A Little Treasure

Summary: A Little treasure and a larger one: Mrs. Hughes finds them both.

It was mid-afternoon, and Elsie Hughes sat at her desk trying desperately to write a letter to her sister. It was difficult for her for so many reasons. Each time she tried to explain, in simple and respectful terms, what had had happened to Lady Sybil, she felt a fresh wave of sadness creep into her mind, taking over her thoughts and leading her down uneasy pathways. But, she had been promising herself that she would write the letter, even though her sister had no first-hand knowledge of the family she served. She did, however, have some idea of how special Lady Sybil had been to her. She'd written often about the vivacious girl, always bubbling with happiness and laughter, a truly sweet and innocent spirit that looked for and found the good in everyone she met. Mr. Carson had once confided in her that even a butler had his favorites and she had to admit, a housekeeper did, too. Only now, her favorite had left this world forever but not before leaving behind a beautiful part of herself, in the form of that precious wee babe upstairs.

With a deep sigh, Elsie turned her thoughts back to the stationary in front of her and continued her letter. The maids were all busy with their chores, and in the distance, she could hear the distinct sounds coming from the kitchen indicating that the dinner preparations were well under way. She had left Charles in his pantry, sorting out the wine inventory and his orders for the upcoming month. So, when she heard a faint knock on her door, she was a bit puzzled, but not enough to turn her attention fully to the door.

"Yes, come in," she called out as she finished writing the last bit of one paragraph of her letter. "What is it?"

"I am sorry for barging in, Mrs. Hughes."

That voice, that accent was unmistakable. She turned hurriedly in her chair, her face a mixture of surprise, sadness, and sympathy. "Mr. Branson, what may I do for you this afternoon?" she asked, rising from her chair and crossing the room to his side. Tenderly, he held the little baby in his arms, wrapped in a soft white blanket that Lady Sybil had bought only a few weeks prior while in Ripon.

"May we come in and sit with you for a bit?" he asked, nervously shuffling from one foot to the other while waiting on her reply.

"Well, of course you may," she answered softly, closing the door behind him and offering him a seat on her settee. "Shall I have Mrs. Patmore bring us a pot of tea or were you not planning to stay that long?"

"No, no tea for me, thank you." He stood next to the offered seat, though he did not accept her invitation just yet. "I came here to see you … well, we came to see you. I'm sorry we haven't been down earlier. It's been a bit … hectic, if you will, upstairs."

Elsie stepped closer to his side, admiring the baby he held in his arms. "I'm sure it's all been very difficult for you, my lad, but you're handling it well. And Miss Sybil certainly looks well cared for, I must say," she said softly, running the back of her index finger across the baby's cheek. "She already reminds me of her mother, though Lady Sybil was a wee bit older when I started working here."

"Sybil always spoke very highly of you, Mrs. Hughes. She told me stories about how she would come to you with her problems or when she needed a warm hug and a cuddle. You were always her favorite, you know," he said, his eyes filling with tears as Elsie chewed on her bottom lip to battle her own tears.

She smiled sweetly at him, her mind suddenly filled with memories of the little dark haired girl who used to bound into her sitting room full of excitement and giggles. Elsie even had a little box tucked away safely where she kept the drawings and little objects Lady Sybil had given her over the years. Finger paintings, drawings, a leaf she found particularly colorful on an autumn walk, a shiny stone she'd "discovered" by the lake … a lifetime of memories from a happier time, now stored safely in that little box. "She was always very special to me, as well. I hope she knew that," Elsie said with a bit of sadness in her voice. "It wasn't always easy expressing our feelings …"

"But, she knew, Mrs. Hughes. Otherwise, she wouldn't have visited you as often as she did. "Tom shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to sit? I'm sure …"

He shook his head. "No, but, well, I was wondering if you might … I know you haven't been upstairs to see …" He couldn't finish his sentence. He didn't wish to offend Mrs. Hughes, the one person who had always tried to be kind to him, who had warned him about falling in love and ending up with a broken heart and no job. Instead of trying to find the appropriate words, he simply kissed Sybil's forehead and then very gently handed her to Elsie.

