GETTING MARRIED

Chapter 19 The Wedding

Him

He turned as the music began, eager to see her. Anxious to see her. The enforced separation of even eighteen hours had awakened a yearning in him hitherto unknown. The doors swung open and...there she was. She was...astonishingly beautiful. He'd been prepared for her beauty, or so he thought, because he saw it every day, his appreciation unhindered by her drab formal clothing and practical hair. Of course, he'd seen a different picture of her at the servants' ball, but she had never looked like this. Today she was beautiful well beyond even his own rose-coloured vision. She was radiant. It was what they always said about brides, but how true it was of her. He couldn't even focus on the parts - dress, coat, hair,...timid smile - because his mind could not distinguish them. He was enraptured by the whole.

The moment his eyes fell on her he gasped involuntarily and suddenly went weak, staggering a little. Behind him, Robert stepped in more closely and placed a steadying hand on the groom's shoulder. It didn't surprise Robert that Carson should have had such a visceral emotional response to this breathtaking sight. Though it was their custom to guard their feelings and to affect a demeanour of dispassion, there was no denying that they had feelings, these Englishmen, and that they ran deeply. It only confirmed for Robert what he already knew - that Carson was very much in love.

Fortified by his best man, Carson recovered his poise and simply stared, relishing every second of the bride's march down the aisle toward him, his beautiful bride...on Mr. Bates's arm. Somewhere in his mind he was aware of this detail, but he put it aside to be examined later. There were more compelling, and pleasing, things to concentrate on in this minute.

He knew what it was like to be the centre of attention and understood, perhaps more than most gathered there, the dynamic between actors and audience. But in this, the greatest public moment of his life, the spectators were irrelevant to him. There were only the two of them - he couldn't even hear the music - with His Lordship at his side and Mr. Bates at hers only shadowy presences that could be ignored. Everyone else might as well have been stone.

Her

The music began and the doors opened wide and suddenly a thousand eyes (or so it seemed) were staring at her. She had never been at the centre of anything and it was more than daunting. She didn't recognize a single face. They were an alarming blur. Instinctively she clutched more tightly the arm of the man beside her and he obligingly leaned in protectively.

How comforting he was! And how sensible his advice. She lifted her eyes beyond the crowd to the front of the church, peering down that interminably long aisle that she must traverse before all these people. And found him there. He was looking right at her, his mouth agape, his great dark eyes wide with what she could see, even at this vast distance, was a look of pure adoration. Her awareness of the throngs on either side of her faded. There was only him.

He was all starched and polished perfection, as she knew he would be. And as she approached him, she saw in his eyes the blessed confirmation of what looking glass had hinted beguilingly at that morning - that as a bride, she was beautiful.

The Downstairs Family

Anna hadn't seen it coming. When she'd asked the others on the way to the church, no one had known where Mr. Bates was. She was more than a little aggravated. He knew how important this day was to Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes and, through them, to her. When the Crawleys came in last and no John Bates followed, she despaired and grew more vexed than she had almost ever been. Oh! Where was that man! But she thrust her irritation from her mind. She was here to see Mrs. Hughes well married and she was going to focus on that. She'd deal with him later.

When the doors opened, she tried to see over the broad shoulders of Mr. Barrow behind her, and couldn't get a view. Then she stuck her head out into the aisle, which was really what she ought to have done in the first place, and... There was her Mr. Bates, walking Mrs. Hughes down the aisle as though it were the most natural thing in the world! And...so it was. His surprise! She wanted to catch his eye, tried to do so, to let him know with beaming countenance what she thought of his secret. But he did not look at her and then she remembered what was happening and she let go of him and turned her eyes to the bride. This was Mrs. Hughes's day and she deserved every bit of attention that Anna and everyone else could give her. And wasn't she beautiful! Anna's heart filled with elation for this woman for whom she cared so much.

Andy, the tallest member of staff, set eyes on Mrs. Hughes first and his eager look quickly gave way to a wide grin. He liked them both, Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson, and was glad for them, Mrs. Hughes especially. Things unfolded differently at Downton Abbey than he'd been led to believe on entering service, what with the senior staff marrying and Lord Grantham himself standing up with Mr. Carson. Andy congratulated himself on landing on his feet in this house, and no mistake, and looked forward to what promised to be a jolly post-wedding party.

