A/N It's been a very long time since I last updated, but I promised I wouldn't leave this story unfinished, and I won't. Thank you to those of you who have encouraged me and requested that I keep writing. Here's a new chapter. Just to refresh your memory, Mr. Carson is bringing Mrs. Hughes back to Downton after she's been away. She's been in London, working and caring for her sister Becky, but Becky has recently died. Mrs. Hughes needs a job, and Downton needs a housekeeper, and so you might guess what that means.
Mrs. Hughes had nodded off about ten minutes after the train left the station in London and had spent the rest of the journey to York resting against Mr. Carson's shoulder, until she was awakened by the train pulling into the station. In York, they'd switched trains, but she'd fallen asleep again as soon as they'd settled into their new seats, even before the train had departed. Now, as the train neared the Downton station, Mr. Carson found himself once again with Mrs. Hughes's warm, comfortable weight nestled against his shoulder. He didn't mind in the least. He'd spent most of the journey observing her. The dear woman looked exhausted, and he was worried for her. He considered everything that she'd been through since he'd last seen her. She'd been working tirelessly to earn a living and to care for her sister. Then she'd lost her job and her sister. He was certain that she'd been eating and sleeping too little – and worrying too much. He hated to wake her and would have been quite content for her to rest against him until she woke naturally, but he thought it better to wake her gently than to wait until she was jarred awake by the eventual noise and jostling of the train pulling into the station.
He gently touched her hand, which was resting on her lap, and rumbled softly, "Mrs. Hughes, we're nearly there."
She opened her eyes slowly, and it took a moment for her to orient herself and to gain her bearings. As soon as she came to herself, she sat up quickly. "Oh! Mr. Carson! I'm so sorry!" she apologized. "What must you think of me, fast asleep and slumped against you like that?!"
"What I think … is that you were tired and needed the rest. It's all right, Mrs. Hughes," he assured her.
"Well, I'm sorry I haven't been better company. I'm afraid I'm a rather disappointing traveling companion."
"Certainly not. You needn't do or say anything. Your presence is enough to make the journey pleasant. But let's gather our things now."
Mr. Carson collected all of their belongings and left Mrs. Hughes to carry only her handbag. She tried to protest, but he insisted. They allowed the other passengers to disembark first, and then Mr. Carson stepped down from the train. He set their bags on the ground and then turned back to help Mrs. Hughes down onto the platform. He was concerned for her safety and well-being, given that she'd lost her footing twice already while walking with him, so he made sure to hold her securely. As it happened, her leg gave out as she was stepping down, and she twisted her ankle. Mr. Carson caught her in his arms.
"Oh! Thank you, Mr. Carson!" she said, as he continued to hold her upright. "I'm so sorry. I've become weak and clumsy. I'm afraid I'm no longer as hardy and graceful as I once was."
"You're not weak or clumsy," he argued. "But are you all right?"
Mrs. Hughes tried shifting her weight to stand on her injured foot. "I'd like to say I'm fine, but I've turned my ankle, and it hurts to bear my weight on it. I think I can walk, but I'm afraid I'll be moving very gingerly and slowly," she reported regretfully. "I feel so foolish!"
"I'll not hear anything of the sort! It could happen to anyone. Now, lean on me," Mr. Carson instructed, "and we'll get you seated."
Fortunately, the station was not very busy that day, and they were spared having to contend with a crowd. Mr. Carson helped Mrs. Hughes to a nearby bench, holding her securely, while a porter followed with their bags. Mr. Carson gave the young man a few coins and then asked Mrs. Hughes to sit for a moment with their luggage. He went to use the telephone inside the stationmaster's office to call Lady Grantham and request the use of the car. He would never trespass on the family's kindness on his own behalf, but he suffered no hesitation in asking this favor for Mrs. Hughes's benefit. He rang the abbey and spoke to her ladyship, who readily agreed to send the motor to drive them both to the house. She also insisted that she'd ring Dr. Clarkson and ask him to come to the abbey to examine Mrs. Hughes's ankle at his earliest availability. Mr. Carson thanked the countess, hung up, and returned to Mrs. Hughes.
