Downton Abbey 1. Chapter 1

**A/N I believe this storyline would've fit very neatly into what the wonderful Fellowes gave us. Thomas is famous for misunderstandings and assumptions, though he does sometimes end up accidentally being surprisingly accurate. I was surprised that his perceptiveness and nosiness were not a bigger part of Anna's** storyline since Thomas can't stand not knowing** a secret and was clearly shocked by her appearance and change in demeanor. I hope you'll enjoy. Other chapters will be much longer.  
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**Lastly, feel free to review or PM me. I love chatting!**

Thomas nearly let his tea cup slip through his fingers in shock. He'd never seen anyone at Downton enter a room in such a state as Anna Bates just had. A scabbed cut split her lower lip, and angry abrasions decorated her face.

"Blimey! What happened to you?!"

Mrs. Hughes was quick to deflect his questioning, and Anna muttered something about a fall without meeting anyone's eyes.

A fall wouldn't have marked her face like that. One bruise perhaps, but not a face-full. She looked as though she hadn't slept at all. There was something alarming about the way she sat, shoulders hunched and drawn in as though she hoped to disappear inside herself and a head ducked out of more than simple politeness. In the fifteen years they'd been working together, he'd never once seen her truly unhappy – not when she was ill, not even when Bates was sure to be imprisoned indefinitely. The fire and energy that usually radiated from Anna was gone, and that was what worried Thomas most. Where were those sparkling eyes always so ready to chastise him?

Before he had much time to get over his surprise, Anna had anxiously sprung from her seat, claiming to have work to do. Thomas balked at the sight of her scurrying away from everyone's prying eyes. What could possibly have happened to cause such a radical change in the few hours since he'd seen her?

As he took more toast, Thomas registered the undertones of Bates questioning Mrs. Hughes. Bates, such a selfish, crude bastard if ever there was one. Thomas never did understand what Anna saw in such an unsteady, temperamental man. And then he froze mid-chew as the sudden realization hit him. He knew exactly where those bruises had come from.

Thomas eyed Bates angrily as he wondered how many more bruises had been hidden under a maid's uniform over the years. How many injuries had Anna sustained in their cottage out back while the rest of the servants slept safely in the abbey? He seethed as Bates continued questioning as though he had no knowledge of the cause of Anna's injuries, as though he wouldn't have asked Anna about them himself before breakfast.

He'd never liked the stupid, lazy cripple who didn't deserve employment. Now he finally had a legitimate reason to unite everyone against him. This was unacceptable, and Thomas cursed himself for not having realized it years sooner.

* * *

**A/N - To new readers - I promise Thomas won't be "mistaken" for very long. Don't worry for Bates' future!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Baxter moves in earlier than she does on the show, even before Anna moves back into the house. Some other events may also be slightly out of order, but hey, it's fanfiction and I needed the events to happen that way : ) **

**If you've already read this chapter, the update was only to fix some punctuation/grammar errors. No need to re-read.**

* * *

Thomas polished the silver with extra vigor though his initial outrage had subsided days ago. More information. He needed more information. Could there be other possible explanations? He considered the facts. Anna had been injured. That needed privacy. Surely she wouldn't have been silent through that. Someone should've witnessed if it hadn't been in a secluded place. Thomas could think of only one place she went that offered such a length of privacy.

Thomas placed the gleaming fork back with the set and began on the spoons. Still, he musn't jump to conclusions. Could someone upstairs have done this? Never one of the family. But one of the visitors at the party? But when would one of them have caught Anna alone? And why would they bother with her? She couldn't have offended anyone. Besides that, which of those gentleman would've hit a woman?

Her bruises had begun to fade, but her smile and laughter had yet to return. Her eyes still resonated with an emptiness that bothered Thomas more than he cared to admit, and he was beginning to fear it would be permanent.

"Thomas, did you hear Mrs. Braithwaite is leaving us?" called Jimmy from behind his stack of laundered and ironed shirts.

"I have," Thomas noted with a triumphant smile to Jimmy's retreating back. He hadn't been personally responsible for that particular sacking, but he still felt gleeful at the thought.

"Can't say I'll be sorry to see her go," Jimmy said breathlessly.

"Nor can I," Thomas answered loudly as Jimmy disappeared.

Ah yes. Edna Braithwaite and her failed scheming. She had tried some truly sinister things that Thomas himself would never stoop to, which had luckily blown up against her. And wasn't that a stroke of fortune on his part. He'd tried to unite with her deviousness in her early days, but she'd proved to be her own force to be reckoned with.

He had big plans for Phyllis Baxter. He knew she'd be able to shed light on Anna's situation, among others. She'd be so grateful for employment she'd lick his shoes if he asked it. Oh yes, Phyllis Baxter would come in very handy indeed.

* * *

I know what's expected. He made it quite clear in his telegram, his words filled with both the rose and the thorns. But then again, there are always thorns where Thomas is concerned. But a lady's maid in a great house… That opportunity doesn't come by every day, especially not for me. How hard can it be to be an informer? There's nothing harmful in it. After all, I'll only be telling the truth.

I knocked gently on the open door. "Anna, do you think you could spare the time to show me where Lady Grantham's dinner clothes are kept? And anything else I might need to know before you leave for London?" I asked pleasantly.