Lord! She's pretty! Daisy stared at Mrs. Hughes in wide-eyed wonder. She'd never given the housekeeper a thought in terms of her looks. She was just there. Had she ever seen Mrs. Hughes smile like that? Well, maybe you only smiled that way on your wedding day. If you were marrying right person. Her own wedding had been so different. Daisy had reconciled herself to her marriage to William Mason, given all the good that had flowed from that flawed and fleeting match, but she knew how things were supposed to be and recognized it as it unfolded before her eyes here. Her gaze lingered on the dress. She was pleased and proud to have made even a small contribution to it. They'd had a special moment together last night, the downstairs women of Downton. And they were all going to share in the special day that Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes were having today.

To her surprise, Miss Baxter found tears welling up in her eyes as the music swelled and Mrs. Hughes...and Mr. Bates!...began their procession down the aisle. She was over the moon happy for Mrs. Hughes. Though she had not known Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson long and did not know them very well, she was certain that this was a love match, and that simple fact clutched at her heart. She was so caught up in the moment that she did not even think to compliment herself on the perfection of the bride's attire.

Thomas Barrow struggled, as he often did, to be like everyone else. They're not here to cheer on a man and a woman per se, he told himself. They're just happy for Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson. Can't I be, too? But he couldn't. Oh, he turned as the music started and craned his neck with the rest of them, and caught a little of the mood. Perhaps if he tried harder... He remembered, as an afterthought, Mrs. Hughes's date at the fair back before the war. He'd noted it, said she had a fancy man, prompting the ever-scornful Miss O'Brien, who was Her Ladyship's lady's maid then, to quip, "If she's got a boyfriend, then I'm a giraffe." Well, Barrow smirked, what would O'Brien have made of this development? In passing, because he did observe things, Barrow noted that Mrs. Hughes looked all right today.

Joseph Molesley watched Mrs. Hughes's progress down the aisle with an almost proprietorial sense of satisfaction. He knew from his own work, in years past, as valet and butler at Crawley House and from years of close observation at the Abbey, the dedication demanded of those in the senior positions, and he very much admired both Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes for the way they managed their professional responsibilities. But he knew, too, that there was so much more to life than work. He had struggled all his years in service to keep that in mind and to cultivate those other aspects for himself. If he had not found romance, or even companionship, though...well, perhaps best not go to there...then he had at least managed to establish some kind of inner intellectual life, reading history assiduously and trying to develop some level of expertise in English literature. Though few knew it, he was the most devoted film-goer under Downton's roof. They all need these sorts of absorptions, though not everyone was as diligent or proficient in seeking them out. He was more than pleased that the butler and the housekeeper were reaching for more, and absolutely delighted that they had found it in each other. And he nodded with admiring approval of Mr. Bates, too. He was a close-mouthed, aloof man, Mr. Bates was, but he clearly had a heart as his single-minded devotion to Anna showed. But to do this for Mrs. Hughes. Well, such thoughtfulness demonstrated a nobility of character.

Overjoyed. There was no other word to describe how Mrs. Patmore felt as her eyes fixed on Mrs. Hughes embarking on her joyous journey down the aisle. Mrs. Patmore's sharp eyes and even sharper mind, which were accustomed to absorbing dozens of details a minute in a busy kitchen, took in the whole picture even as she appreciated all the discrete parts. Mrs. Hughes had a shy look about her, coming into the church, the poor dear, and Mrs. Patmore guessed she could understand that. They were not much for the limelight, the two of them. Mrs. Patmore could see how she clung to Mr. Bates - didn't that beat all, Mr. Bates walking Mrs. Hughes down the aisle! - and then how she'd lifted her eyes and found her anchor standing at the altar rail waiting for her. The cook had been more or less indifferent to Mr. Carson over the years, so long as he stayed out of her way, which he'd almost always had the good sense to do. But she'd warmed up to him of late, this marriage business giving her great insights into his character in positive ways. And Mrs. Hughes. Well. The smile that swept her face when her eyes lit on Mr. Carson dispelled any lingering doubt Mrs. Patmore might have had about the housekeeper's love for the butler. They were well matched, the two of them, and not for them a crisis at the altar. Now that they were in the same church on the appointed day, they would be married, and she could breathe with relief. And didn't that dress look wonderful! Miss Baxter had fitted it and Her Ladyship's lovely coat to perfection. That woman was a marvel! And there had been Mrs. Hughes going on about her shapeless late middle aged figure! Mrs. Patmore hoped she'd taken a good long look in the looking glass this morning. And as the couple passed her, Mrs. Patmore spared a thought for Mr. Bates. Goodness, between them Mr. Bates and Mr. Carson made a pretty picture of the downstairs men today. Weren't they both so handsome!