While they waited for the car, Mr. Carson asked Mrs. Hughes about her ankle. "Are you in great pain?"
"It's not so bad if I don't move it or try to put any weight on it," she said. "But I don't think I can walk on it very well."
"Well, there's no need for you to walk on it right now. But are you cold? Would you be more comfortable if I helped you inside?" Mr. Carson asked.
"Thank you, but no," said Mrs. Hughes. "I'd rather not try to walk any more than necessary, and it shouldn't be too long before the car arrives."
"Well, then, this will have to do." He stood, removed his coat, and began to drape it over Mrs. Hughes's shoulders.
"Mr. Carson! Certainly not," she protested. "I'll not have you freeze on my account!"
"Nonsense," he insisted. "I'll be fine." And he continued to arrange his overcoat so that it was wrapped securely around Mrs. Hughes. He was struck by the way his large coat engulfed her slight frame so thoroughly that she seemed almost lost in it. He sat back down next to her, and she slid closer to him.
"Here. At least we can share." She lifted her arm behind Mr. Carson and situated the coat such that it covered them both. With the coat unbuttoned, it served almost as a blanket, and it was able to cover most of their backs and shoulders. Mr. Carson was more than warm enough, huddled so closely with Mrs. Hughes, and he had no desire whatsoever to alter their current proximity, but her ankle still concerned him.
"Would you like me to help you remove your boot so that we can have a look?" he offered.
"Since there's nothing we can do about it right now anyway, it's probably best to wait until we get to the house, where Dr. Clarkson can examine it."
"I suppose you're right about that. But I do hope it's nothing serious."
"I don't think it's broken. I wish her ladyship hadn't insisted on troubling the good doctor," worried Mrs. Hughes. "He must have other patients who need his attention."
"I'm sure that if someone else needs immediate care, Dr. Clarkson will tend to that need first, but your ankle may be worse than you think," Mr. Carson pointed out. "And even if it is only a sprain, as we both hope, you'll still want to know that for certain. Dr. Clarkson will be able to tell you how to properly care for it."
"Yes, I'm sure you're right," she conceded.
A cold wind blew across the platform, and Mr. Carson dared to wrap his arm around Mrs. Hughes and pull her closer. He worried that the gesture might be too familiar and that it would make her uncomfortable, but she just smiled at him and moved closer.
A short time later, the chauffeur, Mr. Stark, appeared. He took charge of their suitcases, while Mr. Carson assisted Mrs. Hughes to the waiting car. Once Mr. Carson had situated Mrs. Hughes carefully in the back seat, he got in from the other side and sat beside her, and Mr. Stark drove them to the house.
Upon arriving at the abbey, Mr. Stark pulled the car around to the back of the house. Mr. Carson helped Mrs. Hughes out of the car, while Mr. Stark removed their luggage and handed it off to a waiting hall boy, who was directed to carry the suitcases upstairs to the butler's and housekeeper's bedrooms, respectively.
Mr. Carson was able to maneuver Mrs. Hughes carefully to the back door, but when confronted with the short flight of stairs just inside, he called Mr. Barrow to aid him in assisting her down the steps. Mr. Barrow came quickly, greeted Mrs. Hughes warmly, expressed concern for her injury, and then asked how he might help. Mr. Carson was standing on Mrs. Hughes's left side, so he instructed Mr. Barrow to position himself on her right. The housekeeper put one arm around each man's shoulders, and they lifted her easily down the few stairs and deposited her gently at the bottom.
Within seconds, there was a flurry of activity surrounding the newly returned housekeeper. Mrs. Patmore, Daisy, Mr. Bates, and Anna, who had known Mrs. Hughes during her previous tenure, wanted to welcome her home; and all of the others wanted to meet the legendary Mrs. Hughes. Mr. Carson, however, gave them little opportunity for more than a few words of greeting, as he kindly but firmly shooed them all away, promising that they could visit with Mrs. Hughes later, after she was settled.