Hardly looking up, she neatly packed a beaded blue dress into Lady Mary's suitcase and led me wordlessly to Lady Grantham's room. I must do better with the quiet lady's maid. She seems to be the only one who hasn't fully warmed to me.

"Are you excited about the trip? Do you think you'll get much time to explore?" I tried again.

"It's hard to say," she nearly whispered as she opened wardrobes and drawers and noted to me what was inside each.

"I used to live in London, but I didn't enjoy it much." I resisted the urge to clap my hand over my mouth. I hadn't meant to go quite that far with my confidences.

Anna must've noticed my sudden discomfort. It was the first time she'd made eye contact with me. She hesitated, wanting to ask more about it, but instead came up with, "I'm sorry to hear that." and returned down the hall to her packing.

Her lack of curiosity was for the best. I don't intend to ever share that particular story. I need to use much more caution when speaking about London.

* * *

_We need to get someone in here who can play that piano again_, Thomas thought as he sat alone smoking in the servants' hall. The keys hadn't been touched since that young bloke Daisy married for pity was pounding out ragtime.

"It's only one night." Anna's voice drifted toward him from the corridor.

"I'll miss you." echoed the soft reply from Bates.

"Don't!" Anna interjected forcefully.

It took every ounce of restraint from Thomas not to spring up at the sound of Anna's distress. What had Bates tried with her this time? There had been no slap, no sounds of violence. He listened as Anna gave her apologies and Bates inquired about her distance.

It was true. She had been avoiding Bates. She always left the servants' hall when he arrived. She had messages delivered to him instead of seeking him out herself. She always arrived in the mornings before he did. Not that he needed any more proof that Bates was the culprit, Anna intended to move back into the house after her return from London. Thomas took a last deep drag from his cigarette as the door snapped shut behind Bates. Anna had just given him all the confirmation he needed. Now the question was, how best to deal with it?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Language warning**

**Also, if you've already read this chapter, the "update" was only to fix minor grammar things. (I should've proofread better, my apologies) So need to re-read. Unless of course that sounds fun!**

"My word! Aren't you frightened that machine will get carried away and chop your fingers off?" Daisy asked me in fear.

I did my best not to giggle. "Well I certainly hope not!" Many had gathered to see the sewing machine at first, but Daisy was the only one to still scurry to the servants' hall when she heard the soft whirring if she had a moment.

"I used to be afraid of electricity. I'm alright with it now, or the lights at least, but I can't imagine using an electric _needle_." Her wide eyes glanced behind me to Anna, who was headed toward the back door and her trip to London. I didn't wait for Daisy's simple mind to wander elsewhere.

"Mrs. Bates seems like a very nice person," I prompted.

"Oh, she most surely is," Daisy supplied readily, but I'd been hoping for a bit more.

"Has she always seemed so down?"

"Anna? Never! Anna is the one to cheer us up if ever we're in need of it. And I've never heard her utter an unkind word to anyone, even when it was deserved."

I sewed in silence for a moment, waiting for Daisy to elaborate. I wasn't disappointed.

"I wish you could've known her just a few weeks ago. She was like a different person then. The kind you'd want for a big sister. She's always ever so kind and helpful. I rather miss her being cheery."

I glanced up at Daisy and nodded understandingly. She had to feel she could confide in me. This business with Anna was beginning to be more than I'd reckoned for. I was beginning to think something much more severe than a lovers' quarrel had gone on here, something in which I should have no part of.

* * *

Thomas had been keeping tabs on Bates since the moment Anna left. He'd wanted to catch him alone, but he hadn't much opportunity between the various duties of both men. Mrs. Baxter had reported nothing on the situation, nothing he didn't already know anyway.

By night fall, he'd finally taken to smoking the time away in the servants' hall, waiting until he heard the faint shuffling of Bates leaving for bed. Thomas snubbed his cigarette and sidled into the corridor.

"You must be missing Anna already," Thomas began casually, striding up to Bates.

"More so than you know," he answered with apparent sincerity, turning to face Thomas.

"Is it true she'll be moving back into the house?" Thomas closed the length of floor between himself and Bates.

Bates stopped walking and looked away with a sigh of defeat.

"Tell me, Mr. Bates. With a leg like that, I know there must be many times you've fallen." Thomas was now nose to nose with Bates. "Have you ever managed to obtain that many bruises _and_ a split lip in a single impact?"

Thomas needn't clarify the bruises to which he was referring. Bates was clearly uncomfortable.

"I also find it strange that a few bruises should cause such a change in our Anna. I don't think I've seen her smile since before her face was battered. Now I don't know about you, but I myself have never sustained a fall so severe as that."

Bates lifted shining eyes to meet Thomas's.

"It makes me wonder if you might be able to shed some light on the _real_ source of her discomfort." And with a swift, muffled thud, Thomas had seized Bates' cane and barred the man against the wall with it. He gave Bates' bad leg a sharp nudge for good measure.

As Bates groaned, Thomas seethed into his ear.

"Now you listen hear you violent, murderous bastard. I'm still not convinced your first wife died of her own accord, and I'll be damned if I let you hurt another. What happened eh?" He pressed the cane sharply across Bates' arms and chest, hoping he'd leave marks as livid as the ones Bates had left on Anna. "Did she prove to be inadequate? Did you simply grow tired of her?" He gave another sharp kick in the bad leg.