"It's high time she met you, Mrs. Hughes. I'm sorry we haven't been down before now to meet you properly. I kept meaning to bring her to see you. I know my Sybil would have wanted it. She would have done it herself, I'm sure, or she'd have sent for you. I think you were a sort of grandmother figure to her in a way that Her Ladyship wasn't, if I might be so bold."

Elsie felt her knees go a little weak as she looked down at the baby with the bright blue eyes looking back up at her. With care and ease, she sat down on her settee and cradled the wee babe in her arms, rocking her gently without realizing she was doing it. "She's beautiful, Tom, and she has such bright eyes. They seem to shine with life." Elsie never took her eyes off the baby snuggled in her arms. It might be her one and only chance to hold the lass and she wasn't going to waste it. She closed the distance between them and pressed a light kiss to the top of the baby's head. "And such dark hair, just like her … mother," she said as her voice cracked a little. "Thank you for coming down to see me. I feel honored."

"It's only right that she meet you, and, I was hoping to ask a favor of you, if I may?" When Elsie looked up at him, he felt encouraged enough to ask. "I wanted to visit Sybil's grave, you see, and while the nurse is doing her job, I thought my Sybil might benefit from a bit of grandmotherly love from you. I will, of course, understand if you're too busy and I realize it's a great imposition to ask."

Elsie tightened her hold on the baby and let a few tears slip down her cheeks in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. "I would love to watch your little one, if you're sure the family upstairs won't object."

"Let them object as much as they want. She's my daughter and I'll not have her being raised as a snob. She is going to hear all about the lovely Mrs. Hughes that her mother knew and loved, and I hope she'll have her own chance to get to know you. She will if I have anything to say about it."

"Very well, then. Leave the lass with me. We'll be just fine, I promise you that." She turned her attentions back to the babe in her arms and began to hum softly to her as her little eyes began to close in sleep. "And Tom … thank you for this. It means a lot to me." With a nod of understanding, he gently closed the door behind him, leaving Elsie and Sybil to bond.

With the door closed and the rest of the world shut out of her sitting room, Elsie began to sing softly to the little girl nestled safely in her arms. She silently wept for the mother who would never get this chance to sing her baby to sleep, would never see her take her first steps, speak her first words, fall in love with her own handsome lad. She was so enamored with the little girl that she failed to hear the knock upon her door.

Charles Carson had knocked twice and still had received no permission to enter but he'd seen Mr. Branson and the baby entering her office. He was concerned about Elsie, wondering what had transpired and if she was well. Quietly, he eased open the door and stopped as soon as his eyes landed on Elsie and the little bundle in her arms.

She sun was shining through the window, catching the highlights in her hair. She was singing very softly and rocking the baby in her arms, every bit the mother and grandmother she had never had a chance to become. He waited until she had completed her song before he stepped fully into the room, easing the door closed behind him.

"I did knock," he said in his own defense, "but you didn't hear me." He crossed the room to her side and looked down at the baby. "She's sleeping, then. Where's Bran … Tom?"

"Gone to visit her mother, I'm afraid, but he left her in my care. Isn't she beautiful, Mr. Carson? Looks every bit the little lady that her mother was. "

"Yes, yes, she does." He sat down beside them on the settee and peered over the edge of the blanket. "I remember the night she was born. Such a thunderstorm outside, it was. And we had a time getting the doctor here, too. But wouldn't you know it, the morning she was born, the sun was shining and everything looked so fresh and green. Even the birds seemed happier that morning."

Elsie could tell that, while Mary was his favorite, Sybil had also been special to him. She'd seen it on his face the night the girl had died, and now he was practically waxing poetic about her birth. "Here," she said softly, "take her. I'm sure Tom won't mind, and my arm is a little tired," she said, that last part a lie. She would have held the little girl until her arm had no feeling left in it, but she felt Mr. Carson might like a chance to touch one last bit of the sweet spirit that was Sybil.

"I … I don't know that I should, really. I've been polishing the silver and … "

"Nonsense! You always take great care to wash your hands thoroughly and besides that, she's wrapped in layers of clothes and the blanket," she countered, carefully shifting the still sleeping baby from her arms to his.