Other Perspectives

Dr. Clarkson had hesitated for a moment coming into the church. Ought he to sit to the left, on what might be termed the 'bride's side' with the servants, or on the right, where the Crawley family were clearly expected to occupy the front row? He smiled to himself at the way the Abbey residents had divided themselves as a comment on the class divisions on the estate. In the end, he chose to sit on the right, though he had no more affinity for Carson than Mrs. Hughes. As he waited for the ceremony to begin, his eyes drifted from the interesting sight, at the front of the church, of Lord Grantham steadying his butler's nerves, to the second row on the groom's side. Yes. There she was. Mrs. Crawley. The family were going to arrive at the last minute, but she was there early, enjoying the atmosphere, and looking...beautiful. Well, so it always was in his view. Not even their recent tiffs over the hospital could dim his admiration for her.

It didn't pay to dwell on her and on what might have been. He was glad when the music started and the bride entered the church and he could focus on other things. He was pleased for them, Carson and Mrs. Hughes. The doctor was no revolutionary, but he'd always thought the impositions on servants in terms of the restrictions on their personal lives stifling and unhealthy. There was more to life than polishing silver and making sure His Lordship or Her Ladyship were comfortable. And he was glad the couple here today had realized that before it was too late. Love wasn't just for the young and here was proof, if proof were needed.

On the bride's side and behind the staff, Mr. Mason was enjoying the event and glad to have been included. Daisy had invited him to sit beside her, but he didn't think it right to do so. That he was here at all was, he was sure, Mrs. Hughes's doing. Mr. Carson was always polite to him, but also scrupulously observed the status divide between them. Butlers of grand estates did not socialize with tenant farmers. This was, however, a very mixed crowd. He saw Mrs. Wigan, the diminutive postmistress of Downton village, straining to see anything over the taller crowd, and the Bakewells, who ran the butcher shop, out in their Sunday best. That such people, who could only have had a formal acquaintance with the senior staff were here, was a tribute to the happy couple.

As his eyes followed Mrs. Hughes to the front of the church where the groom eagerly awaited her, Mr. Mason reflected on happy couples. He knew a thing or two about them. He missed Helen fiercely a decade and more later, missed her for herself and for all that they were to each other. A farmhouse was incomplete without a woman in it, and though he meant it when he encouraged Daisy to come and live with him, that was not quite the same and he was well aware of it. And it wasn't so much that he needed someone - he could fend for himself better than most - but that he wanted company and affection. Incidentally he noticed Mrs. Patmore looking almost as radiant as the bride, clearly so happy for Mrs. Hughes. And what a lovely frock she was wearing, too. It cheered a man's heart to see a woman looking so bright.

Mauve really isn't her colour, Miss Denker thought, examining the bride with the critical eye of an upscale lady's maid who'd spent most of her professional life in the City. But at that age, one couldn't wear just anything, so perhaps it was for the best. Someone had taken care over her, that was clear. One, or perhaps, even both of Downton's lady's maids? And, so Denker understood the gossip, diffused through the different levels of the Abbey staff, the family were footing the bill for the wedding breakfast and giving the happy couple a week off as well. Didn't some have all the luck!