"And I'll tell you what else. If another mark appears on that woman's body, it'll be the last motion you ever make. I'll see to that personally." He stared unblinking into Bates' red-rimmed eyes and pressed on the cane until he thought it might snap.

"Thomas…" Bates began, gulping down the pain shooting from his leg and from his heart. "Lad, I would much rather take a dozen more slow-killing bullets than hurt my Anna." He breathed deeply as Thomas relaxed his force on the cane.

"You're right of course," he continued and quickly raised his hands to deflect a punch from Thomas, who thought Bates had just admitted guilt. "NOT that I caused her pain, but that _someone_ must have. It pains me more than you know to not know what happened to her, to have her unable to tell me, to distrust me, despise me so much." He tossed his hands in defeated. "The light has gone from her, the glow of her skin and spark in her eyes that first drew me to her. Everything that makes her the Anna I love, it's fled somewhere I can't find. And I want nothing more desperately than to have her back."

Thomas didn't return Bates' cane. He was not about to be fooled by this act of innocence and ignorance.

"I admire, truly, that you would defend my Anna. This knowledge comforts me. I'm sorry I don't have the answer you sought. Really there's nothing more I can say to convince you of my innocence other than to once again stress how much I love her and remind you we must get to the bottom of what really happened."

Thomas continued to eye Bates. This was not an innocent man.

"Has she mentioned nothing? Has nobody else mentioned nothing?" Bates implored.

"I'm afraid not." Thomas took a small step back. "And Anna has shed no light on the matter for you?"

"She is silent with me on all matters at the moment."

"So I've noticed." Thomas returned the cane to Bates with a shove. "Please understand that I am not fooled Mr. Bates. I presume you guilty until proven otherwise. I will be watching out. And if I were you, and wise, I would do the same." And with a spin of his heel, Thomas strode toward the stairwell and off to bed.

**A/N – So perhaps not the violent outburst many were hoping for, but I believe this would be a more authentic confrontation that did not want to be overheard or interrupted in a crowded house. Also, this altercation reminds me of Bates' threatening Thomas to leave Daisy alone in Series 1.**


	4. Chapter 4

I placed Lady Grantham's night clothes over the bed frame, careful not to make wrinkles or noise. Knowing when to become invisible, feign deafness and blindness was an intuition vital for successful employment as a maid - and for my other current duties.

Ladies say the most extraordinary things in front of their maids. I imagine it must be the same for all servants, but are they never concerned for privacy? I think I might hold more secrets than the walls themselves.

My head was politely bowed, but I was listening intently. I moved slowly, my back to Lady Grantham and Lady Mary's hushed conversation. Apparently Lady Grantham had run into Mr. and Mrs. Bates during dinner in the village, and she'd overheard something most mysterious.

Even the upstairs crowd had noticed the recent tension between Mr. and Mrs. Bates, which spoke volumes to the drastic measure of the change. But whatever Lady Grantham overheard had led her to believe it was something more than a simple argument.

"Anna's been hurt somehow, and Bates feels he should've protected her," she continued with conviction. And then I felt their eyes on me. "I don't want any of that to leave this room, Baxter."

"Course not, My Lady," I replied lightly with a slow turn, as though I'd only just noticed they were conversing. A lady's maid hears nothing.

I busied myself turning down the bed while the ladies drifted from talk of Anna to Lord Grantham and future plans for the estate.

Many nuggets of knowledge had found their way to me in my short time here through polite observation and careful inquisition. I found most of it meaningless. I couldn't imagine why Thomas would take an interest in Carson's past on the stage or the hopeless love mix-up amongst the young kitchen maids and footmen unless he was looking to blackmail.

Thomas seemed more interested in the changes about Downton than the history of its inhabitants. In fact, he'd probably take great interest in the talk of the estate I was now ignoring. And this change in Anna. He had mentioned that.

Anna…I can't claim to know the reserved maid well, but I'd be hard pressed to find anything negative to say. I've warmed to her despite her having not yet warmed to me, and the thought of her having been hurt distresses me more deeply than it probably should. I find it surprising that the two ladies had taken such a callous disinterest in this knowledge moments ago. But then again, a maid's welfare was certainly nothing for a lady to be concerned with.

I wish I'd known her a few weeks ago. I'd liked to have known the Anna everyone at Downton fears may be gone forever. She has brightened recently, thank goodness. She raises her head, meets our eyes with her own containing life again. She speaks and smiles much more freely, but I can tell she is still not the lighthearted soul she once was.

Those first few days with her will haunt me. Others couldn't seem to put their finger on it, but she filled their eyes with worry. It was the way she shrank away from touch, the way her eyes widened yet she grew smaller when someone addressed her, the way she looked as though she wished to somehow curl the entirety of herself into her rib cage, her eyes more empty and forlorn than death itself. Such an aura of hopelessness and defeat, I've seen it before. I didn't need Lady Grantham to tell me Anna had been hurt.

* * *

"But... _How_ was she hurt? What do they say happened to her?" Thomas inquired intently, his imposing frame hovering only millimeters behind mine at my sewing machine. I dreaded these frequent cornerings that made me feel like a naughty child about to be chastised severely. But I was indebted to Thomas and was indeed grateful for my employment. But perhaps I didn't need to keep my end of the bargain so thoroughly in this instance.

