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"Must be something awful interesting in them papers, Mr. Barrow!"Thomas flinched. He'd been sitting in the servant's hall for quite a while, reading -or staring- at yesterday's news. His face close to the letters, hidden against the ink; what else was he supposed to do? Sleeping hadn't been an option. Not on the eve of July 21st. He'd put on his livery at around four in the morning, avoiding the bathroom because there was no way he trusted himself with a razor today, and sat down in his seat at the head of the table.So deep in his thoughts Thomas was, that he hadn't noticed his colleagues slowly filling up the room, or Daisy approaching him with her heavy teapot. She always started with the young butler, then going counter clockwise. A few thank you's rang out as everyone received their morning tea."Hmm.." he replied, hoping she would leave it at that. But hoping had never brought him much."Well?" She insisted."What?""Only, you've been reading them since before we came down. I thought something mighty interesting must've happened."She sounded unsure, used to his prickly moods and unwanting to set him off.Thomas sighed. "Oh you know. This and that." He managed to force out and put the paper down. If luck was on his side, everyone would just go about their day without giving him much notice. Well everyone except Richard, of course. But he was still-A short gasp shook him out of his daydream. He made eye contact with the assistant cook, daring her to comment on his scruffy appearance. Daisy was a daring girl."I think you forgot something this morning, Thomas" she said, a bit apprehensively. Then she snorted. "It's quite funny, actually. I've known you for so long. But this is the first time I've seen you with a beard!"That (and perhaps him being called by his first name without him correcting her) garnered the attention of the others. The morning chatter died down and soon everyone was looking at his face. Thank you, Daisy.It wasn't even a beard, really. Just some light stubble, but clearly visible with his pale complexion and black hair. The staff of Downton abbey had always known Thomas to be impeccably groomed, clean and vain. So seeing anything likely to a beard on his face was akin to the circus coming to town. He'd known this would happen of course. Known he wouldn't be able to hide behind the papers the entire day. Thomas couldn't help silently cursing lord and lady Grantham for choosing the third anniversary of his suicide attempt to go out, taking their valet and lady's maid with them. God, he needed Richard and Phyllis. They were the only two he trusted to help him through the day, but wouldn't be home for a couple hours, probably.Mr Bates chose that moment to meddle in his private affairs. He wasn't officially working as valet anymore; five months ago a nasty slip on the icy road leading up to the castle had made it impossible for him to climb the abbey's stairs everyday.Upon hearing about this in one of their many letters, Richard Ellis promptly left his Majesty's service and applied for the job.He was a risk taker at heart, just showing up at the servant's doorstep. He had taken off his snow covered hat, looked Thomas up and down, and said "I heard about a job vacancy, Mr Barrow. Thought you might give me a chance. I'd say I've got some decent work experience."Thomas had needed to sit down after that, utterly overwhelmed. He'd protested a bit at first, of course. Things like Richard you can't just- what.. What about the pay?! What if you regret- Oh God I'm going to disappoint you and- How will I explain to his Lordship-But Lord Grantham had been delighted, luckily not asking too many questions. Telling everyone who wanted to hear that he was to have a Royal Valet, he readily accepted Thomas's excuse that "Mr Ellis wants to live closer to his parents and he got on perfectly well with our staff during the royal visit."Mr Bates had grumbled a bit about the whole thing, but Lord Grantham had assured him that Mr Barrow would find him some non-physical work to do. He would without a shadow of a doubt always be welcome at their servant's table.That's where he was sitting now, looking amused at Thomas's failure to be presentable. "This is a first for me too, I must say. Seems like our Mr Barrow missed his vocation as gangster in the pictures. Luckily for us his scheming days are over."This got a good laugh out of everyone, even saintly Anna let out a small chuckle before playfully slapping her husband on the arm. "Nothing ungenerous, Mr Bates." She chastised. He had said it in jest, Thomas knew. Since John Bates saved him from Jimmy and the police, they had begrudgingly started their ceasefire. Not that Bates had ever fired any shots. It was always Thomas waging a silent war.But there was still the odd comment, making small jokes about each other. That's what this was too. Just a joke, the butler told himself. But it stung, God did it sting. On any other day he would reply with his own witty remark, but right now he could only grimace and hope that it looked like a polite smile. For a moment he saw Bates brace himself for a sneer. Perhaps something about his bum leg, and having missed his vocation as pirate in the pictures. But it didn't come.He felt an oddly detached look appear on his own face; the look he sported exactly three years ago at this very table. The breakfast during which he decided that that would be his last day on earth. It felt like he was there all over again. Alarm bells started ringing in his head. Not good. Abort. Other thoughts. Other thoughts. Richard! Please I need Richard!He felt himself calm down a bit. In a couple of hours, Richard would come home, take one look at him and he would be safe. He would be held and listened to and loved. This was just a day like any other. He would get through this.The rest of the staff were still giggling amongst themselves. He thought he saw Bates's smile falter for a second. Saw him open his mouth to add something to his joke, maybe an apology, but he would never get the chance. Because Mrs Patmore chose that moment to waltz through the door, carrying a big stack of plates."What on earth is everyone snickering about in here? It's not even seven o'clock. Honestly, Mr Barrow! You don't seem to have much auth-"Mrs Patmore set the plates down rather forcefully and stared at the man sitting at the head of the table. The staff had gone quiet."Mr Barrow." She tutted disappointedly. "You missed a spot. A rather large one." More giggles from the younger staff."You haven't forgotten they're entertaining have you? I have spent ages on this dinner! For heaven's sake: If you haven't got enough time in the morning, don't stay up so late!"By the way she was speaking to him, you'd have thought he was a hallboy instead of the butler. She rolled her eyes and put her hand on her waist with an exasperated sigh."You don't have to look so glum about it. Get a move on! There's still enough time for a shave. I'll hold the fort in the meantime. We can manage a few minutes without the holy butler, thank you very much."Mrs Patmore retreated into the kitchen, snorting at her own comment.Thomas turned to Andy, the only person left who knew about his struggles. Who had visited him in the weeks after the attempt, when he was still too weak to even lift a knife and fork. (Not that they let him handle a knife)Andy gazed back, his eyebrows pulled up. He too, didn't seem to realize or remember the importance of July the 21st. He spoke softly."Well, go on then, Mr Barrow. We'll save some breakfast for you. I heard Mr Carson might visit this afternoon. He wouldn't want to see you so dishevelled."It was like the final nail in his coffin. Everyone was looking at him expectantly and he realised there was no getting out of this one. There was no one else he could rely on to come to his aid, with Mrs Hughes choosing to have breakfast at the cottage.He stood up. His chair made a scraping noise as it was pushed back. It sounded shrill in the otherwise silent room. As soon as his back was turned, he felt a sort of calm come over his colleagues. As if they expected Thomas to put up a fight or lash out, and were relieved that they were to have a quiet morning after all. The chatter started up again. He didn't wait around to hear what they were talking about; it was none of his business. He rounded the corner and dragged himself up the stairs to the attics, determined to complete the simple task of shaving his face.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"That'll be all for now Ellis. I will see you before dinner." Lord Grantham told Richard, who answered with a quick "Yes milord."Richard picked up the last suitcase out of the car and followed Ms Baxter to the servant's entrance. He was in a good mood; he'd had some time off in London and was excited to show Thomas the gift he had hidden in his valise. It was certainly not cheap, but Richard was fairly certain they would both enjoy it. It was money well spent and put Richard in a chipper state of mind.He was caught slightly off guard by Ms Baxter, who was unusually quiet during the car ride and was now hurrying across the gravel. Richard tried again to start up a conversation. "Honestly didn't expect to be back so early. Got a good few hours off to prepare for the guests tonight." He grinned. "You know there's always one or two that conveniently 'forgets' to bring a valet."All he got in response was a mumbled "Never mind that now, we will worry about that later."They had by now reached the servant's yard and made their way through the back door. "Oh no, you misunderstand. I'm not worried that- Are you quite alright?"They stepped in the servant's hall. He wasn't even listening if she gave an answer; he was way too busy trying to make eye contact with his Thomas who was.........not there.He opened his mouth to ask about it but Ms Baxter beat him to it."Where is Mr Barrow?" She asked airily. She sounded scared, which in turn started to worry Richard, who had initially thought the butler to be in his office. Maybe he was just using the restroom.The valet and lady's maid were met with a wave of welcomes and smiles. Mr Molesley rushed to their side with eager questions about their time in London and Anna took the suitcases from them with a warm smile. Richard tore his gaze from Ms Baxter to Anna and thanked her for helping."I asked where Mr Barrow is!" She repeated, her eyes wide and voice high. Richard was immediately alert at this second question. He was starting to put together that her stress in the car must have been about Thomas all along. He was missing something important and it made his heartbeat quicken. Ms Baxter was a good friend to Thomas.One evening, a little less than a year ago, in a dingy hotel room, he'd been whispered to in the dark. Thomas had used the night as a shield. That way he didn't have to look Richard in the eyes as he told a vague retelling of his life. Phyllis had appeared as a hero twice in the story. She had saved his life twice. He hadn't gone into detail that night. It wasn't until Richard was properly living at the abbey that the exact story of Thomas's numerous scars came to light. He had thanked Richard for being so patient, for not pushing and prodding. For waiting until he was ready."Oh there's nothing to worry about," Daisy piped up. "Only I suppose he stayed up too late so he had a bit of trouble getting ready this morning. The dummy forgot to shave, can you believe it! He went up about fifteen minutes ago to fix it, so no harm done."Richard, whose mind was already wandering but hadn't jumped to any conclusion yet felt a wave of panic wash over him at the word shave. What did Baxter know that he didn't? How had she known without being at the house for several days that today was a bad day? Thomas had been fine when he left. Absolutely fine. He sprang into action, rushing out of the servant's hall and into the stairwell. He was vaguely aware of Phyllis Baxter following close behind. His mind started racing while his feet carried him up the stairs. Had he not paid attention? Did he hurt Thomas in any way? God why are there so many stairs in this house!"Tell me what's happening. Now!," he demanded. "You were off in the car, you knew this would happen! Why?!""Mr Ellis, I thought you knew!" " Knew what?!"They were almost there. Only one more staircase and a hallway between them and the men's bathroom."It's been three years today. Three years exactly and I- he was probably trying to avoid that bathroom! They sent him straight to it!"The missing puzzle piece clicked into place. How could he be so stupid. He thought he knew everything there was to know. He knew what happened; how it happened; why it happened; who resqued him; but he had not thought to ask when. Had Thomas withheld the information on purpose? Or had it simply not come up?The pair ran through the hall and came to a halt in front of the bathroom door. Richard knocked on the door and loudly exclaimed, "Thomas, darling! Are you in there? It's me! I've got Ms Baxter here with me, will you please open the d-"But as Richard pushed down the door handle, he found it to be already unlocked. He braced himself and opened the door.Thomas was sat on the floor, back to the wall in the corner of the room. His elbows rested on his knees. He was just in his shirtsleeves and black trousers; his livery jacket hung neatly on the clothes horse. His sleeves were rolled up and in his right hand he clutched his still closed straight razor. He was holding it so tightly that his knuckles were white. Silent tears were streaming steadily down his face, down his clenched jaw. A few black strands hung over his forehead, as if he had raked his hand through his hair in frustration. He made no sound, but he looked devastated. There was no blood in sight. He didn't make to acknowledge them.Richard felt Phyllis rush past him, no doubt to embrace Thomas and confiscate the razor. He reflexively grabbed her arm and pulled her back behind him."Don't. You'll scare him. He doesn't want to be touched."He had taken one look at his love and knew that he was not completely with them. He was clearly having some kind of flashback or visualization. To jump him now, to pry the weapon out of his hands was a bad idea. He has to give it up himself, Richard thought. He'll drop it when he's good and ready. It has to be his choice, he can't stand being pushed.Trusting that the older woman had understood his message, he edged forward. He stopped about a meter from the traumatized man and knelt down. He spoke in a soft voice, the one he usually reserved for when they were entirely alone; tired after making love but not too tired to softly tell each other about their day."Darling, I'm here now. I'm home. There's no rush okay? We'll sit here until you're ready. You've had a shock, there's no shame in it. It'll pass, love, I promise." Thomas squeezed his eyes shut; the first movement since his friends came into the room. Richard couldn't see if he was listening or shutting them out. "Can you hear me? Could you show us you're listening? We're not going anywhere for now."He received a shaky nod, a pause and then another nod."Good, very good." Not a full blown flash back then. This would make things a bit easier."Now could you look at me, please? I need to see if it is okay for me to touch you."For a moment, nothing happened. There was no need to ask again, because the man in the corner had heard him and had not shaken his head no. He felt the lady's maid behind him observe with a confused curiosity. Not understanding what was passing between them, but trusting that the valet knew what he was doing. Then, after about ten seconds, Thomas lifted his face up and two pale blue eyes landed on Richard.They had a sort of pact like this; a code if you will, letting the other know a touch was welcome. A cue to give without having to do a lot of talking, which is always so hard when you're in a panic. It had taken a lot of trial and error to figure out a good way of communicating that worked for them. They only needed to make direct eye contact and call out for the other's na-""R-rich-Richard." He finally croaked out. The owner of the name let out a relieved sigh. Following his cue, he scooted the last meter across the floor towards the love of his life and wrapped him up in his arms. He carefully avoided the hand with the razor. He stroked the black hair back, kissed his now revealed forehead and cradled his face. He then pulled Thomas down to his chest and let his chin rest on the other's head. Ms Baxter didn't bat an eye at the show of affection, but did step further in the room and closed the door behind her. Some privacy was needed.A sound escaped the butlers lips, as if he thought the closed door would keep any and all sounds from reaching foreign ears.One sob became two, and then he was properly crying against his lover's chest. His shoulders were heaving with every pained, strangled cry he let out. He'd not cried like this in front of Richard yet. With so much sound. Had Ms Baxter seen him like this? He would have to ask later.For now, she calmly approached the pair. She copied her colleague and knelt on the floor beside them. She reached a hand out and put it lightly on Thomas's knee. When he did not shy away from her touch, the hand started softly stroking in a show of comfort."I'm here too, Thomas. You're not alone. You're going to be alright."The brown haired man saw how a gloved left hand moved slowly but determinedly towards his knee and grasped the stroking hand. He held it tightly. The three of them sat there for a few more minutes, until the loud cries became soft cries, and the soft cries became sniffles.Thomas had tired himself out completely, but had let himself be comforted. That was more important. Next step, Richard thought."Are you very tired, kitten?" A blush crept up Thomas's neck at being called all these pet names in front of someone. It did the trick, though.He grunted affirmatively. Perfect."How about... How about we go up to your room and you can have a lie down, would that be okay? It should be around half past seven now. I'm sure Andy and Mr Molesley can manage breakfast on their own. That way you can sleep for a bit and still serve luncheon, but only if you're up for it. And before you ask, I'll stay with you the entire time. How does that sound?"Thomas cleared his throat and took a deep, shuddering breath. "I should be down by now, I- I don't-... They'll talk." He settled on."I won't let them," Phyllis butted in. "I'll go down in a minute and do some damage control, spin them a story. If they gossip they'll have Mrs Hughes to answer to. She should be here any moment, if she isn't already. Is it okay if I tell her everything?"Another shakey breath followed by a curt nod.Richard made to stand up, helping Thomas stand as he did so. The other didn't move away so Richard assumed he wanted him close by. He laid his left hand on the small of his back and led him to the door. When he opened it he heard Ms Baxter behind him."Shouldn't we...." She trailed off. He glanced back and saw her standing, fiddling with her hands. She was glancing at the razor, now loosely held but still very much held by Thomas. The butler himself was still facing the door, deep in thought but not in a state of panic anymore.Richard shook his head. He willed her to read his mind, or at least trust his judgement. He's almost there. He'll give it to me in a moment. He is terrified of the thing; if we take it from him it will feel like it did three years ago. I want him to know that I trust him."I'm going to take him to his room now. Thank you for being his friend. And for loving him.""You too, Mr Ellis. You too."With that, the two men walked off, through the hallway and into Thomas's room. The door clicked closed behind them.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Thomas was ushered in his room and walked over to the small double bed he'd gifted himself with his new butler's salary some time ago. He sat down and closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. He heard Richard bustle about for a bit, closing the door, taking off his jacket and shoes, closing the curtains, putting on the soft light next to the bed. Next he felt a hand on his knee, and another on his ankle. He recognized the silent question and hummed in agreement. Richard got to work, doing what he does best. He took of a shoe, then the other one. For a moment Thomas felt him move away. He heard the closet door open, the shoes put down and felt the valets warm presence back before him, kneeling. His suspenders were pulled down his shoulders and he dutifully lifted his arms out of them. Expert hands undid his trousers and slid two thumbs in on the sides of his flanks. Once again Thomas did his part. He leant on his hands and lifted his bottom up for a moment, so that Richard could slide them down his legs and off his feet. Richard moved away a second time, to hang up the trousers.
The pressure between his hands and the mattress made him realize that he was still holding his razor.He opened his eyes and looked down at his right hand. It was curled in a loose fist around the shiny metal. He opened the fist up, letting the closed blade rest against his palm. His gaze lingered on the scar of his exposed wrist for a moment before looking up at Richard.
The latter was standing by the open wardrobe, watching and waiting with a soft gaze. At Thomas's glance he offered a smile. The tired man on the bed found that he was not yet capable of answering with a smile of his own; his facial muscles were slack, his eyes half lidded. But he was willing to offer him his trust. He slowly raised his arm, palm up and open, towards Richard. The razor wobbled a bit but stayed put. It glistened in the lamp light.
"Here," Thomas tried out his voice. It was hoarse from crying. "You'd better take this and put it away for a bit."Richard crossed the distance of the bedroom and sat down beside the butler. He lifted his hand, and to his surprise, did not immediately reach for the razor. He reached for Thomas's face instead, letting his thumb stroke over his cheekbone twice. Next he let the tip of his pointer finger slide down the slope of his nose, over his top lip before coming to rest on his bottom lip. He tapped it once.
"You're lovely."
Only then did he take the blade from his partner's hand and got up a third time to put it in a drawer. Thomas stared at his back, at his moving shoulder blade and the nape of his neck. A tiny lock of brown hair had curled up in the summer heat.
He could still feel tingles where Richard's fingers touched his face. He felt a warm feeling bloom up in his chest. That beautiful man.
He was so deep in thought; mind overloaded with contradicting emotions, that he didn't notice his shirtsleeves being taken off. Leaving him in just his underwear and shirt.
A yawn escaped him before he could hold it back. Thomas felt a warm hand guiding him down. When his head met the pillow he realized that his eyes were closed again. He barely registered his lover draping the thin sheet over him, tucking it under his chin in a way that brought him comfort. He'd never really thought about it. It was an unconscious move, but had apparently not gone unnoticed.
He worried sometimes that their relationship was based on inequality, that it shouldn't have started with having to be saved from a jail cell. How could someone even make up for that. He didn't do enough for Richard. One day he'll wake up and realize that he wasted his time on me, he thought. The idea frightened him, so he made a mental note to put in more effort. To thank him more often, ask how he's doing. Maybe buy him a gift. He likes flowers.The bed sank beside him. The dip of the mattress and creak of the bed springs shook him out of his thoughts. Richard was next to him on the bed, above the covers. He turned on his left side and held his head up with his left hand. Was he going to wait while Thomas napped?
Flowers. Thank him. Ask him how he's-
"How are you doing?", the tired man blurted out. He was answered with a rich, resounding laugh. It reassured him a bit. The laugh seemed to say, 'Leave it to Thomas Barrow to have a mental breakdown and then ask me how I'm doing!' But maybe he was just reading into things...
"I'm doing fine, all things considered. London was fun, but I'm happy to be back home. I've grown quite used to seeing you every day, Mr Barrow." They sometimes did that, playfully calling each other by their surnames. Doing it in front of their colleagues would occasionally even feel risqué. Exciting. Was that how Anna felt every time she referred to her husband as 'Mr Bates'? Thomas shuddered. What a horrifying thought. Richard went on.
"I sometimes found myself looking up to catch your eye, share a joke I'd thought of, only to realize you were two hundred miles away... Ms Baxter's nice and all, but I wouldn't have missed her like I missed you."
