As always the characters don't belong to me and I make no money wrtiting about them.

This story is once again dedicated to the amazing Kouw, who never fails to provide valuable advice and encouragement. This story is also a thank you to chelsie fan, who is not only a brilliant author, but also listened to me at a very low point in my life. Thank you so much!

This story comes with a teeny tiny spoiler warning. Really, if you don't want to know about a one-second shot of Elsie in the trailer and the rumour about a shooting location, you shouldn't read it. I don't really think what we know so far constitutes as spoilers, but better safe than sorry.

Leap of Faith

Elsie Hughes took in the splendour surrounding her and yet couldn't help but feel that this time everything was different. What a joyous occasion Lady Mary's first nuptials had been – and how much more subdued this second ceremony was going to be. In her heart Elsie Hughes was convinced that Lady Mary had chosen the right man. Their love for each other might not compare to what she had shared with the late Mr. Crawley, but it had the potential to evolve into something wonderful.

Downton's housekeeper looked around her at the small crowd gathered in the village church. Only the closest family and friends had been invited to the ceremony that was to be held by Mr. Travis. The Lady of the hour was – of course – still missing and would probably be fashionably late once again.

This also meant that the seat next to Mrs. Hughes was still empty as well. She had saved it for him because she knew that he'd want to catch a glimpse of the bride as she left the house.

What she didn't know was whether he would actually occupy the seat next to her once he arrived.

For weeks now their relationship had been strained. Ever since that fateful day on which the police had showed up at Downton demanding to speak to Mr. Bates. Ever since the day that the whole miserable story of Mr. Green and Anna had been made public… ever since the day that he had looked at her with such hurt in his eyes. Such hurt and such anger over not having been included, over not having been allowed to help.

She had tried to explain the why and how to him in desperate tones, but he hadn't been prepared to listen. He certainly hadn't been prepared to accept her vow to Anna as any sort of excuse or explanation. And so – after countless attempts of getting him to listen, getting him to not erect the walls around him again – she had conceded defeat and left him alone.

Gone were the days of shared wine and tea, of conversation and laughter, of innocent banter and barbed words. Even the dimmest of kitchen maids had by now picked up on the altered relationship between butler and housekeeper. Their work didn't suffer, of course it didn't, but apart from discussing menus and planning parties, their interaction with each other was kept to an absolute minimum.

She couldn't have anticipated how much she would miss him. The staff often thought that it was her who helped to calm and control him, but now she knew that their joint evenings weren't just about him. Nothing helped her relax more than listening to his deep baritone voice recounting the day's events. She wasn't as strong as everyone – herself included – had thought and in her weakest moments she had caught herself slipping into his pantry in the hope of catching a whiff of his smell – that wonderful combination of hair pomade, sandal wood and polishing cream that smelled of home and security.

She didn't know why she expected today to be different from the last weeks but she was convinced that he wouldn't be angry enough to not sit next to her in church. They had always sat together – at weddings, christenings and funerals. They had shared joy and laughter and quiet, imperceptible tears.

A murmur went through the church; the groom had just entered and taken his place in the front – making idle chit chat to Mr. Travis in a vain attempt to disguise his nerves. It was his first wedding after all.

Mrs. Hughes craned her neck and looked around the church once again. It was fuller now. Certainly fuller than she had expected it to be. She let her eyes glide over the pews until they came to a sharp halt.

There he was – tall, proud, distinguished – and sitting five rows behind her, wedged between Mr. Bates and the end of the pew.

Elsie Hughes turned around quickly, slowly inching outward in her pew, desperately trying to cover up the open space next to her. Why she was even making this futile attempt she didn't know. Everyone around her was aware that she had saved the place for Mr. Carson. No one had dared sit down because they knew that Downton's butler and housekeeper always sat together.

Tears of hurt and humiliation gathered in her eyes as she stared straight ahead, refusing to look at anyone else in the church for fear of catching their curious and – worst of all – pitying glances. She took a deep, steadying breath but to her own consternation the tears wouldn't disappear.

"Mrs. Patmore," her voice was surprisingly steady, "I've just realized that I forgot to check on something, I will be right back." Downton's cook looked at her in confusion but thankfully refrained from asking about Mrs. Hughes' vague explanation.

She made her way out of church with even and strident steps, looking at no one. She would be eternally grateful that Lady Mary hadn't chosen that exact moment to make her entrance.

Once outside she looked around wildly. She could feel a burning sensation in the back of her throat and knew that it was only a matter of seconds before her tears would make their way down her cheeks. She needed somewhere private, secluded. The church yard.

He watched her closely as she made her way out of the church.

He had arrived late with Anna – both waiting for Lady Mary to be put into the car before making their own way to church. The decision to sit separately from her had been a spontaneous thing. When he had entered the church, he had immediately seen her sitting in the first pew behind the family and he had seen that a place had been saved for him – but somehow he couldn't make his body walk forward to sit next to her.