"I don't know," I regretted having mentioned it. Things of this nature were no business for any man, much less Thomas.

"What's the matter?" he sighed. I'd annoyed him.

"I don't really like telling tales on her." I didn't dare meet his eyes. "She's polite. She's considerate. I don't feel she's deserved it." Well there it was. I wonder what it will cost me.

Thomas lit a cigarette and strode around the servants' dining table, taking the seat opposite mine.

"How are you finding Downton, Mrs. Baxter?"

"I'm enjoying it," I said hesitantly, yet truthfully, as I mended the seam on a glove.

The sound of Mrs. Patmore shouting about delicacy with the dishes split the afternoon calm. Thomas smirked. "And have you made many friends?"

"I certainly haven't made any enemies, upstairs or down."

Thomas took a long drag on his cigarette. "That's where my mistake lay. They adore me upstairs. But it's quite a different tale down here."

"Yes. I gathered that." I kept my eyes on my sewing.

Thomas leaned in and rested his arms on the table. "This is why I need you. There is one mystery I _must_ get to the bottom of. It's a rather tricky situation."

I glanced up as I prepared to begin ripping out a hem on Lady Grantham's lavender day frock. Thomas was gauging my trustworthiness.

"You say Lady Grantham has knowledge of Anna being hurt," he began carefully. "You see, I know this to be true." His voice was lowered, and he shifted, vulnerable and a little uncomfortable. "Only days before you came here, Mrs. Bates walked through that very entryway with a face marked with injury." He gestured his cigarette and nodded toward the corridor behind me. "She'll readily recite a story about a fall in which she hit her head on the sink, but I'm afraid it doesn't add up for me."

Nor for me.

"The thing is, Anna and I have worked together for over 15 years. The only rare occasions she didn't have a hearty smile on her face were when she was giving me a well-deserved thrashing (he smiled reminiscently) or when she was readily crying about something heartbreaking. She's always told us when something was wrong, and to see her in such a state yet so stoic…" He shook his head.

I peered at his pained face with surprise. I hadn't realized Thomas was capable of genuine concern. Mrs. Bates must mean a great deal to him.

Thomas cleared his throat, and I quickly returned my sight back to my work. "Given his history and her secrecy, I feel Bates must be the source. He denies this of course, and what's more, he seems to be back in her good graces." He stared at his hands in hopeless confusion. "Regardless, something quite serious has gone on here, and I intend to put it right." His conviction had returned. "But in order to do that, I must be sure of what has happened. No rash mistakes, you understand." He waited for me to meet his eyes, and I obliged.

"I know it may be difficult for someone here a short time to gain such knowledge. But you'll think of something." Without waiting for a response, he'd snubbed his cigarette and strode away.

Blimey. I wonder what it would be like to have someone care for me so much as that.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm certainly looking forward to a nice lemon ice. I'll say that much." Mr. Molesley smiled at me over his cup at afternoon tea.

"All the novelties at the fair, and you look forward to a lemon ice you could buy in the village." Mrs. Hughes shook her head.

"Well I'll be taking all my pocket change to the games booths, thank you very much," Jimmie supplied. Talk broke out around the table as everyone recalled their favorite fair games and warned about the ones that were a waste of money and energy.

I was pleased Mr. Carson had in the end yielded to Mr. Molesley's returning. Unlike myself, it was no fault of his own the fellow had fallen on hard times. He didn't deserve to live out his days in destitution.

"I think this is the right place." The unannounced man was a stranger to me, but he seemed to be known to everyone else. Greetings shot from around the table and from Mrs. Patmore passing through.

"Will there be any more racing demon this time, Mr. Gillingham?" Jimmie finished.

"It depends on if you're up to it. But I expect you've all got things to do," Green smiled slyly as he took the seat next to me that Mr. Molesley had pulled out for him.

There was something oddly uncomfortable about Green's proximity. I felt as if I were a hare suddenly caught in a wolf's sight. The air was charged with the sensation that I wasn't the only one who felt this. Across from me, Mr. Carson's face searched Mrs. Hughes, who'd gone suddenly rigid and somber and refused to return his gaze.

"Mrs. Baxter, I wonder if you could - " Anna had entered swiftly, but froze, her eyes darting around our congregation.

I shifted to face her. "If I could what?" I prompted.

She regained composure and began again. "I was wondering if you could let me have some white thread. I seem to have run out."

"Of course," I smiled genially. A lady's maid perceives nothing.

Within seconds of Anna's exit, Mrs. Hughes was up and following slowly and stiffly, Mr. Carson's eyes following her feeble attempt at appearing inconspicuous.

I chanced brief glimpses at Green, wishing him not to notice me. His words gave off a sense of cockiness I'd never known of any guest, certainly never a guest in the servants' hall. There was something predatory in the very way he sat and gestured, the way he spoke to the men about not wanting to shock the ladies, yet acted as though all of us women were simple beings whom he need not waste time chatting with. I wondered what all Anna and Mrs. Hughes knew.

* * *

Anna flew up the staircase, her head ducked as she fled for the women's servant quarters.

"Where's the fire?" Thomas had started with a smile, but it vanished as she passed him on the landing. Her lowered eyes were filled with shock and fear. She emanated panic.