At that, he leaned forward a moment to lay a soft kiss on Thomas's ear. It tickled a bit, but in a nice way. When he leaned back he seemed to hesitate a moment before asking,
"And how are you doing?"Thomas fought the urge to simply answer with 'Shit.' No, he owed Richard an honest answer. He tried taking another look inside at the swirling mess of emotions, but there was too much of it. He was feeling everything, emotions that shouldn't even go together. They were tied up in knots, squirming to get free but instead getting stuck even more. He huffed in frustration. No answer would be good enough.
He tried to speak, to explain that in this moment he was the happiest he's ever been in his entire life, but that if he would be handed an open razor right now, he would not be able to stop himself from setting it against his wrist and slicing it up his inner forearm. He could see it vividly. The words were stuck in his throat. He probably looked like a very frustrated fish, opening and closing his mouth again and again.
Richard took pity on him after a minute of witnessing his struggle. "Can I suggest something, love?" Thomas nodded defeatedly.
"You look like you've barely slept last night. Ms Baxter told me about the significance of today, so it really is no wonder. I don't think physical exhaustion is usually very helpful when you're trying to analyse your feelings, so.... Maybe first some sleep and then talk."And so Thomas found himself tucked warmly in bed. Eyes shut, he waited for a while. It can't have been more than twenty minutes, but that's a long time for someone who has not slept and is utterly knackered. Thomas never had any sleep problems, not even in bloody Flanders. He adjusted his blanket a bit and waited another five minutes.
But sleep wouldn't come, his mind too full for it and his feelings too entwined to analyse and let go. His eyes moved restlessly behind his eyelids. They felt strained, annoyingly so. He willed them to relax.At least Richard would think he got some shut eye. And he was resting, technically. Only with a lot of thoughts whizzing about, but still.
He opened one eye slightly, looked up and found a set of dark blue eyes looking back. Richard smirked and closed one of his own eyes in a mock wink. The black haired man felt caught out and gave up sleep altogether.
"Can't bloody sleep." He grumbled, and wiped at his eyes."Hmm. That's normally my line."
It was true enough. The valet always took a bit longer to fall asleep. He often joked that Thomas's snoring was to blame, but the truth was actually that he'd been prone to nightmares since he was a small child. He wasn't afraid of monsters and ghosts anymore, of course, but the Great War had given his mind more than enough material to dream about. Still, he recently confided in his partner that it had improved since they'd began sharing a bed. Snoring be damned."Its just- I- My head's all scrambled! I have all these feelings but I can't separate them or understand them!"
"Do they have to be seperated?" "Yes!!" "Why?"
A pause.
"Because I don't want my love for you to be merged together with all that- all that rubbish."
Richard thought about this for a moment, then sat up a bit.
"Okay," he said. "Tell me about it then. Just one at a time. Tell me an emotion you're feeling and what brought it on."
The other man frowned, still on his side. He popped his left hand out of the blanket and rubbed at his temple in an attempt at self soothing.
"Why? What will it help?"
"It might help us figure out if there's any quick solutions to some of them, take away some of your worries."
Us, Thomas marveled. He was still getting used to being an us. He said it so casually, too. So proudly.He started talking and found that the words came to him easily. Maybe his fake sleep had done something, after all.
"I feel good things, positive emotions. Love... Not just for you, for Phyllis, for Mrs Hughes. The staff are treating me better than I rightly deserve, even Bates. I feel included because they let me in on their jokes. At the same time I feel overwhelmed. I sometimes feel the urge to push them away, test them to see if they'll stay or go. I feel grateful if they reach out.
I feel...scared of losing it again and knowing what I'm missing out on. I'm terrified of losing you." He made eye contact at this.
"I feel stupid for not being able to shave my face. I feel immense anger at Phyllis for rescuing me three years ago. For not letting me make the only good decision of my life, for interfering. I also feel...endlessly grateful that she saved me so I could meet you. I'm confused, because I don't actually want to die anymore! But sometimes my mind tricks itself in reliving the time I had no friends and was being thrown out on my ear. It's like I can feel the memory and my current happiness at the same time. But it doesn't bring me anything to grieve a workplace that I don't have to say goodbye to anymore. To pity myself for never being able to have a relationship, because that turned out to be false! Why do I do that to myself?" His voice had gotten progressively louder and higher. He took a few calming breaths and continued his monologue.Richard was listening attentively. He seemed to be making mental notes, his eyes sometimes flickering up and hand rubbing along his jaw.
"I'm embarrassed, because they saw me-"
He hesitated, but continued with a low voice. "Like that. In the bath. It makes me wish I'd chosen a different way of doing it. I didn't think about the implications. Having to walk around with scars peeking out from under my sleeve. It bothers me. I'm ashamed of them. Having them touched or seen. They hurt sometimes, but I'm not sure that the pain is real. Might be in my head, I don't know. But they get sore. I can't rub or massage them at work, because I don't want anyone to see, and... Well, when I'm alone with you I'd rather turn your attention to things I do like about my appearance." He pondered a moment and finished with, "That's about the gist of it, I believe. There's more but this is enough for now. What's your verdict?"Richard sat up fully now, coming to a cross-legged position with forearms resting on his open thighs.
"There's a lot to unpack. I think you understand yourself better than most people understand themselves. And it's all very logical how your individual feelings are caused. It seems to me, that the stress of it being today made them all fight for attention, causing them to get all jumbled up and felt simultaneously. You tried holding it off, going about your day, but were sent away on the one task that you had to avoid in order to keep them from bursting out. How's that?"
"Yes, It's...I think that's it."
"And," he went on, "I think you're mixing up your memories with your situation now. Would it help if I checked with you occasionally? Bring you back to the here and now?"
"I suppose it couldn't hurt to try." Thomas replied with as much enthusiasm as he could conjure up; it was pathetically little, and it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, but he knew Richard had seen the small smile playing at his lips.Richard leaned forward and used his lips to chase after the dimple on his cheek that had appeared for a second. He gave a short kiss there, letting his mouth ghost over his stubble for a moment more, before pulling away.
Thomas swallowed. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up at the feather light touches. 'More, more!!', they seemed to say.
"Could you hold me for a bit?"
A bit of shuffling and adjusting was needed, but Richard ended up on his back, his head resting on the pillow. Thomas was draped over his chest. His right ear pressed against his heart. The steady heartbeat was interrupted by a small gurgling sound coming from somewhere in Richard's intestines. A loose arm was wrapped around his back, stroking a soft pattern there."I do wonder about some of the other stuff. Is it okay if I..."
"Hmmm? Yeah go on then." Thomas mumbled. He would be okay with anything in this moment, just as long Richard didn't stop caressing his back like that. He barely managed to suppress a moan. The drowsiness was creeping up on him now, after baring his heart to the love of his life.
"You said you were having trouble with shaving. And while of course I will help you later today and every day in the future if you'd ask... I feel like that would defeat the point of you feeling stupid about it. So I thought, but tell me if it's a bad solution, I thought maybe a safety razor would help."Thomas blinked, holding off sleep for just a moment longer.
"Would you believe me if I told you that I had not thought about that at all? Feel like a right idiot now."
Richard assured him that finding simple solutions was not as simple when you're drowning in worries, and that he would ask Ms Baxter later to go into the village to purchase one."And lastly, you could have told me your wrists hurt, Thomas. It really is not necessary to distract me from it. My love for you doesn't end at your elbow.
So even if it is phantom pain, it might be a good idea for us to start massaging them in the evenings, moisturizing and loosening up the scar tissue. There's special gels and oils for it."There was that word again. Us.
"You mean, you plan on...touching it."
"I won't do anything you're not comfortable with, but if it's to spare me from being appalled, then that's another worry you can scrape off your list. Think on it for a while if you must, but buying some oils can't hurt, right?. "
Another item for Phyllis's shopping list, the sleepy man mused.Not long after, Thomas felt himself drift off. If Richard had anything more to say or ask, Thomas wouldn't be awake to hear it. His head was sufficiently cleared and there was nothing standing in the way anymore. He fell asleep.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A knock at the door pulled Richard out of his thoughts. He cast a quick glance back down, but saw that it had not woken up the man beside him. The man that most of their colleagues thought was his dear friend. Thomas had warned him when he started out his new job, that the staff were like vultures. They knew about him, some had known from the start, as if it were written all over his face.
Queer. Invert. Lavender. Sodomite.
Apparently Thomas's fear was, that they would instantly know about Richard as well. That they would put two and two together and so the pair should not act too friendly or familiar in public.
But somehow Mr Bates's replacement had avoided scrutiny from his new coworkers. He suspected they were blinded by the royalness of it all. Even though he was not the King himself, having cut his Majesty's toenails was enough to appear trustworthy.
That, or they cared less about their inversion than the butler convinced him of. He would expect Thomas to be glad of that. Relieved that they could get away with the affair under Lord Grantham's roof.
But he had been snappish with Richard when he'd breached the subject one evening. The valet's guess was that he saw it as a sort of affirmation; if Richard had been sussed out too, at least they would be the same. But apparently Richard was better than him, more normal. Less queer. How he'd convince his love that it was not the case without him running off on some made up errand, he was yet to figure out.Mr Barrow was not snappish now. He lay cocooned in his blanket, face relaxed, mouth slightly open. His pillow bore a tiny, wet spot of drool directly under his lips. Rhythmic snoring could be heard, just on the verge of being too loud to be called cute.
A second knock on the door. Right.
Richard got up to open it and found Phyllis Baxter on the other side. She was holding a tray with some light sandwiches and what could only be tonight's upstairs soup. Richard glanced back once, then stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.
"How've you managed that?" he asked, nodding at the soup. Ms Baxter answered with a question of her own.
"Should you leave him on his own like that? It doesn't sit right with me."
Richard put on his most reassuring smile and took the tray from the maid. It was quite light.
"Don't worry, he is fast asleep. And he's terrible at faking it, so I reckon we've got a few minutes. Even if he does wake up... Let's just say, he is not in crisis mode anymore. We had a good talk."Ms Baxter took his word for it but kept glancing at the door. She seemed to be listening for any movement inside.
"I told everyone downstairs that he had a turn and was taking a rest. If they didn't believe me, they at least accepted it as the 'official story'."
She frowned. "Well, maybe not Daisy. No one's ever told her what happened to Mr Barrow. She's feeling left out, asking questions."
"I see."
She then perked up a bit. "Mr Bates said something about taking over for you today. He insisted that he could manage the stairs. He's glad of the work. Anna wasn't happy but..."
"Maybe it's for the best," Richard agreed. "At least his Lordship gets to spend some time with his old friend. That'll cheer him right up."
He only hoped Mr Bates wouldn't go blabbing to their employer. If the upstairs lot thought their butler suffered from anything more than 'a funny turn' they were bound to start asking questions.
"Is there anything else I can do? Only, I feel so powerless. Seeing him like that." She looked ,for a moment, on the verge of crying, but pulled herself together.
"Yes, about that." Richard started.
"I was meaning to ask...Has he been like that before? The... Well, the wailing. I've never seen him like that. It's shaken me up a bit, if I'm honest." He saw a slight hesitation."Only once. After he woke up. We took turns sitting up with him, Mrs Hughes, Anna, Andy and myself. We didn't dare leave him alone for weeks. Not even for a second. The first days he was so weak from blood loss that he couldn't walk. And when he could walk again, he turned right grumpy if we'd stand near with our backs turned when he had to use the restroom. He was so angry that he forgot to be sad."
They shared a fond smile.
"That sounds like our Thomas." He got to the point: "Listen, there might be something you could help us with. Could you spare a moment later to buy some things in the village? A safety razor and some massage oil. For the scars!" He added as an afterthought. He didn't want her to make any assumptions about other uses for oil. She might know about the relationship, but Richard drew a line at awareness of intimacy. If she noticed him getting flustered, she didn't show it.
"Of course. I'm on it, Mr Ellis." She looked relieved at getting a task.
They said their goodbyes and Richard entered the room once more. He clicked the door closed as softly as he could with his hip, crossed the room to the bedside table and placed the tray there. He then lowered himself back on the bed. He winced at the creaking bedsprings.It was only when he'd settled in that he realized the snoring had stopped. Thomas was awake. He looked better; a bit sad but calm and rested, eyes no longer red.
"Ms Baxter was here just now. She brought you some food. I believe it's for upstairs, so I plan on stealing a couple of bites."
"What time is it?"
"It's just gone eleven o'clock."
Richard saw Thomas's eyes widen at that. He watched as the butler pushed back the sheet, suddenly in a hurry. Thomas stood up, took two strides towards his closet, and swayed dangerously on the spot. Richard sprang up. He caught the lovely fool in time and held him in place.
"Easy, easy. There's still time. First have a bite to eat, okay? You can't serve luncheon if you're going to faint over the table. We'll get you dressed and ready in a moment." he said.
The butler was plopped in the red chair next to the bedside table. A tray was planted on his lap. "Eat."
To Richard's relief, Thomas started eating the creamy shrimp and crab bisque. He mumbled between mouthfuls "Got up too quickly, saw black for a second."
Richard hummed. Yeah, that and the fact that you didn't have breakfast.
He felt his own stomach rumble uncomfortably, so he picked up one of the sandwiches and sat down on the bed.
"Are you feeling any better?" He asked after the first bite. It had some kind of cream cheese with smoked salmon on it. God that's good.
"I suppose. Bit embarrassed, but it'll pass. Not looking forward to going downstairs and seeing those gaping faces, though. Don't want their pity." They ate in silence for a while. The last bite of soup was saved for Richard who welcomed the spoonful heartily. They now each had one sandwich left which they savoured. Thomas broke the silence when the food was all gone."All things considered, this is not the worst July 21st."
Richard supposed that if he didn't want to talk about it, he wouldn't have brought it up. This was as good a time as any.
"What did you do the last two anniversaries?" he winced at his own wording. It didn't seem appropriate to describe marriage and suicide
with the same term. Thomas considered the question.
"The first went about as badly as you can imagine. She was there just in time; before I'd...done anything." At the word 'she', he gestured to the door with his head.
"It's why she knew so clearly that it was today. She probably marked it on her calendar. Annual Save Thomas Day. Surely put a big red circle 'round it as well." He said bitterly. If they'd been discussing anything else, Richard might have found his tone amusing.
"You can be cross all you like, but if she did I'll be forever grateful. If it weren't for her I'd have stayed downstairs. Eating porridge, while you were alone in that bathroom."
Thomas shot him an incredulous look.
"You mean you wouldn't have come looking if the butler was mysteriously absent the whole morning?"
"Well, of course I would. I'd have thought up a good excuse, but I wouldn't have known you were in danger. I wouldn't have hurried."
He felt himself choke up a bit, so he cleared his throat.
"I wasn't in danger, not really. 'S why I kept the damned thing closed. I knew that as long as it wasn't open, I wouldn't use it."
"But you were hurting! And every second you're hurting is one too much! If that isn't danger I don't know what is." It came out a bit more irritated than he planned. He sighed and rubbed his hands on his trousers before standing up and turning away from Thomas. It made his next words easier.
"And that's the thing, Thomas. I didn't know about today. Why didn't I know?" His voice broke at the question.He heard Thomas get up and walk over. He came to a stop right in front of Richard, invading his space and resting their foreheads together.
"Because I didn't tell you." He said softly.
"Yes. But also because I didn't think to ask. I feel badly. I hope you know it wasn't because I didn't care."
The other man put his hands against Richard's chest, which in turn drove the latter to take hold of Thomas's waist. He squeezed there to emphasise his point.
"Of course I know that, Rich. And it's fine. Truly. You already do so much for me, too much. Frankly, I don't know how to repay you for it."
"You do know you don't owe me anything, surely."
The butler leaned his head back just enough to make eye contact. "I..."
He looked down. "It feels like I need you more than the other way around, though. And that I don't show enough gratitude for your help. I've only given you...well love, I suppose. In my own way." He scoffed at himself."It's not a competition, sweetheart. I don't ask for anything more than your love. I wouldn't have walked out on the King of England if I was in need of lavish gifts."
The sweetheart in question snorted loudly. "He gave you lavish gifts, did he?"
"Well, I was working on it. I would've wooed him eventually." He teased.
In that moment, standing close together and breathing each other in, he felt a rush of need.
He lifted his left hand and held Thomas's face. He tucked four fingers behind his ear and ran his thumb over a stubbled cheek. Thomas's breath hitched; his eyes closed in anticipation.
Richard leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to his beau's. They moved together with practiced ease. Surely the earth stopped turning for a moment. Surely there was absolute silence everywhere on earth, except for their light intakes of breath and lips smacking with each little peck. Such a lovely mouth, Richard thought. It was full, soft and pink. Richard knew every inch of Thomas by now. He'd savoured their evenings together and explored eagerly. He'd first found out that his mouth was the exact same colour as his nipples. He'd been delighted to then find out that there were even more intimate places with the same shade of pink.
He pulled away reluctantly; this was not the time for that.They caught their breath for a moment. To Richard's surprise, Thomas wasn't finished with their conversation.
"Anyway," he started casually; though the flushed face showed his true feelings, "I'll tell you more about the first anniversary another time, okay? And as for the second.... You've probably figured that one out by now."
And with that, the pair had finally landed at the subject they'd been dancing around the entire morning. The valet didn't want to be the one to bring it up and he had assumed he wasn't the only one. But still, here they were.
"I have, yes. I realised when you were pretending to sleep."
"Then you can also understand why I kept it from you, about today."
"I have some assumptions, but maybe it would be better if you said it yourself." He braced himself for the truth.
"I didn't want it getting in the way of the more... positive anniversary."
Richard let out a deep breath and squeezed once more at his beau's waist. There we go.Because exactly one year ago, on the 21st of July 1927, King George V and Queen Mary had stepped foot in Downton Abbey, bringing along Richard Ellis, second valet to the King. They'd met exactly one year ago. Today was their first anniversary."I was going to find out eventually, you know that right?"
"Yes, but it wasn't supposed to be today. I wasn't exactly planning on any of this. I wanted a good, normal celebration of our first year together. "
"God, I just kept remembering more and more details about that visit. Here you were, tossing and turning next to me, and all I could think about was that you were pushed out again that day. You were struggling and they didn't think twice before roping in the old butler. How did you manage?!"
Thomas tried for a joking tone, "Well, I wasnt going to off myself with the King staying over. Could you imagine the scandal? I can see the papers now, 'Yorkshire butler takes his own life in front of King!' His lordship would never have gotten over the shame."
"I didn't think you cared so much about them."
"I didn't either, but maybe more that I knew. They gave me more chances than I deserved; they trusted me to be their new butler. That had to count for something."
Richard pressed on, "But Thomas, you got arrested."
"Yes.. And at the time I thought it to be a darkly humorous form of fate; not committing suicide, but still having my life ended on that day... But then you saved me. You waltzed in and changed my fate. You changed the meaning of July 21st; gave it a positive twist. And now we're here, one year later."
