Ch 51- Enough of Being Brave, Part II
"Hmmm." Elsie almost hummed, smiling as she rocked Lucy.
It was a perfect moonlit night. The days-long deluge had subsided, leaving bright twinkling stars in the deep blue sky, and a chorus of crickets just outside the Carson's open bedroom window. Elsie smiled deep, hearing her husband in the distance, re-tucking their boys into bed for the third time. She could tell by his tone, that he was pretending to be cross with them, but was really quite amused.
"Lucy, did you know that sometimes, life can be just perfect?" Elsie whispered, watching with wonder as the infant's bitty fingers coiled around two of her own. Lucy yawned, her little eyes heavy as she started to babble, as if doing so absentmindedly.
Elsie giggled, having come to feel that her littlest would grow to be the biggest chatterbox of all time.
"My Lucy lass, I've never had a babe who spent so much time awake at night. What are you trying to say? Are you a chatty one already, m'love?" Elsie giggled, marveling over how tiny, but clever she was. "Isn't that a funny thing, my miracle of a lass? Any day now, you're going to have a new friend, and your mummy'd wanted you, and wanted you, and wanted you since his mummy was a wee baby herself."
"Hello mummy and Lucy." Carson announced, his voice thundering even as he whispered.
"Hello daddy." Elsie replied softly, turning to see him as he eased their door to where it was just open ajar.
"Lucy, what are you doing, keeping mummy up?" He asked, climbing into bed.
"You know how Lucy is, Mr. Carson." Elsie giggled.
Lucy cooed, looking up at her parents with wide chocolate eyes. Minutes before she'd been on the brink of sleep, but now found herself excited her parents were both there and she had them to herself, without Samuel present. Recently, Lucy had started to grow jealous of Sam's presence, just as he'd always been of hers.
"She's still so very tiny." He laughed, observing as their littlest one yawned, unable to help it.
Lucy was still very little, about the size her twin siblings had been when they were two months younger, something that worried Elsie greatly. The twins had been tiny enough: but comparatively speaking, Lucy was something of a pipsqueak.
"Lady Sybil's return makes it seem so … unbelievable." Carson bit his lip.
"Hmmmm?" Elsie asked.
"Lady Sybil's … having a baby of her own." He put it carefully. "Makes it simply hard to believe, all over again, that my beautiful wife has had my beautiful babies. And that we should have such a lovely new baby ourselves."
Lucy squinted, yawning deep.
Elsie smiled, leaning in and kissing him. "Mr. Carson never forget: it's a miracle." She giggled, rubbing her nose against his.
Carson sighed, his nose against his Elsie's when suddenly they heard Charlotte scream from the other room. "Samuel no!"
Carson laughed, almost rolling his eyes. "I'll go get him."
…
"Mrs. Carson." Benjamin questioned quietly.
The boy was half asleep and stood patiently as Elsie got on her knees and eased him into his coat. Benjamin shivered, not from the biting early autumn wind that creeped through the back door, but from the eerie chill that ran through his heart. Deep inside he knew something was horribly wrong, and that everyone was hiding it from him.
"It's alright m'lad." Elsie said as he rubbed his eyes. "Charlie and Charlotte and Sam have spent the night with you, many, many, many times now, haven't they?"
Ben nodded, following along with her logic as she finished the last button on his coat. He couldn't count the number of times the Carsons had spent the night, it was almost abnormal to not have them there. And yet, true to her word, he'd never spent the night with them.
"Because your mummy is very busy, you're going to get the chance to spend the night with them for once. Don't you think that'll be very fun?"
Ben tilted his head, not understanding the need: after all, when he didn't have mummy, he had nanny. This was, for sure, not the reason.
"Yes." He said, knowing in his gut that it was best to simply agree.
Beryl looked on concerned as Elsie took the little boy's hand and made her way to the other side of the kitchen where Daisy was preparing the Carson children for their walk home.
'Don't you say anything.' Elsie mouthed, looking straight at Beryl.
'Who? Me?' She mouthed back.
It'd been a week since Sybil returned, and earlier that evening, she'd gone into labor. It'd started out normal enough, but when it'd gotten rough, Cora had asked that the Carsons take Ben home with them.
Elsie looked down, surprised when Benjamin clutched her hand with both of his, scooting closer to her as if trying to hide behind her. Cora was close to the Carson children, but Elsie had never felt free to express much affection for Benjamin, despite the love she'd once had for Sybil.
Elsie smiled, getting on her knees again, brushing the little Master's cheek gently.
"It'll be alright." She said quietly, acknowledging that he'd caught on to the truth: that the birth going on upstairs was anything but normal.
Ben blinked, grateful for her honesty. It was something he'd come to appreciate about his future mother-in-law more and more as he grew older: she was loving, but frank with him, and always acknowledged his intelligence, rather than trying to shield the truth from him, as everyone else seemed to.