Before he thought better of it, Thomas extended an arm to catch her shoulder. "What's happened?" His eyes were wide as he tried to peer into her downturned face.

"Nothing," Anna said brightly to her shoes. "It's nothing of course." She gave a weak smile. "I'd better get on," she told the banister.

Thomas stepped up to block her path, releasing his gentle grip on her and shocked he'd been so bold as to actually place a hand on her.

"Wait…" he began. This was a conversation he'd wanted to practice a few times before actually confronting her, but fate hadn't allowed for that. "I can't pretend to be blind to how changed you are. Nor can anyone else. Blimey even the upstairs crowd - " He stopped himself. He knew he had mere seconds to say what was needed.

"I can't allow this to continue, whatever it is," he sighed. It's clear you've been hurt. I'd give anything for a good telling off if it meant you were cheerful again," he tried with a smile.

Anna lifted her head but did not meet his eyes. "And what is it for you to say how cheerful I am?! That's no concern of yours!" She made to escape up the stairs, but Thomas blocked her.

"Please, you've misunderstood. I don't care how you treat me. But I just can't get those bruises out of my mind. It's like you died the moment they appeared." Tears were threatening to fall from Thomas's red-rimmed eyes, the sight of which made them pour from Anna's.

"You know nothing of the sort," she said with conviction. "I told you then, and I'm telling you again. It was nothing."

"It's not nothing!" Thomas nearly shouted. "It's the very opposite of nothing! YOU are the very opposite of nothing to me and everyone else here!"

Anna was startled into meeting Thomas's sorrowful eyes. His impassioned words were perhaps the first she'd actually heard in weeks.

Anna's chin trembled, and she let her tears cascade freely. "Please…" she begged. "I'm so sorry to have troubled you all, truly. But we both must get on. You must put it from your mind." She made a third start up the stairs, but this time Thomas grabbed both her shoulders, speaking quickly and intently inches from her face.

"Was it Bates? Please just tell me if it was Bates. I promise you I'll take care of it. You won't be hurt again."

Anna jerked back forcefully from his grip as Thomas cringed at the sound of footsteps at the bottom of the stairwell.

"Don't ever say a word against Mr. Bates! He is not capable of hurting me."

"I imagine you have work to be getting back to." Mrs. Hughes addressed me coldly as she climbed the staircase to meet us. "Anna, she began more softly. I've got some white thread in my sitting room if you'd care to come get it."

Anna nodded and followed Mrs. Hughes wordlessly, her soft sniffs echoing up the massive staircase.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - I hope you enjoy this chapter. I wasn't sure how to present some of this, but here it is - calmly, discreetly, and with heads held high - in the usual Downton fashion. I've used some time period specific things in this chapter, so if you don't know what something is, feel free to ask : ) Trigger warning for descriptions of sexual violence (memories).**

It was true the servants' hall was one of the rare places below stairs wired with electricity, but sewing in such a well-travelled spot had other benefits. It was Mr. Molesley who had stopped to look in on me this time. He was a keen fellow, and I wondered just how keen he would become. I think he sensed we were kindred spirits, neither of us having known kindness or fortunate times in quite a while. Thomas would like my warming to him, but not if it were genuine.

"I admire that. It's a real skill," he complimented.

"Mr. Molesley!" I began brightly."Is it true you used to be a valet to the late Mr. Crawley?" Ask people about themselves first and they'll be more willing to tell you about others.

"I was. And butler to his mother before that. I've come down in the world." He didn't want reminding.

"You can climb up again." I looked up at him so he'd know I meant it.

"Maybe… But life kicks the stuffing out of you sometimes, doesn't it?"

I'd spent many years feeling as hopeless as this man looked. It had all happened so suddenly, as I imagine it had for him. I wanted more than anything for him to know this. It had taken decades, but I had finally stumbled upon hope, stumbled upon it as easily and unexpectedly as I'd stumbled upon misery. And although it was tainted hope, I was grateful for every blessed day of employment.

"I've had reason to think that more than once." I looked away, finding difficulty in speaking of my shame. "I've often wondered if there's any point to it. Yet here I am, lady's maid to a countess. So, it can happen."

"Now you've made me curious." He took another step into the servants' hall.

Oh no, Mr. Molesley. You will never be privy to that story.

"I'm curious about something, and you could help me." I didn't need the answer, but could use the change in subject. "Do you know if Mr. and Mrs. Bates have had a falling out?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Bates? That's not very likely." And he was gone.

I sighed. The poor devil may have been willing to hand me the world, but he had the observation skills of cold soup.

* * *

"Thomas," Bates stated softly and grimly at the foot of the stairwell. "I wondered if I might have a word."

"Certainly." Thomas turned, descended the stairs stiffly, and followed Bates into the boot room.

Bates shut the door with the faintest of thuds, keeping his hand on the knob so as not to be disturbed. "It seems his Lordship is bound for America."

"And you'll be going with him," Thomas finished.

"So it seems."

Thomas waited patiently, hands clasped behind his back, for Bates to reveal what this had to do with him.

"I cannot think of worse timing for me to have to leave Anna. And for such a length of time." He tightened his grip on the knob. "Have you come across any new knowledge regarding her?"

"I'm ashamed to admit I haven't." Thomas was sincere. Obtaining information never proved this difficult for him.