Richard pulled Thomas in a tight embrace and buried his face in the warmth of his neck. They would be alright. He was sure of it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Just close your eyes, okay? Don't look at it."The couple had gotten dressed in relative calm after their talk in Thomas's bedroom. The silence was only broken twice. The first was when the butler thanked his love for neatly hanging up his clothes before letting him fall asleep; Thomas would probably just have kept them on, making them wrinkled. Now he was once more impeccably dressed.The second time was when Richard not so subtly hinted that it was time for a shave, and because Ms Baxter had not yet come upstairs with a new safety razor, the old one would have to do.They'd made their way to the bathroom that Thomas had cried in only a few hours ago. The stubbled man had sat down on a low stool while Richard got to work; he swirled his damp, boar bristled brush over a small bowl of shaving soap after which he built a good lather in a separate shaving cup. Thomas had been lost in thought until he felt the brush move methodically over his face. Of course, Richard had waited until the last possible moment to get out the razor, but it was in full view now. Thomas had paled a bit, his breath quickening as his gaze locked in on the cursed item. He'd tried to play it off by clearing his throat and joking about getting the royal treatment, but he didn't get a laugh in return. He got a gentle command to close his eyes instead."Could you talk me through it? Tell me a story or something." he answered, while obeying and shutting out the sight of the metal blade.The sound of footsteps approached him. He felt a hand gently turn his face to the left for better access."Hmm, let me think... Ah! Did I ever tell you about the time I got expelled from school?" The first stroke of the blade ran down his cheek."What? No, I think I would remember such a good source of blackmail, Mr Ellis." he said teasingly."Well it wasn't that bad if you ask me. I was thirteen, and I'd realised that I wasn't quite- well the same as the others." Thomas hummed sympathetically at this; he had his fair share of panic as a boy. One day in church stood out in particular: when his pastor passionately spoke about the dangers of sodomy and cursed every homosexual to an eternity of hellfire.A second stroke together with Richard's voice kept him from reliving the memory."So I started overcompensating a bit, acting out, being a class clown. I figured it was better to distract them and be known as a troublemaker than as an invert." The strokes along his face continued, sometimes being interrupted by the rinsing of the razor."I wasn't a big menace, or anything. Mostly just made loud jokes and did imitations of the teachers. Whatever got the other kids laughing.But then one day, I was in the middle of impersonating Mr Waddingham, a large man with a big moustache. He was already ten minutes late, so I decided to help him out by teaching his lesson for him. I put a bulky sweater under my shirt to create a big belly and drew on the moustache with a piece of charcoal. I had just climbed on his desk to give everyone detention with a pompous voice, when the bugger walked in!"Richard turned his face to the right and continued shaving. Thomas found that he didn't mind it. He butted in, "So you got expelled then and there? In front of everybody?" He heard the valet chuckle."No, nothing like that. The headmaster wasn't in yet, so he put me on a chair in the hallway and told me to 'Not leave that chair under any circumstances, boy!'" Richard finished with a last few strokes above his lip, rinsed his face and fixed him up with aftershave."Anyhow, I was halfway home when they found me. I had scooted all the way out of the school and into the village to avoid punishment,chair still firmly under my backside. That was the final blow.""God, your father must have had your hide for that.""Not really." Richard replied smugly, "Turned out Mr Waddingham and my father were schoolboys together. He'd always hated the prick."Their dads couldn't have been more different if they tried. Nathaniel Barrow would have beat his son, even if he behaved like an angel."And your mum?""She was silent for a bit. Then she looked me up and down, smiled and just said: 'Well... You didn't leave the chair under any circumstances."Thomas surprised even himself with the laugh that spilled out of his mouth. He shook his head in disbelief."They did want an explanation, though. For why I was acting out." "And you told them the truth."Thomas was aware of Richard's relationship with his parents, and that they knew what their son was. But he hadn't known how it had come to pass."You're very lucky, d'you know that? And I can totally see you being a class clown, by the way. I guess I tried the exact opposite tactic, though. Just kept quiet and hoped they forgot I was there. Didn't want to provoke anyone into suggesting I was different. But somehow they still knew. My dad he-" he scoffed before continuing."He all but chased me out of the village with his shoe. Did give me a nice farewell beating though, in the street."The butler admired his clean shaven face in the mirror above the sink. Richard came to stand behind him in a loose embrace. They made eye contact through the looking glass."No one stopped him?" "Few women came running out of their house, begging him to see reason. Until he told them why he was beating me, that is. They scampered back inside after that." he explained matter-of-factly."I can never go back home. Suppose someone recognised me, I'd have the bobbies on me before I could say the word 'catamite'.""Do you wish you could?" Richard asked, pointedly ignoring the demeaning term."No. I'm happy here." He was surprised to find that he meant it."What did you do after?" Gosh, he's full of questions, today, isn't he?"Laid there in the street for a while. Saw him walk to the local pub to get drunk. So I limped back inside, packed some clothes. I stole some money and took my dad's favourite pocket watch. Then I got the hell out of there. From then on I wasn't quiet anymore. Had to fend for myself, didn't I. Had to bite back. But that didn't help either, in the end."The freshly shaved man refused to give in to a new wave of regret. He put on a (slightly forced) smile and announced,"Right. Enough of that. Let's go downstairs. I've got a luncheon to serve."And so, at three minutes to twelve, the couple stepped into the servant's hall. Except for the fact that they were very late, you wouldn't know anything was amiss. They looked neat and rested. There was more than enough time to get back into the swing of things and reestablish dominance, Thomas thought. His Lordship's valet had an impromptu day off, but he was sure Richard could make himself useful somehow. At least they were in time for the servant's luncheon. At noticing their butler enter the room, the staff got up. All the chairs scraped loudly over the stone floor. So far so good.After the failed breakfast, he saw it as today's second attempt at eating with the staff. The only difference was, that his two protectors now joined him at the table. He took his place at the head of the table and everyone followed back into their seat. Richard was next to Mrs Hughes on the right. Across from him, on Thomas's left, was Ms Baxter. She broke the ice by smiling warmly and saying,"Good to have you back, Mr Barrow. I hope you feel a bit better." A few mumbles around the table echoed the sentiment.Thomas was about to thank her and explain that everything was absolutely fine and that they could now all go about their usual day, when the assistant cook wobbled in with a pot of stew. She plopped it onto the table next to a plate of vegetables and wiped her hand on her apron. Ah, Thomas thought. The catalyst of all my troubles.It wasn't fair really; all Daisy had done was ask him why he was reading the papers so intently. Still, it was nice to blame someone. Old habits die hard."Good afternoon, Mr Barrow." she said. "I'm ever so sorry about this morning. If I'd known it would take you five hours to shave, I wouldn't have gone on and on about it, honest! I don't have a beard myself, so I'm not much of an expert."Mr Bates gave a tiny snort. Thomas waved her comment away and reached for the food, cueing the others to start loading their plates. But Daisy wasn't finished."Anyways, Ms Baxter told us you were taken ill. I hope your headache is gone now?" she asked in a suspiciously sweet tone."Yes, thank you Daisy. My head is much better, which means we're all going to continue our work just as-""AHA!" The young cook exclaimed self congratulatory and a bit crazed. The table fell silent once more. Mr Molesley had jumped at the shout and dropped his fork on his plate with a loud clang. Why is that idiot always here!? Shouldn't he be at the schoolhouse?"You all think I'm so stupid, don't you?" the girl sneered."Ms Baxter didn't say you had a headache. She said you had a stomach bug!"Thomas grimaced. He walked right into that one, didn't he? Daisy looked around the room with an expectant look on her face. When no one jumped up to spill Thomas's secrets, she ended her tirade with, "You're all hiding something from me and I won't have it anymore. You can find someone else to help cook that dinner!" And with that, she stomped back to the kitchen.There hung an awkward silence in the room, with none of the usual chatter. Did everyone just know then?Mrs Hughes placed a warm hand on his arm. When Thomas looked around, he was met with sympathetic smiles. He rolled his eyes and took a small bite of broccoli. It tasted like shit after his crab bisque. He put his fork down; he wasn't hungry so soon after his late breakfast.A low booming voice asked from behind his chair,"What's this I hear about you being taken ill, Mr Barrow?"
Oh no.
Oh. God. No.
He didn't need to turn around to know that Charles Carson had joined them in the room, no doubt to undermine him and try to kick him while he's down. The new butler turned around to greet the old butler with a wry smile that didn't quite reach his eyes."Hmm, you don't look ill to me. I hope you're not making a habit of taking the morning off." Mr Carson said sternly.Mrs Hughes tutted and rolled her eyes, seemingly having had enough of her husband already. She picked up her plate and another one she had made up for Mr Carson. She announced that they were going to eat in her office and to not wait up for them. Mr Carson trailed behind her, muttering all the way into the hallway about 'standards' and 'values'.The old couple left in their wake an awkward but not indifferent group of people. It triggered a sudden wave of agitation in Thomas."Will you people just eat! Please!" He shot out with a harsh tone. It did the trick, because everyone started eating meekly. Great. Now they were probably all regretting their kindness from a few minutes ago. The anger vanished as quickly as it had come.He looked in Phyllis's direction and received an encouraging nod from her. A quick glance at Richard found him giving a matching nod.He sighed."Look, I'm- sorry for yelling just now. This day has been stressful enough as it is and I just want to get on. I hope you can understand that."He felt a relaxed atmosphere spread through the servant's hall. His colleagues seemed impressed.The protectors on each side of him wore proud looks on their faces. Richard nudged Thomas's foot under the table."Don't mind him Mr Barrow, he's just an old grouch." a certain curly haired footman reassured him. A few giggles here and there; even Thomas joined in, but Anna wouldn't have it."Andy!" she chastised. "You can't say that about people!"Mr Bates took a sip of his tea. "Why not? I quite agree with Andy." He replied with a conspiratory smile. He looked over at Thomas, who found himself getting a third nod of encouragement.The rest of the servant's lunch went off without a hitch.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Ah Barrow! Just the man I wanted to see. I don't suppose you could spare a minute to step into the small Library?"Thomas looked up from where he was overseeing the dinner table being laid to see that his employer had entered the dining room. He shot a quick glance at his pocket watch, the only thing left from his life before service. It was thirteen minutes past two, which meant he had less than six hours to finish all the dinner preparations. It was to be an eight course meal. In recent years, the Edwardian ten course meal had dwindled down to a meagre five. The Dowager Countess and Mr Carson especially had grieved this development. This was purely a matter of principle for the old Lady though; she never took more than a few bites of every meal. Still, she would be happy to find out that Mr Barrow had forced his cook to squeeze out a special eight course meal for tonight. He only hoped Mrs Patmore would manage without her assistant. He couldn't handle both their wraths today, but that meant explaining everything to Daisy...The head cook had already loudly complained to him about taking care of luncheon by herself, but she did ask him his professional opinion on the upstairs soup she had sent up that morning. It was as close to an apology she knew how to give.The luncheon itself had been informal, with just Lord an Lady Grantham, Lord and Lady Hexham, and Mr Branson present. Apart from Robert Crawley's occasional worried glance in his direction, Thomas had managed serving them perfectly well. But it had apparently not fully soothed his Lordship, if he wanted a private word. He gave a quick "Certainly, Milord." And followed him to the small Library.The man of the house had stayed back while the guests, who had just arrived, took a stroll on the estate, lead by Lady Grantham.The dinner party consisted of the Dowager (who would arrive just before dinner was served), Lord and Lady Merton and Lady Mary (sans Mr Talbot), together with everyone who was there already. But they would be joined by a very special guest: Miss Sybbie Branson. She had recently turned eight, and was to make her official dining room debut, so Lady Grantham insisted on a special first dinner.Master George had been absolutely furious, crying hot, angry tears and demanding to be invited too. Thomas had needed almost an hour to console him and explain that his time would still come to graduate from the nursery. He would get a special dinner too.Lord Grantham closed the door to the small Library behind them. Thomas got ready to defend himself against the rumours Mr Bates had no doubt spread about his little 'breakdown' this morning."Sorry to pull you away from your work like that, Barrow. I'm sure you're very busy. But I wanted to ask if you were quite alright?""Milord?" Thomas asked with a frown. No scolding so far... Maybe he was building up to it."Well, I noticed you weren't at breakfast and next thing I know, Bates walks in to tell me that he is taking over from Ellis for today. Of course, I was pleasantly surprised about that, for old times sake, but it was unusual. He didn't seem to want to explain what brought this all on. He only gave me vague answers. I'm not used to that from him, so I hoped you could solve the mystery." Lord Grantham said, not unkindly.Well then. So Mr Bates hadn't spilled the beans. Odd."I'm very sorry about breakfast, Milord. It won't happen again, and we're working hard to get everything ready for tonight." Thomas answered, deflecting the first question about how he was doing."My, my! I must say, this is turning into quite the Saga, Barrow! I'm getting curiouser by the minute. Will you not tell me why you were absent this morning?"Thomas stared at a vase of Dahlias by the window. They were due a replacement. He weighed his options and came to a conclusion. Better to face an uncomfortable moment and get this over with; he wanted to get back to work. Besides, he didn't have to go into any detail."It has been three years today since my incident, Milord." Incident was the neat term they used upstairs to refer to his bloody bath. His Lordship's smile dropped."It is always a difficult time of year for me. I had a bit of a blip this morning, but I'm perfectly alright now. Mr Ellis and Ms Baxter were a great help."Just as expected of the upper class, Robert Crawley sought to make a quick but painless end to an awkward conversation."Forgive me, Barrow. I shouldn't have pried. Of course, you must get back to work. 'Get back on that horse', isn't that what they say?"Thomas nodded and hoped that was the end of it."But," here we go. "I don't want you to think I'm not sympathetic to your situation. If you need the evening off, I'm positive it could be arranged. This dinner is very important, as you surely know. Everything has to be perfect. I'm sure Carson would-""No!" Lord Grantham looked taken aback at being interrupted. God, I have to stop losing my temper."I'm sorry for snapping, Milord, but I have everything under control! Please don't let Mr Carson take over again. Miss Sybbie is important to me too. I want to do this. I'm perfectly capable." The old grouch, as Andy had called him, would have to pry the job from his cold dead hands before replacing him again.The older man considered his butler for a moment. He conceded."Very well, Barrow. You've convinced me. I'll see you at dinner."Thomas let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He thanked his Lordship, turned around and walked to the door. He was about to open it, when his boss called out once more."Wait." Thomas froze with his hand on the door handle. "Why was Ellis there?"The question didn't get through to Thomas at first. He retreated his hand from the door and turned around. "Milord?"The seventh Earl of Grantham took a few steps forward."You said... Just now, you said that Mr Ellis and Ms Baxter helped you this morning. I didn't know you were close? He's always talking my ear off about the comings and goings downstairs, but he's never mentioned you. I confess, I assumed he must dislike you. Then why would he be able to help with something so delicate?"Thomas felt the blood drain out of his face. It was all he could do to not stumble backwards.Shit. Bloody, buggering fuck."He- I-.... He was there by accident, Milord." he heard himself say, as if from far away."He came up with Ms Baxter to- to put away their valises when they found me. We're not...close, just- just cordial."He did not make direct eye contact at this, choosing instead to focus on his Lordship's lapel."Then why stay with you? Why have Bates take over? He wasn't even working here when it happened."The butler did look up at that. Lord Grantham wasn't born yesterday; he looked like he was well on his way to catching on to the illicit affair happening under his roof. What would be the first thing he would do if he found out his new valet was regularly sodomizing his butler in the attics? Would he fire Thomas on the spot? Would he call the police? The mad-house? Or would he skip all of this and pick up the fire poker to finish the job himself? Rid the world of another pervert.He racked his brain for another explanation."He...understands, your Lordship. Someone in his family also- he has experience with- That is, experience helping people."Thomas received a sceptical look. The seconds dragged on. It felt like an eternity before Lord Grantham opened his mouth to speak."I won't lie, Barrow. You've given me a lot to think about. I think it's time you went back to your dinner preparations now.""If that is all, Milord." Thomas forced out."Quite."Thomas fled the room before the other man would get the chance to call him back again.He passed the dining room and stuck his head in to do a quick check over. It was all as it should be. He rushed through the green baize door and down the stairs.He hadn't heard the end of this. Whatever Lord Grantham was planning on doing with him, at least it wouldn't be tonight. He wouldn't jeopardise Sybbie's dinner like that. Thomas tried to take a positive view; if it came to the worst, he would have time to flee. To take his few belongings and vanish like a thief in the night. He would lose his job. All of his newly made friends. His home. But at least he would have Richard. He was in as much danger as Thomas, after all.Through a faint haze of panic, the young butler decided on a course of action. He would first warn Richard, then send him up to pack (just in case) and then he would bring about the best dinner party Downton Abbey had seen since before the war. The Crawley's might care greatly about scandal, they cared just as much about tradition. And who knew: if he managed to impress the Dowager, who yearned deeply for the olden days, she might just pick his side, were an argument to ensue.Thomas reached the servant's hall and looked around for his partner (in crime). He found Richard in the kitchen, next to the red haired cook. He was standing at the big counter in the middle of the room, chopping up vegetables and putting them in a bowl. He looked up at Thomas and grinned, until he saw Thomas's face. What was it he found there? Fear? Dread?"Mr Ellis, a word please. In my office."He didn't wait for an answer. He just turned around and trusted the other would follow. He caught a quick glimpse at Daisy, who was sat in the corner, doing nothing. She glared back. Her shout followed them out of the room."Gone to share some more secrets, have you?!"The two men reached Thomas's office. Its owner closed and locked the door."What happened? Are you alright?" Richard asked. Thomas replied in a whisper; he did not think Daisy was above eavesdropping today."He knows. Lord Grantham. He knows.""About this morning?""About us, Richard." Thomas urged. "He was asking all these questions and I misspoke. He didn't say it outright, but I could see it in his eyes."The valet, who usually had a solution for everything, let out a string of curse words and raked a hand through his hair."What will he do about it? Are we fired?""I don't know! He told me to get back to work, but he said something about 'having to think about it'. He lied to the police for me once, but that was because he wanted me to win his bloody cricket match! And back then it was all a misunderstanding. There's no misunderstanding this, Rich. We've been living in sin, taking advantage of his trust! Anyhow, I don't think he'll do anything about it today. This dinner is way too important to cause a scene. And I somehow doubt he'll call the police. He doesn't believe in scandal."This seemed to placate Richard a bit. They had time.Thomas shared his plan."I think we should pack. Just in case. So that we are ready, whatever happens. And you'd better sleep in your own room tonight."Richard stepped into his space and placed the tiniest kiss on his lips. Just as with their kiss in Thomas's bedroom that morning, the earth came to a sudden halt and started turning again as soon as their faces moved apart."I think you are right."They discussed the plan in a bit more detail and decided that Richard would go upstairs to pack their 'emergency escape' valises. Thomas would go back to Mrs Patmore and replace his lover in the kitchen. They were missing an assistant cook, after all.The butler unlocked the door and they went their separate ways.
