Chapter Text
Thomas
His left hand was hurting something awful. It was a dull but unrelenting ache that wouldn’t let up. There must be rain coming soon, within the next two days, he guessed.
Thomas let out a small sigh as he realized he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the rest of Dame Nellie Melba’s performance. He wasn’t the biggest fan of opera, but he respected it and could recognize a great voice when he heard one, at least. It was just a shame that he wouldn't be able to sit through anymore of his hand aching.
His injury hadn’t been deemed severe enough to warrant on-going medication upon the end of the war, so he was stuck with the same generic house hold medicine as everyone else. Well, medicine and the whiskey he had stored under his bed, but that was for later in the night. He had to stay alert enough to end the night respectably. So, off he went downstairs to the staff medicine cupboard, for an aspirin tablet. He took care to exit the main hall without bringing any attention to himself, mindful of the performance still going on. Although he didn’t know why he bothered with his careful movements, it’s not like anyone would notice him leaving anyway.
As Thomas walked down the servant’s stairwell he was pleased to realize that he could still hear Dame Nellie Melba’s voice quite clearly. That was a nice surprise.
Except he could hear something else as well, it was growing louder as he descended the stairs. A woman crying? A woman crying and screaming!? He recognized the voice too, it was Anna.
Thomas froze just shy of the last landing as he watched Mr. Green drag Anna into the boot room. They hadn’t seen him, but Anna was clearly in distress, screaming her head off. God in heaven, was Mr. Green really about to do what it sounded like he was?
And the music from upstairs was still so damn loud, drowning out Anna’s cries for help.
No one else can hear her, he realized, almost numb from the shock of what he was witnessing.
“NO! PLEASE!” he heard Anna cry from behind the door and that forced him into action. He didn’t think after that, he just acted. Descending the rest of the stairs as fast as he could, sprinting to the boot room door and throwing it open.
The sight before him was both worse and better than he thought it would be, Anna was being held down by her wrists on the polishing table, with Mr. Green over top of her and using his weight to hold her in place. Her face was a mess of bruises and scratches, clearly from fighting, but not having the strength to throw off her assailant. They were both still clothed below the waist he noted. Thank God, freezing up in shock hadn’t made him too late.
“Thomas!” was the first word screamed from Anna’s mouth. She was almost in hysterics.
“Please, help me, please! I’m not- I don’t want this, I swear! He was trying to- he was-.”
The first words from Thomas’ own mouth were, “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing Mr. Green?!”
Mr. Green had frozen up, no doubt stunned from the shock of being caught and Anna took that moment to break free her right wrist and rake her nails across his face, managing to draw some blood.
Then all hell broke loose.
Thomas had never been much of a fighter, but he was bigger than Mr. Green and he could recognize an attempted rape clear as day. He didn’t remember much about that fight, but he did remember decking Mr. Green as hard as he could and taking a retaliatory kick to the stomach. Everything after that was a blur.
Anna must have gotten down from the table at some point, because he remembers her screaming at him to stop.
“Stop! Thomas, stop! You don’t want to get sent to jail for murder do you!?”
Thomas came back to himself after that comment, his hands were bloody and Mr. Green’s face was bloody. But he was still breathing and trying to fight back.
He needed to put some distance between them, so he gave Mr. Green a strong shove into one of the shelves, spilling its contents over him as he cried out.
He looked at Anna then and they seemed to decide through eye contact to flee the room.
They slammed the door closed behind them and Thomas held the knob tightly, thinking about what their next course of action should be. The door had a latch for a padlock on it. They didn’t have one on them, but then Thomas remembered the conversation he had with Mr. Carson that morning, about clearing out the landscaper’s sheds.
That was their solution; they could just lock the bastard inside.
“Anna, listen I know you’re hurting right now. But we need to keep Mr. Green contained. On Mr. Carson’s desk, there’s a lock and key, from one of the sheds, remember from his instructions to me this morning over breakfast? Go grab the lock from Mr. Carson’s desk. We can lock this bastard in ‘ere and he won’t be able to hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
Anna didn’t acknowledge Thomas’ plan with words, but she did run off in the direction of Mr. Carson’s office just as Mr. Green started furiously twisting the doorknob and banging on the door.
“Let me out of here you goddamn tart!”
Thomas held fast to the door, which wasn’t easy between his bloodied right knuckles and aching left hand. But he held on, unwilling to let Mr. Green potentially run off and disappear into the night without facing the consequences of his deplorable actions.
“Who are you calling a tart Mr. Green? Sounds like you're a bit upset that you couldn’t convince a married woman to sleep with you. Losing your charm in yer middle age, eh?” Goading him probably wasn’t the smartest move, because the banging on the door and swearing increased, but Thomas couldn’t help himself.
“Let me out of here, you fucking cock-sucker!”
Ouch, that one stung a little. Thomas briefly wondered if Mr. Green had picked up on his inclinations in the short time he was here, or if he just threw homophobic insults at every man who crossed him. He didn’t have long to ponder that though, as Anna rounded the corner and snapped the lock on the door, key in hand.
It was clear that Mr. Green had heard the lock click because his anger somehow increased tenfold.
“Let me out of here! LET ME THE FUCK OUT! Lord Gillingham will have your heads for this, seducing a man only to beat him and lock him in a godforsaken shoe cupboard!” He was screaming so loudly, Thomas half expected someone to bound down the stairs to his rescue, but nobody did. The concert was still going on upstairs and everyone was completely oblivious to what was happening down here.
“You fucking cunts, when I get out of here I’ll make you both pay! You’ll wish you were never born!” All this while banging on and rattling the door like a wild animal. Thomas was getting sick of his antics.
