Author's Note: This little story here is just keeping me awake at night and owns my mind and all of my thoughts at this point! There was little I could do to stop myself from writing more the very next day after uploading the last chapter…But I hope you don't mind! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this and I hope you'll enjoy reading it. Thanks if you do decide to give it a read and an even bigger thanks if you leave me a review! I will now retire to my new school routines, with only one day of summer break between me and school…Well, it certainly was an enjoyable summer, even if it was way too short. Anyways, I wish you all a very happy rest of your summer and an even better start of autumn. I hope to be with you as soon as possible, but in the meantime, stay safe all!

It was not the first time Charles had woken up in the middle of the night, only to find his wife nowhere to be seen. Some nights he could hear her in the bathroom throwing up the contents of her stomach (which he knew weren't much), and otherwise, there was no sign of her. A few nights ago he had treaded downstairs in search for her and found her in the sitting room. She had fallen asleep on the settee and instead of waking her up to tell her to come back to bed, Charles had spread a blanket over her legs and left her there. At least he knew she was getting some rest like that.

His wife's lack of rest and sickness were enough to worry Charles and it only added to his worries when she refused to talk to him about it. She'd barely looked him in the eye the past few days and whenever he tried to talk to her about slowing down and taking care of herself properly, she simply put him off by saying he needn't concern himself with it and that she simply had so much to do. But of course, he was concerned — she was his wife after all. He had offered to help her with her duties, allow her a few more hours to sleep in the morning and get to bed earlier, but she had insisted she was fine. Honestly, Charles was at a loose end and he felt helpless. They had not settled on the course of treatment she would undergo and he had a feeling they wouldn't do that soon either. A part of him wanted to sneak sleeping powder into her tea in hopes that it would make her get some proper rest but at the same time, he forbid himself to do such a thing. She would be cross with him and that would cause her distress and he didn't want that. Telling Dr Clarkson about her state of mind had crossed his mind, but there was very little the man could do to fix it. So, what was he to do?

And now, after yet another sleepless night behind them (Elsie having spent it by the toilet feeling sick to her stomach and Charles in bed awake worrying about her) a new day of work rolled in with little to no warning. Their morning at the cottage was spent in silence as he prepared them breakfast, only for her not to eat it and say she would have something when they got to the Abbey. He had not argued with her, little to no good that it would do. They had walked to the Abbey arm in arm — something he was glad she still wanted to do despite everything else going on. It signalled to him that she was not really mad at him despite her being less than amiable with him lately. When they got to the Abbey, he had barely helped her out of her coat when she was already gone to God knows where. He sighed before heading to his pantry to get started on the day. Something had to be done if only he knew what.

—

A few hours later, after the servants' luncheon

Charles was not exactly surprised when she didn't show up for luncheon but it did distress him greatly nevertheless. He very much doubted she had ever eaten anything when they had gotten to the Abbey that morning.

He wasn't the only one at the table who had noticed the housekeeper's absence.

"Mr Carson, have you seen Mrs Hughes?" Anna Bates asked kindly from her place just a few seats to the right from where the housekeeper would usually reside but was now empty.

Charles put down his spoon to address the kind, young woman, "I trust Mrs Hughes has only lost track of time."

"Shall I go fetch her? She'll miss lunch."

"No, thank you, Anna. I shall bring her a tray once we've finished. We don't want to let the food get cold."

Anna turned back to her meal but she wasn't entirely convinced. However, she didn't want to undermine the butler.

When their luncheon was over, the servants went back to their duties and Charles headed to his wife's sitting room to take her a lunch tray. This time he would watch her eat everything, down to the last crumb, Charles told himself. He knocked on her door but when he didn't hear a reply, he opened the door and let himself in the room, closing the door behind him. He didn't need to look for her for long as his gaze located her at her desk as soon as he laid eyes upon the room. She was snoring very lightly and Charles realized she was sleeping. Her entire body was curled uncomfortably over her desk, her head resting on her hands. Charles placed the tray down on the table where they had so many times shared a glass of sherry after they had finished for the day, and walked to her, a hand coming to rest on her shoulder to shake her awake. He stopped himself and simply stood by her side watching her shoulders moving up and down with her breathing. He knew she was a light sleeper, had learned it at the beginning of their marriage, but she hadn't batted an eye when he had entered the room now. It showed him how tired she really was and he felt like he wanted to cry.