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Thomas stepped into the kitchen. He was jittery with nerves; the sword of Damocles hung over his head and he half expected the police to come running in any second. What would he do? How would he react? Would he go down fighting, screaming at the cook to warn Richard? Or would he go willingly, his hands up in surrender like the good little subordinate Lord Grantham thought he was. He couldn't help reflecting on the past twenty years. How had he been here for so long?He had arrived in 1908, when he was sixteen years old; fresh faced, but already broken. His father had made sure of that.After running away at fifteen, he had lived on the street for few months, travelling as far away from home as his feet would take him.He had been picked up by a gentleman, who turned out to be a little less gentle than he appeared. The man had seen the grimy, unwashed boy, pushing his greasy black hair out of his eyes and begging for money. When he saw the boy nastily push another street urchin to the ground and run off with his loot, he'd followed him into an alley, intrigued.'Thieving won't get you anywhere, kid', Thomas remembered the toff saying. He'd offered the little thief a home, a salary and proper training as a hallboy. He only wanted one thing in return. Thomas hadn't even realised he'd been taken advantage of. At the time he saw it as the perfect opportunity. He had welcomed the experience, including the sexual acts he had to perform as cost of living. They were his first sexual experiences and his employer had not been bad looking, so to Thomas it was the ultimate outcome. Unfortunately, the fortysomething year old Lord had not counted on the young boy being quite so eager, and had quickly gotten bored with the arrangement. It wasn't until the 'boy' was in his thirties that he realised his saviour preferred the company of unwilling teenage boys. He'd never told anyone about this, not even Richard. He somehow felt ashamed. It had therefore made him even more hopeless, when Mr Carson accused him of doing the same to young Andy. He would never.Still, he'd received a glowing reference and ended up at Downton Abbey as a properly trained hallboy at sixteen years old.Mrs Hughes had taken a shine to him at first, but his time on the street had made him ruthless; willing to sabotage and take down anyone to come up on top. When Ms O'Brien noticed this and took him under her wing, the housekeeper quickly gave up on him.Mr Carson didn't have anything to give up on, because he'd never trusted him to begin with. Thomas had made the butler uncomfortable from the start. He didn't understand what it was about him that was so easy to read.He'd only been taken on because of his reference and because he'd been personally put forward by the man who had taken his virginity; the pervert was an old school friend of Robert Crawley. The young butler had later been delighted to read about his demise in the papers. Apparently there was an ill investment that caused the house to be sold. Good riddance."Can I help?" Thomas asked Mrs Patmore. The little red curls on her forehead were damp with sweat. She was expertly dicing up seven shallots that were often used in salads and sauces. This was normally done by the assistant cook, but she was otherwise occupied; Daisy was very busy glaring daggers at Thomas's back.The cook motioned for the butler to take over with her onions, while she took care of more important developments in the oven. Thomas stared at the sharp knife for a moment. Beryl Patmore had definitely been told by one of their colleagues about his 'oopsie'.She had sent him fancy soup as an apology for sending him up to get rid of his stubble. Now he was here, just being offered the sharpest knives in the house as if it were nothing. He wasn't sure if it was trust or negligence. He ignored his punishing thoughts and got to work dicing up the shallots."Where is everyone?" he asked after a while. He needed to be on top of things, if this was to be his last dinner as butler of Downton Abbey.Mrs Patmore answered in her usual loud voice, "Ah! So you've decided to do your bit, Mr Barrow?" The large woman carried a pan of boiled eggs to the sink and drowned them in cold water. "Peel these, Thomas." He didn't make to correct her; just started peeling the eggs and discarding the hard shells. "I've already done my bit, Mrs Patmore. I would appreciate it if you told me what my staff is up to."And so the cook explained everyone's whereabouts."Mr Molesley's gone to the schoolhouse, but he promised he would be back to serve dinner." God bless Phyllis and the grip she has on that blithering idiot. They needed all the help they could get. Mrs Patmore went on, "Mr and Mrs Bates are in the boot room. They were having an argument, so I'd leave them be if I were you." Thomas grimaced. All disagreements seemed to be about him lately, so he would stay clear."Ms Baxter went into the village. She wouldn't say what she was up to, but she got right peeved when I asked..."Good, Thomas thought to himself. At least somebody in this house can keep adamned secret."Let's see, who else? Oh, I believe I heard Andy saying he'd check in on the silver. See if any of it needed another polish. He's going up to serve them tea in a bit. Mrs Hughes went up with the day maids to make up the guest bedrooms. And Daisy, well.."The cook snorted, clearly not taking the girl's strike seriously. This was not the first time Daisy had put down her ladle to throw a tantrum, after all. She was getting a bit old for it, though."Daisy's been a great help so far, haven't you?" The girl in question only huffed in response."Mr Carson's gone home then?" Thomas asked and moved on to his third egg. Happy days!Mr Carson had the terrible habit of forgetting that he no longer worked there. It would be easier to get through the dinner without his constant meddling; he was always moving things around in his office or giving out orders that Thomas would then have to rectify."Oh! I knew I forgot something! Mr Carson went into the cellar. He disagreed with some of your wine choices, apparently. He went down to get his Lordship's favourite Haut-Médoc." She pronounced the last word with an exaggerated Fench accent.Thomas only just managed to not crush the egg in his fist or throw it at the wall. He put it down gently, leaned on the counter with both hands and took a deep breath."You know what?" He started."Let him. He can choose the bloody wine. See if I care! At least he'll be out of my way during his little mission. He can stay in the cellar for the rest of the evening. I might just lock him in there!"He was being childish, he knew, but this day was shaping up to be one of the most stressful of his career."Hold your horses Mr Barrow!" Mrs Patmore laughed. "There are worse things in the world than receiving some unwanted help! What's got you in a tiff today, huh?"It wasn't out of her mouth for three seconds before her smile faltered. She shot a quick glance at Daisy and got back to work."Never mind." She muttered and walked to the refrigerator. She took out a big piece of dough and began rolling it out. A bit more forcefully than was needed.Her secretive glance had set off Daisy again."Oh, don't mind me! I know you all think I'm worth less than mud!"Right. This has gone on long enough.The butler-turned-kitchenmaid put the last peeled egg back into the pan and pushed it over to Mrs Patmore. He then turned to Daisy and challenged her glare."Daisy. Contrary to popular belief, I do not enjoy pulling rank." Mrs Patmore snorted. He didn't take it to heart; he usually enjoyed pulling rank very much."But in case I need to remind you, I am the butler. So you are going to get up off that stool-""I will not!" She cut in but he continued without interruption."-and you are helping us make this dinner right now or so help me I will walk up those stairs and tell Lord Grantham to dismiss you."Daisy fell silent. Mrs Patmore let out a low whistle. Now you've gone and awoken the beast, it seemed to say."You wouldn't..." she said, but it came out unsure."I would." He wouldn't, but a little white lie was hardly a sin. He knew all about sins.She thought about it for a couple of seconds, but eventually got up and walked over to her side of the counter. She reluctantly picked up the now flat slab of dough and lined a baking tin with it. It was going to be some sort of pie, Thomas supposed.He walked over to the corner where the stool stood and sat down in her place. No one spoke for a good two minutes. The women worked in silence while Thomas stared at his pocket watch. Quarter to three.He looked up at Daisy, who stood working with her back to him. She was doing her job, at least, but she was still angry. A quick decision was made. Before he could change his mind he broke the silence."If I tell you what everyone's been hiding from you, will you stop being cross?"Mrs Patmore's face snapped up, alert. At the same time Daisy whipped around to face him."Mr Barrow, I don't think that's a good idea.." The older woman said with a worried expression. Thomas rolled his eyes."It's my own business who I do or don't tell, Mrs Patmore. In fact, I don't remember ever telling you, so Daisy has as much right to hear. She's almost thirty. We don't have to protect her from the big, bad world." The cook didn't have anything to say to that. She went back to work, disapproving but clearly curious about what he was going to say. Thomas turned his attention back to the assistant cook."You must promise not to talk about this with anyone, do you understand? No blabbing in the village, not in the house, nowhere. I don't want to get thrown in gaol."The girl's eyes widened. "Did you kill somebody?" She whispered and had the nerve to look more excited than scared.The butler huffed a laugh. "What? No I didn't- What do you take me for? No! Look, just- promise me you'll keep it to yourself."She promised with a hand on her heart. She looked quite pleased with herself for getting her way."I will only tell you about it once and then never again. It's not to be repeated or discussed with any of the staff, even the ones who know. Gossip will be punished severely." He threw the last bit in for Mrs patmore, who looked a bit caught out.Right. Here goes nothing."Three years ago, today, I tried to commit suicide. Obviously I wasn't successful."Daisy stared at him with an open mouth. Whatever she had expected, it had clearly not been that. When Thomas had counted to a slow five and had not gotten a reaction, he explained further."I'm better now, and I won't do it again." I think. "But the day that it happened will probably always stay difficult. It brings up memories, you see. That's what happened this morning. I had to rest a bit, collect my thoughts, so I could get to work again."Thomas only hoped he still had work to get to after his Lordship had his little 'think'.Daisy shook herself out of her trance and looked questioningly at Mrs Patmore, as if she expected her to say it was all a big joke.When she didn't find an answer there she turned back to the black-haired man."But...Why?"Why not?"Well, I was... Sad... Very sad. And lonely. They were going to fire me. They already had, sort of. I thought it was for the best."The poor girl looked like she had a thousand questions and thoughts whirring around in her head. She seemed to decide they were all too invasive or pointless. Thomas could guess at some of them; How did you do it? Why didn't you just find another job? It doesn't sound like something you would do! I can't believe it! How did you survive? She settled on a simple, "I'm so sorry, Thomas.""It's alright.""No, it's not! I pushed you, didn't I! Forced you to tell me! Gosh, I probably made it even worse, being mean like that! If I'd known, I would have never-""But you couldn't have known, Daisy. It's okay, truly."He felt a bit guilty for making her so worried. Who would have thought she would still be worried about him after treating her badly for years. He felt like reassuring her."Besides, things are different now. I have-" Richard. "People around me. Friends. And I'm not getting fired now." I hope.She calmed down a bit and wiped her hands on her apron."Well, I'm glad, if that's the case. And I'm still very sorry. Will you let me know if there's anything I could do to help?"Thomas smiled despite himself. How on earth was a girl like Daisy going to help the likes of him? "Help?" He asked a bit sceptically."Only I'd like to think I'm one of those people, right? One of your friends?"Thomas felt a pang in his chest, almost like his heart clenched."I suppose, yes. If you want to be." He cursed his voice for coming out a bit wobbly."Then you'll tell me if there's anything I can do. Listen to you if you're sad or- I don't know, bake cookies or summat!"An idea occurred to him suddenly. He needed all the help he could get."There is something you could do for me, actually. Could you fix up one of those mini Lemon Meringue Tarts the old Lady is so fond of? I have a feeling I'm going to need her help with something. A little bribery goes a long way."Daisy gave him a determined nod, pleased at being trusted with one of his personal schemes."I'm on it, straight away, Thomas! That is- Mr Barrow."He thanked her and got up from the stool. He left the kitchen, his mood a bit brighter than before. With his newfound hope, he made straight for the cellar door.Time to boss old Carson around.
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"Honestly, papa, where is your head at today?" Lady Mary Talbot asked her father.They had filed into the drawing room after their walk, where Andrew, the first (and only) footman stood waiting to serve them tea. Tom had joked that he'd run into Molesley in the village a few days ago. When he found out about Sybbie's belated birthday dinner, the man had apparently been adamant that he would help out to serve to make it as special and large as possible. The schoolteacher made a habit of making a fool of himself, so Mary was rather looking forward to it; she had spent the last few weeks at Henry's London house and dinners were so dreadfully uneventful there.The walk had been a tedious one. The sun had shone with fervour and Edith seemed to see it as her personal calling to keep the conversation flowing. Her dark haired sister couldn't figure out which was the more annoying out of the two, but was relieved to be seated and served. She let go of her irritations. Lord knows she had enough practice over the years.She'd asked her father a rather simple question: what had he been up to while they were on their sweaty walk across the grounds.But he had been busy staring at the carpet, seemingly deep in thought. She had to call out to him twice before he'd shook out of his contemplation."Forgive me, dear. I was miles away. What is it you asked?"She'd mainly asked to be polite. She wasn't that curious, but now everyone was paying attention."May we know what your conundrum is about?" Cousin Isabel butted in. "Maybe we can help."Robert Crawley looked pained for a moment."Just a spot of trouble with Barrow, nothing to worry yourself about. I'll take care of it in the morning." He decided on.Mary dabbed lightly at her forehead with a silk handkerchief. It had her new initials embroidered on it, a wedding gift."Goodness, you make it sound so serious." She drawled. "I wouldn't want to be Barrow for the world. Do go soft on him, please. I can't stand the thought of George losing his favourite plaything. Where is he anyway? Andrew?"The footman standing to attention in the corner of the room turned visible to the family for a short moment to tell them that 'Mr Barrow was working hard to make sure everything was in order for tonight, so that the dinner party would run as smoothly as possible.'He sounded almost defensive. Strange.Mary thanked him and turned back to her tea. The conversation rolled smoothly on to other subjects and nothing more was said on the matter._______________________________________________________Downstairs, at the same time the family drank their tea, Richard Ellis stepped back into the servant's hall. He'd just finished packing all of the essentials for two adult men to live on the road for a while. Where would they go? A hotel to start with? Maybe in London. It was crowded there, they could blend in and slip underneath the radar. Richard knew his way around the city. They would be okay.He'd put the suitcases in Thomas's office, in the large cupboard behind the desk. The gift he'd bought Thomas in London was safely tucked in his overnight bag. It seemed like an eternity since he'd arrived that morning, excited and giddy to share the day with his partner. Spend their anniversary in peace. Peace had not found them yet. He traced his hands over the wooden chair at the head of the table. It was a bit taller and more intricate than the other chairs. How many butlers had sat in that spot? How many men had commanded the room with a stern voice, giving out orders?A slightly darker question crossed his mind.How many butlers were yet to come, before a great house like this stopped operating altogether? Was Thomas the last one? Or would there be more? How long would it take to replace him, were they to be sacked? Would the staff grieve over it, or would they move on quickly?"Mr Ellis! I'm glad I caught you." Phyllis Baxter entered the room. She had a light sheen of sweat on her brow, either from exertion or merely because of the July sun. She walked up to Richard. In her hand was a small, brown, paper bag. She held it out for him to take."I've brought those things you asked for." She spoke softly, in case a stray colleague jumped up from behind a chair to interrupt the private conversation. They were alone for now."I really appreciate it, Ms Baxter. I will pay you back, of course." He took the bag from her. The paper crinkled a bit.She shook her head. A tiny lock of brown hair came loose with the motion."Don't worry about it, Mr Ellis. Honestly. Mr Barrow's health and happiness is important to me. I'm only relieved that he'll accept your help. So, for what it's worth, I'm thankful that you've come to work here. Not many people would give up a job at Buckingham Palace for a lower paying job in the country."Richard felt a bit uncomfortable with her praise. He wondered if she would still be as thankful for him if she'd find out that coming here may have endangered Mr Barrow's livelihood. He debated telling her about the situation with Lord Grantham, but decided against it. She couldn't help them. Instead he kindly thanked her for her troubles."Would you at least consider calling me Richard, then? I think it's safe to say our feelings towards Thomas place us on the same side. I'd feel better if I could call you a friend."A wide smile broke out on her face. She looked delighted at the prospect."I would love that." She replied, and assured him that he, of course, must call her by her Christian name in return.It was a good feeling to have someone in their corner.Maybe telling her about his problem wasn't such a bad idea after all. She was the only one in the house who knew the true extent of their relationship. And she had her Ladyship's ear, didn't she? That had to count for something.It would have to wait though, because at that moment, a door opened somewhere further down the hallway. A male voice rang out."I understand that! You know I do. And I won't fight you on it any longer. But if it's your wish, you will have to bring it about yourself. I'm not going to tell him."Richard recognised the voice to belong to Mr Bates. He sounded a bit agitated, but mostly defeated. The closing of a door could be heard and seconds later the retired valet limped into the servant's hall, his wife in tow.So it had been a lover's tiff, Richard thought. I don't envy that.Thomas always got really bratty during arguments, lashing out and saying things he didn't mean. It was a hard habit to break after years of not letting anybody in, but there was progress. A lot of other people would have walked away, but Richard Ellis was a patient man. He was determined to convince Thomas of his dedication; he didn't love lightly.The pair seemed surprised to find Richard and Phyllis standing by the dining table, and perhaps a bit sheepish at realising they would have heard the tail bit of their heart-to-heart. Anna Bates stepped in front of her husband, getting to the point."Mr Ellis. I wondered if I could have a word." She began firmly. Had they been talking about him?His interest was peaked, so he gestured at her to go on."The thing is..." She looked around the room a bit, as if the right words were hanging somewhere in the air, ready to be plucked."Mr Bates is having more trouble with his leg than he's letting on. I know he offered to help you out, and while I think that's very kind of him, I think it a bad idea. Now, I've said that I'll let him dress his Lordship before dinner, but after that, I must insist that you take back over. Mr Barrow is up and walking again, so I don't see a reason for my husband to do even more damage to himself." The blond woman rambled. She huffed a sigh when she was done.Richard raised an eyebrow, torn between being amused at her stern tone and scared of having to face his employer. He locked eyes with John Bates over her shoulder. He looked sorry about the whole situation."I agree, Mrs Bates." He assured her. He put on his most charming smile. "I will dress him before bed, don't worry."Anna looked rather relieved at having it over and done with. She gave a tight lipped smile, paired with a short nod. She then turned around, kissed the man behind her on the cheek, and walked off. The click-clack of her heels could be heard on the floor long after she was out of sight.Mr Bates apologised and thanked him again, before walking (or rather limping) off as well. No doubt to find someone new to offer his everlasting services to.He wasn't gone five seconds, before another door slammed open somewhere in the distance.Richard felt a wave of annoyance at all the interruptions, until he heard a very familiar voice moving towards them."I don't care, Mr Carson. You've had your fun, but now it's time you stepped back and let me handle things. I've got it under control!"The handsome young man (thirty six was hardly ancient) swooped into the room. A whine bottle in each hand. They had a layer of dust and grime so thick, that the label was barely eligible. Thomas came across as surprisingly lighthearted, considering the day he'd had so far. It was probably because he held all the cards; Mr Carson was not his superior anymore.The large, spluttering man followed him, looking like he was ready to keel over from trepidation.Richard always felt a swoop of something, low in his stomach, when unexpectedly being faced with Thomas Barrow. It was as if his body needed to prepare first for laying eyes on the handsome butler, before he was truly able to handle it."Control?! You call this control?!" The angry man fired back. "First you take a random halfday when you know perfectly well they're entertaining. Then you-""I've told you twice in the last ten minutes that I won't have this morning discussed." Thomas interrupted him, turning around fiercely. All signs of his amusement from mere seconds ago were gone to be replaced by a fiery glare."Either you can accept that you're no longer in charge, Charles, and stop giving out orders to my staff, or you can leave this house and go home to your little vegetable garden!"Mr Carson balked at him, clearly not used to being spoken to in such an informal way. He gaped at his successor, as if seeing him for the first time. He closed his mouth and regained his composure."You're cold, Mr Barrow" he said with his booming bass.Thomas did not back down. His pink lips were pressed firmly together. He breathed in and out though his sharp nose and his pale eyes twinkled in the overhead lighting. He looked stunningly beautiful. Richard swallowed.After another thirty seconds of posturing, Mr Carson admitted his defeat."I will leave you to it." He said, bitterly, and turned around to leave."Good day, Mr Carson." Thomas told the retreating man.And then they were alone in the servant's hall, just the three of them.You could hear a pin drop. And then:"That...Felt. Bloody. Amazing." Thomas let out a big sigh and placed the wine bottles on the table."I've wanted to do that for twenty years, d'you know that."It was all Richard could do not to crowd the butler against the table and ravish him then and there; Ms Baxter'd had enough shocks for one day.When they first started using their half days to meet each other in secret, it had taken Thomas a while to find his bearings in the relationship. He'd been touch starved and denied for so long that being given everything he asked for had overwhelmed him greatly. Richard referred to it in his head as Thomas's second puberty, but he would never say it out loud, in fear of offending the man; just a few light caresses and a kiss behind his ear were enough to bring him to orgasm during those first few meetings. He'd been shy and embarrassed about it every time, apologising profusely and explaining how he'd become so repressed. It was incredibly endearing.But seeing him like this, laying down the law, being confident and commandeering, awoke a new sort of flame in the valet.He hadn't quite found his voice yet, when Phyllis shared her opinion."I only hope he doesn't go to his Lordship about it. I wouldn't want you to get in any trouble with him." She muttered.The two men glanced at each other then. They held a silent conversation.Should we tell her? Explain what happened?Maybe it would be best to have an ally for what's to come.It was Thomas who started explaining."The thing is, Phyllis- it might be too late for that. For both of us." It sounded more ominous than how Richard would have started off.The lady's maid was confused. She looked between the two men a few times.Richard took over."He knows why I left the Palace to come and work here. He knows we kept it from him, deliberately."Her eyes widened. "How?" She asked, gravely.Thomas scoffed. "Because I'm a big idiot? Because I wasn't thinking about my words before speaking them? I told him that Richard was the one that helped me get out of that state, this morning. And because Lord Grantham isn't a fool by any means, he put together that it meant he had stayed with me the entire time, afterwards. Because otherwise Bates wouldn't have had a reason to ignore his sad, crooked leg and take over for him." Thomas explained. This chat was quickly ruining his triumph over winning from Mr Carson, Richard could see.Phyllis didn't seem to fully grasp the severity of the situation, yet."But... That doesn't have to mean anything, though. Right? Friends help each other all the time. It wouldn't immediately mean there's anything more going on?"She checked over her shoulder to check they were still alone."It wouldn't, no," Richard continued. "If he thought us to be friends. But we agreed when I first came to work here, that it would be best if no one found out about us. Over the last few months, I may have carefully, but purposefully given him the idea that I don't like his butler..."Realisation dawned on her face."So to him," Thomas took over again, "It sounded like his inverted butler was suddenly being helped in the most intimate way, by someone he had hired himself, but who had made it subtly clear that they did not get on. It took him about three seconds to see through the ruse."Phyllis tried again to make light of the situation."Lord Grantham isn't prejudiced, though, is he? He's known about you for years. And he's helped you before, you've said so yourself! He talked to the police after that business with Jimmy."She glanced a bit hesitantly in Richard's direction, as if she wasn't sure if she'd just revealed a secret. Richard gave a reassuring smile to let her know that he knew all about it.Thomas sounded flat and emotionless in his response."He's not necessarily the biggest denouncer against homosexuality, no. I think we amuse him, somehow. Like a person might visit the circus to watch a bearded woman, for him to then go home, relieved that she is not his mother. He is not completely appalled by the vague concept; Lord knows what those Eaton boys get up to when they're sixteen without a girl in sight. But he's also very particular about trust. He won't like that we tried to pull one over on him. I've had my fair share of scoldings in the past, but I wasn't the highest ranking servant then. I suspect he thought me harmless. But now that I'm the one hiring new servants- Well, let's just say... In that moment, through his eyes, it probably looked like I was planning on starting a private brothel in his house.""Don't be silly!" She replied with a smile.Something did flash over Thomas's face then. Richard couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but it made his heart clench in sympathy.The lady's maid, too, seemed to acknowledge something and gave a soft apology. Thomas waved it away."Anyhow, we've packed our belongings just in case we need to make a run for it. We thought you should know. I don't want you to be left behind with questions if we're gone without warning." The butler changed the silent subject.Phyllis faltered at that."Don't you think that's a bit hasty?" She asked carefully, not wanting to downplay his feelings any further.To be fair, the thought had crossed Richard's mind as well. He wasn't there for the conversation, so he wasn't rightly sure if Thomas was reading into things, or if they were truly at risk of incarceration. But the man was clearly more traumatised by his arrest precisely one year ago than he was letting on; Thomas was so intensely frightened by the police that even crossing an officer on the street was enough to make him physically ill. Richard had found that out the hard way on one of their evening walks, when Thomas vomited in a bush after being politely greeted by the local constable.If they were detained together, there would be no Richard Ellis to bust him out of gaol. So in the end, he'd chosen to trust his sweetheart's judgement.Thomas looked at Richard for help."Better safe than sorry." He argued. It seemed to convince the woman in front of him."Right." The butler was clearly itching to get away, before anything more was revealed on the matter; Phyllis wasn't aware of that particular adventure. "Three more hours until the dressing gong. I'll be in my office, decanting his Lordship's favourite wine and trying not to pour it all down my own throat." He joked darkly.He received two distressed looks for that comment, but assured them that he would be alright.Richard handed him the brown bag he was still holding, before Thomas could walk away."Here, put these in with the other stuff. It's the things we talked about, this morning. Phyllis bought them in the village. The valises are hidden in the cupboard behind your desk."A few emotions shot across Thomas's features; surprise at Richard apparently being on a first name basis with the Lady's maid; confusion at trying to recall what items they had talked about that morning; and finally, a deep gratitude for having such thoughtful friends.He thanked them with a quiver in his voice, before walking away in the direction of his office.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"May I come in?"
