Downton Abbey 1. What went wrong?

**Disclaimer: All characters belong the Jullian Fellowes, any names that are used are either mine or his. Enjoy.**

**_I suppose_**, she thinks.** _He never really wanted me in the first place_.**

**_He never wanted to know me as a companion, as a wife, as a lover…_**

**_He never wanted to settle down, to leave his precious Downton, to fall in love…_**

_Oh come now Elsie, that's not all true._

_**Be quiet.**_

_He just never wanted to fall in love wit-_

_**Stop it!**_

_With __you__, Elsie._

It hurt. It hurt so badly. The sobs escaped her chapped lips as she tried to understand what happened. What did she do so wrong? Had she pushed him away? Had she not pushed him enough?

She shifted in her bed and saw the dusty mirror to the left of her. The tears didn't stop as she looked in the mirror. That mirror where she sat every morning trying to tame her hair, trying to look her very best for **him.**To at least make herself look appealing. Occasionally she brightened her cheeks with a bit of rouge, or even a hint of lip tint. She even practiced her walk like some silly school girl waiting to be courted by the handsomest boy in her class; swaying her hips in an unseemly manner just for **him. **She tried, she really did but she was no more than a…

_**Scottish Dragon**_

Of course he must have known that she was more than just a strict, cold-hearted…

_Please, stop this Elsie…_

No, she'd look at herself until exhaustion finally overcomes her. She'd continue to blame herself for what happened. To tell herself that she was never good enough for Charles Edward Carson, telling herself that he was better off with his new bride. They will live happily ever after … and she was glad. She would be forever happy for him, because that's what people did when they loved someone.

_**I remember a quote a read in a silly romance novel that said, "If you love someone let them go" Is that not true?**_

_I believe the rest of that wonderful quote was, "If he comes back he's yours."_

_**But he was never mine to begin with…**_

* * *

It was a crisp beautiful morning in August she remembers; autumn, her favorite season of the year. When he comes back from London that is when she knows. She knows that autumn is right around the corner and is deliriously happy to spend another three seasons with him. She likes the crunching of the dry ground beneath her feet, and the pumpkin spice bars Mrs. Patmore makes just for her, or when the staff would start to make fires in all the rooms so warmth surrounds her every step. The way the leaves change colors and fall willingly to ground as if they belonged there, that was her favorite part of all. She remembers every autumn. But this one she'd like to forget.

She looked down at the list of wines that they needed to restock on when she bumped into him. She heard glass shattered as she almost fell to the ground if it wasn't for his large frame to steady her.

"Please watch where you are going Mrs. Hughes! For Lord's sake…" He gruffly ran his fingers through his slick hair as he observed the mess below them. "That was the china for tonight and it looks like not a single piece was salvaged." He sighed loudly and looked at her.

"What? You think was _just_ my fault?" She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a sharp gaze. He was so… so… _infuriating!_ "By all means Mr. Carson you were walking too! You should have looked where you were going."

"While carrying a twenty pound load of china you suggest I should look up and let something fall? Have you any idea how ridiculous you are being? Can you not for one second stop preoccupying yourself with meaninglessness tasks and for once **focus**!" He was furious now. His cheeks were a deep read and he was starting to perspire.

"**Me?!** I'm the ridiculous one now? Well I'll have you know tha-"

"Is there a problem?" The soft voice of Lady Mary Crawley interrupted her. They both turned around abruptly, so fast that Elsie, yet again, slipped on a piece of broken china. He quickly grabbed her wrist and slipped his other arm around her waist to ensure that she was properly grounded to the floor. A slight burst of flame spread through Elsie as he held her like this. She looked up at his concerning gaze and blushed furiously.

"Ahem."

They split apart quickly.

"My lady, there is no problem, just a slight misunderstanding. I bumped into Mrs. Hughes and have shattered the dinner china. I'm so dreadfully sorry, my lady. I will be glad to repay for the loss." He said it so poised and under control you would have never known he was just incredibly upset not a minute ago. She smiled at his clandestine apology.

"No no Carson it was just a mistake, no need to repay anyone. At least nobody was hurt, isn't that right Mrs. Hughes?" Mary gave a sly smirk as she started to walk away from the both of them.

"I…" Elsie blushed again at the comment of her constant clumsiness. But Mary was already halfway up the stairs to even notice the poor woman's attempt to apologize.

"Well…" He said to wake her up from her thoughts. "I'll get the broom."

"Thank you, Mr. Carson…" She touched his forearm and grinned at him.

His own mouth seemed to lift a little as he looked down at her hand on him. It grew immensely as he looked back up at her. His eyes seemed to hint something. She couldn't decipher what but she knew there was something there…

"Alright then, will you be alright to clean this up on your own? I need to run out for a bit, I need to fetch Mrs. Patmore some silly spice or salt or something. I can't remember…" She let go of his arm and was about to take a step backwards and be on her merry way. "Ah, and this is the wine we need to restock, I checked the inventory list and thought I should give it to you." She smiled and handed him the list.

Their hands brushed and he tensed. She pulled away and stared at him while he looked over the wines rather coldly.

"Marvelous… And yes, by all means please fetch whatever Mrs. Patmore needs." He gave her a curt nod and walked away from her.

_Well alright then…_

She frowned, gathered her coat and hat, and left for the village, without a single thought of what had happened.

* * *

After he swept the broken pieces from the ground and disposed of them. He strolled into the staff hall to gather the paper that he left there this morning.

Nothing was going his way today, first of all. It was inevitable something like this was going to happen. There sat Thomas leisurely smoking sipping on a glass of wine.

"Thomas! What on earth do you think you are doing!?" He was so upset he seemed to spit fire. His entire face seemed to flame up as he witnessed this foul act.

Thomas jumped out of his chair so quick it toppled over onto the floor.

"Have you any idea what the punishment for this sort of behavior is!? I could fire you on the spot! Now put that damned thing out or I'll put it out for you!" He grabbed the half full wine glass intending to wash it down the sink with the rest of his bloody day. Gripping the glass as tight as he was you would expect the glass to shatter into a million pieces (not the first time today). He glared at Thomas who was furiously fixing his attire, trying to explain to the butler that the wine was a gift and that he was just having 'one glass'.

Waving his pitiful excuses off Carson sent him away to polish the silver (which he would end up re-polishing anyways) as punishment.

Now walking along the hallway towards the kitchen he was muttering curses and insults under his breath, namely towards Thomas. Looking at the wine slosh around in the glass he didn't even notice her coming. Why would he it wasn't like it was the first time that this happened today.

They finally crashed into one another, wine spilling all over his crisp white shirt.

"Ugh! Mrs. Hughes not agai-"

He looked up to the woman who was obviously not Elsie Hughes. She was frantically trying to apologize and took out a peach colored handkerchief from her bag.

"I am so sorry, sir! I was not looking where I was going it was entirely my own fault. Please, let me help you with that." She pressed the cloth to his chest, failing to soak up the spilt wine. "Oh dear me… I feel most obligated to purchase you a new shirt…"

She looked up and smiled hoping to ease the tension that she assumed was growing between them. He had hardly said a word and she just crashed practically right into him. He stared at her with his mouth open and didn't even have the slightest hint of anger upon his face. In fact he seemed almost… intrigued by her.

All he could think about was how much she smelled up vanilla. The way her blonde locks fell into her face as she tried to clean the spilled mess upon his chest made his heart flutter. She was so sorry and he could tell she meant it. He smiled and looked at her hand on his chest. It was abnormal for a woman to be touching him in such a way, even if it was only to tidy him up. He never believed in love at first sight but by God he was just simply enchanted by this woman. He gazed into her chocolate brown eyes and tried to come up with his first words he would speak to her.

"I'm… I'm sorry… I was just trying to… I mean." He was so flustered he couldn't even fathom the proper words. "What I meant to say is… it is no problem at all. The seam on the shoulder was falling apart and I needed a new shirt anyways." He chuckled and continued to make a complete fool of himself. But he could care less.

"Oh… Well good. That's good." She innocently looked to the ground her hand still resting on his chest, unmoving. He was so warm she could hardly bear it.

"I… I'm Charles." He picked up her hand and kissed it. "Charles Carson, at your service."

Her cheeks turned a light pink and she nodded her head to his introduction.

"I feel terribly embarrassed. I've ruined your shirt and we haven't even had a proper introduction yet... you flatter me." She let go of his hand and placed the stained handkerchief in her bag. "I'm Grace O'Donnell. I'm Mrs. Crawley's new head house maid. I… She insisted that I come here and make a friend or two…" Grace was nervously wringing her hands and touching and pulling at her full bottom lip. Constantly fiddling with her hair or looking down at her smooth slim hands.

"Well…" He said in a huff "You've got one friend now…. Let me be the first to say I'd be glad to have a friend at this time of my life. They don't come as easily these days." He almost giggled he was so nervous.

They were both so nervous and neither knew why exactly.

"Perhaps…" He ventured out and tried to find a proper way of saying the things he wished to say. "Perhaps, you would like to join me for dinner... To repay for the mess you've made" She gave him the most appalled yet coy look he'd ever seen.

_Oh for lord's sake, you've only just met this woman and you think it's proper to just flat out say you'd like to enjoy a dinner._

_**Well… it's not like it's by any means ROMANTIC. I would just like to welcome her to the town. To Downton…**_

_She doesn't work at Downton, you fool._

_**Oh shut up you damned f-**_

_Uh-uh… No foul language in front of the lady…_

"Oh… Mr. Carson I'd be delighted. It's just I don't know if Mrs. Crawley would appreciate me being away the first night on the job." That's when he heard her marvelous laugh. Almost like a song from a bird, light but not too high or harsh.

"Do not worry about a thing, Mrs. Crawley will be joining the family for dinner tonight as well. I'd be happy to discuss this with her if you'd like…" His smile was the most genuine smile. He hadn't smiled that way since Lady Mary's wedding.

"Why thank you! Yes, yes I'd be glad to have the company." She fumbled with her bag and straightened up tall. "I'll be here around…. Seven sharp? Is that alright?"

"By all means you are welcome whenever please make yourself at home. If I'm not down from the family's dinner, you may wait for me in my study. It's just 2 two doors down, to the left. Do you see it?" He pointed crookedly to his pantry door, the uncaringly clapped his hands together in front of him.

"I see, yes. Well it has been a marvelous interlude… Very… Educational you might say. I'll be sure to look where I'm going from now on." She extended her right hand as a sign that she'd like to shake his hand as a friendly goodbye. "Mr. Carson." She grinned like a fool, her white teeth almost blinding him. (what wonderful personal hygiene)

He didn't shake her hand, no. He places a kiss just on the very tips of her fingers and squeezed her wrist in admiration.

"See you soon, Ms. O'Donnell." He let go of her hand and showed her out the door to head home. He watched her walk away until she was clear out of his sight. He must be mad to be feeling this way. Never had he felt such immense feeling for a woman, except…

_**Oh no, I would never… She's my friend and ONLY my friend.**_

_No one asked… _

_**Would you please go away?**_

_Huhf… _

And that was that. The first day he'd fallen in love. (with the wrong person of course). But little did he know that the woman that felt so strongly for him had witnessed every heartbreaking second of the incident between Grace O'Donnell and Charles. She had never felt this way, it was normally butterflies and slight pangs in her chest (to know she still felt something). Now it was entirely different. She was short of breath and felt soft, so very very… soft. It felt as if she was some monster in a novel by Mary Shelley. Being poked and prodded and cutting open her already dead heart. She closed the door to her pantry and slumped into her desk chair. What had gone so wrong?


	2. Heartache

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews! I hope you girls aren't too sad! I promise a somewhat happy ending… Maybe, I haven't decided! I've just had oral surgery (I know) So, I hope to be updating daily, maybe even once or twice a day! What a treat! Anyways, I do hope you enjoy my story! By the way if you have not already caught on, when written **_**italics and bold **_**that is the one particular persons thoughts, but when written in just **_italics _**that is the persons conscience. Alright!**** I love each and every one of your reviews it makes me want to write more! Ugh alright, not as much angst as last, but do have fun! Love you all, mwah! xoxo**

After Elsie walked out the door she vowed she wouldn't think about what just happened all day. Charles has been acting strange a lot lately. Although she cared very deeply for this man, she would never dare to pursue him with such desire that he would know her intentions. It was just something that Elsie Hughes would do, never. There was one rule if you were love with your best friend, hide it as best as you can.

Elsie, half way down the road, stopped and turned her head to the right when she heard the clatter of an automobile screech to a halt. When she saw the door open she fully turned around to see the woman step out of the vehicle.

Young Lady Edith Crawley's shoes were the first thing she saw. The door shut and she spoke "Mrs. Hughes! What on Earth are you doing walking by yourself?" She started to venture towards Elsie, with her high class stride that Elsie was beyond envious of.

"Lady Edith, please do not worry about me. I'm almost to the village anyways; a bit of fresh air could never hurt this old lady." She chuckled at her own crude remark about herself and waved off Lady Edith's persistent attempts to give her a ride.

