Even the worst member of a staff could be dependable in certain aspects.

This was a truth that Carson (for he had worked so long in service that even in his own head he called himself 'Carson' rather than 'Charles' or the heavens above forbid 'Charlie') had held as nearly as true as the Commandments, no matter how blasphemous that sounded. One didn't last at Downton if they weren't dependable in some way for while the Crawleys believed in charity that didn't matter when it came to their servants. Whenever he had an issue with a member of the staff and idly considered sacking them he would remind himself of what they were well at and that helped temper the urge to remove many of the men and women that he thought far below the honor of Downton.

Thomas had been a liar and a cad but had been skilled with clocks and had a sharp memory that let him remember where things had been stored away. Daisy was a dull-witted girl who could never settle on a thought of her own but she had never once failed to awaken on time nor complained about staying up late (one of the reasons why Carson had agreed with Mrs. Patmore to give her more duties in the kitchen). Mr. Bates had his limp but had been the closest thing Carson had had to an under-butler, able to quietly yet firmly take nearly the entire staff by the hand and guide them towards the proper course. Ms. O'Brien had an acidic tongue and would cling to any slight against her like it was a shawl that could protect against the cold but when it came to her duties she never shirked them. She might complain bitterly about them but then she would do them, much like an old hunting dog that would snarl and snap when someone approached but still dutifully lead them to the kill.

Which was why Carson was so startled when he came down the stairs only to find Ms. O'Brien standing in the hall looking so flummoxed.

"I thought you were going to see to her ladyship," Carson said, looking up from the schedule he'd been examining, deciding on what sections he should inspect in the morning to ensure that quality was maintain. The lady's maid had left only ten minutes earlier to prepare for Lady Grantham's room for her and he knew that she would never return to the downstairs even if her ladyship wasn't there. No, Ms. O'Brien would wait, perhaps organize some drawers or tidy up a bit, until the lady of the house arrives to undress and have her hair put down and her makeup removed.

"I did." Ms. O'Brien gave him an odd look, as if everyone in the world had suddenly decided that the sky was purple and she herself could remember it always being blue. "She wasn't there... in fact it seems no one has seen her. Not since the beginning to the performance, anyway."

Carson forced himself not to grimace. He didn't like thinking about the performance and all that had happened there. His Lordship had been embarrassed (and a small, traitorous part of him that he ruthlessly cast down into the pits of his soul, whispered that his lordship had embarrassed himself), with all of the military personnel leaving and the people of the village and the surrounding areas suddenly wondering if the small donations they'd given would actually be used to help the brave lads fighting in Europe. His Lordship himself had been angered by what had occurred, so much so that Carson had quietly told William, who had fled to the Downstairs pale as a sheet, that he himself would see to Lord Grantham that night and the footman should get some sleep. Carson knew that stronger men would have demanded William steel his nerves and do his duty but Carson had seen how affected the boy had been by those women with their white feathers and taken pity on him.

He was glad he had, for his Lordship had been in a foul mood when Carson left him and William would have taken all of it as a personal slight rather than Lord Grantham merely venting his frustrations to a sympathetic ear. His rage had shifted quite rapidly, from one target to the other. He'd cursed General Lothrop's name and sworn to make him pay for his actions. He'd rued the moment he'd ever laid eyes on Matthew Crawley and let him darken his door. He'd turned his bile towards the feather-women themselves, angry that he hadn't cast them out as they had merely stirred up trouble and played on his emotions. He'd even found time to rant about the builders of the Titanic, for if they had "just bloody well done their job Patrick and James would be here and none of this would be an issue!"

Forcing those thoughts from his mind he focused on Ms. O'Brien. "She must still be up and about then. I would have thought she'd have retired early but perhaps she knew that sleep wouldn't come easily and decided to wander about."

"But that's the thing," Ms. O'Brien stated. "I've asked about and the only one to see her was Nanny Walter."

"Nanny Walter?" Carson asked. "When did see her?"

"About an hour ago, shortly after the military men left. She said that her ladyship asked to see Lady Lillian even though she was tucked into bed and whisked her away without a word."

That... was odd. Her ladyship doted on the child, sure. Carson had always been proud that the Family was so loving and supporting of their children. He knew in many homes the young were seen as little more than bartering chips; you hoped for a strong son to attract a lovely lass from an established home and thicken the branches of the family tree. You desired your daughters to be elegant and charming so that heirs would fight over them... and later, when you needed a favor from that family your daughter could whisper in the right ear. Otherwise the children meant little less. For his lordship and ladyship their daughters had always been given far more attention than most of their peers.