Thomas looked up from where he was seated at his desk. He'd taken his sweet time decanting a plethora of wine bottles for tonight. He'd childishly carried the carafes up to the dining room one by one, to make the time pass more quickly. But even he had to admit that it wouldn't make any difference. He'd next checked in on the kitchen, where everything was going smoothly. Daisy was obviously trying to make up for lost time, swishing around the room with heavy pots and pans wobbling dangerously, but never dropping anything. Thomas had sneakily picked up a mini potato croquette and popped it into his mouth, before being chased out of the kitchen by a red faced Mrs Patmore.
Then he'd brought up the last hysteric detail for on the dinner table: a large silver ship that was to be tonight's centrepiece, complete with golden detailing and semi-precious stones. It was usually only meant for big party's with high ranking guests, so that they had something to talk about when conversation died down or got too heated. But little miss Sybbie had been absolutely delighted to find out that Thomas, too, had sailed to America on a giant commercial ship. Just like she had when she was 'very little'. The pièce de résistance was the butler's personal touch to her special evening.He'd finally ended up retreating back into his office, waiting and staring at the clock. It was ticking jauntily, in a happy, unchanging pattern. The absolute silence in the rest of the office made it to Thomas all the more menacing, as if it was taunting him with every second he spent unsure of his future in the house. He was pretty much hiding at this point, wondering if he should have done everything differently.
He therefore had not heard Mrs Hughes's several knocks and had completely missed her entering the room until she'd clicked the door closed behind her."Yes, of course." He answered about five seconds later than was natural. "Can I help you?"
She gave him a look that he couldn't immediately decipher.
"It's ten minutes to seven. I came to check that you were ready to ring the dressing gong. I'm sure you've got everything under control, but I wouldn't blame you if you needed some help today." She explained.
For someone who was constantly listening to the ticking of the clock, he had been very unaware of the passing time.
"It's quite alright, Mrs Hughes." He said. "To be completely honest, I had forgotten. So the assumption was a welcome one, at least for today."
The housekeeper raised her eyebrows. Had she been expecting him to bite her head off over this? He needed to work on his tone a bit more, if that was the case.
"Is everything ready in the guest rooms?" He asked her. She nodded affirmatively.
"Everything is in shipshape order. The day maids have just gone home, and Anna is upstairs right now, dressing miss Sybbie for the first time. She wanted to start a bit earlier, so that she would have enough time for Lady Mary."
"Good. That's good. That's- Yes, what I said." He stopped himself before he could say it a third time and got up from his chair.Mrs Hughes stepped a bit closer so that she could lay her hand on his upper arm.
"Are you alright Thomas? It's only a dinner party." She reminded him. Her motherly tone always succeeded in making Thomas feel like he was twelve again. Not that his own mother had been an expert at caring for him before she'd died.
"Yes I- Only, I wanted to say that-" He struggled a bit to find the right words. "That I'm very grateful for your help, and that I'm very sorry if I've ever dissapointed you." He felt the corners of his mouth pull down a bit and a single salty tear run down his face. He wiped it away with the back of his right hand. Mrs Hughes looked bewildered at the sudden confession.
"Heavens, what's brought this on, hmm?" She soothed. "Is it because of today?"
Thomas sniffed and shook his head. Well, it technically was because of today, but not in the way she thought; he'd never found the right time to apologise for his younger years, and he wasn't sure if he would have any more chances after today. Was he going to lose her too?"What has got you so upset then? And you don't need to apologise, you silly man!" She rubbed her hand soothingly over his arm.
Thomas smiled a bit through his tears. Mrs Hughes managed to call him silly without it feeling like an insult.
"I do appreciate it, Thomas. But does this by any chance have anything to do with Mr Ellis?" She had never sounded more cautious.
Thomas froze.What?!
She knows?!How many mini heart attacks could his body handle in one day before collapsing entirely?
"What?" He managed, but it sounded weak to his own ears.
Mrs Hughes smiled sadly.
"You've been different since he came to work here. I haven't seen you do your job with so much enthusiasm since.. Well, since James.."
She said the name carefully, as if it would set off a tidal wave of emotion in the young butler.
"You have a certain air about you when you get fond of someone." She explained innocently, as if Thomas's sort did nothing more than hold hands and send each other the occasional smile.
"I figured he must have given you some sign that your feelings are not returned." She finished lamely.
Oh.
Oh, right.
She doesn't know that I'm in a happy relationship. She just knows I'm a tart that lusts after any handsome man that I come across.
He silently chastised himself for projecting his self-image on the housekeeper. She'd been nothing but kind to him, after all.
He shook his head.
"It's nothing like that, Mrs Hughes. I promise. I just wanted to thank you for not giving up on me, that's all." He said with feigned confidence.
Mrs Hughes looked back with scepticism, but relented.
"Well, if you promise... And you don't have to worry about me giving up on anyone, Thomas. Least of all you." She wiped away a final stray tear off his cheek and stepped back.
"Now, on you get, Mr Barrow. That gong isn't going to ring itself!"_______________________________________________________Upstairs, in Robert Crawley's dressing room, John Bates was putting away a day suit and laying out a dark blue dressing gown in preparation for its owner's return after dinner.
Getting dressed had been a quiet business. Robert felt a bit guilty for not engaging his old friend in conversation. He would have normally asked after his two year old son; apparently he'd gotten quite big in recent months, if the Abbey's Nanny was to be believed.
But Robert's heart was not in it today. He was on the cusp of making a very difficult decision. He didn't have the headspace to make small talk. It occurred to him that he was annoyed, on top of everything, that this whole situation had to go down today of all days.
This dinner had to be perfect for his granddaughter. He didn't want to ruin it with a foul or distracted mood.
It wasn't until he was fully dressed and ready to go that he impulsively called back his old valet, who was already halfway out of the door."Bates?" He asked. The man in question turned back.
"Yes, Milord?"
Robert sighed.
"I'm sorry for being so distracted today. It's nothing to do with you." He told his Comrade in Arms.
"Of course, Milord. It's perfectly alright. Is there anything I can help with?"
Robert rubbed a hand over his jaw. He weighed the pros and cons of involving anyone in his decision. Bates was trustworthy, certainly. And a well known confidant to the earl. But he didn't feel comfortable outright accusing Barrow in front of his (ex) colleague. He decided on a compromise.
"Bates, if... If Carson had ever hired someone for his personal gain without telling me, and by doing so put the family at risk... What would I have done?" He asked with his back turned to the other man.
Bates didn't immediately answer. He always chose his advice carefully. It was one of the things that Robert admired about his old friend.
"I'd like to think that you would have talked to him about it, Milord." He started after a moment. "That you would have gotten to the bottom of it, and not made any assumptions. Maybe Mr Carson hired that person for a good reason."
Robert smiled to himself.
"Yes. Yes, I think you're right. I would have.."
"So there's your answer then, Milord." The voice behind him said. "But..." Robert detected a slight hesitation.
"Is this really Mr Carson we're talking about... Or someone else?"
Robert turned around. Mr Bates was looking at him directly. He leaned heavily on his cane, but his expression was one of absolute comprehension."So you know." Was all Robert replied. Bates shrugged and smiled.
"I didn't know anything, Milord. Sure, I had an inkling; for a man that came here to be close to his family, Mr Ellis visits them surprisingly little. He's gone there exactly once. And you know how Mr Barrow gets when a dapper man walks by; having one close by at the breakfast table only enhances the effect. They do keep their distance downstairs, so my observations were only suspicions really. But you've just confirmed them, Milord."
For a short second Robert thought he heard what was a certain tone in his voice, but it was gone too quickly to interpret.
The earl ignored the notion of having unmasked Barrow to him and asked instead, "So they haven't been causing trouble downstairs? Making anyone uncomfortable?"
"No milord, not me at least." Bates answered firmly.
The two men looked at each other in silence for a moment more.
"Very well, then." Robert concluded. "I'll give them the benefit of the doubt for now. I don't want to spoil the evening. And I'll call them into the small Library tomorrow morning. Give them a chance to explain. Before- that is.. Before I make a decision.""I'm sure you'll make the good one, Milord."
And with that, the valet left the room._______________________________________________________At the same time, on the other side of the house, Anna clasped a beaded necklace in place. It was the finishing touch to Mary's dark red outfit. She admired herself in the mirror, turning her head to see her face from every angle. Perfect.
"I remember my first time dining with the family." She said. Seeing a new generation grow up always made her terribly nostalgic.
"There was this odious Lord thingamajig that kept trying to offer me cognac. I was ten." She made eye contact with Anna through the mirror. They shared a giggle.
"Well, I'm sure it won't come to that tonight, Milady." Anna reassured. "Mr Barrow made sure there's only light juices and lemonade being served to miss Sybbie. But she'll be having them in the usual wine glasses, so she'll feel included."
"Golly! The man thinks of everything, doesn't he. At least where the children are concerned. I only hope he'll still be around to organise George's first proper dinner."
Anna looked a bit puzzled at that.
"Why wouldn't he be, Milady?" She asked, and adjusted the necklace so that it was more centered.
Mary made a dismissive gesture.
"I don't know, really. I had the feeling he'd done something to upset papa. He was awfully deep in thought after luncheon. It had to do with Barrow, but he wouldn't say what it was about. It's probably nothing."
Mary was about to let it go, but she saw Anna frown before pulling on a neat servant's blank."You know something." The brunette said, conspiratorially.
Anna seemed torn between sharing her thoughts and respecting her colleague's privacy. She gave in.
"I don't know anything about this necessarily, Milady. And I wouldn't tell you if I wasn't worried about him... But do you remember that business with Mr Barrow a few years ago?" She asked, while fidgeting with her hands.
"What business?" Mary replied, and opened a little jar of hand cream. She looked expectantly at the blond woman behind her while methodically rubbing the cream in her skin. Anna looked back gravely. The penny dropped.
"Oh. That... What about it?" She tried not to sound too curious.
"Well apparently it was three years ago today that it- happened, you see. And this morning he had a bit of a fit. I overheard Ms Baxter talk about it with Mrs Hughes. So I'm sure that if Mr Barrow spoke out of turn, or was harsh to his Lordship, it was only because he's under a lot of stress. Please don't let him be too hard on him. He's trying very hard to be better."Mary felt her eyes widening.
"Goodness! Well, we can't have that. Don't worry, Anna. I'm rather fond of Barrow, in my own contrary way. I'll take care of this."
And with that, she closed the tin of cream and stood up to go downstairs for dinner.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Miss Sybil Branson." Thomas announced, and stepped aside.Several exclamations of delight and admiration were heard across the room. Isobel Crawley even gave a little applause.The family had been seated first, so that their special guest could make a princess worthy entrance. And what an entrance it was.The newly eight year old stepped into the dining room, unusually shy, but also secretly pleased at being the centre of attention. Thomas had learned to read her emotions better than anyone, (except maybe her father) and was so often reminded of Lady Sybil these days, that he'd had to swallow away a lump in his throat once or twice.Miss Sybbie wore a frock of dark emerald, complete with golden embroidery across the neckline, and little green beads down each sleeve.She beamed up at the adults in the room and was softly directed to the empty chair. Thomas gave her a hand as she clambered up and pushed the chair further towards the table as soon as she was seated.They were a party of ten, with on one side of the long table Lady Edith, Lord Grantham, the Dowager Countess and Lady Merton. They were sat across from respectively Lady Mary, Lady Grantham, Miss Sybbie and Tom Branson. Lord Hexham and Lord Merton were seated at the head and foot of the table.The adults had already had their Hors d'Oeuvre in the drawing room, accompanied by cocktails, that even the old Lady was getting used to.Will wonders never cease, Thomas thought.Now that everyone was present and calmly talking amongst themselves, Thomas motioned for Andy to start serving out the second course. The butler was pleased to see that it was the creamy crab bisque he had gobbled up that morning. He bet his right foot that he had enjoyed it more; sitting hunched over in his chair and lapping it up, instead of the tiny, polite sips his employers were taking.He zoned out for a bit. Hid skillfully behind his servant's blank, he could let his thoughts wander while still being alert enough to see if glasses needed filling. The third course was a light fish; Coconut Dill poached cod. Thomas was halfway through filling up Lord Grantham's wine glass, when the Dowager suddenly acknowledged his presence."I must say Barrow, it might have been a decade since I've seen this piece being put on display." She spoke in her wobbly voice, and gestured to the silver ship."I'm certainly not complaining, but what on earth possessed you to get it out?"The young butler finished pouring and spoke in a soft voice."Miss Sybbie is very fond of ships, Milady. She wishes to travel the world, so I thought it would be symbolic for her new phase of life."He smiled at the girl on the other side of the table, who was perfectly imitating the posh Lady Mary and taking a dainty sip of her 'wine'.Tom Branson looked confusedly amused."I didn't know that, Darlin'?" He spoke in his Irish lilt, while he pushed a soft, brown lock of hair out of her face and behind her ear.Sybbie took a rather large bite of her fish and swallowed it neatly, before speaking."Mr Barrow and I were on the same ship to America." She stated matter-of-factly and took another bite. A bit smaller this time.Thomas went around the table to fill up Branson's glass.Lord Grantham laughed heartily. He was in an oddly jolly mood for someone who was considering firing his butler and valet in one fell swoop. It gave Thomas whiplash; had he imagined everything? Had Phyllis been right to say it was hasty to pack all of their belongings and flee before the sun would rise? Maybe his senses had left him. Maybe his little run in with the police had broken his judgement skills."I should hope not!" His Lordship joked.No one seemed to grasp the joke except for Thomas and Lady Grantham; he'd seen the trip as the perfect opportunity to fully experience the joys of The New World, and had taken wild advantage of his time on the ship and in America as a whole.His employer had known about his exploits, as Thomas had afterwards overheard him speaking to his wife about it. Lord Grantham had referred numerously to Thomas and 'the muscled sailors on deck'. It was all a big joke to him.Thomas had ignored the comments at the time, but he did not appreciate it being brought up in company."Why?" Sybbie asked, not sensing the unease in part of the room. Lady Grantham came to the rescue."Sweetheart, all Donk means to say is that you and Barrow couldn't have been on the same ship. He went to America with your grandfather in 1922. That was three years before you were there." She explained.Sybbie thought about this for a second and took another small sip."It might have still been the same ship. Just sailing on a different day." She said.Lady Grantham was taken aback, and then smiled to herself. "Yes. I suppose that's true, isn't it?""Well, I think it's marvellous!" Lady Merton added. "It really is a beautiful piece, well done Barrow!"With that the conversation ended and Thomas blended back into the wall.It was during the sixth course, that Thomas put his little scheme in action. It wasn't a scheme in so many words (young Thomas would have scoffed at it) but old Thomas was grasping at straws at this point.A palate cleanser was served; a light scoop of lemon sorbet, garnished with mint and a glass of Champagne on the side. Molesley and Andy moved around the room, placing the tiny plates in front of the members of the Crawley family.Thomas himself carried only one plate, which he smoothly placed in front of old Lady Grantham. On it was a singular mini Lemon Meringue Tart, with yellow citrus filling and three tiny, white toofs decorating the top.Thomas was not even stood upright before she whispered, "Colour me intrigued, Barrow." The butler, servant's blank firmly in place answered softly."It has been a while since your Ladyship has dined at the Abbey. It was the assistant cook's idea; Daisy. She made it for you especially, Milady."He got up and did another round with his carafe, mainly finding the men's glasses empty. He shot a quick gesture to Molesley, who was in charge of keeping Miss Sybbies glass filled. The girl thanked him loudly upon receiving her lemonade, as she had done with every glass so far.Lord Grantham observed his granddaughter with a proud smile."There really is no need to thank the servants for every glass Sybbie." He explained warmly, and took a gulp of Champagne."I don't know!" Lady Edith butted in from the corner. "Maybe we should! I think it's very nice of-""Granny!" Lady Mary interrupted her sister obtrusively. The blond woman across from her shot her an annoyed glare.Lady Mary didn't seem to notice or care in the slightest. She was looking directly at her grandmothers atypical palate cleanser."If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a secret admirer!" She drawled. "Barrow? Where is my Lemon Tart?"All eyes were on him."It's Daisy's specialty, Milady. She insisted on making one when she heard her Ladyship would be present for the dinner." He lied, easily."I'm afraid there are no more, but I will make sure she makes more tomorrow.""See that you do." She said curtly, and turned away to her mother, continuing their conversation.He risked a look towards Lord Grantham and found him observing Thomas warily. The butler retreated to the wall.The main heavy course was a roast, served with plenty of vegetables. This was usually the part of the evening that the Dowager started only picking at her food. Thomas saw how Sybbie supressed a yawn, once or twice, determined to see the evening through. She looked around a bit, checking if anyone had noticed. It appeared she was scared that a small yawn would be reason enough to be dismissed back to the nursery. The butler caught her eye and tried to convey in his expression that she needn't worry.Mere moments later, the man of the house called for attention. He stood up with a big smile and raised his glass. "I won't take long, people, don't worry." He addressed his family. "I merely want to propose a toast to my wonderful granddaughter."Thomas watched how the others raised their glass. Sybbie sat in the centre of the festivity, clearly not knowing if she should join them. Sheended up putting her small hands in her lap, having decided that it would be strange to toast to herself. Her 'Donk' continued."Sybbie, may you sail the seven seas! May you live for as long as you want, and never want for as long as you live! To Sybbie!" "To Sybbie!" The others echoed, cheerily.While everyone proficiently fell back into conversation, with Branson talking softly to his daughter and stroking her hair, Thomas heard Lord Grantham joke to his wife, "See, Cora? I told you I would keep it short. That might've been the briefest speech I've ever given!"Lady Grantham in turn whispered to Mary, "And thank God for that!" The women shared a laugh. The butt of their joke was much too busy enjoying his wine to overhear it.There were only two more courses after that; a light salad and sweets. Tonight's desert was a Sticky Toffee Pudding, Sybbie's favourite.When the family was done eating, and the butler had given the footmen the cue to clear the table, the women went through to the drawing room. Thomas had never been so relieved to walk through the green baize door and down the stairs.The dinner had been a great success. There had been no obvious complications or arguments at dinner, and while Lord Grantham had gotten more sozzled than was good for him, Thomas felt it was better to count his blessings.At twenty minutes past nine Thomas, Andy and Molesley stepped into the servant's hall, where their colleagues were already waiting with the servant's dinner. They briefly got up for their butler before sitting down and starting their own 'feast'. It was the savoury pie that Mrs Patmore had aggressively rolled out the dough for that afternoon."How was it?!" Anna asked excitedly. "Did it go well?"There was no need for Thomas to explain anything to his staff, because Molesley was already seeing to it; he started a loud and intricate account of the evening, roping in all sorts of details that Thomas hadn't even noticed or cared for, all the while motioning animatedly with his arms. The servants clung to his every word. They were all very fond of the late Lady Sybil's daughter and were curious as to how she would fare in such an organised event.They were therefore not aware of the quiet conversation happening at the head of the table."How was it?" Richard asked his beau, reusing Anna's words, but with a different meaning behind them. A quick glance at his blue eyes told Thomas that he was trying to play off how worried he was."She did really well." He praised the girl, starting off positive. He then got even quieter."He's drunk, but also really good-humoured. Jovial." Richard frowned at that. He took a few bites, thinking this information over. "Really?""I don't know what to make of it, to be honest. Maybe I misread him, this afternoon. Maybe it's not so bad as we thought." He tried.The valet left from him didn't seem fully placated, but forced a small smile nevertheless."Yes, maybe.""Anyway," Thomas said in a somewhat lighter tone. "I have to get back up there in a moment, serve more drinks. But with a bit of luck we'll get through this evening without any more problems." He briefly put his foot against Richard's under the table. It worked to soothe them both. He imagined sharing a soft kiss together; opening his mouth slightly and running his tongue gently along Richard's before closing his lips in a delicate peck. Only the quietest little click would be heard from the smack of their mouths, before they would part again. He loved those loose and soft, unhurried kisses the most."Meet me in my office later, okay?" He whispered. "When everyone's gone to bed, I'll tell you how it ended. Then we'll have a better idea of how to proceed. I don't want them barging in to one of our bedrooms and finding one empty and the other one doubly occupied."Richard nodded and turned his attention back to Molesley, who was now cheerily explaining the history of the Silver Centrepiece.Thomas tuned out the jabbering fool and ate the rest of his dinner in silence.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Upstairs, in the drawing room, the family was seated comfortably on their soft couches and nipped at their sherry.