Edith was about to give up hope with Elsie until an idea hit her. "Please Mrs. Hughes I would most enjoy the company. I feel as if I've never really gotten to know you at all. Please I insist I just need to purchase a new dress and we can go on a little shopping spree!" Her smile was almost heartbreaking. "I always need a new companion, you know... It seems these days no one wants to talk that much." She scoffed almost in tears.

It broke Elsie's heart.

"I would be _most_ delighted my lady, thank you." She placed a hand on Lady Edith and smiled at the young woman like she has never smiled before. Maybe a change was needed between the two. It was always Lady Sybil (gods bless) and Lady Mary that got all the attention when they were children... and I suppose when they were older. And although each one of the girls had had equal heartbreak it would seem that no one seemed to notice Edith. And if they did they highly disapproved of whatever she was doing. She and the lady had never talked woman to woman before and Elsie thought it's about time they did.

They hopped into the car and started up idle chatter. Why can't servants and their bosses have the right to be friendly once in a while anyways?

By the time they were in the village they had laughed their way into hysterics. It was nice... Ever since Mr. Crawley had passed on this was the first time in a very long time either of them had actually enjoyed themselves immensely. It only took Elsie a minute or two in the spice shop to locate the proper item. She paid and they continued on.

At the tailors they had an assortment of gorgeous ball gowns and dresses for everyday but, the one section that caught her eye was the undergarments. It was so very embarrassing to be so amused but she couldn't restrain herself from glancing every now and then…

Elsie was currently flicking through the black dresses, the type she wore every day, but she couldn't help herself! She kept glancing over at the unseemly, inappropriate for a woman her age section! Why would anyone want to see someone like her, a fat old cow, look like someone she's not? Younger more… vibrant looking women should be wearing this stuff in the prime of their lives. Not her, when her life was nearly to the end, for heaven's sake!

_**Silk… I've never owned silk…**_

_That's because someone of your standard would never be caught alive or dead buying silk. Only ladies can wear silk!_

_**I admit I'm no lady but…**_

_Elsie Marie Hughes, he would be appalled._

_**I said nothing about him!**_

_Oh yes, but you were thinking about him!_

_**Oh will you be quiet!**_

"Oh to hell with it," Elsie cursed and started walking to the beautiful under garments. She touched the fabric, it was so foreign. It seemed to glide over her fingers and slip right out of her palm. It was gorgeous she couldn't deny it, it was long and flowed elegantly to the floor, it was not something with an embarrassing cut. Not at all, but it did have a lace trimming around the bust area, very appealing.

"I see you found something you like." Edith said approaching her from behind. "I like it… You'd look fabulous in it, you know!" She smiled sincerely and patted Mrs. Hughes' shoulder. By this moment in the conversation Elsie had released the fabric and was turning around to face this awkward moment in her life.

"I would never, my lady; just simply admiring the quality of such a lovely piece of clothing." She coughed a bit to hide her shaky voice.

"Alright… Well if you will wait in the car, I'll be out in short while. Just have to purchase a few personal items." She waved off Mrs. Hughes and started off towards the back where the sales lady was waiting for her to pick up her frock.

Elsie didn't know how to respond but she left the woman in peace and did as she was told. She descended towards the automobile and climbed in the back. She was beyond embarrassed at what had just happened.

_**What Mrs. Edith must think of me…? Oh lord…**_

_She thinks you are woman, Elsie, and that you have every right to purchase something beautiful for yourself._

_**She probably thinks I'm gallivantly walking out with men… Like some… Oh I don't even know. I'm just so embarrassed! What on Earth was I thinking walking over there? **_

_You were thinking of him._

She wanted to cry. Of course she was thinking of him, of a different life with him by all means. A life where she could wear such things and he would ravish her against the nearest wall. Where he would kiss her with all the love in the world and love her so much that it hurt (in a good way). A life where he would come home, their home, and smile at her: not the simple smile he used when sitting in church, or talking to one of the servants. No, that smile he only reserved for her and … Lady Mary… He hadn't seen that smile since Mary's wedding and it hurt.

_Everything seems to hurt with this man._

The car door opened and Edith proceeded to climb up in the car with the chauffer carrying her multiple bags behind her.

"Oh I'll only be requiring this one." She reached out for the neatly wrapped box and set it beside her. "The rest you may put in the front. Thank you" She smiled at the man.

"If you don't mind me asking, my lady; why only that one?" Elsie was merely curious, not trying to by nosy.

"Oh, well it's a gift." Edith passed the box to Elsie with a wide smile. "A thank you gift really, for accompanying me today. I really enjoyed our time together, and hope to do it again sometime very soon. You were great company." She smile again, and Elsie only blushed.

Elsie reached for the box and felt as though she did not by any means deserve this. She only walked and chatted with the young woman. The box was black with a silk ribbon on the top, the contents Elsie assumed she knew what it was but…

_**Oh, I don't care.**_

She released the ribbon with sheer excitement and pushed it aside. Lifting the top of the box she couldn't help to be beyond excited. There in the box sat the undergarment, but not quite the same.

"I thought maybe, this would look compliment your eyes. Do you like it?" Edith giggled almost girlishly.

"Oh… My lady… I don't know what to say…"

The dress was a light blue with black lace trimming. It was a set really; underneath the garment was a black silk robe to go with it.

"Say that you love it! Please!" Edith was ecstatically happy about her purchase for Mrs. Hughes. "Every woman should have a nice nightgown in my opinion."

"I love it… Yes I adore it. Thank you so much my lady. I wish I could repay the favor…" Elsie was almost in tears to be quite honest. Such sentiment to come from Edith was overwhelming.

They chatted the rest of the way home. Edith insisted that Elsie come through the front entrance with her while they continued to have a conversation about the upcoming ball. They bid each other a good day and went their separate ways. Elsie couldn't wait to tell Charles about her day. Tell her all the things that she and Lady Edith talked about, about how they became closer. He'd probably disapprove immensely but she had to tell _someone_. Maybe even show him what she got…

_You're silly, Elsie._

She didn't care though. She was explicitly happy and she couldn't think of one thing that would ruin such a day like this. In fact, she wouldn't let anything ruin this day for her. She'd march downstairs and drag Charles into her pantry and just talk, and he'd better listen.

She descended down the stairs to the servant's hall and stopped abruptly. She had heard something… Or someone… Not just someone it was Charles himself! He seemed furiously angry so she descended all the way and was about to turn the corner to discuss whatever was bothering him when she heard his loud voice say her name.

She peak around the corner, and witnessed it all.

The whole thing she saw, the apology, the kissing of hands, the invitation to dinner. Her heart dropped to her stomach; surely he was just trying to be friendly.

_He's never kissed your hand before Els._

That's when she felt them coming. The tears welling in her eyes, she couldn't take it anymore. As he was escorting her out the door this was her moment to sneak into her pantry unnoticed. Right as she was about to close the door, she saw him. He was leaned up against the door with an empty wine glass dangling from his hand, he sighed and that was it. She shut the door and slumped into her chair.

_What was the thing about nothing ruining your day? Hmm?_

_**Please… Not right now… Please…**_

She sobbed and held her face in her hands.

_Elsie… _

_**I said not right now!**_

Everything he did with that woman was the complete opposite he did with her. Everything, from the bumping into one another, to the way he looked at her, the way he smiled… Oh god that smile.

She sobbed again.

_**I thought that he…**_

_Els…_

_**I thought he want to…**_

_Please stop._

And she did. She took the box that Lady Edith gave her a disposed of it in her waste basket. He would never want to see her in it anyways. He would use his charming smile for a woman he just met and he wouldn't even acknowledge her.

_**Is this what it feels like?**_

_What my dear?_

_**Heartache?**_

_Yes Elsie… Yes_

***May be changed to M in next chapter.***


	3. Comfort

**A/N: Alright, it's decided. You will all have a happy ending, I promise! This story has been changed to M… You'll see why… Enjoy!**

* * *

It has been over 2 hours since Carson has seen Mrs. Hughes, and if he was to be quite honest with himself, he was beyond worried. All the scenarios in his head would not stop. She could have been kidnapped, or stop on the road by a strange man who would want nothing more than to… Oh he couldn't even think of it.

Of course he had thought about _it_ with her, but not in an inappropriate manner. He'd imagined a house, with two or three little ones running about. He'd imagined a cottage somewhere in the country where it was just the two of them. Or Paris on their…

_Well, just say it you daft man. You've already imagined children with the woman._

_**I will not say anything.**_

_Fine. I'll say it for you. You're honeymoon. There I said it._

Married and on their way to Paris, that's one dream he'll never forget as long as he lives. He'd be a fool and carry her over the threshold, ravish her against every possible surface in the room. He'd run his hands under and over every part on her body. He'd explore her inner most sanctum and …

_**Stop it.**_

_No, do go on. This is the most excited you've been in years._

_**I really do despise you sometimes.**_

After his thoughts were all vanished with the thought of her and him and children, Carson decided to get up from his grimy old desk and at least find out if anyone had seen her. He opened his door and ventured out into the hall where they had bumped into each other this very morning. Charles felt an utmost regret for the things that he had said and done and had wanted nothing more to apologize to her. How could have he been so harsh to her?

Well no more regret, he'd say he was sorry as soon as she was back. After all, she would come to him to tell him an outrageous tale about her walk to the village. She always did, not that he minded at all.

_**If she had come home-**_

_You mean back._

_**Yes… Yes I mean back.**_

If she had come back and was cross with him she'd be in her pantry… But why on Earth would she be cross with him? Had he really done anything wrong?

He knocked on her door and entered. The sight he saw was something he'd never wish to forget. In a way it almost broke his heart and in another way it made it swell with pride. Then again… it made him forget his place and almost made him furious.

Their sat Elsie Hughes curled up in her chair with her arms across her stomach sleeping. He saw her shoes on the floor and her toes were curled under her bottom in a most feminine matter. He dare not wake her, for he would hate to forget this image. He had to though; he had to wake her from her peaceful slumber, he had to tell her of his day, and she had to tell him of hers. Then they would leave her pantry and get ready to face the rest of the day, with dinner, and normally a cup of tea or wine, together.

_Dinner, my friend._

_**Oh, blast.**_

Carson had almost forgotten about his brief interlude with Grace. He had to wake up Mrs. Hughes, tell her to prepare herself for their guest for tonight. The dress she was currently wearing was not something presentable for dinner. He wanted everything to be perfect for Mrs. O'Donnell, and perfect he shall get.

He was crossing the threshold into her pantry when he saw the box in the waste basket.

_**It must have fallen in there. She surely wouldn't buy a new frock and dispose of it like that.**_

Charles picked up the box but it seemed to crumble in his hands, the ribbon wasn't properly securing the item and it fell to the floor silently. The fabric slipped through his hands and he finally got a good look at it.

_**Oh my lord…**_

_Well, she was certainly feeling a little frivolous today, hmm?_

_**It will look wonderful on her…**_

_Yeah, well you'll never see her in it, so keep those feelings buried deep._

He folded it with much difficulty the fabric kept slipping, it was so foreign.

_Or maybe it's your bloody hands. They're shaking like a tambourine._

The garment was finally folded and he tightened the bow around the box to make sure it was secure. He didn't want another incident like that to happen again. Setting the box aside on her desk he was by her side, shaking her silently, just not harsh enough to jolt her awake. He wouldn't want to make her panic or think there was something wrong.

Charles rubbed her arm and said "Mrs. Hughes…"

"Mmm…. Charles." She rubbed her head against her shoulder and seemed to get into an even more comfortable position. She seemed to snuggle closer to the warmth of his hand placing her own over his lacing her hand with his. It was almost childlike but he knew she was doing this because she was probably still deeply in sleep. It wasn't proper and she would know that as soon as she was awake… But he didn't want her to be. His feelings were all mixed up and he didn't know what to do next.

_Leave her be, Charles._

_**I can't… She needs to get ready…**_

Elsie shifted again and seemed to stir in her chair coming to her senses, she opened her eyes. She saw his face and smiled. It must have seemed like a dream to her.

"Mrs. Hughes…" Charles said softly making sure she was paying attention. He removed his hand and that's when she was fully awake, reminiscing about what had happened. "I don't know how long you've been sleeping but, I've found you and thought I should awaken you. Dinner should be served in about an hour." He smiled slightly at her and she thought it must have all be a dream; everything that happened with that woman was just a horrible dream. She smiled back and nodded at him. They were merely inches from one another and she could feel his soft breath on her face; it wasn't a dream she knew, she felt at home with him like this.

He stood up and that feeling diminished as quickly as it came.

Disappointed, Elsie sighed and stood up bare foot and padded across the room looking for her shoes. Charles held them up and laughed at her.

"You are very mean to me, you know?" She snatched the shoes from his hands and slapped his arm with a giggle herself. This was unusual, she almost felt as if she was married to Charles with the way he was acting. The way they were both acting to be quite honest with herself. She couldn't remember the last time they flirted like this. It was nice.

He chuckled and was on his way out the door when he turned around and said the unthinkable, "Oh, Mrs. Hughes, we have a guest for dinner tonight. She'll be here by seven, please try to look presentable." And with that, the door shut behind him.