'And yet to take Lady Lillian after she'd already been put to bed... that doesn't make any sense.'

"You are sure she isn't-" he began only for Ms. O'Brien to cut her off.

"What? In her room? I didn't check under the bed, if that's what you mean."

He held up his hand, giving her a dark look. "I meant in none of the usual places. Lady Lillian's playroom or perhaps walking to halls?"

"I've checked Mr. Carson," she said, it tint of worry coming through her sharp words. "I checked the first floor too, in case she had decided to take her to the library for a story or something like that but everything is dark and quiet. No one has seen heads or tails of her."

Carson puzzled that over. "And there is no chance she... well..." he waved his hand about, "Went to see his lordship?"

Ms. O'Brien shook her head violently. "Oh, there would be a better chance of the Wild Hunt racing through the house and offering me a spot as lead rider than her ladyship visiting his lordship."

"There is no need for dramatics."

At that moment Mrs. Hughes approached them. "What's all this then?"

"It seems Ms. O'Brien cannot find her ladyship," Carson said.

"Can not find?" Mrs. Hughes said, almost as bewildered as he was by that line of thought.

"She was last seen with Lady Lillian," the butler stated before adding, "and yes, I know how out of place that is."

"Something is wrong, Mr. Carson," Ms. O'Brien stated. "Something is very wrong. She wouldn't just go hiding in her own home."

Mrs. Hughes patted the sour woman on the shoulder even as Daisy came up, her brow scrunched up. "Now now, I'm sure she's around. We'll get some of the footmen to look about to try and locate her. She probably heard of what happened at the performance and wanted a bit of comfort from the wee girl."

"Mr. Carson," Daisy said quietly but insistently.

"In a moment, Daisy," he said before turning to Ms. O'Brien. "Now, I will see if any of the hallboys are still up and ask them to assist. Mrs. Hughes, if you would track down William? If he has gone to bed I'll retrieve him myself."

"Mr. Carson," Daisy said again.

He ignored her. "It is possible that one of the guests remained late and wished to talk to her ladyship... I know many in the village had questions. She could be outside conversing with them and lost track of time."

"But to take Lady Lillian with her?" Mrs. Hughes stated. "In her nightwear?"

That was still an odd point but Carson decided they'd solve that mystery when they found her ladyship; it did no good to puzzle it about and guess her motives until they actually found her. "I will send William to walk about the perimeter-"

"But Mr. Carson," Daisy said, actually having the nerve to step forward and press her smaller body between himself and Ms. O'Brien. "That's just it... William's gone too."

Carson looked at her, eyes widening before narrowing. "He-" The butler paused, allowing what she'd just said to replay in his mind, to confirm that he'd heard correctly, before asking again, "William's GONE?"

"Yes, Mr. Carson," Daisy said, head bobbing up and down as she looked at him with her large dewy eyes. "He just rushed out of here a few minutes ago! Mrs. Patmore went after him and told me to get you!"

Carson turned and began to make his way to the kitchen, the others fast on his heels. "Does he know where her ladyship is?" he asked, wondering if perhaps something had happened and William had gone to help Lady Grantham. Perhaps one of the villagers needed assistance and her ladyship had heard and in turn informed William and he'd rushed out to help. 'Or,' his mind whispered, ice water going down his spine, 'perhaps she herself is hurt or worse... there were many who weren't happy with what happened tonight... perhaps someone loyal to that General decided to hurt his lordship through her ladyship-'

"I don't think so," Daisy said as she struggled to keep up. "He came in with his eyes all red but even though he was crying he looked real determined. He told me he wished he could give me a proper goodbye but he couldn't as there was no time and he didn't want to rush it. Then he was out the door." She let out a little gasp. "OH! And he wasn't in his livery! Just a tweed jacket and dress shirt... but he didn't even have a tie on! And he had a carpet bag in hand!"

He felt something tighten in his cut and came to a short stop, whirling on his heels and surprising even Mrs. Hughes with how quickly he'd done an about face. "Look around for her ladyship… get anyone you can find to help. I'm going to William's room." He could tell that Mrs. Hughes had already clued in on what he feared had happened with William.

