MAINSAIL FIC
For the lovebelowstairs Battleships challenge....
Alone in the courtyard with nothing but the hoot of a distant owl and his thoughts, Bates leant against the wall. Sometimes he wished he still smoked, it would have given him something to do with his hands instead of his fingers drumming incessantly on the brickwork behind him.
Nearly three years it had taken them to get this far and still his conscience was riddled with doubt. Every corner he turned seemed to greet him with a wall greater than he could climb. As it was, they were taking risks, getting caught would likely cost them both their jobs. Then where would they be? Homeless and with nothing but the clothes they owned and not a chance of either obtaining other employment. If he was to leave Downton, could they have a relationship, meet at every opportunity in secret? It wouldn’t do. Or would she go with him? He couldn’t ask it of her, he wouldn’t ask it of her. If she offered, what then? Turn her down, keep telling himself he could live without her, not see her every day, the way she would laugh and touch his arm when she found something he said funny...then was the problem of his marital status.
“Mr Bates?” A soft call from the door to the kitchen, “Won’t you come inside, it’s getting late, you’ll catch a chill.”
Mrs Hughes, a kindly lady he had thought on first meeting her, only to have his suspicions proved correct when she made him see sense over that silly limp corrector. We all have scars, inside or out He wandered what hers might be at the time, a little later through the vicious gossip of Thomas and O’brien, he had an idea. ”Yes, quite right, Mrs Hughes.” He said with a smile. Pushing himself from the wall he followed her inside.
The kitchen was empty, but then it was late, the others would have turned in for the night. He did well to hide his disappointment that Anna was no-where to be seen. Sometimes they would stay up later, he’d put another log on the fire and she’d make a warm drink. Often they would read together or just companionably discuss the goings on in the house that day.
“Would you care for some tea, Mr Bates?” Mrs Hughes asked going to the stove, “I think I might take a drop before going to bed and Anna is sill up with the ladies. They retired much later than usual tonight.
“That would be lovely.” Bates nodded, taking a seat at the table, his disappointment long forgotten. He knew that she would come to him tonight, but somehow, them sitting before bed, made it all seem so less, sordid. like they would retire to bed together, rather than a late night tryst.
Mrs Hughes turned to him once she had settled the kettle on the flame, “You seemed away with your thoughts out there in the yard, Mr Bates. Are you alright?”
“Yes, Mrs Hughes, quite alright.” He smiled at her, “Nothing like a sky full of stars to have a man away with his thoughts.”
Mrs Hughes chuckled and turned her attention back to the kettle and went about making them tea. Settling the teapot and three cups and saucers on the table, she sat down opposite him. “I thought Anna make take a cup, she must be on her way down by now.” She said, looking up at the clock.
Bates turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, “I think you might be right Mrs Hughes.” He laughed.
“Now then, would you believe how much Lady Sybil can talk?” Anna said as she blustered into the room, “I thought I was never going to get to bed the night!”
Both Mrs Hughes and Bates laughed heartily at her mock outrage. “Can I pour you a cup, Anna?” Mrs Hughes asked.
“Yes, I should like a drop of tea before going up.” She replied, stealing a glance at Mr Bates.
He caught the look in her eyes, a fleeting flash of longing, desire. Clearing his throat which felt suddenly constricted, he took a sip from his cup. She took a seat next to him, her knee brushing against his. He knew better than to think it an accident, when he felt her fingertips trace the length of his thigh. It was a bold move, even for Anna. He could have sworn he heard her swallow a giggle.
Shifting away from her discretely Bates picked up his cup once again and drained the last of his tea, “I shall turn in for the night, Mrs. Hughes, Anna. Goodnight and thank you for the tea.”
“Goodnight, Mr Bates.”
At the entrance to the kitchen , he looked back over his shoulder, letting Anna know to follow him shortly.
Alone in the courtyard with nothing but the hoot of a distant owl and his thoughts, Bates leant against the wall. Sometimes he wished he still smoked, it would have given him something to do with his hands instead of his fingers drumming incessantly on the brickwork behind him.
Nearly three years it had taken them to get this far and still his conscience was riddled with doubt. Every corner he turned seemed to greet him with a wall greater than he could climb. As it was, they were taking risks, getting caught would likely cost them both their jobs. Then where would they be? Homeless and with nothing but the clothes they owned and not a chance of either obtaining other employment. If he was to leave Downton, could they have a relationship, meet at every opportunity in secret? It wouldn’t do. Or would she go with him? He couldn’t ask it of her, he wouldn’t ask it of her. If she offered, what then? Turn her down, keep telling himself he could live without her, not see her every day, the way she would laugh and touch his arm when she found something he said funny...then was the problem of his marital status.
“Mr Bates?” A soft call from the door to the kitchen, “Won’t you come inside, it’s getting late, you’ll catch a chill.”
Mrs Hughes, a kindly lady he had thought on first meeting her, only to have his suspicions proved correct when she made him see sense over that silly limp corrector. We all have scars, inside or out He wandered what hers might be at the time, a little later through the vicious gossip of Thomas and O’brien, he had an idea. ”Yes, quite right, Mrs Hughes.” He said with a smile. Pushing himself from the wall he followed her inside.
The kitchen was empty, but then it was late, the others would have turned in for the night. He did well to hide his disappointment that Anna was no-where to be seen. Sometimes they would stay up later, he’d put another log on the fire and she’d make a warm drink. Often they would read together or just companionably discuss the goings on in the house that day.
“Would you care for some tea, Mr Bates?” Mrs Hughes asked going to the stove, “I think I might take a drop before going to bed and Anna is sill up with the ladies. They retired much later than usual tonight.
“That would be lovely.” Bates nodded, taking a seat at the table, his disappointment long forgotten. He knew that she would come to him tonight, but somehow, them sitting before bed, made it all seem so less, sordid. like they would retire to bed together, rather than a late night tryst.
Mrs Hughes turned to him once she had settled the kettle on the flame, “You seemed away with your thoughts out there in the yard, Mr Bates. Are you alright?”
“Yes, Mrs Hughes, quite alright.” He smiled at her, “Nothing like a sky full of stars to have a man away with his thoughts.”
Mrs Hughes chuckled and turned her attention back to the kettle and went about making them tea. Settling the teapot and three cups and saucers on the table, she sat down opposite him. “I thought Anna make take a cup, she must be on her way down by now.” She said, looking up at the clock.
Bates turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, “I think you might be right Mrs Hughes.” He laughed.
“Now then, would you believe how much Lady Sybil can talk?” Anna said as she blustered into the room, “I thought I was never going to get to bed the night!”
Both Mrs Hughes and Bates laughed heartily at her mock outrage. “Can I pour you a cup, Anna?” Mrs Hughes asked.
“Yes, I should like a drop of tea before going up.” She replied, stealing a glance at Mr Bates.
He caught the look in her eyes, a fleeting flash of longing, desire. Clearing his throat which felt suddenly constricted, he took a sip from his cup. She took a seat next to him, her knee brushing against his. He knew better than to think it an accident, when he felt her fingertips trace the length of his thigh. It was a bold move, even for Anna. He could have sworn he heard her swallow a giggle.
Shifting away from her discretely Bates picked up his cup once again and drained the last of his tea, “I shall turn in for the night, Mrs. Hughes, Anna. Goodnight and thank you for the tea.”
“Goodnight, Mr Bates.”
At the entrance to the kitchen , he looked back over his shoulder, letting Anna know to follow him shortly.