* * *

She was presentable as Charles wanted her. In her normal black dress she descended the stairs with a frown on her face. The staff must have noticed her demure because she kept getting curious glances her way. Elsie decided to retire to her sitting room until the dinner bell had rung. She had no need to present herself to this woman until she absolutely needed to.

Slumping down into her chair for the second time today she felt a wave of exhaustion was over her as she sighed.

_**I'm getting far too old for this.**_

_Are you referring to the exercise, or the feeling love?_

_**Both I suppose.**_

_You don't even know if he intends to see her again after tonight, for all you know she could be ghastly and pig nosed. She could be the most improper woman on the existence of this Earth and here you are sulking in your room._

_**He would have never invited her if he didn't feel she had a certain charm to her.**_

_You know I try to be the positive side of yourself but you only bring me down with you. I'll just stop trying._

_**Thank you.**_

She chuckled at her own feud with herself when she noticed the box that was placed on her desk.

"What a silly man." Elsie sat up and touched the box with her palm. He may not ever see it on her but it was a gift, and she had no right to just dispose of it like that. Charles certainly must have noticed it in the bin when he came in and place it on my desk.

_Very thoughtful… You don't think he peaked do you?_

_**Why on Earth would he have the desire to?**_

_Well… Aren't you just a ray of sunshine?_

_**Cheeky.**_

The knock on the door startled her out of her daze.

Anna opened the door and told Elsie that the dinner gong had been rung and was just making sure she was alright. She told Anna that she must have dozed off for a bit and hadn't heard it. Exiting her pantry with the woman they walked towards the staff's dinning room. Elsie halted.

"Anna? Did Mr. Carson's lady friend ever come by?"

"Oh, you mean Mrs. O'Donnell? She's in the dinner room with everyone else. Very lovely lady I might add she's very friendly." Elsie knew that Anna was not trying to be harsh but, she couldn't help but feel that Anna was punishing her for some reason.

They entered the room and everyone stood except Mrs. O'Donnell.

_Rude._

She was seated in Elsie's spot and that made her absolutely furious. How dare this woman barge into her house and sit next to her man.

"Ah, Mrs. Hughes, I thought you had fallen ill. I knew you wouldn't mind if our guest sat beside me." Charles smiled at her and she couldn't refuse. How could she refuse him really?

Elsie shook he head and sat at the very opposite end of the table, so that she was facing Charles. She couldn't remember being this far away from him before while seated at the table. It felt so odd not being able to hear their conversation. She heard the laughter of the servants at the end of the table and it felt like someone had dropped a heavy sack on her stomach. It ached with the rest of her body. Charles had never looked so happier with this woman. He was engaging in conversation with almost every person at the table (something of which he never did). He was smiling and enjoying himself… without her.

_He seems very happy, don't you think?_

_**Yes… Very.**_

"Are you alright Mrs. Hughes?" Mrs. Patmore came up beside her and whispered, "You haven't even touched your dinner. Is there something I can get you?" Beryl had become one of her dearest friend ever since her cancer scare. She knew that Beryl knew what was going on; she could tell by the way that she kept looking at her.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Patmore. I don't feel very well. I think I'll retire for tonight." Elsie stood up and smoothed the invisible creases in her dress trying not to make eye contact with the blasted man. She walked out of the room without even a whisper of goodnight amongst the staff; she just kept on walking hoping to find relief in some way.

Elsie ended up staying in her pantry.

_**I've got work anyways.**_

_Work, yes… Okay._

She set aside the terrible box and started to work, with not much success, on her ledgers.

_**Might as well get my head off that dreadful man… **_

Time passed and she heard the footsteps of the staff retiring for bed. Glancing at the hanging clock above her door she sighed. 11:38

_It's late, Elsie. You should retire for the night._

_**I'm not tired. **_

_As you wish._

She scribbled at the menu for next week's ball, some silly autumn festival that her ladyship insisted on having. Just more work for her and the rest of her girls. Resting her hands on her desk she twisted her joints with the sounds of sickly cracking coming from her bones.

"I've never felt so old," Elsie said to no one in particular. She rolled her head and closed her eyes mulling over the events of today. "What a terrible day."

"Not one for the books I'm guessing?" Elsie jumped out of her chair when she heard his voice. "I didn't mean to startle you Mrs. Hughes… it's just you left without a word at dinner, I thought I'd bring you some tea." His mouth turned up just a little at the sight of her, standing there so tall and proper, no shoes (again) just staring at him with her deep gaze.

"I see." Elsie sighed and rubbed her hand over the back of her neck. Her hair seemed to be coming undone and loose strands hung around her head. "Well, I'm terribly sorry but I was just about to retire for the evening…" She grabbed her shoes from the floor and started to tidy up her desk, obviously trying to avoid eye contact with the man just a mere few feet away from her.

She closed her ledger book and glanced at the box to the left of her.

_**Just grab it.**_

Elsie placed the box under her arm and started to walk pass him when she felt his hand grip her wrist. She halted in her tracks but didn't turn.

"Did I do something wrong? If this is about our fight this morning-"

"No, Mr. Carson. It's not about our silly fall out." She rubbed her eyes and slumped. "I really was about to retire, I've had a long day." Turning around to sneak a peek at his face she almost certainly regretted it. He was giving her those big brown eyed gaze and it melted her heart for a second.

"Would you like to discuss it?" His thumb ran over her pulse point in an almost loving way it sent shivers up her arm. He had no idea what he did to her. One touch and she was practically falling into his arms begging for his touch.

"No." She pulled her hand away and descended up the stairs bare foot and not daring to turn around for fearing she might run right back to him.

_**It's going to be a long night.**_

Finally closing the door between her and the world she began to undress herself. Leisurely peeling each item of clothing from her body; she didn't even properly place them in the hamper. Flinging the meaningless garments around the room she stood in front of her mirror completely naked. Her stomach didn't seem as tight as it used to be. Her breasts were certainly the same size but they seemed to be not as perky as when she was younger. Her thighs were the same. All those years of walking up and down stairs and walking to and from the village certainly did her some good. She wasn't unappealing. She wasn't gorgeous either. Elsie began the remove the pins from her hair place each individually down on the vanity. The click of the pin hitting the table kept her sane. A comfort to her really, to know that this was all real, she was real.

Her hair flowed down to her bottom, long and luscious. Running her fingers through her locks she thought about how she had always loved her hair, but now it seemed to be greying. The chestnut brown seemed to be fading every moment of the day. Elsie couldn't imagine herself with completely white hair. Old and alone with only her white hair to let her know that the days have passed and she was coming to the end of her days.

She brushed her long lengths until each strand glistened in the light of the moon. Unboxing the nightgown that she had been so fond of at first, she placed it over her head. The fabric grazed her already taunt nipples and she groaned. Silk was something she could definitely get used to.

The clock chimed one. Stretching out her limbs she decided that sleep would not come tonight. Wrapping the matching silk robe around her chilled body she opened the door.

_**Tea sounds good I must admit…**_

Her small feet padded against the wooden floor as she opened the door between the men and women's corridors. She'd done this so many times she had perfected to technique. The door creaked so she had to stop halfway so that it would not rouse the sleeping servants. Slipping between the crack she left it open for when she returned. She passed Charles room and practically ran the rest of the way so she didn't stare too long at his door; hoping for something that would never happen she was sure of it.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs she didn't even bother to turn on the lights. Elsie knew these corridors like the back of her aging hand. Her frame stopped when she saw his pantry lights on.

_**Should I turn around?**_

_Don't be daft. You are just getting tea, not plotting to kill anyone._

Her body stopped right outside his sanctuary and she listened…

No tapping of a foot, no scribbling of a pen against paper, not even the sound of his light snoring. She peeked inside to find the room completely empty of any life. He had carelessly left the light on, as always. People assumed he was the most organized and routine worthy man in existence, but little did they know that Charles Carson was completely lazy when it came to electricity. It made no sense to Elsie considering electricity was meant to make life easier. The man must have thought the light would turn off by itself.

Walking into his pantry she went to turn the lamp off when she stopped. Elsie closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. Oh lord, how his scent good leave her knees wobbly and her head in a daze. She must be mad because she was thinking of **the most** inappropriate things right now.

_Are you really going to do this Elsie?_

_**It would release some of the stress…**_

She closed the door just enough so there was only a slim ray of light casting into the hall. Elsie undid the belt of her robe and let it cascade to the floor.

* * *

He didn't know what he was doing up so late at night. If he thought back to a night that was as eventful as this he would find nothing but emptiness in his mind. Here he was watching Elsie Hughes removing her robe, in his pantry no less…

_**You don't think…**_

_Oh I do think._

_**Not in my pantry though…**_

_Oh yes, in your pantry._

He had to be quiet or he would disturb her peace. Charles hated watching her like this. He hated that he was going to remember what was about to happen for the rest of his days.

_**You are no better than a young teenager sneaking a peek.**_

He closed his eyes and listened. The rusting of fabric as she rubbed her palms over her breasts, the moaning that accompanied it. His breath hitched when he heard her. Gods, he wish that was him in there, pleasuring her like that; making her moan like that. His hands clenched into a fist, he wouldn't last if he didn't keep himself under control.

_This is not how the Butler of Downton Abbey should be acting, Charles._

_**Please, just a minute more I swear.**_

Carson opened his eyes and watched as she pulled at her taunt nipples, straining them against that perfect nightgown. Elsie moved her hands up and down her body creating a luscious friction of silk and skin. She rolled her head back and continued to rub her breasts in a most provocative manner. He couldn't take it. His Elsie was in there pleasuring herself and all he could do was watch. She practically glided to the couch by the door and sat down. Was she having second thoughts? About how improper this was?

_**This really is most inappropriate.**_

If he wasn't enjoying himself so much he would have scolded her. Spanking that delicious behind of her-

_Charles…_

_**Sorry.**_

She lies down and shuts her eyes. Obviously she didn't want to see herself doing this to herself; she was imagining someone else.

_**God's let it be me.**_

Gripping her breasts fiercely with one hand she moaned loudly. Her breaths were coming in short gasps as she hiked up her dress. That is where he could see her fully and almost completely, her body was nothing short than beautiful. He took a step back to hide himself a little more, not that she was looking his way anyways. He closed his eyes and steadied his own breathing.

_**Inhale… Exhale…**_

"Mmm… Charles." His eyes opened fully as he had heard her say the exact same thing while rousing her from her sleep today. Was this what she was dreaming about? Him and her, together? Oh gods, he saw her hands moving in and out at a steady pace, pleasuring herself, moaning to herself. She was close, he could tell.

_Give her some privacy you fool._

He turned around and heard her breath come in a deep breath. Charles shook his head and rubbed his weary eyes.

_**It has to be a dream. It just has to be.**_

His heart constricted when he heard the next sound emit from her body. Her whimpering sobs seemed to come more easily from her. He wanted to comfort her.

"Oh, Charles." He saw her rest her head in her hands, those same hands that had ran over her body envisioning his own. Her body wracked in sobs.

_Leave._

And that's exactly what he did.

He left.

Left her to comfort herself.


	4. Rain and Thunder

**A/N: Well this chapter was longer than I intended but, there are a few parts that I can't wait for you girls to read! I rewrote this chapter twice and I found that this one was **_**by far**_** better. I do enjoy your reviews so if you would like to leave me a gift that would be delightful! xoxo**

* * *

"D'you think he fancies 'er?" Daisy said while mopping up the spilt tea on the table.

"Of course he fancies her! She's been here 3 times this week for dinner!" Thomas scoffed at the poor girl's ignorance. He puffed his chest out and released the smoke that was trapped inside his lungs, lazily creating a stream of grey clouds.

Today had been rather slow for the staff. It had been non-stop raining. Normally on days like this the Crawley girls wouldn't bother to leave their beds. After all, what really was the point? The staff would finish their duties and when there was nothing left to do they would sit around the table sharing meaningless gossip. Occasionally one of the bells would ring but other than that the only thing they had to worry about was dinner.

Currently around the table were Mr. and Mrs. Bates, O'Brien, Thomas and a few of the kitchen maids. Gossip was always their forte. With such a large estate as Downton Abbey there was always a rumor going around but, for once this piece of gossip was about none other than the Butler. It was scandalous. If there was something going around that table about Charles Carson it was not going to be pretty. Ever since he stepped foot in that house he was never the center of attention with these sort of things; he had liked to stay low never wanting to risk his job in any way. It was exciting to all the young maids to hear about Carson fancying someone!

"At his age? He must have taken a wrong turn." O'Brien gritted her teeth and flipped through one of her novels.

"Really, Miss O'Brien. Can't a man fancy a woman without such cruel accusations?" Anna was always the one with the counter remark when it came to insults. She always stood up for the one that was being picked on. It was just her nature, sweet Anna.

"Mr. Carson is hardly a proper man, in my opinion. He's so … scheduled; I can almost certainly tell what he's going to say when he opens his mouth." O'Brien was never one to give up a fight about her opinion. She'd properly state it and anyone who says otherwise would get a right smack in the face.

