Greetings! This is a period AU story that I hope you will enjoy. I'll be experimenting with writing a few anti-headcanon items of mine, so we'll see how it goes.

Charles Carson hurried into Downton village, several emotions competing for dominance in his perturbed heart - anger, shame, and fear. Memories of his former life always triggered shame in him, and where Charles Grigg was concerned, he was still very angry, even after all of these years. The fear he felt was directly connected with Grigg's apparent presence in the village. Mr. Carson had hoped that his past life would never intersect with the respectable life he had labored hard to make for himself over the last several decades, but the man waiting for him at the Dog and Duck had the power to dash that hope and destroy that life. Mr. Carson knew his only chance for prevailing against Mr. Grigg required that he keep his fear hidden.

The pub was neither deserted nor crowded, it being the middle of the day. Mr. Carson found his former friend fairly easily. Time had not been particularly cruel or kind to the man; he looked much as Mr. Carson expected - an older version of the man he had known. He made his way across the room and sat down at Grigg's table without speaking to him.

"Hello, Charlie," Mr. Grigg greeted him.

"Don't call me that," Mr. Carson said curtly. "It's Charles or Carson."

"Yes, that's right. Carson, the high and mighty butler now, I hear," Mr. Grigg taunted.

Mr. Carson's eyebrows drew together, but he resisted the urge to engage with the man. It would do no good. "What do you want?" he demanded quietly.

"Getting right to the point, I see. You weren't always so unfriendly, Charlie."

"I don't have time for this. Tell me why you're here or I'll take my leave."

"I've been asking after you in the village, Charlie. Folk think well of you here. I knew you'd gone respectable, but I didn't expect to find you butler to the local lord. Up at 'the big house,' they tell me."

"And?" Mr. Carson could barely keep his temper.

"And it would be a shame if the good people of this village, not to mention everyone up at Downton Abbey, heard what I could tell them about you."

"Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"Call it what you like, Charlie, but you'll give me what I want or I'll tell them what you really are."

Mr. Carson stared hard into his adversary's face. This was just what he had feared. He was going to have to find a way to give Mr. Grigg what he wanted and then get him out of Downton for good. "Tell me what you're after, Grigg," Mr. Carson said grimly. "And make it fast. I haven't got all day."

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Elsie Hughes did not have any time for nonsense. The house was in an uproar over the arrival of what Mr. Carson called "the new family," and she had too many things to do and too many fires to put out to deal with anything else. However, it seemed that just as she handled one problem, another appeared to take its place. Sitting at her desk, she could hear conversation in the servants' hall, but her ears caught the click of shoes on the stairs and she stopped what she was doing to listen for some indication of the identity of whomever had just descended, staff or family. As soon as she heard the countess's voice, she was on her feet and making her way quickly down the corridor.

"Can I help your ladyship?" Mrs. Hughes asked, joining Lady Grantham in the doorway of the servants' hall.

"This is the button we're missing from my new evening coat. I found it lying on the gravel," she answered, dropping the button into Mrs. Hughes's open palm. "But I was shocked at the talk I heard as I came in. Mr. Crawley is his lordship's cousin and heir. You will therefore please accord him the respect he's entitled to."

Mrs. Hughes didn't have any difficulty figuring out whose talk might have shocked the countess, but she was still surprised when Miss O'Brien faced her mistress and argued back. "But you don't like him yourself, milady. You never wanted him to come here. I remember distinctly-"

"You are sailing perilously close to the wind, O'Brien," Lady Grantham interrupted, in a voice like steel wrapped in silk. "If we're to be friends, you will not speak in that way again about the Crawleys or any member of Lord Grantham's family. Now I'm going up to rest. Wake me at the dressing gong."

After Lady Grantham swept quietly up the stairs, Mrs. Hughes thought she might be left in peace, but it was not to be. Miss O'Brien and Thomas took up the subject of the former's freedom to speak disrespectfully of Mr. Crawley down in the servants' hall and Mrs. Hughes had to squash this conversation as firmly as possible. "Not when I'm in charge!" she told them sternly. "Now. Tea's over. Back to work." Handing the button off to Miss O'Brien, she was at last able to escape to her sitting room and get back to her own work.

Mrs. Hughes worked her way through piles of invoices and could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel when she heard the back door close softly. She didn't think much of it - likely just Thomas or Miss O'Brien going outside for a cigarette break - until she heard someone enter. The footsteps followed the corridor to Mr. Carson's pantry and went inside, before the door was closed firmly. She hadn't been aware that he'd gone out. She had other things to think about, however, so she went back to her work.

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Mr. Carson sat at his desk, staring into space. It was worse than bad. Grigg was on the run from the law and was asking for food, shelter, and money, in exchange for his silence on Mr. Carson's past. He didn't know how he could manage this situation. He could find ways of providing food and shelter, but those were rather underhand, if not outright immoral. Additionally, he knew that it was only a matter of time before Grigg would became impatient in his demands for money as well as food and shelter. Mr. Carson allowed himself to consider the possibility of refusing the demands outright and the possible consequences. He had no doubt that Grigg would have the story of Charles Carson's time in the music halls all over the village in no time at all. Village news was Abbey news, so word of his shameful past would reach the family and staff. Lord Grantham would surely dismiss him, and even if he did not, could Mr. Carson ever command the respect of the staff if they knew what he had once been?

There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Hughes walked in. Immediately she noticed his dejected mood, but she did not speak of it right away. "Are the new family going to be with us for dinner on Tuesday? Mrs. Patmore was asking."

"I'm not sure yet," Mr. Carson answered, not looking at her. "I'll let you know when I find out."

Mrs. Hughes tilted her head to one side. "Are you quite all right, Mr. Carson?"

He looked up at Mrs. Hughes. Her face showed her concern; she knew he was upset about something. She always knew when something was wrong, though he still did not often admit openly what he could not completely conceal from her. Mr. Carson tried to imagine what she would say if she knew about the Cheerful Charlies. He could see her, in his mind's eye, looking at him with disdain. There would be no more glasses of sherry or cups of tea, no more shared, unspoken jokes. She would never respect him again, though her character would not allow her to openly show any disrespect. Mr. Carson saw their friendship slowly falling apart and his authority downstairs slipping through his fingers.

"Fine, Mrs. Hughes," he answered. "Just a little tired is all." He could see that she didn't believe him, but he didn't need her to. He only needed her to stop questioning him.

"I'm not surprised," she commented. "You'd better turn in early tonight, Mr. Carson."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," he told her. "I'll be fine."

She raised an eyebrow and smiled a little before turning to go. "Whatever you say, Mr. Carson."

He relaxed and returned that slight smile. "I'll see you at dinner, Mrs. Hughes."

Mrs. Hughes left the room with a quick nod and closed the door behind her. Mr. Carson was decided. He could not stand by while Grigg ruined his reputation in front of the Crawleys and in front of good, respectable people like Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. Patmore, and all of the other staff. He would do everything he could to protect his own respectability and get Charlie Grigg out of Downton for good.

To be continued…

a/n: "Respectable" is a term used a little differently now than it was back then. Certain professions were not considered respectable, and singing and dancing on the stage was one of them. It didn't really have anything to do with the individual being worthy of respect because of their own behavior and attitudes. You could have a really despicable person practicing law, mending roads, or working in domestic service, but they would be considered respectable because of how they made their living.

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