"Well, you see, I have. And I'm afraid I must enlist your help while I'm away."

Thomas straightened even more so, his face suddenly alert. "What's happened then?"

"I have substantial reason to believe Mr. Green is the source of her injury and ongoing pain. In fact, I am certain, though Anna denies it."

Thomas took a step forward. "Absolutely certain?"

"Couldn't be more so." Bates nodded. Thomas had had initial suspicions that Bates was merely drafting a cover story to clear his name, but he was beginning to believe his sincerity.

"And what...(Thomas glanced at his shoes before focusing an unblinking stare on Bates) transpired between the two?"

Bates was only able to meet Thomas's eyes for a brief moment before swelling and turning his clenched jaw to the wall.

"Mr. Bates, I have several friends in London who are indebted to me. I do not believe any of them would have any difficulty in discreetly helping take care of some unwanted debris."

Bates was shocked. He had his own connections. This wasn't quite what he'd enlisted Thomas for.

"Would you care for me to post a letter?"

"Are you mad?! Nothing can be in _writing_!" Bates hissed through clenched teeth. "No." He waved him off. "No, that is something I must take care of myself on my return. It's something else I need from you."

"Go on then."

"It's clear to me from our last meeting that you have an honest interest in Anna and her welfare. What I need is protection for her while I'm gone. "

"Consider it done, Mr. Bates."  
Bates nodded and began to turn the knob.

"But make no mistake," Thomas interjected. "I will not hesitate to take the matter into my own hands should the need arise in your absence."

Bates gave an admiring glance. "I would expect nothing less."

* * *

"Maybe so," Mr. Green laughed as he sliced his ham. A shiver ran up my spine and tingled the nape of my neck. The sound of his voice or a glimpse into the abyss of his eyes struck such unease in me the way only one other ever had. I'd been brushing off these unfounded prickles as best I could, but the sensations only grew stronger the longer he stayed.

Dinner has been a most uncomfortable affair. I'd somehow managed to get seated next to Mr. Green again. I was amazed at how we were all crushed by his very presence. His words and character left no room at the extensive dining table for anyone else's comfort. Only Jimmie and Mr. Molesley seemed glad for his company.

Seated across from me, Anna has been a spectrum of emotions I haven't yet seen of her, though most of what I've seen previously has actually been a complete lack of emotion instead. She heard nothing that was said and ate with an angry anxiety as though in constant desperation to flee.

Realization struck hard as Jimmie carried on complaining about the guest gentlemen not bringing valets. I'd been confused, or perhaps wishing I'd misinterpreted, but there was no more denying it. I knew exactly what had transpired here because I was no longer seated across from Anna. Instead, the young ghost of a long-forgotten, brunette housemaid I'd known many years ago came rushing back.

I'd come out of a home for friendless girls with training and found my first job as a housemaid in a London great house. It took some adjusting in suddenly being among the youngest in the house, but I was ever so glad for the employment. Most other girls from the home found their way into scullery or tweenie jobs first. But I had worked hard and had come with a good recommendation.

The family and staff had been ever so kind. Downton in many ways reminded me of that first job. The youngest son of the Earl, in particular, would find excuses to stay behind or look for things in rooms I was working in, striking up conversations with sly grins and winks and asking how I was getting on. I'd never had such attention and had no notion what to do with either that or the vague, confusing warnings of fellow housemaids to stay out of trouble.

He began to intuit where I'd be at any given moment. There was no avoiding him. He would be waiting in corridors he knew I'd enter before I myself knew, his cold, empty eyes grazing my small frame, and occasionally his hands doing the same.

He even came to learn when it was I'd head to the attic for a fresh apron. One day I found him waiting for me, apron in hand and a crooked, sinister grin on his face, in the room I shared with a quiet girl named Elizabeth.

Sputtering apologies, I made to leave. But I'd only just turned when the door was slammed and my mouth covered by an impossibly fast hand. I nodded as he insisted we'd do this quietly and quickly.

Nobody had mentioned to me that relations were painful. I tried to stay silent, but occasional cries escaped, followed by shushing and a large hand once again clapped over my mouth and stealing my ability to breathe. Sweat and tears soaked my dress as I prayed to somehow take back all the encouragement I'd given him. I was so frightened we'd be found, people always up and down the stairs, in and out of corridors. And sure enough, the head housekeeper entered with the force of a hurricane.

I was understandably thrown out. During the last hour of my time there, Elizabeth had gushed a confusing, muddled apology followed by a shocked hand clapped to her mouth and a plea of me not to share what she'd just revealed. It was the most she'd ever said to me. Apparently, she had also been seduced by the young master, but fortunately for her, not discovered. I kept her secret. There was no need for us both to be cast away.

Being tainted, I had no hope for marriage or employment in service. And what other employment was there? Even the friendless girls' home I'd come from had been upset, noting that it would be hard to place girls in the future if I established a promiscuous reputation for alumni of theirs. (They'd received a very nasty letter shortly after my sacking, and that was the first place I sought help.) I should've fled, but had no means to do so.

I'd finally been able to find work in helping a woman who took in washing. When she died, I'd continued the service and expanded to mending and sewing. It was enough to get by most times, but by no means a good life. And then Thomas had telegrammed, promising gainful employment and a kept secret in return for a simple assignment.