"Well, if he fancies Ms. O'Donnell … What about Mrs. Hughes?" Daisy stood in the doorway holding the sopping dishrag. It seemed as if everyone was looking at her. They stopped their knitting and their chatting and just stared at Daisy. She really must be daft to even suggest a thing like that in public.

"What about me?" Mrs. Hughes swayed into the room and everyone seemed to jolt up from their seat. Even Thomas and O'Brien seemed to care whether she heard the previous statement or not. They had all known that something was happening between the butler and the housekeeper but no one had dared to speak of it. It was wrong. They have had their off days of course, being cooped up in the same house for over twenty years, it was bound to happen. Ever since that woman, Ms. O'Donnell, stepped into the house it was nothing more than a war between the two of them. It always used to be polite conversations with them, joined by the hip if you will. Now, it seemed as if they couldn't get one nice word passed their lips when they were in the same room together.

"What was that? I heard my name. Not gossiping about me now are we?" Mrs. Hughes mouth was in a tight line as she glared at every face in the room. To tell her the honest truth, Elsie had heard every bit of this nasty gossip and she was about sick of it. She was tired of having her staff talk about her and that blasted man behind her back. Especially when the piece of gossip had a hint a romance between the two of them. Did these men and women have no shame?

"No Mrs. Hughes. We would never." O'Brien decided to speak up. She could lie on her deathbed if she had to.

"Make sure I don't hear it again. Do I make myself clear?" She was practically barking out the order and her staff almost trembling at the sight of her.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes." They all said in correspondence. Fiddling with their objects they sat down in the now chilly room. Daisy looked as if she were about to faint as Mrs. Hughes passed her through the doorway.

"You're a daft woman, Daisy." O'Brien spitted out as she too passed the girl, obligating to return to her quarters.

* * *

Charles sighed as he scribbled the wrong number on to the wine ledger. He hadn't been thinking properly for the past few days, everything to seem out of sorts; with Mrs. Hughes and him always quarrelling and of course Grace.

Grace had been an unexpected chapter in his life, not an unwelcome one … just unexpected. If he thought back to the time when he didn't know her he would be lost. She was every bit of woman that he desired, sophisticated and very sweet with every intention of staying in service. She was about 10 years younger than him but he could overlook the age, if he squinted. Grace wasn't like the women he had met while on stage and she wasn't like the women he met while serving at Downton. She was different. He was too old to be muddling with such feelings but he had always found something to say to her, and she didn't seem to mind.

Now, about Mrs. Hughes; he couldn't take it any longer. One of them had to patch up this rift between them soon or he would surely go mad. He missed her. It's been 4 days since the incident in his pantry and he still feels himself blushing about it. He can't get her out of his head. Charles had never thought about a full on physical relationship with Elsie in years. All those unbridled feelings for Elsie Hughes were stashed way down deep inside of him, never to be uncovered again as long as he lived. What was he going to do? Here he was advancing towards Grace and all he could think of was Elsie…

_You need to sort out your priorities. _

A clap of thunder made him jump and he scowled. What a horrible day. Rainy and dreary, all he wished for was a nice cup of tea and a conversation. Not just a conversation but one that wasn't about work or the ongoing problems of his life; but one about how he had wished he'd gone another way, had a family, or worked at a factory.

_Just like Elsie said._

_**Yes. Just like Els said.**_

He set his pen down; it wasn't like he was going to finish the damn ledgers anyway. Running is large hands through his hair he sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. And for the first time as butler, Charles Carson slumped; too weary to care about being proper. If anyone was to have found him this way, they would surely think he was dead. He was in no mood to be proper and he was in no mood to do ledgers.

* * *

Elsie was tired, tired beyond belief; the rain didn't help either. The pitter patter of the rain was almost lulling her to sleep on her settee. She had decided that reading a book might keep her mind off of him. Keep her mind off of everything, really. Her thoughts seemed to venture towards her past.

She remember a long time ago when she was just a girl in Argyll her mum used to tell her stories, about how every time it rained the angels were crying for the one they loved. And she'd remember vividly how she'd stare out the window, tracing the pattern of the tears; slowly but steadily dragging her fingers down with them.

_And you'd wonder what the angels' love had done so wrong for them to cry such beautiful tears._

_**Yes. **_

In a way she loved rain, she loved the smell and the sounds and everything that followed it. The rebirth of the flowers and trees; or when the birds would venture out singing a song of survival. Her stomach turned. If the tears were rain would there be some rebirth afterwards? Would everything grow back the way it was? Would the sun shine again? Maybe that was the way of life, after every downfall there was an uprising.

She sighed. This whole scenario with Mr. Carson and that woman must end soon, right? So why not stop the rain, and push the sunlight?

_Well, go on then. Both of you could use a little sunshine._

Elsie stood up and pushed back the flyaway hairs from her face and headed straight for the door of her pantry.

_Els. Your shoes._

"Right." She chuckled to herself. Always the shoes, she was always forgetting the shoes.

* * *

Charles was so close to dozing off.

_**I'm just resting my eyes, I promise.**_

A light tap on his door made him growl. Whoever it was would surely have their head chewed off if they didn't leave him be.

"What!" He barked at the intruder. He dare not open his eyes for he knew that he wouldn't be able to control himself from this rage.

"Mr. Carson." There is was. The moment where all he thoughts stopped and he stood to see her. She had a slight apologetic smile upon her face, balancing a tray of tea on her hip. She was certainly a sight for sore eyes. "May I come in?" Her head motioned for permission.

"Uhm… Yes, yes by all means." His hand rubbed the back of his neck. "I do apologize, I'm a bit disheveled." He certainly was; he had foregone his jacket and his tie was loosely hung around his neck. "I wasn't expecting a visitor." Nervously chuckling, he tried to separate the papers on his desk into neat piles.

"I wasn't expecting to be your visitor, if I'm going to be honest." She tapped his hands to stop his restless movements and set the tray on the disorganized papers. "I've come with a peace offering." She smiled and handed him a cup of steaming tea. Their hands grazed one another during the exchange, making Charles blush.

"I appreciate it. Thank you, Mrs. Hughes." He sat in one of his grand chairs by the small fire, motioning for her to take the other one. "It's been a rather long day, hasn't it?" Carson was trying his best not to wander off into forbidden territory considering how much they've been fighting.

"I would say so… Dreadful day too." Her lips blew at the tea and he shuddered. Those lips seemed to surround the cup as if they were made together. If only he had the chance to taste them, he bet they would taste as good as they looked.

"Yes… Dreadful."

"I would like to apologize, Mr. Carson." Elsie sat straight and turn towards him fully. "I've been a terrible nuisance these past few days and… I know that we've had better days." She bowed her head like a scolded dog, not wanting to see look on Charles face. It was too embarrassing. Her free hand rubbed the rim of the cup emitting a high pitched sound. Anything would do to get her mind off of the current situation.

"It seems we have been fighting like a couple of cats and dogs, haven't we?" He gave a half-hearted chuckle and continued to stare into the dimming fire.

"Yes… We have." She bit down the bottom of her lip, another one of those terrible habits she despised about herself.

Thunder boomed overhead making her jump.

_*crash*_

"Oh. Not again!" She knelt down to try and pick up the broken pieces of the delicate china. She was so clumsy these days. She placed the largest break in her palm, gently picking up the rest.

"Don't worry Mrs. Hughes." He knelt down beside her, taking her wrists in his palms. "You've cut yourself." His thumb ran over the gash and she hissed. Elsie's hand flexed at the touch of his hand around hers, she couldn't remember the last time they were this close to one another. His head was bowed and she could see the curls on top of his head, shining in the light of the fire. She gasped as he blew on the cut.

"That stings." She managed to choke out. His eyes locked with hers. She had never looked more beautiful to him, the light casting an ominous glow on her face. The way her eyes had shone when he touched her. Gods, this woman would surely be the death of him.

"I…" He suppressed his urge kiss her. "There was a piece right… here." Charles ran his thumb over the cut, slower this time so he wouldn't harm her. A lover's touch, you could call it. When he looked back up at her it seemed they were closer than ever. Noses barely touching one another, he could taste her. He could _feel_ her surrounding him. Her breathe was coming in short gasps as she nodded at him. He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments and relished this moment. They nudged closer together.

"Mr. Carson…" She said in that slow Scottish accent of hers. Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. If he leaned in closer he could have captured that tongue with his and would hold her close to him; kissing her with all the passion in the world. That passion that he swore would keep hidden as long as he lived was bubbling at the surface. He moved closer towards her, this time his nose touching hers in the gentlest way. "Please…" She muttered as she closed her eyes willingly waiting for what was coming.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but then shut it quickly when he heard the shrill ring of the telephone. Sighing he rested his head against hers, the moment had passed. He cupped her cheek and whispered his apology.

Charles rose from his place on the floor beside her and picked up the phone with a dull, "Downton Abbey, Carson the butler speaking." He watched as she continued to pick up the pieces of the stupid cup. The familiar voice of Grace made him composed himself fully; back to being a butler.

"Yes, Miss O'Donnell?" Her head rose very slowly as she saw him talking to this woman on the phone. If only he had let the damn thing ring. "Yes… I suppose I could make it… Yes. Alright… I'll see you soon." He practically slammed the phone back on the hook.

"It seems the rain has stopped." Charles said still staring down at the telephone.

"Yes… It seems so." She dusted the remaining pieces of the cup into the rubbish bin. "I guess that make me the rain and you the thunder." She chuckled to herself and in return he gave her a furrowed brow and a frown.

"Miss O'Donnell would like me to come over and survey her work at the house… Seems she doesn't think she's been doing a good job lately." Elsie couldn't give a damn what that woman thought. "Your hand…" He gestured towards the cut, still bleeding.

"Oh… yes." She seemed to be examining it, flipping it over and applying slight pressure to the wound.

"Let me help you." Charles took her wrist and dug through the multiple draws in his desk till he found the emergency kit. "I keep one handy in case something like this happens." He waved his hand at the gash and softly laughed. She smiled at his nervousness.

"Sit, please." It was more of a demand than an offer but, she complied anyways. Kneeling down in front of her he took out an antiseptic rub and gauze. "You really should be more careful, you know." He placed her hand on her knee and motioned her to be still. "This will hurt." He rubbed the cream into the wound and wrapped it tightly.

"Thank you." She flexed her hand to make sure there was enough room for the wound to breathe. "You've been a wonderful doctor, Mr. Carson."

"I guess I should have gone into the field." He genuinely smiled at her polite flirtation. Although he was still kneeling he was face to face with this woman. Carson sighed and opened his mouth to apologize but she stopped him short. Telling him that nothing happened and that she would be sure to carry on in a proper manner and with that he stood. He hunted down his jacket and pulled his arms through it.

"Charles." She said motioning for him to move forward. It was the first real time she'd used his Christian name. He didn't pay much attention for he would be afraid she'd revert back to their dull usage of Mr. and Mrs.

Her slim hand was placed on his chest as she fixed his tie. Elsie's face was full of sorrow; for what, he couldn't tell. He knew she regretted something though, whether it was the almost kiss or the blasted telephone. Her fingers slipped in and out of the material creating a perfect knot, tightening just enough to be comfortable and proper. Smoothing out the imaginary creases of his jacket she smiled up at him. Whatever happened in this pantry today would be buried deep down with the rest of his feelings, along with her own.

"Rain and thunder." He muttered to her. "What a perfect pair we make."

"Yes." Her smile widened as a lone tear escaped her eye.


	5. Pancakes

**Warning: The chapter contains **_**explicit **_**content. If you are sensitive or dislike that stuff please PM and I will send you a revised version if you wish.**

**Disclaimer: These characters belong to Julian Fellowes and not me. **

**Author's note: I've made this chapter twice as long and twice as juicy because I didn't update yesterday. I must admit that while writing this I kind of went overboard but… I hope you like it and continue reading because it's great fun writing these two! Drop me a review if you will be ever so kind so I can tell if you liked it or not. I love you all, xoxo.**

* * *

Another week passed after Charles and Elsie almost kissed but, nothing seemed to be getting any better for them. The days passed slowly and every night before they tucked in there was no tea or wine. They mutually agreed that there would be more polite conversations in the hall, only business. Occasionally throughout the day Mrs. Hughes would catch him eyeing her. His brow would be furrowed and he would silently whisper if she was really alright. Her reply was always the same, "Of course, Mr. Carson. Why wouldn't I be?" It was the most tedious week Charles ever had and it seemed that every night before he retired he took a glass of his special brandy and a headache powder with him.

He remembered the night that Elsie went to the stupid fair with the red faced bloke.

_**What was his name?**_

_Joe._

Yes, Joe. What a fool he was to have let her go. But on that particular night everything seemed to fall to pieces without her around. Now even with her presence in the house his whole routine was out of place. He'd miss a step on the stairs and trip, or he'd go the wrong way when serving dinner; he even forgot to ring the dressing gong. Twice!

_**His lordship must think I've gone over the edge.**_

If he had learned anything from this whole fiasco with Mrs. Hughes is that he couldn't live without those little moments with her. The little things in life are the moments that kept Charles Carson sane.