How had it come to this, he thought as he watched her petite, worn-out form. His perfect, beautiful wife was hurting and tired and sick, and he had to watch her suffer with there being almost nothing he could do to help her. It pained his heart in a way he had thought wasn't possible…If only he could persuade her to take some time off from work, to get her to bed for long enough for her to wake up feeling rested. Of course, he knew that wasn't possible. They weren't their own masters and they couldn't just do as they please whenever they wanted to. The man in him, however, her husband, wanted nothing more than to take her away from this house, away from the endless excuses for her to keep working and torturing herself, and not give a damn about the Crawleys and their house. The butler in him, in turn, knew of their responsibilities and of the standards they needed to keep, even at their own expense…But it wasn't right. It just wasn't right.

He knelt beside her and his left hand found its way to stroke her hair, the beautiful auburn curls she had pinned up so precisely that morning like so many mornings before that. Do I honestly care about her so little that I just sit here doing nothing while she suffers, he asked himself as a lonely tear slid down his cheek. Something had to be done, even if she liked it or not. But if she knew the pain he was in…Surely she would understand that he was in an impossible situation?

He would speak to Lord and Lady Grantham…Even if that was one of the very things she had forbidden him to do.

—

Before the upstairs dinner, in the library

He wasn't entirely sure he was actually doing this until he was already standing in front of Lord Grantham and his wife in the library.

Charles had requested a moment of the couple's time when they had sat down to eat their lunch earlier on. And now he was in the library, standing nervous before the said couple.

"Well, Carson, you've got our attention. What was it that you wanted to discuss?" Lord Grantham said as he poured himself a drink — much to his wife's disapproval.

Now that the moment had come, Charles realized he had never thought of what exactly he would say to his employers. Was it really the right choice to come to them, to begin with?

"Carson?" he heard Lady Grantham prompt him to continue.

Charles cleared his throat, "Milord, milady, I'm afraid I don't quite know how to begin."

The tone of his voice made both his Lordship and her Ladyship grow more serious.

"What is it, Carson?" Cora asked gently, growing a bit agitated upon hearing the butler's words.

Charles opened his mouth to speak but closed it when he realized no words were coming out. How was it so difficult? He was acting like he had never spoken to the pair before. He blinked a few times before finally speaking up.

"I'm ever so sorry to concern you with this, your Lordship, but I'm at a loose end."

Robert lowered the glass from his lips and looked at his butler.

"Now, you are worrying me, Carson," he said simply— Lady Grantham looked at her husband then moved her gaze back to the butler.

"Do you think it might be possible for you to hand over some of Mrs Hughes's duties to me, milord?"

"What?" Cora was the first to react.

"I'm afraid—" Suddenly there was a lump in his throat and he had to take a moment to swallow it "—Mrs Hughes is not quite…that is, she's fallen ill."

"Oh? She must take some time off to get rest then, of course," Robert was thoroughly confused as to why the butler had come to them to tell them the housekeeper has fallen ill but thought better of it.

Charles had fallen quiet.

"I hope it's nothing serious?" Cora asked kindly — she, too, was confused about the turn this conversation had taken.

To hell with it, Charles thought.

"I'm afraid it is not quite that simple, milord. We've been to see Dr Clarkson and he has confirmed that it's—" Charles closed his eyes for a second, an action barely noticed by the other two in the room, before continuing. "—it's cancer, I'm afraid."

There, he had said it…In a way, it almost felt good to share the burden with someone else, but on the other hand, he regretted it the moment the words left his mouth…Had all eyes in the room not been on him before, they certainly were on him now, as both Robert and Cora stared at him.

"What?" the lonely word was uttered by Lord Grantham as he tried to understand what the butler had truly meant.
"Is Dr Clarkson certain?" Cora asked, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

Charles swallowed before answering her, "He is, milady."

Lady Grantham stood up from where she had been sitting before but instead of saying something like both Charles and Lord Grantham had expected, she stopped abruptly with her arms hanging at her sides. A second or two later she sat back down. She was clearly shaken and Charles realized this must have come as a shock to them. God, it had been a shock to him too. He thought about apologizing but it wouldn't do them any good after all. And, besides, he's got nothing to apologize for, not really.

"I'm so sorry," Cora shook her head a bit, her hand resting on her chest.

"Is there anything we can do?" it was a silly question, really, Robert knew it, but he still liked to ask it.

All this time Charles had stood still in the spot he had first taken when he entered the room. He could feel his feet glued to the floor.

"The thing is, milord, I'm not here because my wife has asked me to. She doesn't know I've come to you and if I'm honest, she forbid me to tell anyone about it yet. But she's not taking proper care of herself, milord, and I am worried. I fear she'll wear herself out before…before the disease does it for her. She won't listen to me when I tell her to put her feet up. She's not slept properly in days, her meals go untouched…She's exhausted and sick…And…she'll have my head if she finds out I've told you, and yet here I am…I didn't know where else to go," he didn't fully process the words before they had already left his mouth, his desperate need for help shining through his, normally so stoic, composure.