Ben bit his lip, smiling bittersweetly at the newfound realization that he had love in his heart for Mrs. Carson.
"Come on m'lad." She whispered. "You'll come for a visit then. And have a nice desert, and in the morning, you'll have a new baby niece or nephew, hmm?"
He nodded, squeezing her hand desperately with both his own.
…..
Charlie eyed his friend suspiciously as the family made their usual way home in the dark. At first, he'd been excited about the other boy coming with them. Full of energy, Charlie had hoped Ben would join him in running through the fields all the way home, knowing he'd be more able to keep up with him than his twin sister. But Carlie soon found Ben to be something of a quandary, and a disappointment.
Charlie and Charlotte walked quietly, holding each other's hand as they watched their friend cling to their mother. The future little Lord Grantham clung to Elsie with one hand and sucked his thumb like a boy of much younger years with the other. Even sleepy-eyed Sam watched this with great curiosity from the security of his own father's strong arms, noting that Ben never accompanied them, and that Ben never behaved this way.
Charlotte couldn't take her eyes off the scene before her, the pain in Ben's eyes most evident to her. Even she couldn't conceive of how he really felt. The gut feeling that something was very wrong ran so deep that it manifested into physical pain, which seemed to burrow into his stomach like a dull drill seeking to hollow him out, leaving him feeling void and sick and just done for … Ben wouldn't even know how to describe it, being only six, but that was close enough.
Years later, at Eton, he'd realize the pain was comparable to being kicked deep in the gut, before having the wind knocked out of you… If only the emotional desperation he felt then could compare to that physical feeling in intensity. And just as he would, many years later at Eton, Ben thought he was about to simply double over and vomit all over himself… And his future mother-in-law.
None of them spoke as they trudged through the golden strands of dying grass, the autumn breeze started to pick up, causing it to blow almost silently in the whipping wind. It was a dark night in both a literal and figurative sense. Not even the moon came out to grace the sky and it left them with nothing to lead their path, save the lantern they'd brought from Downton. Elsie held the lantern high, guiding them as they walked into the ominous September night. Carson cradled toddler Sam and baby Lucy in his arms, holding them tight like he'd never let go.
It didn't take long before they all reached the Carson cottage.
"Home again." Carson called sadly as he led them into the house.
Ben found it most odd to be there but didn't let on. He'd come to play before of course, and to visit, and bring gifts when Mrs. Carson had had her babies. But he'd never seen the place at night, it looked so small he had to wonder how all six of them co-existed there together. For a brief moment, he found he turned his nose up at the cottage, and then, after a beat, he found himself somewhat jealous.
'Wouldn't it be nice.' He thought, watching as the Carsons, despite their stress and confusion at his presence, dissolved into their usual happy routine of winding down for the day. 'If mama, and papa, and Sybil, and Edith, and Matthew and I lived in a place like this…'
Note, of course, that he did not include Mary.
"Now." Elsie said quietly. "How about some cake?"
…
"Good night the two of you." Elsie whispered, kissing Charlie and then Benjamin on their foreheads.
Charlie giggled, kissing his mother gently on the lips. Ben blinked, at least feeling cared for despite his great distress.
"Mrs. Carson what happened to my sister?" Ben whispered.
"Shuuu, not to worry, we'll talk about it in the morning m'lad." She replied, lovingly running her fingers through his hair as she got up and turned off the light.
Despite his upset, Ben liked the novelty that he was spending the night with Charlotte and Charlie at their house. He was surprised that bedtime in the Carson nursery was much different than in his own despite it having all the same inhabitants. His own mother and father always kissed him goodnight and tucked him in, sometimes with a story. Ben didn't realize this wasn't exactly par for the course for people of their station, and that they did this because they loved him, and had waited for him for a very long time. His parents were even loving, to a degree, with the Carson children when they stayed over. Even so, there was always a sense of propriety to the whole affair.
But with Carson and Mrs. Hughes, it was different. Their love and happiness with their children was simply infectious. The good nights and I love yous seeming nearly never ending. Had they known the phrase Good Night John-Boy, it'd've been worn to death that night.
The Carson children all went to bed with a sense of joy in their hearts, but Benjamin's good night kiss from Mrs. Hughes left him with a sense of longing that couldn't be filled.
He knew he had that love from his own mummy, but really only felt that connected to her and her alone. He wished so badly he had love in the way the Carsons did, and that just once more in his short life, he could have his favorite sister's affections all to himself.
Sybil had been distant from him ever since she'd returned, and despite her efforts to connect, he couldn't help but feel her attitude somewhat fake, as though fate had created a rift between them that couldn't be mended.
'I love you, I love you always, you know that?' She'd asked that morning. And he'd barely answered.
Even being so small, Ben figured this had to do with her growing up, and his staying a little boy. He had no sense that it was really fate being kind to him, separating him from her before the inevitability of what would happen that night.