The time was half pass eleven and currently Carson was scribbling numbers in the ledgers. She'd check over them when he was done and she would know that he had trouble adding the numbers in his head because of the scratchy numbers on to the left of the ledger. Her fingers would be stained with ink when she was done reviewing the book and the faded numbers on the side told him she touched them. Maybe it was because it gave her a sense of closeness towards him but, only a stupid man would think such thing.

"Mr. Carson." She tapped so lightly on his door that if he hadn't heard her voice he would have never known she was there. Charles closed the book quickly and he frantically looked up at her; but how could he gaze at her when she looked like this? That black silk robe brought back so many memories, it hung loosely upon her frame and she didn't seem to mind being so exposed. He knew what lay beneath that garment and he dare not think about it, for he would surely embarrass himself.

Her milky skin was exposed and if he pulled the fabric aside just enough, nothing would be left to his imagination. It wasn't what lay beneath that excited him but what lay above. He could see her chest rise and fall and he wanted nothing more than the pull her close and rest his head upon her. Not for sexual reasons, well not mostly. But he knew that she would be soft, and warm to touch. Her hips would match up to his perfectly. His hands would slide up to cup her breast, the one that gave her such pain before, and they would easily fit in his palms. His tongue would pinpoint ever place she craved to be touched. And Charles Carson would love Elsie Hughes like no man had ever loved her before.

_If only._

"Mr. Carson…" Mrs. Hughes said a tad bit louder, hoping she didn't scare him with her sudden appearance. She was inappropriately dressed she knew but, he would never take advantage of her. But God how she wished he would.

_**I'm dreaming.**_ This was his only thought as she leaned seductively against the door frame. His heart beat out of time and the shirt around his neck was becoming far too tight. Dry lips, straining pants, sweaty palms, what is this?

_You're nervous Charles._

_**I have nothing to be nervous of…**_

"Y-Yes Mrs. Hughes, can I help you?"

"Well, first of all there is no need to be nervous, I'm not about to jump on you." The sweet sound of laughter filled his pantry and he became a bit dizzy. Her arms were wrapped tight around herself as she ventured into the room. The light sound of her feet against the ground brought a smile to this flustered man's face.

"Do you realize that one day you'll have a blister or some kind of injury on your foot if you continue to walk barefoot?" They both glanced at her naked toes and gave a hearty chuckle. She gave them a wiggle and smiled broadly at him. Their eyes locked for the first time in a week. Her lips parted as a shaky breath filled her lungs.

"Are you hungry?" She didn't move from her place in the middle of his pantry. Her eyes glistened in the light and he swore she was an angel from the Heavens.

"Famished."

They had exited his pantry without another word.

* * *

She mixed the batter in a large bowl, expertly cracking the egg without spilling any yolk on her hands. Pancakes at midnight, what an outrageous idea she knows. When she suggested it he almost sputtered like a tea kettle. What an odd suggestion, it was so… so modern; yet he had no complaints.

"How's it coming?" She turned to see him. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows and his tie had been left behind in his pantry along with his shoes (something he learned from her). Charles was currently frying a mix of egg and sausage, very well she might add. He looked so real yet, it was so unlike him. Her heart seemed to drop to her stomach.

_**Maybe this will be how it is when we are retired… and …**_

_Married._

Elsie's cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink as she added flour to the pancake mix.

"Good… I think." His gaze didn't leave the frying pan but he knew she was smiling, he could feel it. Every time she smiled it bounced off her and traveled back to him. There they were two people facing different directions smiling about one another. What a pair.

"I'm going to have blueberries in mine." Entering the small store room to her left she turned back and asked, "What do you want? Bananas? Nuts? Chocolate perhaps?" She wiggled her eyebrows his way and he shooed away her teasing. Shrugging her shoulders she disappeared back in the room.

His brow furrowed and he thought.

"Actually," He made sure to talk loud enough for her to hear him. Only her head popped out and his mouth turned up. "I think I'll have chocolate."

"Charles Carson!" She gasped sarcastically. "You're so adventurous tonight."

**More than you know. **He thought happily to himself.

She returned with a handful of fruit and a small bag of chocolate.

"I assumed you wanted dark… You were never one for sweets." Her hips shook as she poured the contents into separate bowls.

"You know, you surprise me." He said softly, hoping she didn't hear him.

"And pray do tell, Mr. Carson, why is that?" By now they were standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder. She lit the burner and placed a pan on the stove. They were so close he could feel the heat radiating off of her body. If he looked down he could see way past her robe and venture to the valley between her breasts. He stiffened. She sighed.

"You know so much about cooking." He was lying through his teeth.

"Well I'm not about to serve the Queen herself, Charles!" She nudged him as his started to place the eggs on a platter.

_Avoid contact._

He moved.

She sighed.

"What about you? I've never seen you touch a pan and here you are frying eggs and sausage as if you were a professional!" She eyed him as he set down the food that was already cooked.

"Tea?" He asked, completely avoiding the question.

"Yes, please. And don't avoid me Mr. Carson; I would like an answer!" She flipped the first pancake over and whispered, "Hand me that plate." His thumb passed over her knuckle and it sparked a flame in her hand.

"I… I used to cook at home." He placed the kettle on the burner and stood behind her as she finished with the first batch of pancakes.

"You've never talked about your home… What was it like?"

"Boring."

"Alright… Did you cook for anyone in particular?" Elsie knew she was on thin ice but she ventured into deeper waters.

"My mother, before she passed." He settled down on one of the chairs in the kitchen holding a cup of tea in both hands. "Every Sunday before we went to Church I'd make her eggs and sausage and sometimes crepes but…" His gaze was set on the cup in his hands, watching the steam rise and disappears in front of his eyes.

"It's alright. You don't have to continue…"

"Thank you." He sipped at the tea.

"You'll tell me when you're ready." She grinned at him and he nodded at her kindness. "Help me with these please." Elsie placed the food on separate trays and carried both on different hips, walking out towards the staff room. He followed in pursuit with the tea.

They settle down at the end of the table just like every day of their life. Him at the end and her to his right. But this wasn't like in the mornings when they were surrounded by people and noise. This was intimate. Their knees brushed one another.

He retreated.

She sighed.

Charles placed two blueberry pancakes on one plate; she placed three chocolate and his own. She placed a large amount of eggs and sausage on his plate; he placed a smaller portion on hers. This is what they did. They took care of one another. She'd take his plate and butter the pancakes with just the right amount, not bothering to grab the syrup. He'd grab her plate and drench the pancakes with the sweetest syrup, not bothering to pick up a butter knife. Sliding the plates across the table they muttered their thanks and dug in.

Neither talked. Just sat and waited for one to say something.

Simultaneously they grab for the tea pot, fingertips brushing one another in yet another fumble. He motioned for her to take it, settling back into his meal.

"Why do you do that?" She questioned as she poured another cup of tea for herself. Setting the pot back down where it came from.

"What?" He picked up the pot.

"That! You care if I have my tea first!"

"I…"

"All these years Charles, you've been caring for people. Are you not sick of it?" Elsie sat back in her chair and curled her feet under her bottom.

He looked at her shocked. He was a respectable butler at Downton Abbey; of course he wasn't tired of doing his job. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, not fathoming the answer to her question. Was she mad for asking such a thing? Why would he be tired of it anyways? He had a family that cared for him. Even though they weren't his real family he had every right to care more for them then he did for himself. They had done so much for him and he knew that the only way to repay them was to serve them.

"You fall ill and the next day you want to be up and ready at their beck and call. You make one mistake and are ready to hand in your resignation. If you were to be on your death bed you'd still pick yourself up to serve the daily tea!" She flung her hands up in the air exasperated at his silence. "Why?"

"I… I care very deeply about their feelings towards me, I suppose. I don't want to disappoint them." His eyebrows furrowed into a distraught line. He started to fiddle with his food nervous at what she was going to say next. If he thought long and hard about it he would realize that everything she was saying towards him was nothing less than the truth.

"What about _your_ feelings Mr. Carson?"

"What about them?"

"You must have some!" She scoffed at his response.

"I try my best to hide them. They only muddle my brain." He looked up to catch her gaze. Settling her fork down in defeat she looked into his eyes trying to undercover the truth behind all this.

"What about you're feeling towards me? Do you bury those too? The man I've known all these years really not who you are?" She gaze fell to her hands in her laps; fiddling with her fingers to hide her blushing cheeks. This was the first time they had discussed how they felt about one another. Well, at least this was the first time she talked about her feeling towards him. He looked at the clock overhead on the opposite side of the room, searching for the right words. Time passed and he still couldn't think. If he blurted out he would startled her and certainly say the wrong thing. He had to be proper. He had to keep his head straight and think like a butler.

"Mrs. Hughes." He said and her eyes lifted towards his own. "My feelings for you will never change." And with that he continued to shove the food into his mouth, placing a fourth pancake on his plate. He had to be casual. He had to be aware of the things he did and said, or he'd surely make a complete fool of himself. She thinks about his words. They were destined to be this way.

Housekeeper and Butler;

the perfect pair.

Picking up the fork again she began to solemnly eat her food.

_**Never mind all this sorry silence**_, she thought. Pretending she didn't hear what he had just revealed to her she smiled at him.

"May I?" She gestured to the pancake with her fork. Silently he nodded at her permission. His hovering hand moved away so she could access the plate in front of him more easily. What she did next was completely unexpected.

She settled down her own utensil and grabbed for his fork. When she leant over the cut into the pancake his gaze traveled to her chest. How inappropriate.

_Fuck propriety. _

He lingered at the crease that formed when her breasts pushed together. Pushing up against one another making it hard for him to lower his gaze. She must have known what he was doing because she leaned forward just a tad bit further. The black lace that covered her breasts illuminated her skin.

Ebony and Ivory.

If he looked long enough he would see little freckles surrounding her.

Stars in the night sky.

He shifted in his seat when he heard a soft moan. Gods.

"Maybe I should become a cook." She giggled and handed him his fork back. She knew exactly what she was doing to him and was enjoying every last bit of it. He'd be like the melted chocolate in the pancake by the time she was done with him tonight. Gooey and soft and needing to cool. He gave her a harsh grunt and shifted once again.

The result of her meddling cost them another minute of silence.

"Why did you never marry that Joe fellow?"

Coughing on her tea her expression said it all. What on Earth kind of question was that?!

"I beg your pardon?" She had finally composed herself and her whole body was a deep shade of red.

"Well, I was only thinking… You could have had children, and family of your own. Why would you ever pass up the chance? Twice at that." He _was_ foolish.

"Uhm… I…" Elsie waved her hand in the air trying to come up with the right thing to say. She couldn't think of anything. Just the thought that Charles Carson was asking about an old lover was nerve racking at that. She fanned her face with her hand. This was certainly not expected.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh no, Charles don't be. I… I guess that." She stuttered, "I guess the first time I left was because… I mean… I found a place where I felt welcome." She tried to make eye contact with the man. If he wanted to hear her answer he better look at her for Heaven's sake.

"Charles, look at me."

He did.

"I had friends here and couldn't just leave them when he came running back to me. I stayed the first time because, I was _young_ I didn't know _what_ I wanted! Can you understand?" Her eyes were begging him to comprehend her statement.

"I understand… But the second time he came around, did you know what you wanted then?" Searching the sapphire eyes of hers, he went deeper. He let propriety stand aside. This wasn't Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson speaking. This was Elsie and Charles and by God he wanted to know why! Why she gave up on Joe and stayed with him.

"Of course I knew what I wanted." She twirled her fork in her hand, impatiently figuring out the outcome of this conversation. "I admit it took some time to realize it but, I found it soon enough."

"What did you find, Elsie?" She heart skipped a beat.

_**Elsie.**_

_**Elsie.**_

"Elsie?" She blurted out, tears forming in her eyes. He'd never spoken her Christian name before. It was always Mrs. Hughes to him. Always a butler and never a friend. She chewed so fiercely on her lip that blood was drawn. He looked at her lips, seeing the red substance form on those precious lips of hers. Her tongue darted out to rid of the liquid and his gaze returned to her eyes.

"Yes. Elsie." The way it seemed to roll off his tongue, the way his voice deepened just slightly on her name. "What did you find, Elsie?" The guttural rasp of his voice heightened her senses. Her bones turned to jelly; her whole body flamed into a burning fire. Goosebumps appeared upon her arms and her nipples hardened at the shiver. Gods the affect one word could give her. Her name upon his lips. Thunder booming.

"I found…" She shook her head placing a hand over her heart rubbing the area to calm herself. He saw what his words did to her. He saw her body jolt and her nipples harden through her robe. If he wasn't so keen on hearing her answer he would have surely jumped across the table and suckle her ravishing body.

"I found that the kind of family he wanted wasn't the kind I wanted. In fact… I already had a family. Here. With you. And Anna and Mr. Bates. Ms. O'Brien and Thomas, Daisy and Mrs. Patmore. Everyone. We've been through so much Charles… We lost William, Lady Sybil, and now Mr. Crawley. How could I leave? How could I abandon you? You're my best friend. I would never leave you behind to run away with a man I hadn't spoken to in over twenty years. I care too much. Downton is my home." A tear escaped her eyes and she wiped it away quickly before he could see it. "You are my home, Charles."