Elizabeth… I peered at Anna, looking more than ever like a trapped, hunted animal as I talked with Mr. Green about Dame Nellie's singing. In honesty, I'd realized weeks ago that it was Elizabeth I saw each time I looked at Anna. But wasn't it amazing the things we could convince ourselves to ignore? A braver woman might've also noted the identicalness between Anna's eyes and the ones I saw reflected in that cursed bedroom mirror all those years ago.

Elizabeth, presumably, never had been found out. I don't believe anybody other than myself ever knew. But the funny thing about it was, it was obvious Anna had been. I was at a loss as to how she was still employed much less honorably married. It was clear that not only her husband knew what had transpired, but also Mrs. Hughes and God knew who else. That woman must have the angels on her side to have so many willing to keep such a secret and ignore such a fault. Thomas would've shouted it from the rooftops surely. I know he'd not hesitate to oust me the moment I displeased him. I must find a way to feign naivety over this when dealing with him.

"So what did you do?" I asked Mr. Green, who it seemed had no appreciation for good music.

"I came down here for a bit of peace and quiet, that's what."

I couldn't have been less prepared for the ripple that ran around the table. What had I done? I could nearly hear Anna's heart. She paled and gawked at me before trading terrified glances with Mrs. Hughes. Even Jimmie picked up on something amiss. I could kick myself for causing this.

As if to cover up the awkward admission, Anna smiled reassuringly at Mr. Bates. And what happened next nearly made my dinner return. For a brief second I thought the intent, focused glare from Mr. Bates was directed at me. But then I understood. The mouse is always aware of the snake's presence.

I averted my eyes quickly to my plate. A lady's maid knows nothing. And I keep my place.

* * *

**A/N I think it's obvious, but I'd like to note that I of course do not at all blame Anna, Mrs. Baxter, young Elizabeth, or any other who has been through such an awful experience. But I think Baxter's callousness would have been necessary for her emotional survival and shows the typical view of a person of that time period.**


	7. Chapter 7

"I feel we may find ourselves witnesses to a Renaissance duel before long," Thomas smiled around the table, lingering on Green. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

"Oh I don't know about that," Green joked back. "Lady Mary is clearly most drawn to my employer." He took a bite of potato. "Besides, he's the only one well off enough to still have a valet," he said smugly. "So she can rest assured he's not after her money."

Mrs. Hughes looked as though she were sitting on something uncomfortable, much the way she always looked in Green's presence - a fact not unnoticed by Thomas. He deliberated finding out how much she knew but then decided it no longer mattered. He had all the information there was to have.

Thomas had been hugely successful in tailing Green. It didn't hurt matters that Molesley was also dogging the man, constantly on the beg for card tricks and most likely tips with the ladies.

Molesley was following Green yet again asking about life in London, so Thomas took the opportunity to seek out Mrs. Baxter.

"Can't it wait, Thomas? The dressing gong's just rung," Mrs. Baxter said impatiently when he'd caught up to her.

"Not this time." He motioned for her to follow him into the slightly more secluded nook in the corridor. "How much do you know of Mr. Green?" he asked quickly.

"No more than you do I'm sure," she hissed.

"No matter." He rocked on his heels as Mrs. Baxter shook her head with a sigh. "That's not what I need to know.

"Has he tried anything unseemly with you?" He asked directly and casually. None must hear a tense tone and look in on the matter.

Mrs. Baxter didn't show her surprise at either the extent of Thomas's knowledge on the matter or the fact that Thomas should find himself concerned for her, though she was utterly shocked at the latter.

"He hasn't," she said with dignity, her eyebrows raising over quick blinks and a slight shake of her head.

"Has he toward anyone else?"

Noting her hesitation, he added, "Since you've been employed here?"

Mrs. Baxter shook her head again.

"You'll let me know if that changes." It was an order, rather than a request. If Mr. Bates felt he needed to be the one to take care of the matter, Thomas would be respectful of the decision. But each passing day made it harder for Thomas to bear Green's presence, and watching Anna carry the burden of encountering Green was pure torture. Thomas knew Bates hadn't been counting on Green being present so often - or at all - when he'd made that request of Thomas. Surely he'd understand if Thomas took a more proactive step.

* * *

"Where've you been?" Mr. Bates asked Thomas with anger. "If I recall, you had very specific duties that I left you with. Duties that should _not_ have been abandoned!" Bates was turning red.

"Thomas had to make an emergency trip to London. His poor uncle…" Daisy looked at Thomas with sympathy as she carried what was left of the cheese from the evening meal.

Thomas returned a solemn bow of his head, looking positively forlorn until Daisy was back in the kitchen.

"Might we have a sit in the servants' hall, Mr. Bates?" Thomas extended an arm as though directing a visitor.

Bates led the way with an eyebrow raised.

When both were seated at the far end of the table, invisible to most passersby, Thomas began in an undertone.

"I couldn't take any more of him, Mr. Bates. You've no idea what it was like dining with him, hearing him talk, seeing him with Anna." He said the last bit slowly, enunciating each painful word. "I needed to take care of it." He lit a cigarette and rested it in his mouth. "I'm sure you can understand my short absence."

Bates was surprised. "So the matter is settled then?"