In short order, Mr. Carson had Mrs. Hughes ensconced in a chair in her sitting room, with her boot off, her foot propped up on a second chair, and a cloth with ice on her ankle. While he built up a fire, Mrs. Patmore delivered some tea and sandwiches. Mr. Carson allowed her to chat with Mrs. Hughes for a few minutes, but then the cook was needed in the kitchen again.
No sooner had Mrs. Patmore left than Dr. Clarkson arrived. The good doctor asked Mr. Carson to leave the room for a few moments, in order to give Mrs. Hughes some privacy during her examination. Mr. Carson was reluctant to leave her side, but he obeyed, and he took the opportunity to inform the staff of some minimal information regarding the housekeeper's prior absence, her return, and her current condition. He told them that she'd been away, caring for a sick family member, who had recently died. After her relative's passing, Mrs. Hughes had written to Mr. Carson, who had visited her, and it had been decided that she would return with him to Downton to resume her position as housekeeper. Unfortunately, while descending from the train after their journey, she'd rolled her ankle and was in some pain, and so now Dr. Clarkson was assessing her injury. The butler instructed his subordinates that that was all the information they needed to know at the moment, and that they were under no circumstances to pester him or Mrs. Hughes for further details, at least until Mrs. Hughes was well again. After a time, when the doctor emerged, he asked to see Mr. Carson in his pantry, and the two men sequestered themselves away from the curious eyes and ears of the various staff members.
"How is her ankle?" asked Mr. Carson as soon as they were alone. "Is it broken?"
"No," replied Dr. Clarkson. "As you both suspected - and hoped, I'm sure - it's only sprained. I've wrapped it in a bandage and told her to keep ice on it for today and tomorrow and to keep it elevated for a week. She shouldn't try to walk on it as long as it causes her pain, but I expect that it will start to feel better within a few days or a week. She can gradually start to bear some weight on it after the pain subsides."
Mr. Carson released a sigh of relief.
"However," continued the doctor, "I'm concerned for Mrs. Hughes. She's given me permission to speak with you about her condition. She told me that you already know everything she's told me, and she obviously trusts you. Therefore, I'm free to discuss her current situation and her recovery with you. You know that until recently, Mrs. Hughes had been caring for her sister. Well, during that time, unfortunately, she hadn't been caring for herself very well. She'd been working too hard, worrying too much, sleeping too little, and eating too little."
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Mr. Carson confirmed, "and it troubles me, too. Will she be all right?"
"I'm confident that she will, yes," Dr. Clarkson said. "But I'd like her to get plenty of rest and to eat well. I believe she's suffering from exhaustion and malnutrition. She's very weak and tired."
"I've observed as much, yes," Mr. Carson concurred. "She seems rather unsteady on her feet. Her misstep coming down from the train wasn't the first time she's stumbled recently."
"Mrs. Hughes has told me that she would rather the staff and family not know all the details of her time away from the abbey. I believe that what she's done for her sister is commendable and generous, but I think she's embarrassed to have the others know that she found herself in such desperate circumstances. And she doesn't want to appear weak or ill," conjectured Dr. Clarkson.
"She's a proud woman, doctor."