"Home is where you make it, Mrs. Hughes. We live in a house with no walls and everywhere we go whoever we are with, _that_ is home." She didn't know whether to feel compassion for this man or slap him in the face.

"You speak words of wisdom, Mr. Carson."

"I try." He smiled at her, and she knew he was trying to patch the gap he just created between the two of them. After all, it was the polite thing to do. The proper thing to do.

He picked up the last pancake from the plate and cut it into equal pieces. The chocolate was only partially cooled so it tried its best to stay whole. He looked ridiculous trying to place the piece into his mouth without the chocolate completely falling out. His attempts earned him a girlish giggle from Elsie and he scoffed. Chewing the piece of pancake in his mouth he mumbled, "What?" He smiled at her. She was beautiful.

"Come here." She giggled again and motioned for him to come closer.

Cupping his cheek lovingly she tilted her head sideways. With her other hand she began to wipe away the excess chocolate that he had dribbled on his face. Feeling the light stubble on his cheeks she held his face a little longer than necessary. When her eyes left his mouth she looked up at his eyes. He heard an intake of breath, short and almost silent. His eyes were open and clear. Clear of those walls he built up so precisely. They crumbled down in front of her and she felt a sob creeping upon her. Those feelings he kept so buried deep seemed to rise from the ground and fill his brown eyes with relief. As much as she feared he would build a higher wall or dig a deeper hole she continued to hold him. But she knew it was wrong.

Her hands left his face.

The chocolate that was just on his face was still on her thumb and when he spotted it he had an idea. A stupid, crazy, impossibly brilliant idea.

He grasped her wrist and brought it towards his lips. Placing a light kiss on her pulse point; he continued his voyage to the inside of her palm where he saw the fading scar of when she cut herself on that silly cup. Opening his lips ever so slightly so she could feel the wet heat of his mouth he placed another kiss on the scar. He ran his finger along the deep lines on her palm and traced each one of her fingers. So light was his touch she could barely feel it. Her breath hitched when he reached her thumb, he dragged her hand closer to his face. He placed her thumb against his mouth. His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips and graze over her thumb in the process. This must be a dream. Charles enveloped her thumb into his hot cavern and continued to suck the chocolate off her finger. Dragging his tongue over the ridges and swirling around the very tip of her finger he thoroughly made sure she was clean of the sweet substance. She moaned when he released her. If she wasn't completely aroused now she would be soon enough.

They just stared at one another until he did something so out of this world she wasn't even sure this was Charles Carson. He placed his hands on her hips and picked her up until she was straddling his body.

"Charles?" She said in a breathy gasp. But there was no time for questions.

He placed one of his hands on the back of her neck and pressed a heated kiss against her lips. He was going mad she was sure of it but God madness felt so good. He parted her lips fiercely with his expert tongue and repeated the actions that he did her thumb with her own tongue. She tasted like rain. She was the rain. She cupped his face and deepened the kiss as much as possible, lifting her hips slightly to reposition herself.

He groaned.

"You're going to be the death of me woman." He chuckled and he dragged his hand down her back and rested them on her hips. Those hips that he was ever so fond of. Her response was a breathy laugh as she grounded her hips against his. Rolling them just the right way. His head fell against the head of the chair as he tried to control himself. Her lips were pressed against his neck as she started to unbutton his shirt hastily. Nibbling behind his ear and whispering sweet secrets into his ear, so sweet like the taste of chocolate. When his shirt was finally unbuttoned she took him in fully. Running her hands through his chest hair, different shades of black and grey mingled together to form a solid color. Her thumbs ran over his nipples. He jolted up at the feeling of her hands. She placed a kiss on each one of the dark circles and then one over his heart.

He growled and undid the tie of her silk robe.

It floated toward the ground like an autumn leaf.

When he was greeted with the large expanse of skin he was overwhelmed. Her breasts ached for his touch, nipples straining against that perfect blue silk. He could tell she was scared that her body was displeasing but, he whispered how beautiful she was as he placed a warm kiss over her heart, mimicking her previous action.

"Gods… My Elsie… My beautiful, beautiful Elsie." He took her silk covered nipple in his mouth. Nipping and kissing each one equally making sure they were both loved. When she moan his name and slipped her hand in his hair he barely lost it. He lifted her once again and pushed away plates and cups to rest her on the table. Charles' knee pushed apart her legs so he could fit comfortably between them. He could feel her heat seeping through his trousers as he strained against the fabric. She could feel him being pressed against the inside of her thigh, making her want him even more. For a second more she ran her hands through his hair lovingly. Over and over feeling the oil he used previously that morning to slick back his hair fade away. She toyed with the curls and the base of his neck and just stared at him in a daze. Over twenty years it took them to get this far and she wanted to remember the way he looked at her. The way he lovingly caressed her thigh lifting it around his hips, tracing meaningless circles in his path. He sighed and kissed her slowly. The straps of her nightgown were falling and he tugged them down all the way, helping her lift her arms out of it.

He tugged down the dress towards her hips exposing her breasts. They were full and fit perfectly in his palm, just like he imagined they would. Kneading the flesh in his hands he made her moan. It was the most feminine sound he ever heard. His fingers passed over each nipple, pinching them with his thumb and forefinger. Rolling them into sharp tips, he bent down to take one inside his mouth. She seemed to press impossibly closer towards him, arching her back to give his better access. The only sound he could hear was his own pulse in his ears and her gasps echoing in his head.

But everything changed.

The chime of the third hour rung and he stopped. He gazed at the clock behind her and sighed. This was wrong. This was beyond wrong. She sensed his hesitance and covered her exposed breasts with her arms. Those walls were up again, those feelings buried deep. He bent down to retrieve her robe while she replaced her straps. Elsie felt the sob bubble in her throat and the tears sting her eyes but… She wouldn't cry in front of him. Not like this. Shakily he started to re-button his shirt and she slipped the robe back on tightening it as much as possible. Everything happened so fast she didn't think she could remember it. But she knew it was something wonderful. When he had finished tucking in his shirt he offered his hand to help her down from the table. She declined politely and started to collect the dirty dishes. He helped her. And when they entered the kitchen they were a pair once again. Washing and drying the dishes together.

It felt so wrong but so right. They tried their best to avoid contact becoming the distant people they were earlier this week. The dishes were dried and Elsie was hanging onto the sink with all her might. Her knuckles were turning a sickly white because of how tight she clung to it. She felt as if she was going to be sick. She'd welcome it. Emptying herself of the memories of tonight so they would never resurface in her dreams. It would be good for her.

When he picked up the first plate to replace it in the cupboard she stopped him.

"I'll finish here."

Charles set the plate down and continued out of the kitchen bare feet and all.

"If I could love you…" He whispered to the darkness, steadying himself against the door, "I would. You know that, don't you?" She covered her eyes and a let the tears seep through the gaps letting her sobs erupt her body. Grimacing at the pain this man has caused her and smiling at the pleasure he had also made her feel. She took in a shaky breath the sink supporting her body.

"Good night, Mr. Carson." She closed her eyes and stiffened.

"Good night… Elsie."

Elsie cried through the night.

Charles roared in his sleep.

And when angel's cried….

Thunder boomed.


	6. Regret

**A/N: An update is LONG overdue but life has caught up to me, with school coming up and work I just haven't had the time! But I've got some great ideas for the future! So hopefully I won't have writers block for a while. Also just to let you know we will be on the angst road for a while so don't be expecting a walk through the park! Haha. Anyways… I'm going to be introducing Grace a lot more from now on. I feel like we haven't gotten to know her yet so maybe now is the time! Okay, have fun reading and please feel free to drop a review because you guys know it's my favorite 3. Love you all! xoxo **

Briskly striding down the empty corridor Elsie ran her fingers gingerly along the wall as she walked. The feeling of the bricks beneath her nails was soothing. It was still far too early in the morning to be walking around but, she thought she might have a stroll before another day took toll on her. Two days. That's how long it's been since _the night_. Every morning she would sit down at breakfast, not daring to look at him for fear it may break the spell they were under. It was comfortable. She wouldn't discuss the dinner, or the staff, or even the family. It was no longer important.

Every room in this house had secrets and every occupant had sorrows. These days each day seemed to be filled with a new tragedy. Her body sagged a bit when she reached the end of the hall. Where now? All her life it she would take a turn and it would lead her to a new life. What happened when she met an end? There was always another way, right? Doors. She could open and close doors. Tenderly touching the knob she knew what lay behind it; the wee bairn of Mary Crawley and the late Matthew Crawley. She pushed open the door and scanned the room. Empty besides the crib and a few items but otherwise, empty. Her first steps were loud, clanking on the hard wood. Leaning against the wall she raised her leg and slipped off each of her shoes. Not even an hour into the day and she was indulging herself in a guilty pleasure. As she approached the crib she thought of how much a babe look like his father. The eyes mostly, he'd be a handsome young man when he started to grow.

The soft squeak of the child awakening made her break from her daze. And she watched… She watched as his small hands brushed the air for contact. It was precious, really. He kicked the blanket off his body and cooed when he saw her.

"Hello… my wee bairn." She touched his hands and his mouth seemed to turn up. Slowly she slipped her arms around him and cradled him in her arms. Still so small, and so unaware of the sorrow he has caused the house. His mother cried every time she laid her eyes upon him. His grandmother couldn't even look at him; he was too much like Matthew. Isobel tried to keep strong, Elsie could tell, but it was just too overwhelming for her. Over time she knew things would change but now, right now, this babe was painful.

Sitting down on a plush chair she began whispering soft secrets.

"I wish I had a bairn just like you, blue eyed and brown hair." She stroked the small patch of hair on the top of his head. "He'd be beautiful and be a mama's boy, I know." Chuckling she rocked the babe, tucking her feet under her. Elsie couldn't remember the last time she felt this young but she knew it was forever ago. The child brought only happiness towards her, even though she thought of the past and how she would never bare a child herself, still… Cradling the child's head she sang a hymn her mother would sing to her every night before bed.

Lulling the babe to sleep with her sweet voice she didn't see him walk in. She never seemed to.

When the last words dripped from her mouth she sighed, and stood with the sleeping child in her arms. That's when his presence was known. He stood there wide eyed and his large eyebrows furrowed. It didn't matter, what matter was getting this bairn back to bed. She walked passed him, his gaze never leaving her. Her soft feet padded across the floor as she placed the babe in his crib, making sure not to disturb his peace. When his head hit the plush pillow she knew he would not awake.

"You are very good wi-" He began.

"Shhh…" Her head whipped around and sternly looked at him shaking her head. Motioning him over to the crib to see what lay before her. The child had shifted at the sound of Charles' booming voice. Even when the man whispered it sounded like thunder. He stepped slowly closer, close enough arm was touching her shoulder. When he looked over he saw was the most beautiful child he'd ever seen was. The babe was curled into a ball clutching the oversized pillow, slowly breathing in and out of its mouth. Charles couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.

He knew she was looking at him but he couldn't bring himself to look back. What he did do was tug the blanket back up to the child and whispered pleasant dreams. Running his fingers across the wooden cradle he looked down and their feet.

Barefoot, again.

She crossed the room and retrieved her shoes, again motioning him to leave with her. For the first time in two days she smiled at him, and it felt wonderful. They exited the room with a click of the handle and walked back down the hall. They didn't speak. Just walked leisurely against the soft rug, never looking up from the ground. He saw her toes dig into the plush carpet and grinned ecstatically. He couldn't tell if he loved that about her, or if he despised her lack of propriety. Shaking his head he chuckled.

He was rewarded with a light slap to his stomach. His gaze finally traveled back towards her. Her whole face was flushed with embarrassment a gorgeous hue upon her cheeks. When she stopped it scared him, they wouldn't revert back to the way it was would they? She touched his arm and it burned. Her body leaned against him as she tried to place the wretched shoes on her feet again. He chuckled once more and leaned in close, close enough he could feel her breath. But his intention was pure; he grasped her hand and the shoe that was in her grasp. Taking both of them he continued to walk down the corridor with her pair of shoes. After a few seconds he knew she hadn't budged. Charles turned to see Elsie standing there, wide eyed and mouth open.

"Are you coming?" He whispered so softly he wasn't sure she had heard him. Hiking up her skirt a few inches she walked briskly to where he stood. There they were, side by side again.

Isn't that how it always seemed to end up?

Another day.

Another way.

~o~

The hustle and bustle of breakfast was practically a relief for the downstairs staff. They didn't know what had come over the two heads of the house these pass two days but, they knew it was worse than ever. So when they awoke to find both of them being friendly to one another, they had never felt more relieved. It was going to be a normal day and they had never been more pleased. They were just waiting for something bad to happen (as it always did on good days) but they never imagined it to be like this…

With Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson on good terms they decided to work twice as hard to please them. As the kitchen maids cooked and the footmen served, Charles was in his pantry looking over this week's stocks. The unruly hair in front of his face would not stay back so he just let it be. He would fix it when he had the time but, ever since the rift between Elsie and him he had this surge of confidence. He had energy to start and finish the day and he was ready for any obstacles. While he was recounting the number of wines that he needed to reorder he saw her walk in. He nodded her way and she scoffed.