Thomas leaned in over the table. "I took a train up to London. Met with some old friends I knew would be willing to help with the deed, knew they'd have some good ideas for the finer points of the plan. Promptly went in search of the man." He took a deep drag, clearly still anxious about the day's events. "Funny thing was… We went to Gillingham's place. But Green wasn't there. Hadn't been sacked, hadn't quit, nowhere to be found. So, naturally, we asked about local pubs or inns he frequents – anywhere he might be. Checked all of them." He shook his head in bewilderment.

"Why did you tell the servants you were looking for him?"

"Told him we had some bad news about a cousin. That were Henry's idea. He's a sharp one, that chap. Planned out what to do if the bastard weren't there – and what to do if he were."

"So he still breathes." Bates said with resignation.

"I'm afraid so." Thomas had never been more disappointed in himself.

"Could he have known you were coming?" It was the only conclusion Bates could make.

"Couldn't have. Even my mates didn't know I was. And unless he knew more than he let on, he didn't know I knew his secret."

Bates nodded thoughtfully. Thomas had still managed some vital things. He at least knew the places Green frequented.

"But what disturbs me is that…" Thomas was nearly shaking now. "Is that… apparently…. the other servants haven't seen him since yesterday. They all thought he'd been here or there. It wasn't until we came that they realized none of them knew his whereabouts. No telling who dressed Lord Gillingham last night or this morning."

Bates understood the predicament, but Thomas voiced it anyway.

"Did he flee? Did he do something else horrendous? Is he waiting outside this very moment, stalking the abbey? Has someone else found him first? _Where_ is he?" Thomas shifted in his chair. "I'm more uneasy now than I was when I left this morning – if that's even possible."

Thomas had never killed a man. Bates wondered if he'd be able to if the actual moment came.

"And I can't very well fake another family emergency anytime soon. I was stupid. Told them he died. Should've given him a disease that would come back to finish him later." Thomas shook his head in further annoyance with himself as the cloud of cigarette smoke thickened.

Bates shrugged. "I'll need to run errands for His Lordship quite soon. I can guarantee it."


	8. Chapter 8

"How are things out here?" Thomas asked Mr. Bates as he set down a tray of flower filled vases and began transferring them to the table.

"It looks like it'll be a tidy profit," Bates said without looking over.

Thomas followed his line of vision to Anna, who was happily trying out one of the fishing games next to Mr. Branson and his Sybbie.

"I do still miss her," Mr. Bates remarked sadly as the sounds of children's laughter and light-hearted conversation washed over them from around the fair. I know she'll never return to me. Not truly." He paused while an elderly gentleman purchased a vase of yellow roses. "There's a trust that's not there anymore, with me or with anyone. It's as though she feels she's no longer one of us, like she doesn't belong. She's hesitant to talk about anything now, even the light subjects. She's haunted. We are both haunted."

"It's her laughter I wish would return," Thomas commented.

"And the carefree happiness she brought to us all, the innocence in her eyes," Bates added with a reminiscent smile. "But I suppose that's the way of life. I'm quite sure I'm not the same person I was on our wedding day either. It is in the changes that we come to know and love each other more."

"Quite so," Thomas nodded. "Even still, I don't suppose His Lordship has any plans for London anytime soon?"

* * *

So Thomas found out. Somehow. I still can't understand why it's such a concern of his. She's just a maid, and I know he's certainly not the sort to be calling after her. And he doesn't want to ruin her, which I find even more curious. Thomas will never cease to surprise me.

He doesn't like my new alliance with Mr. Molesley. I don't think he's comfortable with my feeling closer to someone than I am to him, worried I'll confide in someone else. Or worse still, tell tales of Thomas himself. No, Thomas doesn't want me trusting anyone other than him. I wonder if he has any actual friends himself. He must be quite lonely also. Maybe that was my real purpose.

But it's been so, so long since I've been happy. So long. I'm not sure I remember what it's like. And even if this is only ever a friendship with Mr. Molesley, it'll still be more than I've known. There is such a comfort and safety in having someone happy to see me, wanting to know my interests or if I'd want to join in a game of cards. I'm not willing to let that go.

·

* * *

I quietly gasped with shock. How curious and strange for the man we all wished to be dead to suddenly be so! And so many witnesses to such an unfortunate and coincidental accident…

I had at first believed Lord Gillingham's release of the man would be enough to protect my Anna, and I knew he loved me enough to follow through with the request. But upon ending our luncheon, a horrible thought struck me. By asking the valet to be released yet withholding the reason, I would be personally responsible for dooming another unsuspecting household to that monster's whims. I couldn't allow that. No. There really was only one proper solution.

People believe women incapable of most things, particularly tending to difficult matters ourselves. And often, I do not think we ourselves know what we are capable of until the water is boiling and we are in it. After all, none, including myself, thought me capable of running an estate or even contributing. People would've scoffed at the thought of me bathing in mud through the night with a near stranger to rescue some silly pigs. There was even a time when many doubted my ability to even secure a husband.

But I am a Lady. I have survived the deaths of my love and beloved sister, several forced betrothals, and the threat of a ruined reputation - all with my head held high. I have a strength and poise that could never have been gained with a simple life, and I am capable of so much more than has been done here. After all, we must rise to life's challenges.

.


End file.

Downton Abbey, Angst, Hurt-Comfort