How he had ended up sitting beside Miss Denker was something that Spratt could not figure out. He'd left the house without her, determined to chart his own course. It was a given of their... he hesitated to use the word 'relationship'...that neither could stand the other. It only followed that they should take any opportunity to distance themselves from one another. And yet there she was, at his side. He did his best to pretend she did not exist, a tactic that had thus far failed to work for him at the Dower House.

There were, no doubt, some who might ask why he was even there. He did not much care for either the bride or the groom and had exchanged perhaps only a handful of words with them over the years. But he did not dare decline to attend. His Ladyship had an extraordinary affection for the butler of Downton Abbey, something Spratt found difficult to comprehend, and she would have looked askance at his failure to exhibit appropriate respect. That said, he did have his own interests here, in the affair itself if not in the persons involved. For Spratt was a close observer of social events in all their ceremonial glory. A society wedding would have been far more interesting, but those were few and far between in the country and one was obliged to work with the material at hand. This would be the biggest wedding Downton would have until one or another of the Crawley girls made a match. That being the case, he immersed himself in the details - the flowers, the clothes, the guests and their ranking as manifested in where they sat, the role of the Crawleys - and he was looking forward to a very good party afterward. A feast was almost as rare as a wedding, and he understood that the Downton wine cellars had been opened for the event, another unprecedented treat.

The Upstairs Family

The Crawley women - the Dowager, Her Ladyship, Lady Mary, and Lady Edith - were also thoughtful observers of the scene.

Cora felt a little thrill of pride to see Mrs. Hughes wearing the coat, glad that she had made the gesture. That thought quickly faded into a general appreciation of the moment. Cora remembered her own march down this aisle and wondered if Mrs. Hughes, though more mature in years, shared that same sense of mingled anticipation, exhilaration, and terror that she had known. This wedding had prompted Cora to a new level of regard for Mrs. Hughes. The woman had faced down Mary on the issue of the reception venue and done so with a dignified manner before them all. She had also resisted Carson's pressure to conform which, Cora was certain, was not inconsiderable. They were brides at different times in their lives, she and Mrs. Hughes, but Cora appreciated and admired nonetheless the courage the housekeeper had shown. It had been years before she herself had been able to summon such grit to confront the formidable Crawleys. As the bride and her escort reached the altar rail, Cora's attention shifted to her own husband, looking so handsome beside an equally dashing Carson. Robert had not looked this happy in church since he had seen Mary married to Matthew. Cora was so proud of him for playing this part today.

The Dowager looked on the whole event with an abiding satisfaction. In her mind, Carson and Mrs. Hughes were part of Downton and every aspect of Downton was required to maintain a certain standard that all associated with it might continue to take pride in it. That had been achieved here. The Dowager was very fond of Carson, more so than of any other member of staff. His first allegiance had always been to the Earl of Grantham, a simple fact which she both appreciated and respected. But she had realized very early on, as Carson himself had, that they were often of one mind about things. They were natural allies and if, on occasion, he had taken His Lordship's part against her, she acknowledged it as a reflection of his higher calling of loyalty and not held it against him. She was proud of him today. Though he was flouting a time-honoured tradition in marrying, yet he did so with characteristic regard for the correct forms. In this, as in almost everything, he was a model for all of Downton.

Violet had no specific attachment to Mrs. Hughes, beyond an appreciation for the woman's many skills and fundamental common sense, a widely underestimated virtue. Though not effusive in her sentiments about the woman, the Dowager was nevertheless sincere in her regard. And in this moment, she had only the warmest wishes for the housekeeper and hoped that she might derive great pleasure from this momentous change in her life. Certainly she had made a very sound choice in her soon-to-be husband. Sadly, such a level of wisdom was not as common as one might have hoped.

As her eyes fell on the bride, Lady Edith felt a pang of anguish. She remembered that walk up the aisle. Those few minutes had been perhaps the most exciting of her life, and among the happiest. She had been bursting with anticipation, overflowing with joy at the prospect of joining everyone else, of becoming a member in the club of the married. She had stood apart in so many ways for much of her life. Enter Sir Anthony Strallan, her knight, come to rescue her from that lonely existence. She had adored him and thought he adored her. And then it had all fallen to pieces. The collapse had taken less time than the traditional procession up the aisle, but those agonizing few moments before the altar occupied a larger-than-life area of her memory, never to be erased.

