Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey or any of it's characters. I'm just using them for my own pleasure - no money is being made from the publication of this little story.

A/N: My first fic for this fandom - I hope I've done it justice.

Chapter 1

Mrs Hughes watched anxiously as Mr Cason lay in the large bed in the Blue Room of Downton Abbey. Upon learning that his esteemed butler was unwell, Lord Grantham had insisted that he be moved into a guest room. Under normal circumstances, Mrs Hughes was sure Mr Carson would have protested at such treatment but at the moment he was far too weak to do so. He now lay, sleeping fitfully, wheezing and covered in sweat, waiting for the doctor.

She touched her palm to his brow. It confirmed her fear that he was running a high temperature. Hurrying, she retrieved some water and a cloth from the nearest bathroom and, upon her return, sat on the bed beside him, gently dabbing his forehead and face in an effort to cool him down. Every so often she would return the cloth to the water for a few moments before resuming her task. She continued to his jawline and then lower to his neck and small amount of chest left bare by the open collar of his pyjamas.

She wondered if he would think it improper. She thought he probably would. But she was strong enough to defend her own reputation and his if it was required. It probably wouldn't be however, as Lord Grantham had been fully supportive of her decision to be Mr Carson's nurse until he was better.

She was still trying to cool him down when Dr Clarkson appeared.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be hear sooner. Lady Grantham has taken a turn for the worst," he explained.

"Will she be okay?" she asked, concerned.

He repeated his words to Lord Grantham from earlier. "If she survives the night, she'll live."

He examined Mr Carson and then questioned Mrs Hughes. "How long has he been like this?"

"Most of the day, but the fever seems to be worsening."

"It does seem to be Spanish flu, and I am concerned about this fever; I'm seeing cases where it's lasting several days and that is not good. We need to break it; get his temperature down. You will need to put out the fire and open the windows. I'd also recommend some ice; pack it around his body; it must remain there even if Mr Carson protests, which he probably will. Are you to nurse him all night?

Mrs Hughes nodded. "I'll ask Anna to arrange for some ice to be sent up from the kitchens. Will you be staying in the house, Doctor Clarkson?"

"I cannot, I'm afraid. I have other patients in the village. There isn't much I can do for either him or Lady Grantham at the moment. When the fever reaches crisis, it will be up to them to fight it and I have every confidence in you and Miss O'Brien to nurse them. I will warn you though, this is a strange disease with sudden and savage changes, but Mr Carson is as stubborn as an ox; if anyone can get through this, he can." The doctor picked up his bag. "I will return as soon as I can."

Mrs Hughes thanked him and saw him to the bedroom door, confident that he could find his own way out of the house. Then she rang for Anna and arranged for her to round up the things that she needed. Anna appeared less than five minutes later, a hall boy in tow carrying ice. Mrs Hughes directed him to place the bucket by the bed, before dismissing him. When he had taken his leave Anna spoke. "I've brought you some things from your own room as well Mrs Hughes; I don't expect you'll be wanting to leave him if you can help it."

Fighting the blush that threatened to creep across her face at Anna's astute observation, she took the pile of her things from her. "Thank you dear. Will you be alright downstairs with both me and Miss O'Brien engaged in nursing duties?"

"Don't you worry Mrs Hughes, we'll be fine. His Lordship understand that there will have to be some catch as catch can in the coming days. You just concentrate on getting Mr Carson well."

With a nod, Mrs Hughes handed over her keys to Anna, pointing out the one to the store cupboard. "Don't let Mrs Patmore have it, no matter what she says."

"I won't Mrs Hughes," she assured.

Once Anna had gone, Mrs Hughes set about treating Mr Carson; she wrapped some ice in spare cloths and placed then along either side of him, before placing another pile on top of him. Then she remoistened the cloth and laid it on his head.

She could already feel the chill from the open windows and lack of fire, so she put on her cardigan and her shawl. She also removed the pins from her hair, letting it fall to her shoulders. It might help keep the chill of the back of my neck.

Then she sat in the chair to keep an eye on Mr Carson's condition but it wasn't long before the strain of the day caught up with her and she felt her eyelids dropping.

Mrs Hughes awoke at the sound of a man's voice. She was disoriented for a moment, before her eyes drifted to Mr Carson, and the events of the previous twelve hours came flooding back. She stood to assess his condition, swaying slightly as she did so; her own exhaustion catching up with her. She had not left his side since he had first taken ill and did not intend to do so until she knew he was going to recover.

He was mumbling in his sleep, "Wedding… wine delivery… Moseley…"

"Mr Carson!" He was thrashing around in delirium; trying to kick off the ice-packs in the process. She managed to stop them from spilling to the floor and placed them back securely around him.

He protested. "No... please!" His words were raspy and broken by desperate gasps for breath.

"You must!" She tucked them under his arms. "Doctor's orders."

She checked his forehead; he was burning up terribly and still fighting against the treatment. "You must fight this Mr Carson!" I don't know what I'd do without you.

Cooling the cloth, she dabbed his forehead once more but it didn't seem to help much. She knew this was the crisis; the highest point of the fever. She'd seen it once before, a long time ago… her sister had been ill with typhoid when they were children. She'd watched her mother nurse her; wishing there was something she could do. Suddenly, her mother's actions filled her mind and she knew what she had to do to help him. Back then the treatment had been to keep the patient as warm as possible, to provoke a crisis and force out the fever, and she remembered her mother gathering her sister into her arms on the bed, securing her blankets around her and sharing her body heat.

This time the treatment was the opposite; keep the patient cool; but the same principles applied. If she lay here with him, with her arm over his chest her weight would secure at least two portions of ice in place and hopefully help to break his fever.

Wrapping herself in a spare blanket for her own warmth, she clambered on to the bed next to him and threw her arm over the ice that lay atop him. She knew it was entirely improper, but she didn't care. If I don't, he could die!

He was murmuring again, but she couldn't make out the words, and thrashing from side to side; he was clearly distressed. Dabbing his head with the cool cloth yet again, she began to sooth him in the same way her mother had soothed her sister all those years ago. By singing.

"Gu robh neart na cruinne leat
'S neart na grèine
'S neart an tairbh dhuibh
'S àirde leumas."

As she sang in quiet Gaelic tones, he began to quieten. After what seemed like an age his thrashings stopped and, seeing that he was much calmer and less likely to throw off the ice, Mrs Hughes supposed that she should get up now and lessen the chances of being found lying with him, which she knew would lead to embarrassment despite the circumstances. She decided to give it another tem minutes, just to ensure he didn't relapse but, as she listened to the rattle of his chest, she found herself overcome by the sound, the softness of the bed and the presence of the man she lay with, and she fell quickly to sleep.

A/N: The song that Mrs Hughes sings is Taladh Dhòmhnaill Ghuirm which was composed as a lullaby for Donald of Sleat in the late 16th Century. The translation of the verse she sings is:

"May you have the strength of the universe
And the strength of the sun
And the strength of the black bull
Which jumps the highest."