"Whatever for?" Daisy asked.

He didn't answer her. He merely moved as quickly as he could.

~A~O~O~O~F~

The Next Day…

"You don't think they ran off together, do you?" Ethel asked in what she had thought was a quiet voice to Simmons, the chauffer, a tiny smirk forming on her lips.

Carson though found her far too loud and her words too clear. Eyes narrowed he leaned forward, it only his proper manners that kept him from leaping up and moving around the table to throttle the loose-lipped maid. Instead he took several calming breaths though he knew that, in his tired and agitated state, they were coming out to the rest of the staff not as slow steady breaths but the violent snorts of an enraged bull.

He realized that the longer he waited to speak the more the staff shifted in their seats. Mrs. Hughes had been the first to notice his intense stare in the direction of Ethel, followed by much of the kitchen staff and the hall boys. Even Daisy had quickly picked up that now was the time to remain silent and had dropped her eyes respectfully to her plate. Sophie for once wasn't taking pleasure in her rival getting in trouble, having sensed that now wasn't the time to draw attention to herself. Ethel, of course, had been the last and when she did realize that all eyes were on her she turned and stared him right in the eye. The bold little fool didn't even have the decency to cast her eyes downward.

"I assure you that her ladyship and William did not, Ethel," he said, measuring out each word like Mrs. Patmore would measure out flour. "I will address the least egregious of your beliefs first. William did not flee this house like a cad in the night after making off with plunder. He left to… enlist in the army." He forced himself to say those last few words, still feeling the twinges of regret as he remembered the hastily written letter William had written him and left in his room upon the nightstand. It had spoken of cowardice and shame and how he wouldn't befoul Downton a second more. Carson had yet to show his Lordship the letter and he didn't know if he would, for it had done something nothing else had ever managed to accomplish.

It had made him feel anger towards his employer.

Carson lived for the family. Had made their honor his own. Done all he could to ensure that their home and their name were held in the highest regard. While there had been times he disagreed with their actions he had understood that it wasn't his place to question them. And many times he'd been willing to examine their rational and adjust his own thoughts to fit them. Or, at the very least, find a way to argue in favor of something he personally wasn't pleased about.

And yet to know that his lordship's words had caused William such pain, to make him believe that he, Charles Carson, was ashamed of William…

It was a VERY good thing that his Lordship had allowed him to return downstairs while he handled the investigation of her ladyship's disappearance.

"What he has done was very brave and I will not have you soil his name with tawdry gossip that makes you feel better about your lot in life." Jaw clenching even more Carson bit out, "as for her ladyship I will not allow a single false word to be said against her again at this table or anywhere within this home. No, I do not know where she has gone but I assure you she would not engage in the vile and filthy actions your sinful mind is concocting."

That should have been the end of it. Any other member of the staff... no, any member of ANY staff... would have known that that particular line of thought was truly dead. They would have let it go and moved on, chastised but wiser for their mistake.

It was a sign of how far Downton had fallen that Ethel continued on.

"It is a legitimate line of thought, Mr. Carson." He stared at her, utterly gobsmacked, but before he could speak she pounced like a cat chasing a field mouse. "The footman and the lady of the house disappear on the same night, with only the kitchen maid spotting one of them? People are going to talk."

"Not. In. This. House."

"Nothing wrong with having an opinion, Mr. Carson. We are still free to have one, are we not?" The vile, odious little thing actually had the gull to reach for her tea cup and take a condescending sip. "And taking Lady Lillian, the child born after it seemed quite clear that his lordship was quite past making babies with his wife-"

Carson stood up, his chair clattering to the floor but before he could cast Ethel out Mrs. Hughes held up a hand and stopped him. He turned, thunderous that she would dare stop him from dealing with the gossiping guttersnip, but the flash in her eyes made him pause. The staff always assumed he was the harder of the two of them, the one to fear. But in truth Mrs. Hughes was the one that should have filled them with terror… for while he was stern she could be deviously cruel.

"Well Ethel, you are correct that it is your right to think such things. Just as it is our right, as the head Housekeeper and Butler of Downton, to inform you that servants who have such thoughts aren't welcomed at this table." Ethel merely stared at her and Mrs. Hughes raised an eyebrow. "Are you now deaf as well as vulgar? Get up."

"Oh, so now I'm to eat with the kitchen maids? Banished from a proper table for... for having an opinion?"