But there would be no disaster for Mrs. Hughes. Edith had watched Carson in those few minutes before the music began, standing there at the front of the church, engaged in earnest whispered deliberations with Papa. Carson was nervous, yes, but eager. It was funny how she had never appreciated that Carson might be a man like any other, capable of falling in love, and of harbouring a passion rivaling that of any man Edith's age. There would be no second thoughts here, no abandonment at the altar. The Carsons would go off together at the end of this day in a state of wedded bliss the like of which Edith could still only just dream.

Isobel Crawley was enjoying herself. This wedding might have inspired her to wistful regret about the state of her own love life, but no one was more capable of pushing such feelings to the rear and living in the moment than she. The atmosphere in the church was light and happy. Everyone present was delighted for the bride and the groom, and so they should be. Isobel was especially pleased for Mrs. Hughes, the staff member at Downton Abbey with whom, save Molelsey, she was best acquainted. She saw more of Carson, but he remained aloof and was, after all, far too much Violet's creature ever to win Isobel's heart completely, however much she might respect him. But she had worked with Mrs. Hughes on a few projects - notably Ethel Parks and Charles Grigg - and felt they were of like minds, or spirits anyway. Mrs. Hughes was a good woman who ought to be happy, and all indications were that in marrying Carson she would be. Isobel could not have been more delighted. And wasn't that a lovely dress she was wearing!

It was natural, of course, as the bride entered the church to look her way and Lady Mary did so, instinctively, but also deliberately, having a personal interest in the bride's dress. Anna and Baxter had managed things superbly, she noted. The dress was a critical success. For once Mrs. Hughes looked bright and happy. Mary was glad for her.

But her gaze quickly reverted to Carson. She was the only person in the church who was watching the groom as he watched the bride make her way up the aisle. And she saw in his countenance the look she had glimpsed that day at the cottage, now on full display for he was at his most unguarded here. Like Mrs. Hughes, Mary saw the look of adoration in his eyes and recognized it for what it was. He truly loved Mrs. Hughes and he was so very happy this day. Tears formed in Mary's eyes at this revelation. She loved him, as she hardly ever explicitly admitted, even to herself, and her heart was bursting with happiness. And she felt just a little pang of guilt for having caused him any grief over this great event. She could and would attend to that later. In the moment, she could only bask in the glow of his overwhelming joy.

The Escort

Mr. Bates was taking his job very seriously. For once he saw an advantage to his limp because it kept their pace moderate. Mrs. Hughes might otherwise have let her nerves accelerate their progress. She had gripped his arm so tightly as they came into the church, an understandable reflection of her heightened emotional state. And then he felt the tension ease and glanced down to see her chin up and her eyes fixed well beyond them on Mr. Carson at the front of the church. At this, Bates allowed himself a small smile, proud of her courage. Like Mrs. Hughes, he did not like being the centre of attention, but he dismissed his discomfort with a reminder that he was doing this for her and was glad about it. And besides, all eyes were really on her.

Well, all eyes but Anna's. He thought he could feel her eyes boring into him from her seat in the second row on the left. His smile broadened just thinking about her. As they came abreast of her, still he did not look her way, but he gave a little nod, just to let her know he knew she was there. He was looking forward to hearing what she had to say about his surprise.

And then they were at the front and he was handing Mrs. Hughes over to a glowing Mr. Carson. Bates had never seen the man so emotionally unfettered. But there he was radiating happiness and pride and delight. Well, Bates knew what love did to a man. As he released her arm, Bates bent down to whisper in Mrs. Hughes's ear. "Good luck," he said, and then beat as discrete a retreat as it was possible to make. He stepped back to the second row where Anna obligingly moved in to accommodate him. And finally he glanced down at her and met her gaze for the first time since he had entered the church. Her sparkling green eyes danced with a satisfaction all her own, her heart full of love for this man of honour who stood beside her. She slipped her arm around his and he grinned at her. Then they turned their attention to the front of the church.