He had been so unbelievably hurt and angered by the fact that she had kept Anna's secret and the subsequent events from him. He was the butler, he should have been informed. He should have been given the chance to protect those under his care – other housemaids, Anna. Prevent Mr. Bates from making a terrible mistake. He should have played a vital role in helping the house deal with this terrible crisis.

But he had been banned to the side-lines – he hadn't even noticed that something was seriously amiss. He had made a fool of himself when the police had shown up and he – the head of staff – had been unaware of what the officers talked about. He had been gaping like a fish out of water when Mrs. Hughes had quickly intervened and led the police officers into her sitting room – not his pantry. It was only then that he had found out about Mr. Green, about Anna and the suspicions against Mr. Bates.

And she had stood there, mouth pulled into a grim line, not in the least bit shocked by the police's revelations. It was then that he had realized that she had known. She had known and hadn't told him. She had preferred to deal with the situation on her own, without his help.

He had always trusted her to involve him in the more serious conflicts downstairs – but apparently that trust had been unfounded. He shouldn't have trusted her because she clearly didn't trust him.

Oh, she had tried to explain herself – in varying degrees of agitation. She had spoken of Anna's distress and threats, of her promise to the young Lady's Maid. He had almost been ready to forgive her when she had let it slip that it had been her who had informed both Mr. Bates and Lady Mary about the situation. So obviously it had been possible for her to break her promise – just not for him.

He had listened to her, his face a stony mask and when she had finished and implored him to understand, he had simply turned around and walked away, left her standing in his pantry without looking back.

How could he have explained his feeling of betrayal to her? And that was what he felt most – betrayed. She had forced him to address his past issues, had forcibly installed herself in his life and demanded him to accept her help and support. She had made him believe that theirs was a relationship of mutual trust and support – only now he was forced to realize that for her he was only another of her little charity projects, another lost soul she had to tend to. She didn't need him, had never needed him (hadn't she proven that when she thought she was ill?) but she had managed to make him believe that he needed her – to keep him steady, to make his way in a changed world that frightened him sometimes.

She was wrong. He didn't need her. He would show her, had shown her in the last weeks. No matter how often she had tried to tentatively talk to him, he had kept their conversation focussed strictly on the house and the staff.

He needed some time to regroup, to think about what had happened and to rebuild some of the walls she had torn down in recent years. He needed to return his focus on the staff – too much had been missed by him recently. He couldn't believe that he hadn't picked up on Anna's unlikely story, on her discomfort, on Mr. Bates dark and brooding mood. He blamed her for his lack of awareness, for the shame he felt about his gross oversight.

He was and would only ever be the butler – and as such it was time he took his job and duty more seriously again.

Still, there was something in her face as she made her way out of the church that tugged at that small, tender place in his heart that only she had ever managed to reach. She didn't show any overt signs of distress but there was something about her eyes, about the way she held her shoulders just a bit too stiffly, that caught his attention. He was barely able to refrain from turning around to watch where she was heading, his fingers digging painfully into his legs.

"You should know," Mr. Bates' quiet voice suddenly broke into his musings, "that I had to threaten her to make her reveal Anna's secret to me."

Mr. Carson's head whipped around so quickly that he felt an uncomfortable pull in his neck. "What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes narrowing at the younger man next to him.

"I'm not proud of what I did, but I was desperate. I pressured Mrs. Hughes into telling me. She wouldn't at first, but in the end I was convincing… or rather forceful enough." Mr. Bates looked around him to check whether anyone – most of all Anna – was listening in on their conversation. When he was convinced that Anna was happily talking to Miss Baxter and no one else was paying them much attention, he continued. "You should also know that she only told Lady Mary because I was supposed to accompany his Lordship to America and she was afraid of what Anna might do was she to be left alone."

"Thank you for confiding in me Mr. Bates and I do think we should talk about your behaviour towards Mrs. Hughes at some later time, but your explanations don't really change anything," Mr. Carson replied in a flat voice, his eyes staring straight ahead again.

"Maybe not, Mr. Carson, but as I said, I thought you should know."

She stood at the far end of the church yard, shaded by trees. Her sightless gaze was settled on the ornate gravestones in front of her – silent monuments of love, affection and gratitude.

She didn't fall apart; it would never do for Downton's housekeeper to oversee the wedding festivities with red and swollen eyes, a stuffed nose.

She only allowed a few tears to escape her eyes, but even those few pearls of emotion helped to ease the pain in her heart. She hadn't heard the organ yet so that meant that the bride had still not entered the church. There was time yet to slip back inside and put on a brave face as she watched two people pledge their love for each other.

"Is everything alright?" Charles Carson's deep baritone voice seemed to reverberate through the small church yard and caused her to stand straighter with a start. She had expected many things, but him following her outside hadn't been one of them.