"Well, Mr. Carson, I hope she's not too proud to rest in her room for a week, sleep as much as she needs to, and eat plenty of hearty food. That is my recommendation for her recovery. Once she's upstairs in her bedroom, she should stay in the attics. She can get up from bed to use the bathroom, as long as someone helps her down the hall and back and she doesn't put any weight on her ankle, but she shouldn't go up or down the stairs. I'll send someone from the hospital later to bring her a pair of crutches, just in case she needs to get around on her own, but I'd prefer that she stay off her feet entirely. She can sit up in a chair if she props her foot up. Getting her up the stairs initially will be a challenge, but I trust that you can arrange for some of the hall boys to help her. As far as the family and the rest of the staff are concerned, you may tell them that Mrs. Hughes needs to stay off her feet because her ankle needs to be elevated. That will be true, and it will provide a convenient reason for her to rest. The others needn't know that it will also help her to regain some strength, nourishment, and energy. I'll tell Lady Grantham that Mrs. Hughes shouldn't begin working at least until I see her again next week to ensure that her ankle is recovered. I expect she'll be much improved by then. However, if I'm not satisfied that she's looking and feeling better, I'll prescribe additional bed rest."
"Certainly, Dr. Clarkson. I'll see to it that she gets plenty of rest and good food and stays off her feet. I suspect that Mrs. Patmore will want to feed her well, even without my prompting, and I'll ensure that the rest of them don't disturb her too much while she recuperates."
"Very well. I'll go and report to her ladyship right now. I fully expect a smooth recovery for Mrs. Hughes, but if anything concerning arises before my next visit, please do ring me."
The two men walked towards the door, and Mr. Carson held it open.
"Thank you, doctor," said the butler. The doctor smiled, nodded, and went on his way.
Mr. Carson went to Mrs. Hughes's sitting room, knocked, and entered when she invited him in. He found her just as he'd left her. After closing the door behind him, he moved to stand next to her. Noticing that she'd finished her sandwiches and tea, he asked, "Can I get you anything else?"
"No, thank you," she replied. "I'm fine now after my tea and a plateful of Mrs. Patmore's sandwiches."
He moved her desk chair next to her and sat down in it. "Does your ankle feel any better? Dr. Clarkson filled me in. Thank goodness it's not broken!"
"Yes, that's certainly a relief, and it does feel a bit better now that I've rested it. But I still feel very foolish. I've only just returned here, but I've gone and injured myself, and now, I won't even be able to start working for at least a week! What an imposition on the family! And after the kindness her ladyship has shown!" Mrs. Hughes shook her head and cast her eyes down.
"Nonsense! I'll hear no talk of foolishness or imposition. The family are thrilled to have you back - and so are the staff. We all are." When she lifted her eyes back up, he looked at her meaningfully.
"Well, that's kind of you to say, and I'm quite happy to be back, myself." She smiled slightly.
Mr. Carson gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile in return. Then he turned his attention to practical matters. "Yes, well, would you prefer to stay here for now, or should we get you upstairs to your room?"
Mrs. Hughes thought for a moment. "Knowing that I'll be confined to my room for at least a week, I'm in no particular hurry to get there, and I've no idea how I'll manage to drag myself up all those stairs! On the other hand, I do feel rather worn out after the journey and all the commotion from my injury. I think perhaps I should get settled into my room, if that's all right."
"Certainly. I think that's wise. The doctor says the more you rest, the better you'll feel and the sooner you'll recover. And you're not to worry yourself about how you'll get upstairs. Our hall boys are strapping young lads, and we'll have a couple of them carry you up, if necessary. Or if you'd feel more comfortable, Mr. Barrow and I can do it, the same way we got you down the stairs earlier."
"I do hope it won't come to that. Perhaps if you'll help me and allow me to lean on you, and perhaps if we take it slowly, I can make it with just the two of us. Would you be so kind?" She looked at him with such vulnerability that his heart ached. At the same time, he was overjoyed that in her frailty, he was the person whose help she sought.
"Of course, Mrs. Hughes. I hope you know that you can always rely on me for anything you need - anything at all." Mr. Carson hoped she realized how sincerely he meant what he said.
"I do know that, Mr. Carson. You've shown me time and time again." Apparently she did realize how earnest he was: her warm smile and tender expression left him breathless.