She shut the door behind her and he knew that it was important.

"What have I done now Mrs. Hughes?" He looked up with a broad smile but was only offered a weak frown from her.

Gods.

"I…" She started as she sat down on his settee. That same place where he saw her… On that night. He looked away and continued to scribbled nonsense onto the paper.

"Are you ever going to look at me for more than 5 seconds?" She muttered to the ground, biting her lip.

"Mrs. Hughes…" Charles sighed and placed his pen furiously on the table with a loud clack.

"It was Elsie two days ago…" She was bold, very bold. His gaze immediately went to her. When he saw her he didn't know why he even bothered, it only made him weaker. Her head was bowed, her lip bleeding from the strain she put it under, and her fingers were intertwined with one another making a jumbled mess. It hurt.

"Yes… Elsie." His eyelids shut as he blocked out the feeling of her name on her tongue.

"We need to talk about this…" Elsie felt like she was talking to a brick wall at times like this. He was so solid and impenetrable. His eyes were squeezed shut cradling his head in his palms.

"There is nothing to be said."

"You…" Her words stopped short when a shaky breath escaped her mouth. "You don't mean that Charles…" Elsie shook her head at his words. They were terrible, terrible lies.

"Perhaps not, but I would like to mean it." His gaze traveled to the clock ahead and he dare not turn in her direction.

"So you regret it?"

He paused and mulled over what she was really asking him. Did he regret doing it? No. Did her regret doing it at this point in his life? By God, yes.

"In some ways I do." His head shook in defeat. Fiddling with his pen that's when he heard the sharp intake of breath. It hurt her, there was no denying it.

"You told me I was beautiful…" She started off lightly. Her head was spinning and she was starting to feel ill. This man meant everything to her and if he was going to let this night forever be buried she wanted to know why.

He instantly looked at the woman to his left, drinking in her sorrowful appearance. "Every word I said to you was true, Elsie. Everything." He stretched the word. Long and slow so she would understand. When she nodded he knew that she believed him. Because the words he spoke that night he would carry to the grave with him. He would die for the words he whispered to her that night.

"And the things you did?" She looked straight through his eyes, seeming to reach father than any human being had with the great Charles Carson.

"I…" His hand made an uncharacteristic movement. "I never wanted it to be like this."

"I don't follow."

"I… I just. Maybe it wasn't the right time. I don't think we should be doing _**that**_," he waved at the door, "at our age! I'm 64, Elsie. I'm too old for torrid love affairs on the staff table!" Charles' voice was rising. "And to be quite forward a woman of your age shouldn't be wearing such outlandish nightclothes!" He scoffed.

"Bite your tongue, Charles. Because if I can remember, and I do quite clearly, you had no objections the other night to my 'outlandish' attire." She rose from her seat on the settee and stood in front of his desk. "For someone to sit there and blame the woman he almost made love to _**on the staff table**_ he should know where to end the argument." Her words bit into his skin and he stood doubling with anger.

"It wasn't 'making love', _Elsie." _He slithered out her name letting the _s _stay on his tongue longer than normal.

"Fine! You were going to _**fuck**_ me. You were going to ferociously _**fuck**_ me on the table. Is that better? The butler and housekeeper, oh what a pair. _**Fucking **_like a couple of barn animals."

"Stop it!" He was snarling and their faces were mere inches apart. He could feel the heat radiating off her face, she was furious.

"What?! Does the butler of Downton Abbey not like such foul language? _**Fuck**_, Mr. Carson. _**Fuck you.**_" She spat the words like fire, it singed his skin.

"If I was going to _**fuck **_anybody it surely wouldn't be you!" He screamed in her face and sat back in his chair, picking up his pen.

"You bastard…" She backed away from his desk slowly, never breaking her gaze at him. "So that's it then? You tell me I'm beautiful, you touch me, you let me touch _you._" To prove herself she continued to point between the two of them. "You can't tell me that you didn't feel anything, Charles. This changes _**everything**_." Her gaze softened. Her shoulders slumped and she backed towards the door. One last look was all she needed to know that he still felt something, anything towards her.

"It changes nothing, Mrs. Hughes." Charles didn't look up from his desk, idly tapping with his pen. He started to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from anymore harsh words.

"Fine." She left the room without another word.

~o~

Her stomps could be heard around the house. She breathed in and out in heavy gasps, like a Dragon. Anyone who was in her way would surely get burned. Surely they would understand that she was going through some tough times. If they could just give her a week or two or maybe even more, she was sure she could get her and Charles relationship back to where it was.

Back to good old, Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes.

~o~

He regretted it.

Everything.

He regretted the pancakes.

He regretted the fight.

He even regretted ever meeting that devil woman.

Charles leaned back in his chair rubbing his hand over his face. God let this day be over already. Let him relax with a glass of brandy and a long bath. Today was the day he wished he was alone in a cottage, retired somewhere by himself. He should retire. He's been thinking about it for years but… He just couldn't seem to find the time. With the death of Lady Sybil, and then Mr. Crawley; Mary needed him.

_Your blessed, Mary. _She would spit at him.

The woman had no respect. Whatever he saw in her was beyond him. She was self-centered and… and what? Could he really not think of anything more to say about Elsie Hughes?

"She's a bloody Scottish Dragon, that's what she is." He muttered as he continued his work. If he was honest with himself he was no better the names he accused her to be.

There was a light tap on his door and he roared "Leave me be!"

When the door opened he was about to bite the head off whoever dare enter his pantry without permission but there she was.

"Grace…" He pushed things on his desk into a neat pile and tried to push back his curls.

"I see you've been tossed around a bit this afternoon." She smiled so wide he forgot what he was ranting about for a minute. He shook his head and tried to speak but words would not come. "No matter… I was wondering if you have time for a stroll? It's my half-day and I thought I would spend it with you." She held up a basket. "I made lunch." Her eyebrows wiggled and he chuckled. By God, was she his savior.

"I would love to… Let me just grab my coat." Charles passed by Grace and she smiled even wider than before, her blonde locks were piled high and her eyes shone with happiness.

"I must say you seem rather glad to be getting out!" Her laugh was melodious to his ears and his nodded vigorously.

"You have no idea…"

If there was one thing Charles Carson would never regret, it was meeting this woman.

He would never regret Grace.


	7. The Game

**A/N: Long time no see, huh? I know it's been far too long and I'm so sorry! School started on Monday and I hate it (as usual). My schedule was messed up and I've been so stressed. I literally got 17 hours of sleep last night and it was amazing. So, I decided to take my shift at work today off and relax with some good ole' fanfiction. I've set a schedule to write a chapter at least once a week, maybe more if I have time. Anyways! In this chapter there will be no Charles/Elsie interactions. Ha, I know. But they need some time apart so I've dropped in a few guests! (yayyy shouts the crowd I feel like I've been doing a terrible job at keeping this story on tract, they all seem like one shots to me… Which is not how I wanted things to flow with this story. Enjoy anyways and expect more soon! Love you all, xoxo.**

"Did you have a life? Before Downton I mean?" She asked quietly under the shaded tree. The light was casting just right on her hair. The sun shining through her blonde curls illuminated her face, almost angelic. Her hands poured him another glass of lemonade when she repeated the question. "So, did you?" Giggling she laid back on tree.

"Yes, of course!" Charles was never one for sarcasm but he couldn't help but make a few remarks in her presence. "I wasn't born with a waistcoat on, Grace." Early that evening they agreed that when alone they would refer to one another by their given names. She said that it was too formal for a picnic to use titles, something he genuinely agreed upon.

"Well, you could have fooled me!" She giggled at his joke but saw the look of disappointment on his face. "I was only joking, Charles." Patting his shoulder she sat up straighter with her head tilted sideways. "Would you tell me?"

"About my life?" He shook his head. Never, in his 64 years had he revealed his past. It was a cruel and ridden with shadows. They crawled into his sleep and turned his dreams into nightmares with a flash of light. Shadows of Grigg and the men and women he met in the bar halls. He wasn't Charlie anymore, he was Charles Edward Carson. That would be the only man Grace ever met.

"Alright." She leaned closer to him and tilted his head towards hers. "How about we play a game?" A smile illuminated her face and she nodded her head for his answer.

"A game?" His brows furrowed.

"I tell you a secret, you tell me one in return." Rubbing his cheek in way that was far too forward for just friends, she continued. "Shall I start?" Her voice was far too excited. Charles knew she wanted to ease the hurt that was buried deep inside of him but, the game would only lead to a damaged heart for the both of them.

"I was born in America." She smiled at this.

"America?" He was astonished! "But… You are so…"

"Poised?"

"Well… yes." Blushing he looked at her with a grin that matched hers.

"Not all Americans are slobs, Charles." Grace flattened her dress.

"I never implied-"

"Your turn!"

He shook his head. How did he come to be sitting here in the first place? One minute he's on the verge of tearing a woman's head off, the next he's sitting under a tree playing games with this woman. Maybe there was some kind of medical condition to explain his actions. He looked at her and was amazed. She was nothing he had ever expected. Grace was young and lighthearted and she reminded him a spring flower. Blooming when he laughed at her jokes, or wilting when they parted their separate ways. Did she have the same feelings for him? Not that he had any feelings…

"I was in an orphanage." He stated as she nodded and her smile faded away. The game had turned sour.

"For how long?"

"I was dropped off as a babe, not even in a name in my possession. I grew up in multiple ones, actually." He lay down on the torn up sheets they used as a blanket, his elbow propped up his upper body. "I believe it was Hattigan's til I was 7, which was my first home in Sussex. They then transferred me to Blakely's in Yorkshire which was a long way from Sussex I can assure you." He actually laughed at this. "Then it was-"

"Charles." He looked up at her solemn face. "How can you speak so calmly of such horrors?" She fiddled with her fingers resting in her lap.

"They are hardly horrors; it's just the way things were." He grasped her hands on impulse. Rubbing his thumbs over her soft hands he said, "Would you like me to continue?"

"Yes." He looked into her eyes, full of concern. It was then that he decided. If she knew every secret about him then maybe they wouldn't be considered secrets anymore. Letting go of her hands he continued.

"I stayed at Blakely's for 3 years. By the time I left I was a few months from my 10th birthday. Around that time it was very uncommon for a child to be adopted, so they sent me to a home. It was called…" He scratched behind his ears and made a curious face, "Do you know, I think I've forgotten it!" He laughed and continued, "Anyways I was at that home for the rest of my childhood. I made a few friends but I haven't heard from them in years… And that's it. My life." He licked his lips and sipped his lemonade.

"That's terrible… And no one wanted to adopt you?"

"I was horribly ugly!" His deep laugh practically shook her tiny frame. She held back a giggle.

"I doubt it, Charles." She blushed deeply at this comment.

"My nose was far too big for my face and- would you like to know something?" He placed his hand on her knee and shook it slightly. "Would you?" Charles was acting completely unlike him. Speaking of his childhood was bringing back such memories and he was far too happy about it, but that was the fun of the game right?

"Yes, yes! Do tell, man." Her hand slid over his to keep him in place. It was natural. It was expected.

"I had _**no**_ eyebrows." He whispered. A grin spread widely across his face as he chuckled.

"No…" She tilted her head back and let out a loud laugh, letting the light pass over her face again. Grace looked back at him as he shook with laughter. "How is it possible?!" She was violently shaking now from the tremors of her giggles.

"I could not tell you, Gracie!" He lay on his back and clutched his stomach. Her laughter stopped but her smile was still present, wide and shining. He had called her Gracie.

"But, you have such…" Shrugging her shoulders to tried to make her comment sound unoffending.

"Large ones, I know."

"I like them." The hand that was not clutched in Charles came to stroke it thick brows. His gaze was now upon her, not that she noticed. Her thumb was stroking them loving. "Strong, and full. They show expression, Charles. I like them." She repeated.

"Thank you."

"My turn, is it not?" She pulled her hand away from his face.

"Yes." Although their hands were still intertwined on her knee, they felt distant from each other.

"Let me think." Her head fell upon the tree once again. Grace chewed the inside of her cheek and pondered her next secret. Charles hand was idly rubbing circles on her knee and it felt so right. She sighed and closed her eyes to take it in. She wanted to remember this moment.

"Whatever you say, I won't hold it against you." He whispered.

"I'm afraid you would…"

"Never, Gracie, never."

"I was married."

The circles on her thigh stopped. And when she opened her eyes she saw he was sitting up. His body was facing her. Cautiously he placed his hand back on her thigh.

"Tell me."

"You'll tell me I'm foolish." She smiled sadly.

"I won't, I swear. Not on such a fragile subject, Gracie."