She didn't turn around as she took a moment to deliberate over her answer. She wouldn't insult his intelligence by claiming that she was fine (as she had done on other occasions) but she didn't think she could discuss her feelings with him here… now.

He quietly watched her as she stood with her back to him. She clearly hadn't expected him and had tensed when he had spoken.

He cursed his foolish heart for causing him to go after her and he cursed her for rendering his heart foolish. Still, he needed to give her this last chance to prove to him that his support did mean something to her. If she opened up to him now, they might just manage to salvage their friendship. If she closed herself off, he would know what to do. His heart could stop being foolish and return to its solitary state of inactivity and unfeelingness.

In the end she decided to simply evade his question. "Mr. Carson, you shouldn't be out here. You might miss the wedding and I know you'd be loath to do so. You needn't worry about me, go back inside and we can talk tonight after the celebrations have ended." She was somewhat proud of how well her voice hid the tears she had shed moments before.

His hands balled into fists at his sides as he listened to her gentle dismissal. "Very well, Mrs. Hughes. You needn't bother coming to my pantry tonight, though. There is nothing more to be said between us."

It was his cold voice much more than what he said that finally caused her to turn around. She took in his stiff posture, the grim line in which his mouth was set – but most of all she flinched when she looked into his steely eyes, which had no warmth left in them.

"What do you mean, Mr. Carson?" she asked and her voice shook ever so slightly. Too late she realized that she couldn't have given a worse reply to his initial question if she had tried.

"Nothing much, Mrs. Hughes. I've told you before that I sometimes wonder whether I am a sad, old fool. You've provided an admirably clear answer in the past few weeks. I shall not question you again; I have finally understood you completely."

He turned around and made to leave but she couldn't let him go like that.

"Mr. Carson, wait! I don't know what you think you understood my meaning to be, but you got it wrong!" She hurried towards him but took a step back again in shock when he suddenly sailed around. He advanced towards her – an angry and hurt bear of a man.

"And what is it I understood wrongly?" he roared angrily. Mrs. Hughes was glad that the church yard was surrounded by brick walls and would most likely absorb most of his outburst. "You should have told me! What would you have done had Mr. Green decided to pick another victim? What would you have done had Mr. Bates not had a perfectly innocent explanation for his trip to London? How could you have lived with yourself then?"

Mrs. Hughes' eyes filled with angry tears as she listened to his reproaches. She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off before she had the chance.

"I know you promised Anna, I know that! You should have trusted me enough to know that I would have handled the matter with due care. I've been butler for much longer than you have been housekeeper. Whether you want to or not: you can't do everything on your own! You're not infallible. You've risked the welfare of the house you serve and its inhabitants. I know you are an independent woman; you need no one and certainly not me…" Here he suddenly broke off and Mrs. Hughes couldn't shake off the feeling that he had done it in order to avoid getting to the heart of the matter.

"Let's not fool ourselves, Mrs. Hughes. You'll never need my hand to feel steady and I'm tired of always being the one who has to open up. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a wedding to attend." He looked her deeply in the eyes, his hazel ones swimming with emotions. And just as suddenly as he had established the connection between them, he broke it again. Before Mrs. Hughes was able to react in any way, he turned around and marched back towards the church.

Charles Carson couldn't thank his lucky stars enough. Just as he arrived back at the main entrance Lady Mary and Lord Grantham took their position to enter. He waited discreetly next to a tree until bride and father had entered and then slipped inside before the doors were closed again. He decided to stay standing in the back so as not to draw too much attention to his late re-entrance.

Although his heart was still hammering painfully from his confrontation with the housekeeper, a gentle smile played on his face as he watched Lady Mary glide through the church to meet her second husband. Her dress was simple, no veil covered her face this time and yet to him she was beauty and grace personified. He was incredibly grateful that after the loss of her first husband she had found a second man to love her. He was convinced that their marriage would be defined by mutual respect and eventual happiness.

Just as Lady Mary reached her groom and the congregation rose for the first song, he felt a small hand slip into his. He turned his head with a start and was met with the housekeeper's teary blue eyes that looked at him with insecure hopefulness. He hadn't even noticed her slipping in behind him.

He took a deep breath, his hand still hanging limply. The first chords of Jerusalem filled the air when Mrs. Hughes lowered her eyes dejectedly and began to remove her hand.

He quickly closed his large paw around her delicate fingers. She looked up again in surprise and a single tear made its way down her face as she looked into his gentle eyes. He had understood.

He tenderly squeezed her hand, incredibly thankful for her small gesture, and together they turned to the front where Mr. Travis began the ceremony after the hymn had ended – their joined hands reflecting the exchange of vows in the front of the church.

Thank you for taking the time to read the story. I'd appreciate a review if you have the time. Thank you!