"No," Mrs. Hughes snapped off, the words clipped and sharp. "You are "banished" for being a gossiping busybody who doesn't have a lick of sense in her empty little skull and believes that she is destined for grander things when, in fact, she isn't even worthy of her current station. And furthermore you aren't going to be eating with the kitchen maids. I won't have you infecting them." She rose and moved over to Ethel, grabbing her plate with one hand and her arm with the other and hauling her up.

"You're hurting me!" Ethel cried out but if she thought she'd get a champion to rise to her defense she was sourly mistaken.

"No, I'm not. If I were hurting you you'd know." Refusing to release her Mrs. Hughes dragged the maid towards the hall. "Since you wish to bark and screech like a beast you can eat like them: outside."

"Outside!?" Ethel exclaimed as Carson moved to follow them; he didn't even bother to wave off the rest of the staff who'd risen to follow and watch with greedy eyes.

"I'll have Daisy make you up a small table. And when winter comes we'll brush the snow off it."

"You... you can't do this!" Ethel exclaimed.

"Oh I most certainly can. You are allowed to eat at our table out of our good graces." By then she'd reached the door and with a quick thrust forced Ethel's plate into her hand before opening the door and letting the cool fall air rush inside. "You seem to believe that you are able to do as you wish and say what you thhink without consequence. That you, of all creatures in creation, have been blessed to be able to do anything you desire without punishment. I am afraid I must prove that notion false. There are debts that must be paid for having a tongue that can't stop wagging." With a forceful yank she half toss/half led Ethel outside, the maid nearly falling into the dirt. "When you have shown that you can behave like a proper member of the staff you can eat with the staff."

"You... you do this and I'll be gone!" Ethel screamed.

"Will you now? And who will take you on with a reference so horrid it would make a gravedigger blush? Especially when all hear that you left because you weren't allowed to gossip about your employer and then disrespected the butler? Even the most desperate of homes won't let you in even if you started at the very bottom again. No, my dear, I'm afraid you have no choice but to stay and take your lumps." She shrugged. "Or don't. We'll manage." With that she began to shut the door. "Five more minutes till you must get back to work."

And with that she shut the door firmly on Ethel's poleaxed face.

Carson turned and, seeing the servants gawking, raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to join her?"

They scurried back like the hounds of hell were on their heels.

She turned and gave him a dry look. "I suppose you are going to scold me for that?"

"Only because I wish I had been the one to toss her out on her ear," he said with a slight smile, the Head Housekeeper raising an eyebrow before giving him a mirthful look. "Quite ingenious, I'll admit. I'd have never thought of it."

"No offense, Mr. Carson, but you are rather old fashion. New ideas aren't your standard method."

"Why would I be offended by that?" he asked, playing up his role. He might have been a dedicated butler but that didn't mean that he didn't know how to play the game and slip into the role so many expected of him. Sometimes it was rather fun to push his normal actions a step further, just to see how those around him acted. He couldn't dance to music in the servants hall like the young ones did but he could find his own ways of entertaining himself. "I happen to take quite a bit of pride in being old fashioned."

"Quite."

He motioned for her to follow him and the two made their way towards his office, both of them no longer hungry. "How long should we make her stay out there?"

"Oh, no too long. I'm not heartless, Mr. Carson. We'll let her in before the first snowfall. I'd like to wait for at least one rainstorm… that will dampen the fires within her good enough." She paused, pursing her lips in thought. "Though if that bloody girl doesn't learn her lesson she made find herself permanently living out there."

"I'd like to sack her if she made that mistake again. I wanted to sack her back at the table." He motioned for her to sit and he shut the door, to keep any prying ears from listening in. He pushed aside the rejected letters to Lady Mary, not wanting to focus on them for a moment. "Unfortunately she is quite right in one aspect… we do need her right now. We'll be struggling with no footmen, what with William… leaving." He settled into his chair with a weary sigh, suddenly feeling 30 years older. "And I fear with our other loses we'll be in a world of trouble, especially when her ladyship returns."

"Whatever do you mean?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

"Did you notice that Nanny Walter wasn't with us?"

"Yes but I assumed she was still being questioned by his lordship and the constable." Carson had tried to keep word from reaching the downstairs but it had been impossible to keep matters under tight wraps when Sophie had seen the officer arrive and instantly began talking with everyone and anyone.