The men had just finished their cigars in the dining room and were now joining the Ladies. The overall atmosphere was relaxed, after a good dinner and even better company.
Little Sybbie was sat close at her father's side. She occasionally rubbed her eyes. It was already a bit past her bedtime, but Tom had relented when she'd sweetly asked for ten more minutes.
Mary walked over to the fireplace and took a seat next to her father. Ever since arriving in the drawing room, he'd been back to his pensive state, staring into the fire. It was as if all of his energy had been put into making the dinner a success, and now that it was done, so was his liveliness. Normally Mary would just sternly joke that he should go to bed, as he wasn't the youngest anymore. But it would have to wait. She needed to make a point first.
"Papa." She said brightly. It worked to get his attention. He looked conflicted, but not uninterested. He probably thought a distraction might be nice. She would have to disappoint him.
"I wanted to talk to you about that business with Barrow." She went on.
He looked up sharply at that, first making eye contact with his daughter and then looking around the room to see if they were alone in their exchange. They were.
"What do you know about such things?" He said, a bit brusquely. Honestly, Mary thought, and rolled her eyes at her clueless papa.
"You seem to forget that there are no secrets in this house. I know everything." She challenged, with one eyebrow raised.
Her father turned back to the fire and replied.
"Then you also know why I can't tolerate it." He sounded quite final, but Mary didn't give up so easily. She was a Crawley, after all.
"Now just a minute papa! There's-" "It isn't for now! I'm going to talk with him in the morning." He was getting agitated.
Mary needed a second or two to recover from the rude interruption.
"Well..." Mary continued, her tone aloof. "I do hope you've got something nice to tell him."
Robert Crawley cleared his throat. It sounded almost painful. It occurred to Mary then, that he looked rather old.
"I have not, if you must know. Which pains me just as it does you."
The dark haired woman doubted that very much. He didn't have a seven year old son who was utterly obsessed with the rogue butler.
She couldn't believe she didn't have a say in such a big decision. She was involved in the estate just as much as he was! The whole situation annoyed her to no end. She ignored the voice in her head that told her she wasn't doing this for Barrow as much as she just
wanted it her own way. She tried a new approach."I'm sorry, but I must insist that you rethink your decision. Have you any idea what day it is? For him? Lord knows Barrow hasn't been the
easiest, but I should hope you've got some compassion left in you after all that wine. You can't be hasty with these things, you first have to
get to the bottom of it."
Her father sighed. She felt like she was finally getting somewhere. But then he turned to her with a hurt look in his eyes.
"I regret Barrow's incident very much. You know I do, my darling. But it's no excuse. Not even today."
Gosh, what has Barrow said to him?!
For a moment, neither father nor daughter said anything.
Mary saw her mother approaching them and sit down beside her on the couch. There was her answer. When daddy says no, go to
mummy! That rule always counted, no matter how old you get.
"What are you two whispering about over here?" The American brunette asked curiously. Mary doubled down. She turned her head to the
right where her mother sat, and announced in a loud voice to the room: "Barrow." The door opened. Mary didn't notice.
"Papa wishes to sack him and I think it's ridiculous! I'm trying to convince him-"
"Mary." The woman in question stopped short at her mother's warning tone. She was disorientated for a moment, and bewildered at the way Cora Crawley had addressed her. She hadn't heard mama speak to her like that since ruining her prospects with Mr Pamuk.It was dead silent in the room. No one spoke, not even jolly old cousin Isobel. Something felt off; the relaxed atmosphere had been replaced by a dreadfully uncomfortable one. Mary looked up and saw her family members gape at something behind her. She turned around to the drawing room door.
There, in the door opening, Thomas Barrow was stood frozen with Andrew on his heels. The latter looked more confused than anything, but Barrow was grave and pale. He didn't look surprised.
It was quiet for so long, that it could have been a deliberately set up Tableau Vivant. Everyone seemed unwilling to burst the bubble of silence.
Until Lord Grantham let out a deep sigh, and briefly put his head in his hands. He stood up and turned to his daughter.
"Fine." He spoke with barely restrained rage.
"If that's how you want to play it, you can have it your way... I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I don't see how that can be possible now." Mary's father clenched his jaw. The alcohol had caused a slight flush to his face. He continued.
"You've forced my hand. I need you to remember that."The Earl looked up towards the door and addressed the footman directly.
"Andrew. Send for Ellis."
Ellis? Mary frowned, confused.
The young man didn't make to leave the room. Instead, he turned his head towards the butler, who was still standing against the wall, stunned and horrified. Andrew slid his gaze back to his employer.
"Milord, I-"
"Are you deaf, man?" Several people flinched, including Sybbie. Tom put a protective arm around her.
Robert Crawley was red-faced, wide-eyed and completely enraged.
"Go downstairs, find Ellis, and send him up!" He roared.
The flabbergasted young man finally sprung into action and scampered out of the room. He left the door open in his hurry.
The Earl turned around to face his shocked family members. Even Violet Crawley was at a loss for words.
"Tom." He sounded eerily calm. "Take Sybbie to the nursery."
The ex-chauffeur, who knew all about being the subject of Lord Grantham's wrath, didn't need to be told twice before following an order.
He gently pulled his daughter off the couch.
"Daddy, what's happening?" She whispered. She had definitely never seen her grandfather so angry. It must have brought on a great sense of confusion. Mary found that her heart ached for her young niece.
Sybbie was pulled past Barrow, who was still frozen in place, and towards the open door. The child pulled free from her father and rushed back to her petrified friend. She pulled on his sleeve.
"Mr Barrow!" She pleaded. She was crying now, demanding an explanation. One moment she was having a splendid birthday party, the next her favourite servant was being publicly fired. The butler didn't respond to his sleeve being pulled. He was staring at nothing, mind far away. He looks like a corpse, Mary thought.
"Come on, darlin'." Tom said, and lifted his daughter up so she couldn't run away a second time. He left the room with the sobbing girl and closed the door behind him.Once again, the silence was deafening. It was Mary who broke it in the end, giving words to her most pressing question.
"Ellis? Why Ellis?"
Her father answered without looking at her.
"I thought you knew everything." He bit back. Mary looked around. Everyone looked disturbed. Edith had the gall to give her an accusing glare, as if she had been the source of the conflict. Mary threw up her hands, exasperatedly.
"Well, I thought-"
"No." The man of the house shot out.
"You clearly did not think. And therefore, now, no one is going to think, or for that matter speak, until Barrow and Ellis are both here. You wanted me to get to the bottom? Then that's precisely what I will do."_______________________________________________________"Mr Ellis, you've got to come quickly!"
Andy ran into the servant's hall with a panicked expression, as if the devil was at his heels.
Richard looked up from where he was sat at the long table. He'd been playing cards with Phyllis to pass the time; the Lady's maid had promised to stay up with him and meet Thomas in his office after the family had gone to bed. Mr Bates, Anna, Mrs Hughes and Mr Molesley had left for their cottages only minutes ago, and Mrs Patmore and Daisy had gone up to bed.
"What? Come where?" Richard asked. He'd been deep in concentration and wasn't immediately aware of any real danger. At seeing Andy's face he threw his cards to the table and jumped up out of his chair. Thomas! Where's Thomas?!
His mind was racing. Did his love have another fit of panic? Had someone provoked any self-punishing behaviour in the young butler?
He was having all sorts of bizarre imaginings, from Thomas breaking down on the floor of the drawing room, to him picking up a heavy carafe and breaking it into pieces on his head. His incredulous fears were interrupted by the curly haired footman in the doorway.
"I don't know what happened! I promise I don't! It's mad! One minute, me and Mr Barrow were entering the drawing room, and the next Lord Grantham is screaming at me to get you! Lady Mary shouted something about firing Mr Barrow and then they all went quiet and- I don't know! But it was absolute madness!!"Richard immediately realised that their hope to have until the morning to make their escape had been nipped in the bud.
Most men might have run to the butler's office to get their suitcase, and flee from the Abbey as quickly as possible. But Richard was not most men. He shared a look with Phyllis. She obviously wanted to throw caution in the wind and follow Richard up to the drawing room.
"Stay here." He ordered. The lady's maid's breaths came quickly. She was panicking, because she knew she couldn't do anything to help; she looked desperate. Hopeless.
Richard followed Andy up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. They hurried through the green baize door and towards the drawing room.
The formerly Royal valet took a second to collect himself to appear as professional as he was able, and pushed open the door, Andy entering behind him.
He was met with the Crawley family, scattered across the room, on various chairs and sofas. Lord Grantham was the only one that was stood; next to the fireplace, in all his Lordly Glory. Thomas was against the wall, closest to the door. Richard had seen enough shell shock, and had certainly seen enough of Thomas, to know that the butler had completely tuned out his surroundings in order to safeguard his mind; he stood rooted in place and had no facial expressions whatsoever.Richard stood next to his petrified lover, proudly, even though Thomas had not acknowledged him entering the room; his gaze was fixed on the complex pattern of the carpet.
Lord Grantham opened his mouth to address the queer couple, but his own mother beat him to it.
"I do suppose I'm allowed to think and speak again, now that your valet is here, Robert?" She asked sharply.
Richard didn't understand what she meant by it, but the old Lady was clearly the only one to have a lasting impact on her son.
"Because from where I am seated, it seems like you were planning on carrying out a double dismissal." The Dowager Countess explained.
"Mama, I'm terribly sorry that you have to witness this. I would have never chosen to go about it in this way, but Mary twisted my arm."
The Dowager looked as if she very much thought that he'd twisted his own arm. She continued her train of thought, as if his reply hadn't come in between.
"And making a big scene, without even knowing the full story. Without giving them a chance to explain."
"How do you know there's anything to explain?" He argued back.
"Robert, there's always something to explain. And I have a good feeling as to what it might be." She finished, sternly.
Richard doubted that very much. He was distressed to say the least, and anxious to help Thomas out of his state. But there was no way of doing that now. Touching him now, with the family sitting there, would only lead to more problems. He had to save himself first, before he could save Thomas. His Lordship addressed him for the first time, since he'd entered the room."Ellis, I have called you up here because, as Barrow has undoubtedly let you know, it has come to my attention that the two of you have been using my trust, gallivanting around the house, disturbing the peace downstairs and embarking on an illicit liaison under my roof."
A few gasps rung out. Richard could hear Andy softly whispering "What?" to himself, in disbelief.
"Do you deny it?" Lord Grantham asked, his face flushed. Richard gazed around the room, seeing all of them look back expectantly. Were they hoping he would say it was a lie? Richard looked his employer in the eyes.
"I don't deny it, Milord."
Lord Grantham looked deeply disappointed. He clearly had hoped he would say it was a lie. The man frowned and turned to Richard's fellow criminal.
"And you!" He addressed Thomas with renewed fervour. "How long has this been going on for?"
Richard was planning on answering for him, but was very surprised to hear Thomas speak up.
"Would it make a difference, Milord?"
He sounded calm, as if he'd accepted his fate. It disheartened Richard greatly. Don't give up, love! He wanted to scream.
His Lordship threw his hands in the air. "Yes! Maybe! It might make a difference to know that this is a recent development! And not a well-thought-out plot to fill a trusted position, replace my entrusted confidant, with one of your own!"Richard was seething. One of your own? What did he think they were? An underground network of criminals? A secret society, craving to spread their sort far and wide?
"Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to dissapoint you then, Milord." The butler said, not beating about the bush.
"Because Mr Ellis and I have been involved since the day we met. Since the royal visit." He confessed. There was no going back now. Richard felt his hands get clammy and fought the urge to wipe them on his suit. The lovely man beside him was not finished yet.
"But I reject the notion that it was ever a plot. We don't go in for plots." The Dowager made a rather disbelieving noise. The butler was known for his plots, after all. Thomas clarified further.
"At least not when it comes to this. There is no reason to. I simply wanted a person that I cared for deeply, to live closer by. So we could spend more time together and be there for each other. I merely wanted what everyone wants. Company. A connection.
So when an opportunity arose, we decided to take it. We have kept it from the staff and family for this very reason, to avoid conflict. Not because we're evil."
"I didn't say you were." Lord Grantham interrupted childishly. Thomas didn't let it stop him. Richard felt pride bloom in his chest.
"And if I may speak frankly, Milord; I filled your trusted position, replaced your entrusted confidant, with the most trustworthy applicant in the country. A man who has personally dressed the King of England. Who has worked his way up to become the best payed valet on the market. He gave all of that up to come and work for you. All so he could have breakfast, lunch and dinner with me."
Richard couldn't help wince at how Thomas conveniently left out the bit where they snuck inside each other's bedrooms to feverishly touch each other in the dark. Wet kisses, soft gasps and whispered encouragements the only sounds they dared to make.
Thomas finished his story with a quiet but determined, "Seems like a big sacrifice for a mere plot."The group of people in front of them were silent for a moment as they digested this information. Lord Grantham opened his mouth to speak but then-
"The royal visit?" Lady Edith piped up from the corner, having had some time to think it over while Thomas had made his case. She frowned, and then smiled.
"But that must have been about a year ago, wasn't it?"
Richard knew an opportunity when he saw one. He spoke up.
"Yes, Milady. It was. In fact, it was a year ago, today."
The blond woman's smile broadened. Her eyes twinkled happily.
"Well, then you must accept my warmest congratulations!" She said, approvingly. Her husband took her delicate hand in his and shared her warm smile. "And mine, of course." He added.
It was as if a tiny wave of life and colour was being blown back into the room.
Richard soaked it up and tried for his trademark grin. He had to force it a bit, considering they were still on the verge of being homeless.
"Thank you, Milady. That means more than I can say."
For the first time since stepping foot in their courtroom, he risked a glance at his Thomas. He looked dumbfounded, gaping at Lady Edith, too surprised to thank the pair. They didn't seem to take it to heart.
"Edith." Lord Grantham warned.But then Lady Mary stood up to share her two cents.
"Well, I can't believe I'm saying this but I completely agree with Edith." She drawled. "Congratulations, Barrow. Ellis. May there be many more." She raised her tiny glass of Sherry.
Lord Grantham whipped around to face her. He was already angry at her for causing the public dismissal, and was now even angrier at her interrupting it. She didn't give him a chance to chastise her for it.
"And I'm surprised at you, papa. Both for your reaction and your cluelessness. This is old news, after all. Do try to keep up."
"What?!" Lord Grantham shouted.
"You knew about this? How?"
Richard and Thomas watched it all unfold in silence. Lady Mary went on.
"Well, when I was born, I was blessed with eyes!" She rolled them then, as if to prove it. "Of course, I didn't know it was the reason you were acting so strange today. I just assumed Barrow had stolen a letter opener or something trivial like that. I thought you already knew about this! I mean, it is quite obvious."
Richard shared a confused look with his partner. Had Lady Mary known all along and chosen to look the other way?Lord Grantham faltered at her speech, and turned unsteadily to his wife.
He looked at her, silently asking for support.
"I knew about it too, Robert." She said in her droopy tone. She looked saddened by the whole conversation.
What is happening?! Richard couldn't believe his ears.
Lord Grantham stared at his wife, utterly shocked. She clarified.
"I saw them kiss, a while back. The day the new refrigerator was being delivered. I went downstairs, late in the evening, to have a look at it. They didn't see me, so I went back upstairs. If they found a way to peacefully do their work, without distressing the other servants, and using our house as a safe haven from incarceration... I don't see a good reason to fire them, Robert."
Richard racked his brain to search for the memory of them being so dimwitted as to share a kiss in the middle of the servant's hall, and was a tiny bit relieved to remember that it had only been a kiss on the cheek.
Thomas was red in the face with shame. Richard wanted to slip in his mind to pluck out all of the negative and self-punishing thoughts that were no doubt flying around in there. He wanted to tear them up and fill the empty space with lovely thoughts, about how beautiful he was, how proud he made Richard, how-"Is that how you all feel then?"
Lord Grantham didn't look very much like a Lord in that moment. He was stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by family and subordinates. No one was willing to come to his aid.
"Mama?" He tried.
The old Lady regarded her son.
"I think you're kicking up a big fuss over nothing, if you must know. And this spectacle has made me rather tired."
She turned her wobbly head to the doorway, where Andy was processing all of the revelations very slowly.
"Andrew. Send for my car, please."
The young man shook out of his stupor and left the room, not wanting to be screamed at again.
Violet Crawley slowly got to her feet, leaning on her cane, and made for the door. Upon passing the two men against the wall, she halted for a moment.
"I hope to see you here tomorrow, Barrow." She smiled and made a small sound.
"Do make sure that girl makes some more of those Lemon tarts." She patted him twice on the arm and left the room.His Lordship sighed. It must be very painful to have his loved ones go against him in this way.
Richard felt something akin to hope creep up inside him. Would he still fire them, if he was alone in his opinions?
The silence was once again broken; this time by Lady Merton, who according to Thomas, always had something to say.
"Well, I think it's excellent! This house is officially part of the Modern World. Brava!" She exclaimed.
"I quite agree." Lord Hexham replied, hand still firmly holding his wife's.
"And I must urge you to come to your senses, Lord Grantham. The late Marquess of Hexham would have done so too. I'd like to think I can speak in his name."
"Well said!" Lord Merton complimented him.
And with that, everyone in the room had spoken out their support in one way or another. Lord Grantham was officially outnumbered and overruled.
He took a deep breath and admitted his defeat. He sounded immensely tired.
"Very well, then. You've all made your positions very clear. And I won't draw the evening out any longer."He looked up towards Thomas.
"You have a great many friends and defenders in this house, Barrow. I hope you're very grateful."
"I am, Milord." The beautiful man replied. Richard could hear the lump in his throat.
A small nod from his Lordship. Richard felt overcome with relief.
"I'll say goodnight then. And I will see you all tomorrow." He looked around the room once more.
"Tell Bates I've gone up." He added, and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
He left in his wake two very tired, but very relieved men.
They were surrounded by their protectors.
