This isn't a familiar A/U setting...
but, whoops, I might have added book reading... *head desk*
I couldn't resist the cheesy title. :)
Title: Keep Calm and Call Carson
Rated: T
(300) words fluff
It was almost midnight when Charles finally headed for Elsie’s parlour. The family had retired a little over two hours ago, and now most of the servants had also returned to the attics. Only the scullery maids, the housekeeper and the butler stayed on below stairs.
Charles opened the door quietly; Elsie had a habit of dozing on the settee.
He peeked around the door and was greeted by a small scream.
“Mr Carson!” Elsie cried, clutching at her neck. “You gave me such a fright.”
“You were expecting someone else, Mrs Hughes?” he gently teased.
Then, he noticed her darning was covering a book in her lap.
He cleared his throat and snatched up the novel before she had a chance to hide it in the folds of her skirt.
“If I was Mr Holmes, I would presume that this is the reason for your jittery nerves tonight, Mrs Hughes.”
She reached out for the offending item, but he brushed her hands away.
“Let me see: Dracula by Bram Stoker. Can I hazard a guess this is not a romance?”
Her lips pursed.
“You said you should read Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde because it was written by Stevenson. Is this Mr Stoker also Scottish?”
She carefully placed her darning onto her side table.
“No,” she admitted slowly. “But I believe he is Irish.”
“Perhaps no Englishman would come up with stories to deliberately frighten a lady in the middle of the night.”
“Perhaps you should be thanking your Celtic neighbours, rather than mocking them. After all, if I get very scared, Mr Carson, I shall rely on you to calm me.”
He leaned over and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
“I shall do my best to alleviate your tension, Mrs Hughes.”
I couldn't resist the cheesy title. :)
Title: Keep Calm and Call Carson
Rated: T
(300) words fluff
It was almost midnight when Charles finally headed for Elsie’s parlour. The family had retired a little over two hours ago, and now most of the servants had also returned to the attics. Only the scullery maids, the housekeeper and the butler stayed on below stairs.
Charles opened the door quietly; Elsie had a habit of dozing on the settee.
He peeked around the door and was greeted by a small scream.
“Mr Carson!” Elsie cried, clutching at her neck. “You gave me such a fright.”
“You were expecting someone else, Mrs Hughes?” he gently teased.
Then, he noticed her darning was covering a book in her lap.
He cleared his throat and snatched up the novel before she had a chance to hide it in the folds of her skirt.
“If I was Mr Holmes, I would presume that this is the reason for your jittery nerves tonight, Mrs Hughes.”
She reached out for the offending item, but he brushed her hands away.
“Let me see: Dracula by Bram Stoker. Can I hazard a guess this is not a romance?”
Her lips pursed.
“You said you should read Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde because it was written by Stevenson. Is this Mr Stoker also Scottish?”
She carefully placed her darning onto her side table.
“No,” she admitted slowly. “But I believe he is Irish.”
“Perhaps no Englishman would come up with stories to deliberately frighten a lady in the middle of the night.”
“Perhaps you should be thanking your Celtic neighbours, rather than mocking them. After all, if I get very scared, Mr Carson, I shall rely on you to calm me.”
He leaned over and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
“I shall do my best to alleviate your tension, Mrs Hughes.”