When it had become clear that her ladyship was not in the house it had fallen to Carson to alert his lordship. At first Lord Grantham had grumpily brushed aside his concern, assuming that Ms. O'Brien had simply missed her ladyship, their paths not crossing, and had told Carson to leave him be. Carson had been rather startled by that but the disaster that had been the concert had left his lordship unable to focus and thus he'd pushed aside his worry. But when morning had come and Carson, himself half asleep with worry, had delivered the news that Lady Grantham and Lillian were still gone his Lordship had gone from moody dismissal to dark rage, demanding to know where they had gone. A search had again been organized but by mid morning all had agreed that the staff's original conclusion was correct: her ladyship wasn't in Downton.

Storming through the estate his Lordship had then sent Simmons down to the village to get the constable, so that they might investigate the matter. Focus had first turned to the last two people to see her Ladyship and Lady Lillian: Ms. O'Brien and Nanny Walter. The two had been summoned to the library and that was when his lordship had demanded Carson leave, that he and the officer would handle things on their own.

"She isn't," Carson said, bringing himself back to the present. "I ran into her just before we ate. She was most upset, stating that his Lordship… well, I won't repeat the words she said, only hope that her emotions were causing her to embellish the cruel things she said were stated by her. But she informed me that since the constable had cleared her of any wrongdoing she was putting in her notice."

"Oh my!" Mrs. Hughes stated. "There was nothing-"

"Nothing I could do," he said, finishing her question. "As I stated, she was very upset. She said that she had served his lordship faithful these last few years and did not deserve the treatment she had received. She then informed me that she didn't blame her ladyship in the slightest for leaving-" 'That miserable bastard who believes himself holier than Christ himself!' had been her words. "-well, leaving Downton."

Mrs. Hughes slumped in her chair. "And if she felt that way… Ms. O'Brien will be far worse."

"It will all depend on her ladyship. I dare say she might stay, though I suppose that will depend on what can be offered as compensation for the interrogation she is undergoing."

There was no 'if' inserted in his sentence. There was no need for one. He knew that her ladyship was all right, that she would return home. To believe otherwise would be to believe that the Lord above was cruel and unjust.

"And they've had no leads?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

He sighed, confirming her question. "None what so ever. Word has been put out throughout the village now for any news of her to be brought to the house but with each passing hour it becomes clear that there will be no information from that front." He leaned forward and sighed. "It just doesn't make any sense. How could she just… disappear? Someone must have seen her and if they did why didn't they come to us? And who could she seek help from? No one from the house, we know that. And no one in the village would dare keep that information from us! It's like she… faded into moonbeams!" He wasn't one for getting fanciful but he couldn't help it; the whole matter utterly puzzled him. It made no sense… she had left Dwonton, with a young child no less, and no one had seen even a glimpse of her? Was it some grand conspiracy? Or a plot far more detailed than he could have ever expected?

"There… is one place she might go," Mrs. Hughes stated hesitantly. "In the village too. Where she might receive help."

"And not tell us?"

"You and I?" she asked. "Oh, they would tell us, if we asked and made it clear our concerns were merely for her safety. But his lordship?"

Carson blinked before he realized what she was hinting at. "They wouldn't. His lordship-"

"-has treated them both poorly and you know it. So their loyalty lies with the family… not with him." She rose up. "I'm going to tell Mrs. Patmore we'll be heading out. His Lordship will be busy for a while, I think, and she can tell him, should he ask, that we went to look again for any sign of her ladyship. But it has to be us… and only us."

He shifted before nodding his head. "I'll go change."

~90 Minutes Later~

"Hello, what can I-oh! Mr. Carson! Mrs. Hughes!"

Mrs. Hughes smiled as she removed her coat. "How many times have I told you, Mr. Bates, you can call me Elsie?"

"And yet you refer to me as "Mr. Bates" instead of John," Mr. Bates said, hobbling from behind the counter of the Grantham Arms and taking Mrs. Hughes' coat. Carson removed his as well, a touch troubled by having the former valet wait on him but seeing Mr. Bates motion for him to relieve himself of the garment he finally did so. "Besides, I doubt very much any of us will ever be able to change what we call each other. There are times Anna slips and calls me "Mr. Bates", after all." He smiled and moved to hang up their coats before motioning for them to sit down near the fireplace, which had a small blaze going. Nothing too large but just enough to chase away the fall chill. "It is ingrained in us… I dare say it would be like changing the color of my eyes to suddenly not address you as Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes."