Richard blindly reached for Thomas's hand and squeezed it, hard. He took a shaky breath.They were okay.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Barrow? Do you have a minute more?"Thomas turned around and was met with the sight of Lady Mary, looking stunning in her dark red frock. She held a bottle of his Lordship's best Champagne. It had stood in a bucket of ice, waiting to be opened, on a table in the drawing room only moments before. Thomas had put it there himself.After his Lordship had left for bed, Thomas and Richard had thanked the party warmly, for saving their livelihoods and for speaking out in their favour. They'd explained that it was very special, to have such a big group of people in their corner. They'd then made their excuses and left the room. The pair had a lot of thinking to do, and there's no way Phyllis had gone to bed. They'd need to see her first and reassure her that they wouldn't have to leave in the morning. Andy too, was surely wanting an explanation.Just before reaching the green baize door, Richard had suddenly realised that his Lordship had asked for Bates to be sent up; he'd forgotten to let the man know that Richard was going to take back over. Bates was long gone.Thomas had been uneasy about the whole thing, but Richard convinced him by reminding Thomas that he would have to dress him in the morning anyway. "Better to get the awkward moment out of the way as soon as possible."Thomas had received a quick kiss on the cheek and Richard had walked off with a spring in his step.Thomas had stood there lamely, a blush warming his cheeks. What grown man swoons from a kiss on the cheek?He'd decided to forgive himself just once, seeing as his relationship had just been dramatically revealed and accepted. That would make any man a bit overwhelmed. Of course they would still keep a professional distance in front of the Crawley's and their staff; Thomas wasn't planning on being bent over his Lordship's personal desk anytime soon, but he felt infinitely more free than before. He'd still been contemplating how utterly ridiculous this day had been, when Lady Mary'd come walking up to him with the Champagne.She held out the bottle and he took it, with a confused frown on his face."We wanted you to have this. As a gift. I'm sure there's something you have to celebrate tonight." She said with her posh smirk.Thomas didn't know if she was referring to his one year anniversary, or to his recent escape from gaol. It didn't matter, really; both would do. She rolled her eyes, but not unkindly."I'd like to say it was my idea, but unfortunately you have Lord Merton to thank for it." She jokingly confessed. "We're not going to drink it and papa won't miss it. I merely offered to hand it over, because I wanted a quick word."Thomas's mouth opened and closed. He looked from Lady Mary to the bottle, and back again."Of course, Milady- Thank you, I- What did you want to talk to me about?" He fixed his posture slightly; she'd caught him unaware."I wanted to apologise. For interfering. I hope you know that I didn't want there to be big row. I thought papa was angry over something else. I didn't know he was going to explode like that."A personal apology from Lady Mary, Thomas mused. Wait until Richard hears about this."I appreciate it, Milady." He gave a small smile and looked down towards the wine bottle in his gloved hand."But maybe it was the right decision... If you hadn't pushed in, he wouldn't have tried to fire us on the spot. He would have done it quietly, tomorrow morning. And then there would have been no one to change his mind, to stick up for us. We would have been spared a public humiliation, but we would have still lost our jobs."Mary looked very pleased at this; doing a wrong, but emerging a hero."I suppose you're right, Barrow. And I wouldn't have been happy about it. I can assure you that."She clasped her hands together."Well, I'll leave you to it. Goodnight, Barrow. And be sure to share that." She pointed at the wine."I will, Milady. Goodnight." And with that, Lady Mary walked back to the drawing room, no doubt planning to boast how she had been the one to save the odd couple from the clutches of their cruel society._______________________________________________________Richard knocked on the door to Lord Grantham's dressing room. He heard the man behind it welcome him in.Here goes nothing, the valet thought to himself, and entered the room. His employer was standing by the window with his back turned, writing something down an small note on his desk."Ah, Bates. You've-" he stopped short when he turned around to see that it was very much not Bates that stood before him. Richard snapped into professional mode, not giving away any feelings with his expression."I'm sorry, Milord. Mr Bates has gone home to his cottage. His leg was bothering him too much. I hope you understand."Lord Grantham waved him in weakly."Yes, yes. It's- Can't blame him for looking after himself." He muttered.Richard got to work. Effortlessly undressing his Lordship (never lingering and completely differently from the way he'd undressed Thomas that morning), hanging up his clothes, laying out his employer's pyjamas and putting away the expensive cufflinks while Lord Grantham got into his nightclothes. He handed the man his dressing robe and set about preparing his day suit for tomorrow. He could hear the older man behind him think. Richard wondered if he was going to say anything about the evening, or that they would pretend it had never happened.He finished all of his work in no time and turned to the earl."If that's all, your Lordship." He said politely. Lord Grantham looked at him. It seemed to Richard he was looking at him properly for the first time, since coming to work here. Was he just now realising that it was a person standing in front of him? Aman?"You're very efficient." He said. Richard raised his eyebrows. What an odd thing to say."Thank you, Milord. I take great pride in my work."This comment in turn seemed to surprise Lord Grantham."Do you?" He asked, genuinely. "And you still left his Majesty's service to come work here... Barrow was right at least in that; it's quite a step down."Richard looked down. The way Robert Crawley had said it, you'd think he believed his great house was akin to a wooden shed.Richard chose his words very carefully. The truth was out, but it did not mean all bans were lifted."I'm aware of that, Milord. But it was a choice I had to make. I wasn't desperate for just some company. I could have found that anywhere. Leaving the Palace, leaving his Majesty, it wasn't an easy decision to make. And I wouldn't have done it for just anybody. I do take great pride in my work, but a year ago I found something to take even greater pride in. Coming here, it was a way to combine the two. To lead the best possible life. This isn't a dalliance, Milord. It is for life." He looked his Lordship in the eyes. He seemed oddly moved."I'm not... prejudiced, Ellis. I don't condemn your sort. I don't wish to see you locked up."Richard nodded, anticipating a 'but'."But... I confess I felt very betrayed today. You seemed to have made a big effort to fool me. And it worked. Because I do feel foolish."Richard pursed his lips. He figured he would have to take the first step towards reconciliation. He was the servant, after all."I am very sorry about that, Milord. We thought it wise at the time. Would you have taken me on if you knew the full reason for my application?"Lord Grantham regarded him for a moment, his chin in the air and posture tense. Then he relaxed and put on the dressing robe he'd still been holding. Richard's apology, together with the challenge that they couldn't have done it any other way, seemed to be the deciding factor; he was let of the hook."We'll say no more on the subject. It is settled." He obviously didn't want to admit out loud that he wouldn't have given Richard a chance if he knew he was here to woo his butler. Luckily for Richard, it didn't need to be said; the truth hung in the air like a thick waft of smoke.Lord Grantham walked to the door to leave. He turned back around briefly to address Richard a final time."Oh and you-" he gestured vaguely with his right hand. "You have my support, if it makes any difference."Richard grinned. He didn't have to force it this time."It makes all the difference, Milord."He received a short nod, and was left alone in the dressing room.___________________________________________________As soon as Thomas stepped one foot in the servant's hall, he was almost knocked back with the force of an embrace; Phyllis had jumped up immediately upon hearing footsteps on the stairs and had thrown herself at the butler. Holding him tightly, before leaning back and grabbing his face. Was she checking for bruises? Tears? Thomas supposed a mix of both. She didn't give him a chance to say anything. She just started rambling."Oh my God, Thomas? Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?! Where's Richard?! Oh, Thomas, please tell me they didn't call the police! You have to get your things! I'll-""Phyllis!" Thomas interrupted her and held her at arms length; he wasn't used to all the physical touch. Normally, everyone except for Richard liked to keep a nice and safe distance from him.He squeezed her upper arms reassuringly."Phyllis, it's alright. Really, it's-" He huffed a little laugh. "We're not fired."She looked at him like he'd grown a second head."You're not?" She asked with her trademarked worried frown. "How?'How indeed? Thomas mused. He couldn't rightly believe it himself, yet. This day had been so full of ups and downs, he was going to need a long time to come to terms with it."No, I- Don't get me wrong, it was horrible. He was going to fire us, he was! But then, they just... wouldn't let him."He knew he was being vague, but the whole thing was so strange, that the right words simply failed him."What? Who? Who's they?" She rushed."That's just it. All of them. It was mad, Phyllis. In the end, he just... slinked away to his bedroom." Thomas explained incredulously, as if he'd just described a fairytale. A fairytale indeed."And that's not all! They gave me this!" He gestured to the bottle of Champagne. She hadn't noticed it in her haste.He half expected her to just deny his story, but she was, if anything, known for always believing the good in people. She took him for his word, and gave him a blinding smile."Oh, Thomas! That's wonderful! I'm so pleased! But-" She faltered a bit. " Where's Richard?"Thomas frowned."He's up there with him." He made an upwards gesture with his head."But he said he could manage. He knows what he's doing."The Lady's maid looked like she was going to reply, but then they heard the sound of someone hurrying down the stairs. They turned around to the entrance of the hall to see who would emerge. Richard couldn't be finished yet, could he? Or did Lord Grantham turn him away?But it was Andy, not Richard, that stepped into the room. He'd just sent off old Lady Grantham in her car, and was technically done for the day. He'd apparently gone on a detour on his way to bed, looking for some clarification on what he'd witnessed after dinner."Andy." Thomas greeted with a nod."Mr Barrow, is it really true?" He got straight to the point."Are you and Mr Ellis really.." He didn't finish his question. Thomas rolled his eyes at his refusal to call a spade a spade."Yes, Andy. It's true. Are you planning on taking a little trip to the police station? Because I'd recommend putting on a coat. I'd wager it's cooled off quite a bit, outside." He said, with a bit of an edge. Phyllis put her hand on his arm. To comfort him, or reprimand him. He wasn't sure."What? No! No. Nothing like that! Only, I was so confused. Are you sure Mr Ellis is really.. That way?" Andy asked, lacking any confidence.Thomas laughed inwardly at this. If Richard wasn't a homosexual through and through, Thomas had certainly convinced him to do some peculiar things."I'm quite sure." He told the footman.Andy looked like he'd just been told that he was next in line for the British throne."But he's so normal!" He exclaimed. Thomas felt a sting in his chest. The young man obviously didn't realise this was quite the sore point for Thomas. He honestly couldn't fathom why Richard was deemed manly enough to pass as normal while Thomas was seen as some sort of-"Well, he is like that!" He bit back, before his thoughts could get the better of him and pull him under in another downwards spiral.Andy looked taken aback, seemingly beginning to understand that he'd offended the butler."I'm sorry, Mr Barrow- I didn't mean- I'm sorry. I just didn't see it coming. Will you have to go now?"He, of course, had been sent away before any conclusion was made."Luckily no. And neither will Richard." Andy's eyes shot up at having heard Thomas refer to the valet by his first name. Honestly! He was acting like he'd caught them in flagrante."And I'll warn you now, before you get any ideas!" Thomas used his butler voice, that he usually reserved for dallying maids.This is not a topic of discussion! If I get wind of anything that happened today being gossiped about, it will not just be my job on the line."Andy looked slightly hurt at Thomas's sharp tone and the insinuation of being untrustworthy. But Thomas couldn't take any risks."I won't gossip, Thomas. I promise." Now it was Thomas's turn to be surprised at a first name being used. He didn't respond."Right. I'll say goodnight, then." And with that, Andy gave a nod and left the room. His footsteps could be heard, heading up the stairs.Phyllis spoke up."You don't have to be so hard on him, you know. He wants to be your friend."Thomas looked her in the eyes. He gave her a tight lipped smile."Maybe... But, like Richard said, better safe than sorry. He'll get over it."The Lady's maid smiled back, warmly. Thomas looked up to the ceiling, and then took out his father's pocket watch. Seventeen minutes past ten. He had some time before Richard was done dressing his Lordship for bed. He made a little plan."I'm just- going to bed now, if it's all the same to you. It's been a long day. Quite tired."It wasn't a lie per se. It had been a long day. But he wasn't going to tell his friend that he was actually planning on freshening up a bit. He had a bottle of Champagne and a very handsome man coming over later; he wanted to be presentable and fit to be seen. Richard had assured him on multiple occasions that he liked Thomas just as is. But Thomas simply felt more comfortable when he was neat and tidy."Tell Richard goodnight for me." She told him, before giving him a kiss on the cheek and also heading for the stairs."I will!" He called after her.It wasn't until he entered the red tiled bathroom that he realised he hadn't told her going to bed meant having Richard also be there. She'd just assumed they shared a bed.He shook his head with a small laugh and got to work.There had been an overwhelming amount of fear and uncertainty that day.But within all of that uncertainty, he knew one thing beyond question:Tonight was going to be perfect.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
When Richard stepped into the Servant's hall, he found it empty and dark. There was no sight of Downton Abbey's butler or Lady's maid. His guess was that they'd already gone up. Richard didn't mind. In fact, it made doing something else a little easier.He made a quick stop in Thomas's office to get his overnight bag. In it (among other things) were his nightclothes, the brown paper bag that Phyllis had given him, and of course the gift he'd bought Thomas in London. He then headed upstairs, fit legs carrying him all the way up to the attics without having to pause once. It was not only his daily running around that made him able to do this; there was quite the prize waiting for him.He entered the bedroom that by now Richard liked thinking of as 'our room' more then 'Thomas's room'. But the man that had resided there for the past twenty years was not in here either. For a quick second Richard panicked; precisely one year ago, Thomas had been sitting in a damp prison cell. He'd had no hope of getting out and didn't know Richard would be there any second to save him. Had Thomas been affected by the memory? Did he have another panic attack or relapse? Should Richard not have left him alone?But then, Richard remembered the extensive cleaning routine his partner always insisted on before they were intimate. As quickly as the worries had started, they stopped.The valet closed the door and put his overnight bag in the corner by the desk. He was surprised to see a very expensive bottle of Champagne standing there. It must have been an eighth of the butler's yearly wages. There was no way he'd spend that kind of money on a singular bottle of wine, right? Richard chuckled to himself as he took off his jacket and waistcoat, carefully putting them away in Thomas's closet. Imagine they survived this night and then were eventually let go for stealing. That'd be ironic, Richard thought.He took off his shoes, socks, shirtsleeves, trousers, and after a moment's thinking his undershirt as well. He gave all of his clothes the same treatment. He could never just throw them over a chair and hope for the best.He hesitated a moment by his bag, but eventually decided against putting on his nightclothes. They were going to come off anyway.Instead he walked up to the bed, only wearing his underwear, grabbed hold of the mattress and slid it in a swift movement from the bed to the floor. He neatly rearranged the duvet and pillows. It was a practiced move. They usually did this before having any sort of sex. It might have been a bit of a mood kill to stop what you're doing when you're in the middle of starting something, but better a little pause than falling victim to the wild creaking of Thomas's bed.After he'd made up their impromptu bed on the floor, he took a seat in the red chair by the window, spreading his legs comfortably and waiting for the other man to arrive. After about five minutes of waiting and fantasizing about what was to come, the door handle was pushed down and in walked Thomas. He looked clean and ready for bed. His hair was soft and floppy, perfect for running your fingers through. He wore light blue pyjamas and his feet were bare.He stood there for a minute, as if seeing Richard in his chair came as a surprise. Then he closed the door behind him, leaned against it and nodded towards the mattress."That's presumptuous of you." He said with a light smirk. Richard returned it."Did that bottle walk all the way up here on its own? Or did you give it a hand?" He asked, ignoring the reference to their coupling. Thomas immediately stopped flirting to tell him what he missed. He explained how Lady Mary had cornered him and gifted him the wine. He then asked Richard how dressing his Lordship had gone."Better than I hoped. Still bloody awkward though." The valet muttered."I can believe it." Was Thomas's reply, all the way from the other side of the room where he was still plastered against the wall.It was too far away for Richard. He cocked his head sideways and gave another smirk. Next, he gave three light pats on his lap. It was an invitation if ever there was one. Thomas blushed and looked away at first, but it didn't take him long to push himself off the wall and slowly make his way over to the red chair. When he was stood before it, he took another few seconds, before gently lowering himself sideways on Richard's lap. He supported himself with his right foot, but his left leg was dangling over Richard's knee. He got comfortable while Richard snaked his right arm around his back and placed his left hand underneath Thomas's upper thigh. He pulled it up, so that now both the butler's feet were off the ground. When he was fully secure in his lap, he ran his hand up and down his thigh, occasionally squeezing. He felt no ridge of fabric where his underwear would normally sit. Thomas sighed contentedly at the touch."What were you doing in the bathroom, eh? I was waiting for some time." He teased in a low tone. Thomas huffed a laugh to hide his blush."I was getting ready for bed." He challenged."Oh really?" "Yes.""Because I was getting worried, you know. You were taking so long..." He gave another squeeze on the word 'so', hand now getting dangerously close to his lover's backside."Richard." Thomas called out breathily. "Hmm?" Richard hummed, tone perfectly innocent.Thomas sighed and gave in to his little game."I was getting ready okay? Making sure everything is nice and clean, in case you wanted to-"Ooooh!" Richard exclaimed in faux comprehension. He gave the man above him a smug look, finally being able to make his point."You know, some might say that was very presumptuous of y-"Thomas shut him up by leaning forward and pressing their lips together. Richard didn't take the joke any further; he was quite pleased with the way things were going. His hands roamed a bit, gliding over Thomas's sides and coming up to cup his jaw. He, in turn, felt hands run through his hair and gripping at his bare chest. They shared a few open mouthed kisses before Richard pulled away a bit. They caught their breath and Thomas leaned his head in his lover's neck."Why've you stopped?" He breathed out. Richard chuckled at his tone. He sounded like a spoilt little prince."Wanted to quickly check in how you're feeling." The valet said. He got a frustrated sigh in return."Don't be cross, darling. I mean well. Doesn't feel right if I don't know where you're at in that head of yours." He tugged gently at the black hair in emphasis and waited patiently for the man in his lap to finish thinking."I feel...much the same as this morning, if I'm honest. Lot of good and bad all at once. Doesn't just go away... Do really want you though."At the last part he lifted his head out of Richard's neck to look at him. He gave a soft peck on the corner of his mouth, silently asking, pleading.Richard felt like purposefully denying him for a bit longer, get him really frustrated. It was a game they played and both enjoyed from time to time; holding off to increase the pleasure further down the line, stretch the moment out."Hmm, I don't know." He contemplated. "Don't know if you've earned it yet..." Thomas grunted. "Told you how I'm feeling, didn't I?" He argued. "What else do you want me to do?"Richard ran a hand through the inky locks above him. He pretended to think a bit, while Thomas moved his head back down and mouthed at his jaw a bit. It didn't leave Richard wholly unaffected, so he took the next step."Could do with a glass of that wine, Mr Barrow. Will you pour one for me?"It was one of those moments that calling each other by their last names felt immensely risqué."I'm sure I could manage that, Mr Ellis. I'm a butler, after all. It'll do you well to remember."Thomas wasted no time in standing up off his lap and making his way to the desk, eager to earn more of those kisses.Richard had him right where he wanted him. He lounged lazily on the chair and admired Thomas's behind. From where he was seated he could now clearly see that the thin material of his pyjama bottoms was the only thing covering his soft skin; the fabric was slightly stuck between his cheeks, leaving nothing to the imagination.He felt himself grow hard at the sight and adjusted himself for a bit of relief."Hope you're alright drinking out of a whiskey glass." Thomas announced. The bottle opened with a pop. "It's all I have."Richard got up and walked right up behind his love. They stood chest to back and Thomas gasped at the sudden contact. Richard looked over his shoulder. "Go on, then."Thomas started pouring, but not as steadily as he hoped; Richard had started roaming his hands over his front, squeezing his stomach and slowly unbuttoning his pyjama top. It was hanging open fully just as he finished pouring out two full glasses."Taste it." Richard ordered, and traced his pointer finger through Thomas's chest hair. The latter gave a jolt when the finger passed his left nipple, but raised the glass to his mouth obediently and took a big sip. He swallowed."How is it?" The man in the back asked huskily, and took a hold of Thomas's jaw. He turned his head and kissed him deeply. He moaned at the combination of Thomas's tongue and the expensive wine. Richard pulled away again, but this time only to reach around Thomas and pick up his own glass. He took a mouthful of the liquid, letting it swirl around his mouth before also swallowing. Thomas immediately leaned in again to repeat the special kiss. He then had the nerve to push his arse backwards, right up against Richard's hardening prick. Richard gasped in the kiss. His right hand shot to the other's hip, keeping him steady while he pushed right back, grinding against him and kneading at his flesh. They were still kissing feverishly when Richard moved his left hand downwards to feel at his lover's sex. It was stiff and leaking, surely causing a small wet spot on the front of his