Elsie grinned as she soaked up the sight of such a big and imposing man holding such a small little baby in his arms. Sybil took a deep shuddering breath before shifting her body closer to Charles. She must have sensed his protection and love, for she let out the smallest of sighs and drifted back into her very peaceful sleep. "See, she knows you love her," Elsie whispered, peering over Charles's shoulder and down into the sleeping baby's face. "Her mother loved you, too, you know. I'm sure of it."

"Oh, but you were her favorite, Mrs. Hughes. Everyone in the house knew that." He turned to give her a smile, not realizing how close her face was to his own. He was a bit surprised when she didn't lean back a little. Without any warning, Elsie pressed a light kiss to his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder, something she had never done before.

"She was very special to me, and so is this little girl. She's going to have a difficult time of it, I'm sure, but we have to make sure she hears stories of her mother, assuming, of course, they stay close to Downton or visit us often."

Charles suddenly felt very overwhelmed. Little Sybil in his arms, Elsie kissing his cheek and resting her head on his shoulder … it was almost too much … almost. "I'm sure they will visit, and when they do, we'll have to let Mr. Branson know that we'd very much like to see our Sybil, even if it's only for a few moments. Perhaps you could tell him that when he returns for her."

"I think he already knows, Mr. Carson," Tom announced from the doorway. He'd taken the liberty of opening the door without knocking, in case he interrupted a special moment between Mrs. Hughes and his little girl or in case they were both taking a little nap. When he saw Mr. Carson tenderly holding his baby, he couldn't bear the thought of disturbing the trio.

Charles stiffened for a moment, wondering just how much the young man had heard and propriety demanding that he rise since a member of the upstairs was in his presence. But, he stopped when he felt Elsie's hand on his arm, stilling him.

"Please, don't get up," Tom said, stepping just inside the doorway. "I would feel honored if you, the both of you, would help me tell Sybil about her mother. Seems you both knew her so well and could tell her stories about her childhood that I never had a chance to hear, things her mother and father, sisters, and grandmother never knew. Please … for Sybil's sake."

"We would be glad, Tom," Elsie answered. "She really is a lovely girl, and I'm sure Lady Sybil would have been very proud of her. She is proud of her," she amended. "I suppose you'll be needing to get her back to the nursery. She's slept for most of the time you were gone so I imagine she'll wake hungry soon."

Charles took that as his cue to hand the baby back to Elsie, but not before kissing her cheek softly. "Sleep well and sweet dreams, m'lady," he whispered, loud enough for only the baby and Elsie to hear.

Elsie took her and gave her a similar kiss. "It was lovely spending the afternoon with you. I hope you'll come back to visit me soon, my little treasure."

"You know, you're both welcome to visit her in the nursery whenever you want. I'll make sure to tell the nurse, and I'll do my best to bring her down to visit again. Mrs. Hughes, you could sing her to sleep and Mr. Carson, I'm sure you would do a fine job of tucking her into her cot." He took Sybil from Elsie and gave the baby a hug. "Well, we'll be seeing you. I appreciate your help today, and I hope I can count on you in the days ahead."

"If you should need anything, Mr. Branson, you know where to find us," Charles offered. "Mrs. Hughes, I would like to speak with you when you have a free moment to spare," he said. There were so many emotions running through Charles's mind that he had to steal a few moments for himself. That kiss to his cheek from Elsie had taken him by pleasant surprise, and he hoped he could speak to her, to find out if it had been a spur of the moment action or perhaps the beginning of something. He hoped it was the beginning of something more, for even out of the depths of despair, happiness can arise.

"I will be there shortly, Mr. Carson. I need to finish up a letter I was writing, and then I will join you for a chat." She patted his arm as he went to leave, followed by Tom and baby Sybil.

With a slightly happier heart, Elsie sat back down at her desk to finish the letter she was writing to her sister. If all went well with her meeting with Charles, she might have a bit of happier news to share in her next letter. Only time would tell …

The end.