"I suppose you are right," Mrs. Hughes said, settling in the chair.

"Can I get you anything? We don't have much tea, shipments have been light, but I do have a bit I could spare."

"No, thank you," Carson said politely. He felt terribly awkward about sitting in the Grantham Arms, chatting with Mr. Bates as he was. It just didn't feel right. When a servant left a house usually that was the end of it. They were never seen again and life continued on. Oh, there would be some that would promise to write, to send cards at Christmas, but that always tapered off as both parties continued on with their separate lives. Only twice had he ever seen members of the staff who had left and that had only been a hallboy, Franklin, who had gone to work for a market and delivered groceries to Mrs. Patmore a few times, and a footman, Richard, who'd gotten a job as a valet for Lord Underwood's grandson and come to Downton when Henry Underwood had come to try and win Lady Mary's hand. Otherwise people left and that was that.

To be sitting down then with Mr. Bates was a strange experience for the butler. He wasn't sure if he liked it all that much.

He'd been more than willing to wish the man well as he left service. While he thought service was the pinnacle of dignity and honor one could strive for in the working world he wasn't so blind as not to see that others were needed to make the country continue on. Bread needed to be made, papers printed, and hotels run. So he'd wished Mr. Bates and Anna well and that had been that. Even though they lived in the village he hadn't gone to visit them. Not like Mrs. Hughes, who made a weekly trip to have tea with them. Or Mrs. Patmore who at times went down to give advice to their cook when she wanted to try a new dish. No, the Grantham Arms could have been a walk away or across the world and it wouldn't have mattered to him.

'And it has nothing to do with Anna still being close to Lady Mary?' a traitorous little voice asked him, one that he forced down deep within him.

Mr. Bates settled himself into a chair, shifting so his bad leg was stretched out before him. "Anna will be here in a moment. She's just putting Noah down for a nap. Now then, what brings you both down here?"

"The truth of the matter is," Mrs. Hughes said, shifting so she might better look at the former valet, "we've come to you in a matter of need."

Mr. Bates leaned back at that. "That sounds rather serious."

"It is very serious," Mr. Carson stated. "I don't know if word has traveled down yet about the... unpleasantness that occurred during the concert last night-"

"It has and from a direct source," Mr. Bates stated.

"Then you know of the scene that General Lothrop caused."

The other man's eyes narrowed and he sent Carson's way a glower so dark and formidable that it made the butler actually start a little in its intensity. "Mr. Carson, I respect you greatly. You were kind to me even when you had your doubts about my ability to perform my duties. But Allen... General Lothrop... is a friend of mine. And I will not have him insulted under my roof." Something must have flashed across his face for Mr. Bates held up a hand. "I understand that you have your loyalty to Downton and I have it still as well. But if I must choose between the estate and a dear friend I am afraid to disappoint you but my friend will win out each time."

"Understandable," Mrs. Hughes said before Carson could utter a word. "Forgive us."

"Nothing to forgive," Mr. Bates said in a more cheerful tone. "So long as we understand each other. Now, you were saying?"

"Quite," Carson said, getting back on solid footing. "You see, after that... after the concert Mrs. O'Brien came to us and... well... it is the oddest thing and I suppose it is rather silly of me to come to you as I doubt very much you have any knowledge of it but-"

"Mr. Carson," Anna said, making her presence known. He moved to stand beside Mr. Bates' chair, placing a hand on the top of it. It was so startling to see her not in a maid's uniform but a plain but lovely dress. It was like seeing a purple sun. "You have come here to ask if we saw her ladyship after she and Lady Lillian fled."

The old man stared at the maid, finding himself yet again utterly flummoxed by what he had heard.

"I dare say we have our answer if you know that much," Mrs. Hughes stated.

Anna moved to sit in the chair next to her husband's, holding herself with all the grace and strength the Dowager herself possessed. "You do. Her ladyship did come here."

"What... whatever for?" Carson managed to get out.

"She sought out the General," Anna replied.

"And why would she ever do that?"

"Because the General is the key to seeing her daughters again," Anna retorted.

Mr. Bates continued. "She came to him seeking sanctuary. She knew that he offered hospitality to the girls and wanted the same for herself and Lady Lillian. I do not know what role the concert and its unpleasantness played in her decision but she clearly decided, quite suddenly, to ask for passage to London and welcome into his home so she might see her children again. And she understood that doing so meant that she was casting herself from Downton with little to her name. Thus sanctuary."