She sighed and responded rather curtly, "His name was Timothy." Grace inhaled deeply and told her story, "There really isn't much to tell. Young love, tragic death. Nothing spectacular I assure you. Just don't make me tell you it today, alright?" He nodded, understanding her pain. She wiped away a stray tear and placed a smile on her face, "But I believe it's your turn, Charles." Nudging his hand with a strange sense of cheer, he responded with only solemnness.

"I think that's enough for today, don't you think?" He gave her weak smile and placed his other palm on her knee, rubbing both of his hands on her thighs to create a warm friction. It was getting colder. The rays on sunshine still had a soft warmth to it but winter was coming. She shivered and wrapped her shawl around her.

"Would you like to leave now?" He whispered.

"Yes, please."

They packed the few things that were left from their picnic and strolled through the autumn leaves.

* * *

Elsie paced in the kitchens, biting her lip in a furious manner.

"Where is that man?!" She cursed under her breath. She hadn't seen him since their 'fight' in his pantry, which was over 5 hours ago. "The dressing gong should be rung in five minutes and no one has seen hide nor tail of him! Blasted man, Mrs. Patmore." She ran into the stocky woman and apologized, fumbling with the silverware in her hand.

"Mrs. Hughes!" She shouted grabbing the falling spoons from Elsie's hand. "Please! We have forty-five minutes til the dinner is served and that Daisy hasn't even put in the tarts! So, if you would please exit from the cooking area, I would be grateful." She slammed the silver on the table, placing her hands on her hips. Elsie stood dumbfounded. She stumbled with her words of protest but Beryl only pointed to the door and shouted, "Out!"

Elsie stormed out the door, furious with the whole damned house. Her heels were clicking on the paved floor. When she rounded the corner she ran into Anna. Placing a hand on the young woman's shoulder to steady herself she let out a deep breath.

"Please, Anna. Tell me you know where Mr. Carson is." Elsie was practically on the verge of tears. This was a disaster! If Charles wasn't upstairs in five minutes to ring the gong then the whole night would crumble. He wouldn't serve the dinner and then she would have to answer a load of questions she didn't know the answer to. And when he finally appeared he would blame this all on her, saying that she should have found him sooner. The whole night would be on her shoulder.

"Why yes, Mrs. Hughes." Anna said calmly holding the woman steady. "He left a little after lunch time with Ms. O'Donnell." Elsie felt sick. "Are you alright Mrs. Hughes?"

Elsie rolled her eyes and responded, "Fine, just bloody fine, Anna." She stomped away from the young woman and walked into the servant's hall spitting orders.

"Thomas!" He stood up immediately flattening his waistcoat (bless him) "I know its last minute but, it seems Mr. Carson is _preoccupied_." She snarled, "So, you will have to serve the dinner, by yourself tonight." His eyes grew wide with horror.

"Bu-"

"No excuses just do it! Please, Thomas." She begged the young man for his help.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes." He grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and slipped it on. He walked over to Elsie for further instructions. Almost in a motherly way she tightened his tie and straightened his coat, making sure he was perfect. When she grabbed his shoulders and looked into his eyes with determination, he knew this was serious.

"Listen, and listen good, if you _ever_ want to be butler in this damned house; you better be as professional and poised as Mr. Carson himself. You will ring that dressing gong then; ten minutes, Thomas, ten, that is all you get to learn the wines. Anna will help you, go find her before you ring the gong, she shouldn't be far. I want you to be the best, can you do that?" The poor man was scared out of his mind.

"But, Mrs. Hughes, why am I doing this?" Thomas said hastily.

"Because I believe in you, Thomas." She turned him around and gave him a slight push into the hall. "Just, don't disappoint me, please." Elsie was practically begging.

"I won't Mrs. Hughes, I promise." He nodded his thanks and scurried up the stairs.

"Oh! And Thomas!" She hollered behind him.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes." He popped his head in the doorway.

"If they ask where Mr. Carson is, tell them he _wanted_ you to serve the dinner in his place." She grinned, almost maliciously.

"Very good, Mrs. Hughes." Thomas chuckled and shut the door behind him.

_**It's going to be a long night…**_ Elsie thought as she walked into her pantry.

* * *

They stopped by the lake on the way to the house. She wanted to see it but, he told her it was nothing special. Just a small pond really, he had said.

"This is no pond," She stood at the end of the dock. "This is a _lake _and a proper lake at that." Grace set down the basket that held the remaining food and dishes. Shimming off her shawl she threw it with the rest of the stuff. "Is this too forward of me, Mr. Carson?" She teased as she hiked up her skirt to unhook her garters. Her shoes and stockings were already in grass before he noticed what she had said. Lord, what had he gotten himself into.

"No, Ms. O'Donnell. I don't think it is." He smiled and turned around making sure no one was peeping.

"Oh come now, Charles. I'm only dipping my toes in." She giggled and motioned him forward. "You'll have to court me before you start that talk, you silly man." Her toes hit the water and she shivered but still immersed her foot in the water.

"I thought I was courting you?" He took off his shoes and socks as well, "Do you mind?" He sat beside her and rolled up his trousers.

"I believe I was the one who asked _you_ to accompany me for the day. Does that mean I'm courting you?" She giggled and kicked her toes in the water to splash his leg. He only scoffed and shook his head.

"I'll make you a deal. From now on I'll be the one asking _you_ on the outings." He held out his left hand for her to shake. "We can just pretend this was practice, hmm?" When he felt her soft hands grasp his hand; he shivered and sighed.

"Deal." She whispered and leaned closer towards him, his hand still in hers. She stilled halfway and just smiled, chuckling to herself.

"What?" Charles said.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" Grace laughed melodiously.

"Am I-What?" He took a double take and almost lost his balance on the small dock. "I mean… If you want me to?" He questioned slowly.

"Charles, you daft man, I wouldn't be leaning towards you if I didn't want you to kiss me." She released their hands and grasped the back of his neck pressing her lips to his. It was perfect. They knew what was acceptable and what was inappropriate, what they wanted and what they didn't want. He stayed still until he felt her pull him closer and he melted. This was no rushed frenzy on the table, this was slow and true, something that Charles had never experienced with anyone besides Grace. He tangled his hands in the soft curls of hair and got lost in everything that was her.

Her scent, her sound, her everything, and in those few minutes he felt a spark within his heart. Not a fire, not something that would burn his to the touch. But it was warmth, which spread through his veins. This was what it was supposed to feel like this, right? It must have because; he had never felt anything more pleasing.

* * *

Elsie tried to sort out everything that had happened in the last twenty minutes. Charles was with that woman again. Two days! It had been two days since their rendezvous and he was already with that woman again. Thoughts were tumbling in her head and things were adding up, what was he thinking?

_**Did he think I wouldn't find out? What does it matter if I found out or not, right? He practically told me that there was no future for us… But what does it mean? **_

Tears prickled in her eyes and she tried to suppress them. There were more things at hand than their relationship.

_**Do we even have a relationship anymore?**_

Okay, she thought to herself. No more. Tonight's dinner, that's what was important right now. Tonight's dinner…

The tears still fell as she scribbled nonsense onto a piece of paper.

"Mrs. Hughes?" Isobel Crawley knocked on her pantry door and entered. "I'm sorry to inter- Oh dear…" She started to back out of the room when Elsie motioned her to stop and come in.

"Please, it's nothing important. What can I do you for Mrs. Crawley?" Elsie wiped away the stray tears and motioned for Isobel to sit down. Isobel did what she was told and sat down in the seat across from Elsie.

"Well, I just wondered if you knew where Mr. Carson was at the moment." It wasn't a question, particularly, just an observation. Isobel tilted her head to the left as she tried to see Elsie's hidden face.

"I do, Mrs. Crawley. Do you need him?"

"Quite the opposite, my dear. My question is… Do _you _need him?" Isobel leaned closer and seemed to whisper the last words that dripped off her lips. Elsie's head shot up as quickly as the words left the woman's mouth. What was she insinuating?

"I don't mean to be rude, but is that any of your business?" Her Scottish temper, that's what it was.

"Can I tell you story?" Mrs. Crawley said as she looked down to her feet.

"I…" was all Elsie could muster.

"Mrs. Hughes, do you remember that day in Thirsk? The fair, I mean." Elsie nodded, remembering it quite well because Charles was too daft to realize she was asking him to the fair with her. "Well, I accompanied Dr. Clarkson that day, as you well know." At this sentence Isobel smiled.

"But, I did something very stupid, Mrs. Hughes." she took a deep breath and smoothed the imaginary creases in her dress. "Rich- Dr. Clarkson proposed to me." Isobel looked up at the sound of Elsie's gasp. "Well it wasn't really a proposal… He asked if I ever thought of marrying again. I knew what he was implying though. Dr. Clarkson wanted to know if I would every think of marry him. And to tell you truth, I had thought about it. On multiple occasions, actually…" She chuckled and her face became grim. "Do you know what I did Mrs. Hughes?"

Elsie's brow was creased and her heart ached with the pain that Mrs. Crawley held within her.

"No, Mrs. Crawley, I don't."

"Isobel, please."

"No, I don't, Isobel." Elsie stated again.

"I brushed him aside. I acted as if his question didn't even faze me. And the look on his face…" She practically sobbed at the thought, "He looked so helpless and confused at what I was saying to him. I mean, I practically told him that he meant nothing more than a friend to me, that I would _never_ marry him. He drove me home that day, you know." Isobel smiled through her oncoming tears. "Through all the suffering that man went through with me," She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "He still drove me home."

Elsie felt her own tears prickling at the corner of her eyes.

"I had a chance to redeem myself. On the day that Matthew passed. Can you believe it? He told me that he regretted what he said at the fair, and what did I do? I told him I had no idea what he meant, but he persisted. 'I think you do' he said. Oh god," She sobbed, "and he _thanked me_. Thanked me, Mrs. Hughes! He thanked me for breaking his heart. That man, I swear."

Elsie rose from her seat and stood in front of Isobel's Crawley's chair. She handed her a worn down handkerchief, nothing for a woman of her stature.

"Mrs. Cr- Isobel… I'm so-"

"He came back." She looked into Elsie's eyes, red and full of unshed tears. "A week after Matthew died, he came back. He stepped into my household and held me as I ruined his suit with my tears. He told me that he loved me, Elsie." Isobel Crawley stood up and wrung the handkerchief with her hands. "I told him to get out. Can you imagine? What he felt?" She shook her head fiercely in grief.

"Yes. I can." Elsie didn't know what to do.

"I know you can. Because I know you love that man that is with my maid. I know that you feel something for Carson like Richard felt for me. And I want you to do something about it because; Dr. Clarkson doesn't even talk to me anymore, Elsie." Isobel returned the cloth and said "Please, don't let him get away. I assure you, losing a man you love is one the most painful thing you could go through."

"Yes, Isobel." Elsie set the cloth on her desk and wrapped her arms around this woman, as she sobbed like a babe in her arms. This woman was a standing mess, full of sorrow and despair, something that broke but you could never fix.

* * *

They walked through the back door and he motioned her to enter behind him. When he turned back he was greeted with a sight.

"Have you any idea what time it is?!" She shouted at him.

"We've only been gone a few of hours, Mrs. Hughes." He said puzzled.

"_A few hours?_" She scoffed. "A few hours, Mr. Carson?"

"Yes, a few. What on Earth is the matter?" His temper was growing. Grace stood by his side like a wounded pup.

"You were supposed to ring the dressing gong an hour ago, you know." Elsie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at both him and Grace.

"AN HO-" He scurried to take off his hat and coat as he threw them on the hook. Not bothering as they dropped to the floor he practically sprinted to the stairs. A hand stopped him in his track. The small, but strong hand of Elsie Hughes stopped him.

"Don't bother." She stated viciously, "Thomas is upstairs serving the second course right now." Her grasp on his arm only tightened as he glared her into the eyes.

"Thomas?" He stated with such anger that Grace seemed to shrink into the corner of the hall. "You let _**Thomas**_ serve the dinner?"

"Yes, seeing as you weren't here to serve the dinner _yourself_, I told the most experienced to serve."

"Thomas is hardly experience, Mrs. Hughes! You could have told Alfred to do it! He knows how to serve a proper dinner, instead of that _Thomas._" He slithered the boy's name out of his lips.

"Please, Charles. I think I'll leave…" Grace began to open the door when Charles took large strides to stop her. He shut the door and stood over her. Her body was pressed up against the door.

Elsie just watched as he did this. She couldn't argue with him. She couldn't pull him away. She just stood there as he whispered his apologies to the young woman. Elsie couldn't really blame her; after all she fell for Charles Carson as well. When he leaned in closer to her to whisper something into her ear, Elsie turned. She walked pass Mrs. Patmore who was leaning against the doorway from the kitchen. She heard her say something. 'Elsie' she assumed. But she kept walking, not even acknowledging the cook. Striding up the stairs and down every corridor every hallway in the house to conceal herself; to hide herself from all the pain in the world. At the end of the corridor she turned right into the room. Her head banging against the door as she composed herself, inhaling in and out to steady her breathing.

"Mrs. Hughes?" was the last thing she heard when everything went black

**Hey babes, drop me a review eh?**


End file.

Downton Abbey, Angst, Romance