Ben had no sense of what having a baby was like, only, he figured it had to be scary. First off, everyone took it so seriously. Second, how in the world was a whole baby supposed to come out of a lady? Third, he recalled waking up the morning following Lucy's birth to overhear that it'd been, in Anna's words, very difficult on Mrs. Carson, and then not seen her for many days thereafter. He also recalled the twins remarking after the fact, that there'd been a lot of blood: and that terrified him.
Ben also remembered once overhearing that his own birth had almost cost his precious mummy her life… And he wondered if the same could happen to his sister. His gut told him it could. After all, that's what he'd heard just before Mrs. Carson took him downstairs: rumors that not all was well with Sybil.
The boy lay there in silence, noting that all the other kids were asleep now, or so he thought. Charlie had started to snore and kick the covers, as he was prone to do. Ben was used to bunking with Charlie but found the hindrance too much when he wanted to be alone, and just started to cry.
"Benjamin." Charlotte whispered from her bed.
He turned to her, tears pouring down his cheeks as she lifted her covers. Without a word, he climbed out of Charlie's bed and into her embrace.
"It's okay." She soothed sweetly, hugging him tight and rocking as he cried himself to sleep. "I've got you Benjamin." She whispered. "I've got you."
…
"This outrageous!" Carson fumed.
"They're babies Mr. Carson." Elsie sighed, going down the stairs, removing the rag from her shoulder.
They'd gone back in the children's room late at night to put Lucy down after her feeding and found Ben fast asleep with Charlotte in her bed, their arms wrapped around each other.
"There's a boy upstairs in bed with my little girl!" Carson cried, his face beat red now, his fists clenched.
She laughed. "There are two little boys in her room every night Mr. Carson."
"They're her brothers." He reminded pointedly.
"Charlie, they're six years old." She laughed.
Carson was fuming. He didn't want to say it, but he'd rather liked a girl at the age of six. It worked that way for some boys, and the last thing he wanted was for his daughter to be used, or hurt, or…
"I put him in bed with Charlie and then…"
"May I remind you of what it's like to share a bed with Charlie." She said, making her way into the kitchen. "He kicks you and pushes you out in his sleep, I should know, I did it almost nine months with no way to get away from him!"
"Elsie." He sighed seriously. "There is a boy in our daughter's bed. It is quite improper, and she is the light of my…"
"Mr. Carson I…" Elsie wanted to explain that she was beginning to think Cora right: that their children had been brought into the world for a larger purpose, one that involved Master Benjamin.
But just then, there was a knock at the door.
….
The Carsons were numb.
Word had come down via a distraught young footman: Lady Sybil had passed just after the birth, from preeclampsia.
"I love you." Elsie said quietly, staring straight ahead.
"I love you more." Carson replied, his heart skipping a beat as he cradled his sleeping infant daughter in his arms.
It was the middle of the night and the two solemnly sat in front of the hearth, staring into the fire as it roared. The couple barely spoke, shell-shocked by the news.
"I couldn't imagine being her ladyship right now." Elsie observed, her voice cracking.
"Nor I his lordship." Carson choked, almost feeling disconnected as he looked down at the baby.
"Poor girl, nothing more than a wee babe herself." Elsie reflected, running her finger over her baby's cheek.
"I'd known her, her whole life." Carson was astounded by the statement, he'd never expected to outlive Lady Sybil.
"As had I." She said, her voice trailing off.
The Carsons couldn't stop shaking. Lady Sybil's birth, after all, had been a beginning for them. It marked their meeting, their impulsive marriage, their passionate love affair, and the very beginning of their many years long effort to make a family of their own. Neither could believe they were sitting there, twenty-something years later, with a tiny new baby of their own, and Lady Sybil, deceased in childbirth.
It was overwhelming, surreal, and absolutely terrifying.
"Elsie, I can't…I can't put her down." Carson's voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes as he studied sleeping baby Lucy.
He jumped, for a moment, seeing Sybil at that age, and not his own baby daughter. Carson could clearly recall the first time he'd met baby Sybil and been allowed the privilege of holding her. At the time, he'd been a newlywed, and the occasion of the youngest Crawley daughter's birth had ignited his own desire to have a baby with Elsie.
Elsie cuddled close to Carson, also reflecting on the affection she'd had for the youngest Crawley daughter. She'd been close to Sybil, particularly when she was tiny, and had at one time, favored her in the way Carson favored Lady Mary. In hindsight, Elsie wished she'd allowed it to be more than it was, as Carson had with Mary. But it'd been harder for Elsie. First, she wasn't naturally as close to the family as was he, and second, sometimes her bareness had been too much to bare: sometimes, she couldn't love Sybil as she wanted, and had had to push her away to spare herself from how much it hurt to miss out on her own little ones. Even so, Carson and Mrs. Hughes had doted on the little girls, not just out of affection, but for fear that they would never be able to have babies of their own to love.