Fortunately, he was spared any potential awkwardness due to his inability to respond coherently, because something caught Mrs. Hughes's attention. She pointed to the ferns on the shelf, seeming to study them carefully. "Surely it can't be!" she said in wonder. "The larger one on the left - is it the same one I left here?"*
"It is indeed! The very same!" Mr. Carson confirmed proudly, smiling widely. "Still in the same pot and still in the same place on your shelf. I've cared for it and even propagated it. The two smaller ones next to it came from your original plant, and there are two more in the kitchen with Daisy and Mrs. Patmore."
"Well, I never! I can hardly believe it!" said Mrs. Hughes.
"And what's more," continued Mr. Carson, "my aspidistra is still thriving, too.* You were correct when you told me that plants can help keep things from getting too dreary. On their own merits, plants in general are pleasant enough, but these particular plants have an added benefit for me. I've enjoyed caring for them, because they remind me of you. Every time I look at them, I think about your unwavering kindness, and thinking about you makes me happy."
Mrs. Hughes blushed, and she looked away. Mr. Carson hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable, but he desperately wanted her to understand how wonderful she was and how highly he esteemed her. He couldn't declare his love outright - certainly not at this moment, and probably not ever, though his heart still dared to hope that maybe someday he would. He was determined, however, to show his devotion in other ways. He would care for her in practical matters, and he would tell her often how marvelous she was.
"I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you," said Mr. Carson, "but it's true. You saw how everyone flocked to you the moment you arrived. Everyone who knew you before has missed you terribly, and those who are newer here couldn't wait to meet the legendary Mrs. Hughes."
"Oh, Mr. Carson, if anyone thinks me 'legendary,' then my merits have been wildly exaggerated - and you must be quite biased."
He regarded her with his most earnest expression. "Of course I am! I'll not deny that I'm biased when it comes to you. Very much so. It's no great secret that I think you must be the most remarkable woman in the world." Fearful of making her more uncomfortable, Mr. Carson gave Mrs. Hughes no chance to respond; he rose quickly from his chair and said, "But let's get you upstairs now so that you can rest."
He removed the cloth and ice from her ankle and set them aside. "Shall we put your boot back on, or would you prefer to leave it off?"
"I don't think it will fit over the bandage," she pointed out.
"Right. I'll have Anna bring it up to you later, along with some more ice."
Being very gentle, so as not to cause her any more pain, he helped her to stand. Slowly, with Mrs. Hughes using only her uninjured foot while leaning on Mr. Carson, they made their way down out of the room, down the corridor, and to the stairs. They'd made it only halfway up the first flight of stairs before Mrs. Hughes needed to stop and rest. They both sat down on one of the steps. Fortunately, it wasn't a busy time of day in the house, and there was no one else going up or down the stairs. After a moment, they stood and continued their incremental climb. Because their progress was proving slower and more difficult than they had foreseen, they needed to stop several times more to rest. Mr. Carson asked Mrs. Hughes whether he should call Mr. Barrow or Anna to help, but Mrs. Hughes refused help from anyone but Mr. Carson. Secretly, he was thrilled. He gladly would have offered to carry her in his arms from the start, but he wasn't sure he was strong enough or would have enough stamina to make it up so many stairs. In his younger days, he would have had no difficulty in carrying a small, light woman up the stairs. Now, however, he was older, and he was well aware of his limitations: he feared stumbling, or dropping Mrs. Hughes, or injuring his back - not to mention embarrassing himself. After what seemed like a very long time, the top of the stairs and the women's hallway finally came into sight above them. At this point, he felt confident that he could carry her up the remaining stairs and to her bedroom.
"Mrs. Hughes," he said cautiously, hoping not to offend her, "I hope this suggestion isn't too forward, but might I carry you the rest of the way? I don't wish to be too familiar or to make you uncomfortable, but I think we might manage better that way. You've worn yourself out coming this far."
Mrs. Hughes released a great sigh. "Oh, Mr. Carson, I'm sure I should decline … but the truth is that I don't know if I can manage even one more step. You're right: I'm worn out. So if you think you can manage, I'd be most grateful."