nightly wear. Thomas let out a soft 'Ah' at the hand rubbing at him through the fabric."Want to put me mouth on you." Richard murmured against his lips, before moving on to his neck. He licked a stripe up to his ear and suckled gently on the butler's earlobe. Thomas whimpered a bit and tried to find his voice."F- Ah- Front or back?" He asked shakily and ground back again, his back arched."God Thomas." Richard whispered and pulled the other man's pyjama top off his left shoulder. He bit at the meaty part of his shoulder."Back, please, will you let me?" He asked as nicely as he could. He received an eager sound in return, somewhere between a hum and a moan. They both took a few more sips of Champagne, a little more calm, now that they knew where the evening was headed. Thomas turned around in the embrace. They gave each other soft little kisses in between sips; on the cheeks, nose, ears, jaw and everywhere their mouth could reach in the small distance between their faces. They finally put the glasses down and moved to the mattress. Thomas was guided down gently on his front. He couldn't help grind into the mattress, which earned him a light pat on his bum. It wasn't a slap in any way, and Thomas merely giggled at it, not feeling reprimanded in the slightest. He knew that Richard would never refuse him pleasure. If he really wanted to get off by rubbing down on the bed, he wouldn't be stopped. He had something more in mind for tonight though, that much was clear.The both took their time to get comfortable, with Thomas hugging a pillow under his chest and spreading his legs a bit to accommodate his beau. The man in question took a deep breath and pulled the pyjama bottoms down to just under the crease where his backside met his thighs. He always savoured this moment, just taking in the sight, feeling, prodding, before finally tasting. He ran his hands over the pale cheeks, and then a finger down the cleft over the dark little hairs that grew there. His mouth was already watering, but he held himself back from just diving in. He leaned his head down and ghosted his lips from the left cheek over the cleft to the right one, featherlight. Thomas shivered, but kept otherwise still in anticipation. He had learnt to be very patient with Richard as a lover.Next, the indulged valet bit once where the flesh was thickest, and soothed the sting with his tongue. He gave a few more wet kisses all over his rump, before finally using his right hand to spread one cheek to the side a bit. He felt his prick throb at the erotic sight. He knew for certain that he would never get used to seeing this part of Thomas, where he was most vulnerable and oh so pink.He now used his left hand as well so he could spread him fully. The stretch together with the idea of being looked at made Thomas clench down involuntarily. His hole winked a couple of times before being able to relax in the open air."God, Thomas, look at you." The man behind him murmured to himself.Richard watched for a moment more, admiring the pink ring and the short, black hairs that surrounded it.He then placed his right thumb directly on it while using the knuckles of that same hand to keep him spread from both sides. He rubbed the dry digit up and down a few times, not hard enough to slip in, but firmly enough to activate the nerve endings there.It had the desired affect; Thomas gave a soft whine that said, 'Get on with it!' Richard acquiesced; he could have spent an hour just teasing him lightly, but what Thomas says goes tonight. I want nothing more than to please him. He leaned forward again and gave a kitten lick over the hairs beside the opening, to start him off. He repeatedly ran his tongue around it, not quite giving in to the demanding man, before hitting home fully; he licked a broad stroke directly over his centre.Richard got a moan in return, loud enough to encourage him, but not loud enough to alert Andy, who was sleeping down the hall.He started lapping at his rim with gusto, alternating between swirling around it with the tip of his tongue, and outright French kissing there.Thomas was breathing hard now. He sounded strained, letting out little 'Ah's and 'mmm's. When Richard dared pushing his tongue in, past the muscle, Thomas whined and started whispering urgently."Rich- Ah- Fingers, fingers!" He managed to get across, before wildly arching his back and gripping the sheets.Richard pulled back reluctantly and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth."To prepare you or to finish?" He asked, because they meant two different forms of touch. Thomas thought about it for a moment andlooked back. His mouth was slack and his eyes glazed over. He looked absolutely ruined, but so beautiful."To prepare, you idiot." He said without any bite and let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Need you, 's our bloody first anniversary." His voice was muffled, but the message was clear.The brown haired man got up with as much patience as he could muster, and retrieved the half empty tube of K-Y jelly from the upper desk drawer. He got back down on the mattress and pulled off Thomas's pyjama bottoms all the way. He also pulled the loose top from his shoulders and started to get up to fold them or neatly put them away, but it seemed the man lying on his front could read minds; Thomas turned around again, yanked the clothing out of his partner's hands and threw them out of reach. Richard put his hands up in surrender, which placated the other man enough to relax back into position. The next few minutes were carefully spent preparing the young butler. Richard started off slowly, pushing one finger in and out for about a minute before Thomas was begging for more. He had the habit of pushing back against the hand that tended to him, in a silent protest of 'Come on, you git!' Richard, in turn, usually put a hand on the small of his back in a silent response of 'Be patient, you sod!' Before he did move on to two fingers, he put a fresh blob of jelly on his fingers and made sure they were coated well.The fingers slid right in, without any resistance, so Richard decided to tease his partner a bit more; he leaned over and placed a breathy kiss on Thomas's ear while at the same time crooking his fingers against his prostate."A-Ahhh fuck!" "Hush, sweetheart." Richard chastised him, as if he hadn't been the one to cause the shout. Thomas turned around and gave his best glare, but it faded away to the glazed look from before when Richard abruptly pulled at his hips so that he was in a kneeling position with his front still down, and started pumping the two fingers in and out. He picked up the pace. Thomas, who was still looking back at him, let out a string of quick 'Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah' sounds, his eyes rolling back and his mouth hanging open. Richard grew impossibly hard from the image and was suddenly very impatient to connect together fully.He quickly pulled out his fingers and freshly coated them, now with a third finger. This time there was some resistance, but Thomas breathed through it like a champion and was soon begging anew."'S 'nough Rich, c'mon g't on with it." He slurred. It couldn't have been the one glass of alcohol. They were drunk on something else entirely.Richard finally decided that waiting any longer just wasn't an option for either of them, so he slid off his underwear, hissing at the fresh air rushing over his privates. God, he couldn't wait to sink down in that heat.The couple fumbled a bit to find a good position, but ended up facing each other in missionary, because as the black haired man so eloquently put it: "Kisses, Rich, better, please."Richard covered his erection in a good layer of lubricant and smeared the excess off on Thomas's hard prick. The latter jolted a bit at the direct contact but leant into the touch all the same. Richard used his other hand to put his cock against the soft pucker, running it up and down the opening a few times before eventually sliding home in one fell swoop. Hands gripped at his shoulders as they groaned in unison. The pair were interlocked like that for a few moments; staying deeply connected while outwardly touching, gripping, kissing what they could reach. Thomas pulled at Richard's arse to try and get him impossibly deeper, which the valet saw as his cue to start moving in earnest. The drag of it was amazing.He started off slow, gently pulling back and pushing forward, all the while keeping his mouth close to Thomas's left ear. Breathing there, soothing there. How this could be wrong in the eyes of the law and so many people following it, the couple would never understand. It was overwhelming warmth, spreading from where they were connected, all the way through their bodies, and out through their mouths. The mouths that were also connected in a kiss, forming a neverending loop of life and love.Thomas gave little whines and moans, which were so erotic to Richard's ears, that for a moment he stopped moving and focussed on not finishing two minutes into their lovemaking. When he got his bearings, he rolled his hips forward again in an upward motion. Thomas was hit square in his prostate and almost choked on a gasp. Richard continued his assault on the vulnerable spot with a series of steady thrusts, while Thomas hid his moans in the other's neck. It came out muffled, and was the only way to stop his love from loudly shouting his moans. Someday, the valet thought, someday we'll find a place where we don't have to hold back. Where we can be as loud as we want.He grabbed Thomas's gloved hand (he preferred wearing it during sex) above his head in a surge of passion. "I love you, Thomas Barrow." He growled and captured his soft lips in another kiss. He felt the man underneath him freeze for a second,grab at the valet's discarded pair of underpants and holding it over his prick, before unwillingly and rapidly clenching his entrance around Richard, wave after wave. The recipient of the constant little squeezes recognised it immediately for what it was: an unanticipated orgasm. Richard fucked him through it without pause, kissing away the frustrated curses the butler flung his own way until the pulsating slowed and eventually ceased altogether. He then pulled out, flipped over his love quickly but gently, took one look at his fucked out, sensitive rim and used his right hand to bring himself to climax while holding Thomas's arse open with the other one. There weren't many strokes needed before he felt it build up, aiming carefully and finishing over the now loose, pink sphincter. He felt his own arse clench in much the same way and breathed heavily through his teeth, savouring the feeling. He caught his breath after a few more seconds and reached underneath Thomas to take away the soiled pair of pants. Thomas hissed when the fabric was used to clean his lover's ejaculate off his raw hole.Richard plopped down next to him, bone tired, but content as can be. He closed his eyes for a moment to process everything and heard the man next to him roll onto his side so they were facing each other."Bloody hell, can't believe I just ruined that."The self deprecating comment made Richard open his eyes again. He reached out and ran his hand through the black hair he loved so much. He smiled."Didn't ruin anything, darling." He reassured. "Enjoyed myself immensely, if you hadn't noticed."It had been a while since anything like this happened. For the most part, Thomas was well out of his 'second puberty', as Richard jokingly called it in his head. But apparently some things still had the ability to make him shoot off by accident, which amused his partner to no end. He wasn't going to tease him about it, though. Not today. Today was all about sweetness."Maybe I don't tell you enough that I love you." He mused. "I'll make sure to remind you a bit more often. Get you used to it, yeah?" Thomas picked up the hand that was stroking his hair, and started playing with the fingers, wiggling them and giving them little kisses."Wouldn't mind it." Came the soft reply. "Won't get used to it, though.""I love you." The brown haired man said confidently and seriously. Thomas beamed at him, but said nothing back. Richard moved closer and repeated it in a whisper. "I love you." Thomas merely snorted at this, then pulled a contemplative face with furrowed eyebrows, and looked back towards his desk, up at the-... Right.Richard sighed a dramatically big sigh and stood up, naked as the day he'd been born. Thomas's eyes followed him to the desk, where he poured another two glassfuls of Champagne, after which he sat back down on the mattress. He held out a glass, but pulled it back before his sweetheart could grab it. "What do we say?" He teased."Thank you, Richard." The other feigned ignorance, but couldn't hide his smile."And?"Thomas sat up, leaned in close to Richard's ear and whispered, "I love you, Richard Ellis."They shared a sweet kiss and nipped at their wine in a comfortable silence for a bit.It wasn't until the butler had poured them a third glass each, emptying the bottle, that Richard remembered they had promised to meet Phyllis in the little downstairs office. When he asked about it, he felt the atmosphere grow a bit tense. A short account of the conversation was given; how she'd hugged her friend, how confused but pleased she was for them and finally how Andy had demanded to know if they were truly together. "I threatened him with dismissal if he told any of the staff." Thomas said, a guilty look on his face.Richard frowned. "Why would you do that? After you've just been threatened with the same fate?" He winced at how stern his own words came out. Tonight was for sweetness, after all.The lovely, very naked man next to him looked away. He shrugged and nervously pulled on his earlobe."Got angry, didn't I." He muttered, while looking everywhere but at his interlocutor. He did look chastised then.Richard reached out to trace little soothing circles on his leg and tried for a softer tone."Did it seem like he was planning on spreading gossip downstairs?""I don't-" A sigh. "No, not really."Richard didn't reply, just continued drawing at his partner's leg; a sun, then a flower. He'd almost finished a detailed human eye, when the silence was broken."He couldn't believe you were a queer. Said you looked normal. Or seemed normal, doesn't matter."Richard inhaled a sharp breath. This was dangerous territory; it was a very sore subject for Thomas and one wrong word was enough to make him very nasty. He chose his words carefully."I... can see why you would snap at him. I do believe he didn't mean to offend you, but I understand why it would."It was, unfortunately, the wrong thing to say. Thomas sneered."Because you agree, don't you? You can understand why he wouldn't ask twice when they all poisoned his mind against me, but as soon as he's told that you're the same, he just cannot fathom it! Why is that, eh? What is it about me?" The pale blue eyes were quickly filling with tears, some already falling down as his breaths shortened into soft sobs. Richard's heart ached for his love."I don't agree, darling. You know that, so don't take it out on me, please. You know I'm on your side." He told him firmly. It was as if he hadn't even been heard. The floodgates were open now."Why does everybody always know? I don't-" another gasping sob, "walk oddly do I? I don't understand, Rich!"Richard took both of his hands and held them tightly. "Tell me, then. Who knew?" He urged. They'd never really discussed it deeper than surface level. Normally, taking a step back seemed like the logical option, but Thomas had only ever been irritated by it. Now that he was crying, taking a step back just wouldn't cut it."I- just- I don't know! I can't think!" He sniffed and wiped his tears of frustration away, forcing himself to get calm; they were having such a nice time! But the valet didn't care about that. Some things were just more important. He took over wiping at the butler's tears, doing it so lovingly that the thoughts settled and were able to be shared.Thomas talked shakily, for the first time fully explaining where his biggest insecurity had come from. He focused his gaze on his half empty glass."M' parents." He mumbled. "They knew. They knew somethin' was wrong. Kids at school saw. Called me a Nancy boy, but I didn't- I swear Rich, I didn't even do anything!" Richard reassured him quickly that he believed him."I've never told you this, but- The man that... that took me off the streets, he knew. Just from looking at me. 'S how I got me first job in service. By looking like a tart. Even called me his sweet little catamite. Thought it was a compliment, back then. Didn't know what it meant." He said bitterly. Richard shook his head, brought the gloved hand to his face and kissed it, in a silent encouragement to go on."When I came here, I was only taken on because my employer knew Lord Grantham. Carson was uncomfortable from the start. Mrs Hughes acted like I needed her pity. Ms O'Brien knew, confronted me within my first month. Mrs Patmore never said anything, but she gave these looks. Bates knew, but he never did anything about it. I thought he would; wanted to have the upper hand. I heard his Lordship joke about it a few times. Lovers knew... could tell by the way they approached me; full of confidence, not one worry that I could be anything else than a-" Richard gave him a quick peck on the lips to stop another horrible word from coming out. When he pulled back, Thomas looked sheepish. He was aware of his partner's aversion to insulting words referring to their preferences."And then, last year..." Thomas looked thoughtful, confused even. "When they were going to fire me, I went to this job interview. And the butler outright told me I looked delicate." A few more tears formed and were gently wiped away by Richard. "The man that took me to the warehouse during the royal visit, Rich. He knew. I was drinking a beer, just sitting. And he- he somehow knew,'There's one I can safely ask!' Without any knowledge about me whatsoever."Thomas finally made eye contact and Richard instantly knew what was coming."Did you know? Could you see?" The lovely man begged for an answer."I didn't know, Thomas." The other man didn't look convinced."Then why did you ask me on an outing? Why bother?" He argued back. Richard sighed."I didn't know, Thomas. I only hoped." He tried to instill. He felt it was his turn to give his two cents."Children are ruthless. You knew you were different, and felt vulnerable. Kids always pick out the ones that are vulnerable, no matter the reason. The only reason I wasn't found out in school, is because I did everything in my power to make the teachers the vulnerable ones. As for your parents, they probably compared you to your siblings and were distressed to see that you were secretly struggling with something big. If they took a correct guess, and handled it badly, there's absolutely no excuse." He referred to the public beating Thomas had endured at the hand of his father. He continued."Your first employer, was he much older than you?""Was in his forties." Thomas mumbled and hid his face in his glass. God Almighty."Then it sounds like he didn't mind one way or another, what your preferences are. He took advantage of you, you understand that, I hope?The embarrassed man hummed and took a small sip. Richard mulled the next few names over."The staff here. They gossip. It's a very good possibility that either only one of them knew and it was spread around, or they drew their conclusions when you failed to show interest for girls. If you live with someone for a long time, it's understandable that things get noticeable. They probably saw a very handsome boy, thought 'This ones trouble for the Crawley sisters,' and then you weren't. And Lord Grantham knew that pervert that took you in? Who says he didn't tell him when he put you forward? 'Here's one that won't chase after your daughters!' I'm not saying this is what happened, all I mean is that there are more possibilities than that they knew because you looked like a homosexual." "But do I?" "No. You don't. There's no such thing, darling. You look like a man. Only one that happens to share his bed with another man. And more than just his bed, I hope."Thomas smiled a bit, but it faded when he looked down to their makeshift bed. He took a deep breath and looked Richard in the eyes."It does make me feel... wrong, sometimes. I mean- when we're intimate. I've always preferred- you know." He made a vague gesture andRichard understood it as Thomas's preference to receive during sex. "I like the feeling of it, and the idea, I suppose. But there's a voice in my head that's telling me I'm proving them right. That I shouldn't want it. That it confirms I'm not a proper man." Richard did frown at this; he had no idea that the insecurity ran as deep as their sex life."Oh, Thomas. That's just not true! If you didn't conveniently have a prostate like every other man, maybe things would be different, but you do. And if you've found that you enjoy sex the most if it's utilised, then you don't suddenly stop being a man. D'you know how many idiots are sleeping soundly next to their wives, never knowing what they're missing out on!" Thomas snorted a laugh and grimaced, no doubt imagining all the men in their lives with undiscovered prostates. He grew serious once more."Are you missing out?" He asked in a small voice. Richard thought about it."Sometimes? A bit. But I've never had such a strong preference. I mainly enjoy watching you enjoy yourself. And if it means having to fuck you once in a while to see it, I think I can get on board with that." They both grinned and shared another small kiss."Thank you, Rich. But do tell me if you want to turn it around, okay? Don't want you to think you don't have a say.""I will."And with that, the atmosphere in the room had righted itself."Don't know what I'd do without you. Talking me out of all of my fits. Don't you get tired of it?" He'd asked it lightheartedly but there was a bit of uncertainty as well."I don't, I promise. And you've managed for quite a few years before we met, wouldn't you say?" Richard joked back.Thomas looked at him intensely. "Maybe, but I hope I never have to manage again. I couldn't bear it."Richard swallowed, suddenly feeling a surge of something running through him. Longing? Nerves?"Do you mean that?" He asked breathlessly. Thomas nodded and drained his glass. He looked a bit awkward at his own big confession.Richard slid his eyes over to the overnight bag he'd put by the desk. He licked his lips."Because, uhm.." he trailed off and looked back at the butler. He looked confused by Richard's nervous behaviour."When I was in London, I uh.. bought you a gift, actually. For today. For our anniversary. But with everything going on, there just wasn't a right moment to give it to you. But maybe.. I could give it now?"Thomas gave him an incredulous smile, shiny teeth on display. "You bought me a gift? I..." "Just close your eyes for a moment, okay?" Richard said. He needed to take charge of the moment before he lost the nerve.When he saw his order was being obeyed, he grabbed his bag, opened it and reached inside. He pulled the gift out and took it out of its little velvet casing, looking at it for a second before taking a deep breath and reaching for Thomas's pale right hand.He slid the ring up the fourth finger and watched as realisation dawned on his sweetheart's lovely face. Two pale blue eyes opened and stared down at the hand that was now adorned with a piece of jewellery that had not been there before. It was a simple thing, gold, without any bells and whistles like diamonds. Just a simple, masculine ring. It only had a tiny engraving on the inside; T&R July 21.Thomas gaped up at Richard, absolutely flabbergasted. It spurred the valet on to give the little speech he'd prepared."I know that we can never get married. Not truly, not in the eyes of the law. But I came to this house to be with you, Thomas Barrow. And I don't mean that lightly. If we do plan to spend our remaining time together and not have to manage without each other, as I believe you just implied... Then I'll be damned if I can't call you my husband, at least in private."Thomas opened and closed his mouth and looked back down at the ring."Is that something you want as well?"Another moment of Thomas trying to find his voice before he finally answered in a way that didn't require talking; he flashed a great big smile, nodded shakily and pushed his love down on his back. He climbed on top into a straddling position, leaned down and placed the sweetest little kiss on the corner of Richard's mouth.Relief washed over Richard in an overwhelming wave of emotion. He felt tears prickle in his eyes."Will you let me buy you a ring, too?" Was the first thing Thomas asked after they broke apart. Richard laughed through his tears."I would love nothing more, Mr Barrow.""Then it's settled. Happy anniversary, Mr Ellis.""Happy anniversary, love."