Them

Now they stood at the altar rail together, with Mr. Travis before them, each in the moment speechless in wonder and able to communicate only through deep looks of loving longing.

Carson found himself almost in shock, overwhelmed by his bride's extraordinary beauty, humbled that she was honouring him with the promise of becoming his wife. They had known each other for thirty years, ever since she had come to Downton as head housemaid. It had taken him almost thirty years to realize what she was and could be to him. They could not afford this kind of reserve, this leisurely approach to each other, any more. As he gazed into those captivating blue eyes, now staring at him with more open affection than he had ever known them to show, he silently resolved there, before her and more importantly before God, that he would never be so dilatory again. He would seize every opportunity to show her in every meaningful way how very much he loved her.

Mrs. Hughes stood mesmerized by his great dark eyes from which his boundless love for her poured forth so freely. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that she loved him every bit as much as he did her. How could she ever have doubted herself? This was what came of playing her cards so close to her chest, always guarding against hurt. She had almost deceived herself. He had coaxed her out into the open, this blustering bear of man, and she must now, and always, respond to him in kind. She here silently pledged before him, and before God, too, that she would open her heart to him so that he might never have cause to doubt the depths of her love.

The marriage rites of the Church of England were comfortingly familiar to them both, although more so to him as a son of that denomination. She was pleased and relieved to hear a steadiness in her voice as she spoke her vows. If she sounded not quite normal and natural, well, that was all right, too. These were extraordinary circumstances and they demanded an unusual level of solemnity.

"For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, 'til death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance..."

At the appropriate moment, the best man stepped forward, smoothly handed the ring into the surprisingly still hands of the groom, and then withdrew as gracefully as though he had played a supporting role all of his life. In those few seconds, Robert reflected proudly on Carson's steadiness, which had been the hallmark of his professionalism in a half-century of service.

He took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger with ease - it fit perfectly! - though his gaze never wavered from hers as he spoke those old words that had for ages past bound couples together in love.

"With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, with all my worldly goods I thee endow."

"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen."

He uttered these words with a gravity that reflected the deep emotional investment of his great heart in this commitment, so long coming.

Then they were, as Mr. Travis pronounced them, "man and wife together" and they kissed.

They kissed right there, before the altar of God, and Mr. Travis. In front of the family and all their friends and well-wishers, this most private and discrete of all couples shared an intimate moment with the multitudes, and were never more oblivious to them all.

She had clung to Mr. Bates on the way up the aisle, but as they made their way back, with her now enjoying meeting the eyes of the myriad faces turned their way, they walked together freely, side by side, but not arm in arm. This was important to her. She was overcome with a sense of freedom, more freedom now, rather than less, as the weight of apprehensions and anticipation vanished in the face of blissful reality. They were husband and wife now, and she knew she had never wanted anything more.

He was swept with the unexpected exhilaration of freedom as well, freedom from the inhibitions he had lived with almost all of his adult life, all those formal restrictions he had observed for so long that he had stopped distinguishing between them and his true nature.

But now he brushed them off easily and on the church steps, as the bagpipes wailed (not his idea, she had wanted them), and those who hadn't gotten into the church pelted them with rice, he turned and bent to kiss her. Again. Right there in the full glare of a cheering crowd. A few yards on, the impulse gripped him again - it was going to take forever to walk to the schoolhouse at this rate - and this time she surprised him by anticipating him and reaching up to meet his kiss.

They were now, in the eyes of God and of this congregation, well and truly stuck with each other. And neither could have been happier.

THE END

Author's Note: It had been my intention to write this through the wedding breakfast, but this seems like a better place to end it. As for the next stage in the relationship between Mr. Carson and Mrs Hughes (now Mrs. Carson), I have in mind to write a honeymoon story in several chapters. It is in process now.

Thank you to all readers of this story. Thank you, especially, to all reviewers. One can never say it too often: reviews are a stimulus to writing. If you find yourself reading a story - anyone's story - and desperately wanting to know what happens next, write a review. All writers appreciate them. I know that those who have reviewed my stories have played a role in getting me to the next level. EC