He had said too much, he knew that. But what else was he to do? Luckily, his worries about going too far were brushed away when he noticed the compassionate looks on his employers' faces.

"Of course, we'll help in any way we can, Carson. But should she be working, won't it tire her completely?"

"Milady, since Mrs Hughes hasn't expressed that she wants to leave service quite yet, I shall honour that."

"Of course," Cora smiled reassuringly despite the situation. "We can arrange for some of her duties to be transferred to you from now on."

Charles nodded politely, "That would be most kind, milady, thank you."

"Does anyone else know, besides us, of course?" Robert asked.

"Nobody else. It is what she wanted after all."

The couple nodded.

"I shall have to ask you to not repeat this to anyone, milord, milady. I don't want anyone else to know and then for Mrs Hughes to end up learning about it."

"Don't worry, Carson. We'll not tell anyone if that's what you wish."

"Thank you."

"And Carson?" Robert continued where his wife had left off.

Charles turned his attention fully towards the Lord as he heard him speak.

"I'm so very sorry that this should happen to you. I hope things will turn out for the best for both you and, especially, Mrs Hughes, Carson."

Charles bowed his head. Any words he would have liked to say were stuck somewhere deep in his throat.

—

The following day

He doesn't think she has realized the few tasks missing from her daily schedule, thinking she is too tired to pay close attention. And he is right of course, but the reason behind her absentmindedness does sadden him greatly. At least now he could do something for her, which he was glad of. Lady Grantham had been kind enough to draw a list for him of all the things — the little, yet time-consuming tasks — he could possibly help Mrs Hughes with. He had told her they should preferably be things she didn't do daily, as to not cause any suspicion in the housekeeper when all of a sudden the task she did every day was left undone. And things had gone smoothly until Ms Baxter fell ill with a flu — it seemed half of the house had or would catch it at some point, as Lady Mary had only a while ago recovered from the same illness herself and now both Ms Baxter and Andrew were ill. According to Dr Clarkson, it was nothing to worry about and the nasty flu (which one of the children probably had gotten first, causing it to spread in the house) would go away with enough rest and some warm tea, but it would cause extra work for the rest of the staff. One of those people was Elsie Carson, who had to step in to dress Lady Grantham to bed. Ms Baxter had taken quite badly ill that night, whilst the family had sat down for their dinner, and was ordered to bed rest by Elsie a moment later. Since Anna had enough work with Lady Mary and she would want to get home before midnight, Elsie told the younger woman she'd do it. At least she could be useful.

And not much to her surprise, the only person objecting to this was Charles, who seemed to have a problem with it, though Elsie wasn't sure why.

"Honestly, Mr Carson, there is no good reason for me not to do it. We all have to pitch in when needed, as you well know," she told her husband firmly as she headed for the stairs, having heard Lady Grantham ring for Ms Baxter a minute earlier.

Charles was right behind her, "I know that, Mrs Hughes. But surely Anna can manage-"

"I do not need Anna to manage when I can do it myself. Besides I already promised Anna I'd look after Lady Grantham."

And, leaving no room for him to argue, she climbed up the stairs to tend to the Countess.

When she got to her Ladyship's bedroom, she was met with the said woman's surprised face.

"Mrs Hughes? Where's Baxter?"

Elsie smiled weakly and explained the situation to Lady Grantham, "I'm afraid Ms Baxter's fallen ill, milady. I will look after you tonight if that's alright?"

Cora seemed to be thinking for a moment before answering.

"Very well, Mrs Hughes, as long as it doesn't keep you from your own duties."

"Not at all, milady."

Without another word, Elsie started to take out the multiple pins and clips that held up Cora's hair with perfect precision. After all, it was not the first time she worked as a lady's maid. While the housekeeper worked, Cora was watching her intently through the mirror. Since learning about the housekeeper's health problems, she had noticed the changes in her which she hadn't paid any attention to before. The dark bags under the woman's eyes, the way she fought back a yawn so often, and how Cora thought she was going to be ill that very moment…It was all quite frightening if she was honest with herself. She kept wondering whether it was the cancer's fault or if she was working herself too hard as Carson had said.

"Is everything alright, your Ladyship?" Cora was pulled back to the present moment by the gentle voice of the woman that had been filling her thoughts only a second earlier.

"Of course. I've just a lot on my mind, Mrs Hughes. Nothing to concern you with."

When the housekeeper didn't say anything in reply, Cora returned to her thoughts. She really is an extraordinary kind woman, Cora thought. There she was working and taking care of others as if nothing was out of the ordinary, all the while fighting against the horrid reality of cancer. Cora did admire her, she truly did.