"Did she not leave a letter or anything?" Anna asked.

"None whatsoever!" Mrs. Hughes said, sounding as shocked as he himself was.

The former maid shook her head. "I knew I should have asked about that. I assumed she at least would have let you all know she had gone, even if in a note." She sighed. "I imagine this has caused a great disturbance at the House?"

"That, Anna, is putting it lightly," Mrs. Hughes stated.

"Why did you not say a word?" Carson asked. "The moment she arrived why was a message not sent to the house? So that chase could be given?"

"We thought she left a letter or note," Anna reminded him. "And even then... our loyalty it to Downton, even after we left its services. But that doesn't mean that we are loyal only to a single resident of the house. We are loyal to Downton... and her ladyship came to us in her moment of need. We would not betray her trust."

"I... suppose," Carson said, mulling over what she had said. "Though now we might see to putting this entire matter to rest." It was troubling news, to be sure, but to actually know the truth was far better than having no knowledge at all. With facts they could set about setting things right and get their lives back to the way they should be.

"Mr. Carson," Mr. Bates said cautiously, "what do you think is going to happen when you inform his lordship of this?"

"Why he'll go to London and retrieve her ladyship and Lady Lillian, of course!"

The couple shared a look before turning back to stare at him. "And when she doesn't wish to go with his lordship?" Mr. Bates asked.

"Why ever would she not wish to go with him?"

"She left him to go to London... she didn't ask his permission." Mr. Bates leaned forward. "Mr. Carson... she wanted to go. Alone. Without his knowledge."

He quickly pushed aside that line of thought. No good would come from thinking of it. "Well, when his lordship arrives in London her ladyship will have no choice but return with him."

"Will she?" Anna asked skeptically.

"Of course! A wife's place is at her husband's side!"

"Even when she so whole-heartedly disagrees with him?" Anna pressed.

"And do not think that she won't have allies," Mr. Bates stated.

"General Lothrop," Mrs. Hughes stated.

Mr. Bates nodded. "He is a powerful figure in the war effort and is quite beloved in London from what we've heard. All know that it is his office that is keeping their sons fed and warm as best he can. And after what happened after the concert I dare say her ladyship will have a powerful champion should his lordship attempt to force her or Lady Lillian to return before they are ready to do so."

Mr. Carson though shook his head. "We shall see about that." He rose and nodded sharply too them both. "Thank you."

Mr. Bates and Anna once more shared a look and said their goodbyes, Mrs. Hughes hurrying to catch up with him as he made his way out of the Grantham Arms.

"So I suppose we have no choice but to tell his lordship," Mrs. Hughes stated.

"Why wouldn't we?" Carson asked. "He needs to know."

"Yes... but I fear Mr. Bates and Anna are quite right. Things will not turn out as you hope."

"Then let us hope it is you wrong in this matter and not I," Mr. Carson said as they made their way back towards the Abbey, the butler already thinking about how he would break the news to his lordship.

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: A chapter designed to get everyone caught up on what is going on, especially with our shifting sands. Cora has taken after her children and exiled herself from Downton. William has gone off to war. And we are brewing for some confrontations.

But before that we'll have quite a different chapter… because while everyone is now focused on Cora she wasn't the only one to leave. But again, with everyone focused on Cora… it falls to the Dowager herself to go to Mr. Mason and explain where his son has gone.

Onto our plotbunny and it is a rather simple one but also an interesting one: Patrick and his father die and leave a need for an heir and that is Matthew Crawley and Lady mary isn't happy with this. Simple enough, right? Except for one small detail…

…they die when Matthew and Mary are young children.

In other words what would happen if we had Downton Abbey occur when much of the cast was MUCH younger. Robert only a few years into being Lord Grantham, just coming to love Cora and dealing with being a father. Mary has a little girl, strong willed yes but still a child. Carson having just become butler maybe a week or so ago. The Dowager still trying to find her new role now that her husband is dead. Isobel freshly widowed with only her son and now these rich people want Matthew to move into Downton so Robert can raise him? And how would little Mary and little Matthew get on when they are both too young to truly understand what is going on and just see each other as new children that they are suddenly bumping into.

Oh, and baby Sybil learning how to say 'why' and 'no'. A lot.