"Every day I feel so blessed to be the mother of this sweet girl and her beautiful brothers and sister…but now more so than ever."
"This is the curse of having a girl." He said quietly, his tone full of dread.
"Yes, it is." She acknowledged.
"I'm just going to…to sit for a while and hold her…make sure she's alright."
"Our daughters are alright Mr. Carson." Elsie soothed, reaching up to dry his tears. "Don't cry, m'love.' Elsie knew he was in shock and studied him closely.
"I-I just…. I suppose…" He still stared at Lucy.
"They're such little lasses: their daddy really doesn't have reason to worry much about them you know."
He laughed, so upset he wanted to joke. 'Really? She's upstairs in bed with a boy.' "I worry." He said instead. "I worry every moment, I love them so tremendously Elsie, and I worry about our boys for entirely different reasons."
Charlie Carson knew that one day, later rather than sooner, war would flare up again and he feared, wisely, that his sons would be caught up in it. He would never tell Elsie that. She was so thankful, after all, that their childbearing had been delayed and was convinced that the Great War was a reason for it. Carson prayed every day that she was right, and that if not, his boys would somehow be spared from the next battle.
"We won't get to see Lucy have her babies." He remarked.
He didn't know what scared him more, the idea of this tiny thing in his hands being old enough to have a baby of her own, or the idea that he was old enough to be her grandfather in the first place.
"You don't know that."
"Elsie." He reasoned.
"Well…you're probably right." She admitted sadly, looking down at her youngest. She kissed Lucy atop her forehead. "I love you m'lass." She whispered. "Mr. Carson, by the time our girls become mothers, things will be so much different…"
"Yes." He gulped.
Carson found he had hope for his daughters, where he was terrified for his sons. Very secretly he feared that they weren't on the precipous of a brave new world, but a cold, unkind one mired in all the cruelties of the past, but devoid of its fruits.
"They're all too young for this." He grumbled as if resentful. "Lady Sybil, Charlotte, Charlie, Master Benjamin…"
"I know." She said, taking her husband's hand. "But I promise our little girls are safe.' She whispered again, taking his face in her hands. "Charlotte and Lucy are years, and years away from having their own children and if they're anything like their mummy, its years and years and years…and by then we'll…"
"I just can't stand the idea of outliving her." He looked up into his wife's eyes, suddenly realizing that that's what was bothering him. "I-it never crossed my mind before tonight … certainly it never crossed anyone else's either."
"Don't worry about our little girls: they're strong, they're here against the odds." Elsie smiled, still holding his face in her hands. "We couldn't have children, even with the operation, I don't totally understand how they all came to be, but here they are. They survived the war, and the flu, and in this one's case, a difficult birth that maybe shouldn't have been survivable."
"I know, Elsie."
"They dodged whatever it is that's wrong with my sister." When Elsie thought of it that way she understood where he was coming from: she'd been terrified her child would be afflicted with her sister's condition and here they were with four healthy children.
"I suppose you're right but just the thought of it, it…it hurts."
"I know." She leaned down and kissed him softly, placing her hand over his fast beating heart. "Shuuuuu m'love."
Carson gulped, trying not to cry. It might be hard to imagine, but the butler found himself beyond words, crushed for both his families, and simply at his breaking point.
"Charlie." She paused a beat, her head now on his chest.
"Humm?"
"How do we tell the twins their friend has passed away?"
"Ah… oh." He realized, finding he had no words. "Perhaps." He paused. "We should wait for Lord and Lady Grantham to break the news to Master Benjamin."
"I agree, I don't want our lad and lass knowing anything he hasn't yet heard, at least for his sake."
"And who knows how long we will remain here anyhow…" Carson figured the young Lord-to-be would remain in his care for some time, and he was right.
"Yes. I suppose that's right." Elsie said quietly. "I think it's time for bed."
"I couldn't possibly sleep."
"Come on m'love." She said quietly, tucking her arm into his. "We must try."
Carson sighed. "Oh Elsie."
"What?"
Carson's heart sank as he spoke. "You're always so brave, but enough of being brave. Just. Enough…"
"I'm sorry Mr. Carson." She said. "But that isn't in the cards for us. We've the whole world on our shoulders."
And with that, someone started to knock on the door. Carson and Elsie exchanged concerned glances. He handed her the baby and went to answer the door. Concerned, Elsie held Lucy close.
"M'lady?" Carson questioned in surprise.
Elsie's jaw almost dropped open, and she found herself staring: Lady Grantham at their door sobbing. Elsie pulled Lucy in even closer to her, feeling so awkward about having her baby daughter in her arms when…
"Please, Carson I need to see him." Cora choked, her voice desperate, as if she had to beg. "My baby Benjamin."