"That's your hair sorted out, milady. Shall I help you out of our dress then? I've got your nightgown and morning coat right here."

Cora only nodded and let the housekeeper remove her dress and the rest of the layers, then slip on her nightgown and morning coat, which Cora herself tied closed around her waist. Mrs Hughes knelt at her feet to unbuckle her shoes, then removed them and her stockings. Cora felt bad for her. She shouldn't let the housekeeper kneel on the floor before her to remove her shoes when she could easily do it herself, but she didn't want to give it away that she knew. So, she simply stood in place as the housekeeper did her thing. When she was finished, Cora watched her stand up — the small look of pain passing the housekeeper's face not going past her. But before Cora could say anything else — to possibly give away her knowledge — the door separating her and Robert's bedroom and his dressing room opened and the said man stepped into the room. Both the Countess and the housekeeper turned to look at him as he closed the door behind him.

"Ah, Mrs Hughes," the Lord was slightly taken aback when he saw the housekeeper.

"Milord," Elsie greeted him and bowed her head, as she put away Cora's clothes.

When she did this, she missed the shared look between the husband and wife in the room.

"What's happened to Baxter?"

Elsie turned to face the Lord again, "She's caught that nasty flu that's been combing through the house, I'm afraid. But I'm sure she'll be fine by tomorrow evening, milord."

Robert nodded, "So you…You're taking on her duties for the time being…yes?"

"Which is very kind of her, Robert, surely," Cora stated, glaring at her husband.

"It is not a problem, milord. Not at all," Elsie said politely, resting her hands before her.

"I didn't mean to imply anything of the sort, of course, Mrs Hughes. Please forgive me. I only want to make sure you're not overwork-"

Elsie's gaze bore into his the moment the words left his mouth.

"Robert!" Lady Grantham hissed under her breath, glaring at her husband again.

"Whatever do you mean, milord?"

Robert finally realized what he had done and he looked at his wife for help. This didn't go past the housekeeper.

"It's just that it is very kind of you to take on this extra work, Mrs Hughes. We wouldn't want you to overwork yourself," Cora tried to explain, but Elsie saw right through her.

"I am not blind, milady. I can see when there is something I'm not being told about."

Cora closed her mouth and sighed. Then it dawned on her. Elsie saw it from her eyes — she didn't know how or why or when, but she knew the couple knew. She could feel a lump form in her throat and suddenly she felt lightheaded. Cora noticed this too when all of a sudden the housekeeper went pale. For a moment Cora thought she was going to faint right there on the spot.

"H—how much do you know?" Her voice was nothing but a whisper when she asked this.

Robert looked at his wife for support, but since he had ultimately let the cat out of the bag, he realized he was on his own. Cora had her gaze fixed on the housekeeper and refused to spare him a look.

"Carson told us yesterday. He worries for you, Mrs Hughes, and asked for some of your duties to be handed over to him."

Elsie's eyes shot up and what Robert saw in there made him feel sick to his stomach. She was hurt, there was no doubt about that.

"Mrs Hughes, please don't be angry with your husband. He didn't know what else to do."

"I don't believe it ever was or will be his story to tell, milady. So, I won't deny that I am angry with him for telling you," Elsie said, somehow managing to keep her emotions in check.

"I'm sure he didn't do it to cause you any harm, Mrs Hughes," Robert said. "Quite the contrary."

None of them said anything for a moment but then Elsie broke the silence.

"Well," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I believe I shall continue working as I have for the past thirty years, and I will do all of my duties, whatever my husband may say of it."

"Mrs Hughes—" Cora tried to stop the housekeeper's ranting but was not successful.

"And I don't want your pity, milady."

Her words took all of them by surprise.

"Oh, dear Mrs Hughes. Of course, we pity you, and we're so sorry that this has happened to you," Cora spoke with such a kindness that Elsie didn't dare to even try and stop her. "And I will say this: should there ever come a need for you to be cared for or looked after then we will be there to help. I know Carson will be more than willing to take care of you, but just know that you're not on your own, Mrs Hughes. The offer I extended to you years ago still stands."

Elsie sniffed, clearly touched by the Countess's words.

When she eventually left Lady Grantham's bedroom to head back downstairs, she dried her tears and managed to pull herself together. Only, she couldn't just ignore the anger burning at the bottom of her stomach. She slowly started to realize what he had done. Charles had broken her trust. Did he value her so little, that her words meant nothing to him? Did what she wanted matter to him at all? The only thing she had asked of him, the only thing she knew she had wanted, was to not tell anyone. She had made him promise and he had.

But why, if in the end, his promises meant nothing to him at all?