"Yes, I'm sure I can manage," Mr. Carson assured her. "I'm not as fit as I was in my younger days, but we've not got much further to go now, and I'll wager you're light as a feather."
He lifted her carefully into his arms and carried her up the remaining stairs and down the women's hallway to her bedroom. He found he was correct: she was light as a feather, and he made a mental note to speak to Mrs. Patmore to request some hearty meals. His concern for Mrs. Hughes's well-being nearly overshadowed the thrill of holding in his arms the woman he loved so dearly - but only nearly overshadowed: he was still breathless, but not from any physical exertion. Once inside her room, he deposited her gently in a chair.
"Here we are," he said. "Your old room. I've had the maids make sure it's ready for you. You should find everything in order. And there are your things." He pointed to her bags, which one of the hall boys had delivered earlier, as instructed.
"Thank you, Mr. Carson," she said, smiling. "That was very kind of you. I'll admit that it feels good to be home, back in familiar, comfortable surroundings."
He couldn't help smiling back at her. "I'm glad you feel that way. I can't tell you how happy I am - how happy we all are - to have you home. But you must be tired. I should leave now so you can rest. Shall I call Anna to help you?"
"Yes, I think so. I'd like to sit here and catch my breath for a moment first, but then I think I'll need some help getting to the bathroom to wash up a bit. And perhaps Anna can bring my boot and handbag and some ice when she comes."
"Certainly."
Mrs. Hughes looked thoughtful for a moment. "Mr. Carson … I find I don't quite know how to express my gratitude for everything you've done for me. If not for your kindness and concern, I'd still be unemployed, wondering where I'd live and where my next meal would come from."
"And if not for your kindness, I'd be a miserable, lonely, old tyrant, feared and despised by all," he responded. "I'm simply returning the kindness you've shown me."
Just then, Anna and Daisy appeared at the open door to Mrs. Hughes's room.
"Oh, hello, girls!" Mrs. Hughes greeted them warmly. "Do come in!"
"I've come to see if you need anything," Anna said. "And Daisy's got some biscuits and bread and a pitcher of water."
"That's very thoughtful of you both. Daisy, if you would just leave the tray here on the nightstand, I'd be obliged. And Anna, if you don't mind, I could use some help getting down the hall to the bathroom to freshen myself up. Then I'll need some ice for my ankle."
"Of course," said both Anna and Daisy, almost in unison.
Daisy set down the tray and said, "I'll be right back with some ice."
"Will you please bring my other boot and my handbag from my sitting room, too?" Mrs. Hughes asked her.
Daisy nodded and went on her way, and Anna and Mr. Carson helped Mrs. Hughes to stand. Once she was upright and leaning on Anna, Mr. Carson excused himself, saying, "Mrs. Hughes, I'll come back to check on you later. You'll be in bed resting?"
"Thank you, Mr. Carson. Yes, that is my intention," Mrs. Hughes confirmed. "As soon as I finish in the bathroom, I plan to come back here, change, and get into bed."
"Don't worry, Mr. Carson," Anna interjected. "Daisy and I will take good care of her and set her up comfortably."
"Thank you, Anna," he said. "Rest well, Mrs. Hughes." He smiled and left the room.
As Mr. Carson made his way back downstairs, he reflected on how happy he was to have Mrs. Hughes back home again. He was sorry that she was still weak and tired and that her ankle was hurt, but he was hopeful that she would recover quickly, for he was eager to see the sparkle return to her eyes and to hear the music return to her voice.
A/N *According to my research, ferns and aspidistras can have very long lifespans. I'm no gardener, so I'm trusting the information I found on seemingly reputable websites.
If you have a few moments, please leave a review. I know there are very few people still out there who are still active in the Chelsie/Downton Abbey fandom, and at this point, I'm writing mostly for my own sake, but I do hope there are at least a few people remaining who might enjoy this (or maybe some newcomers/latecomers to the fandom).