“Oh shut your mouth, you pervert, we both know that the only way you’re leaving this room is with police escorting you straight to prison. I know what I saw and while the law may not favor women in these matters, a witness and that mark ‘cross your face is gonna get you sent away for a long time.”
The banging stopped then and after a few beats of silence Mr. Green’s tone changed from angry to pleading, “I can pay you, please, whatever you want. I’ll get the amount. You know what it's like don't you, Mr. Barrow? Being smiled at all night by some pretty little thing, only for her to refuse you when you want to seal the deal?"
Disgusting.
Thomas’ looked over at Anna, she was shaking. “We shant be taking your money Mr. Green. And seeing as this will be your last night as a free man, why don’t you quiet down and reflect on your past sins. Maybe pray a little, perhaps God will have mercy on you, but I won’t.”
Mr. Green was silent after that, whether it was in defeat or a ploy to get on Thomas’ good side he didn’t know, but at least he’d stopped with the noise. Thomas could properly take stock of the situation now, with only the concert music impeding on the silence.
They were both breathing quite heavily, Thomas noticed, as he gently took the key from Anna to slide into his pocket. They both leaned against the wall opposite the boot room door. Anna was still shaking, he was a bit too. He could tell his own shakes were from adrenaline though, while Anna’s were both adrenaline and nerves.
“Anna, are you going to be alright?” he asked, hesitantly.
Anna looked up at him for a single silent moment. Her eyes were the most painful thing he’d seen in his life and Thomas had watched soldiers march to their known death for just shy of four years.
She didn’t say anything. She just started crying and Thomas understood.
“It’s alright Anna, he didn’t… you fought him off for long enough, he didn’t manage to finish what he started.”
Anna threw herself into his chest then and began properly sobbing. He let her cry, reminded briefly of when Mrs. Hughes had found him crying outside the back entrance and taken him to her office.
He rubbed her shoulders and back, he wasn’t sure what else to say, so he didn’t bother trying, beyond, “it’s alright,” and “you’re safe now.” Sometimes you just needed to have a good long cry and that was definitely what Anna needed right now.
Eventually, after maybe ten minutes, Anna did stop crying and Thomas took the opportunity to move things along. Herding her towards Mrs. Hughes’ room. He wondered briefly as they moved if Mr. Green had heard Anna’s cries and if he was even capable of feeling guilt that he was the sole cause of them.
“This way Anna, we’re gonna get you all nice and settled in Mrs. Hughes’s office, eh?” Thomas said, as he guided Anna down into a chair.
“Anna, you’re going to have to wait here while I go upstairs and get Mr. Bates, Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson, alright.” He could tell that she didn’t want to be left alone for even a moment, but he didn’t see another way.
“Don’t tell anyone else, please. Just those three.” She was looking a Thomas, but her eyes were a thousand miles away.
“I won’t. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.” Thomas promised, straightening himself out. He took a moment to steel his nerves, as well. It was unsettling to see Anna this quiet after hearing her nearly scream herself hoarse and then crying her eyes out less than a half hour ago.
There wasn’t exactly a silence between them in that moment, not really. The music was somehow still going upstairs. God, upstairs. How was he going to get himself to Mr. Carson’s side discreetly with the state he was in?
Luckily for both Thomas and Anna, his answer came down the stairs a moment later, as if by divine intervention.
“Thomas! Thomas, are you down here?” It was Jimmy, not quite shouting, but speaking loudly enough to be heard over the music.
Anna’s eyes locked with Thomas’, huge and terrified.
“I’ll handle it,” Thomas said quickly, reaching down to squeeze Anna’s shoulder for a moment before exiting the room. He closed the door behind him just as Jimmy reached the bottom of the stairs.
“There you are. Are you alright? I saw you walk away and I thought maybe the coming storm was bothering your ‘and. Do you need any-.” Jimmy cut himself off when his eyes adjusted to the lower light and he got a good look at Thomas.
“Crikey, Thomas. What’s happened to you? Have you been in a fight down 'ere?” Jimmy asked, looking around for Thomas’ opponent.
Jimmy’s concern was quite sweet and Thomas wanted to bask in the warmth of it for a moment, but they didn’t have time for all that. So, pushing the affection blooming in his chest down, he began.“Jimmy, listen to me. I need you to do something for me. No questions asked, alright? This is important and I promise I’ll explain what’s happened later. But right now, I need your help, please.”
The desperation in his tone or on his face must have come across well, because after a moment of silence all Jimmy said was, “Alright, what do you need from me, Mr. Barrow?”
Thomas exhaled a sigh of relief. Thank God Jimmy wasn’t asking anymore questions, he’d have to treat Jimmy to some of his whiskey later to show his appreciation.
“I need you to go upstairs and discreetly get Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Bates down here. Tell them Thomas says it’s an emergency, requiring the three of them and no one else. And that they must leave the hall as inconspicuously as possible. Don’t let Mr. Carson work himself up into a loud tizzy. If he starts asking questions, just tell him it’s a downstairs matter and not for the ears of our guests. And don’t come back down here with them, just stay upstairs and I’ll come find you before the night’s end. Can you do that for me, Jimmy?”
Jimmy nodded, his eyes on the door behind Thomas leading to Mrs. Hughes’ office. “’course, seems easy enough.”
Thomas could tell that Jimmy wanted to know who or what was in the room behind him, but he knew better than to ask. He just scurried off upstairs to complete his task, casting one more questioning glance at Thomas as he disappeared past the landing.
Thomas let out his third sigh of the night. This was going to be an awful mess to clean up and bury. He spared a moment to think of what Mr. Bates was going to do when he got down here and they explained everything to him. Mr. Green would be sent to jail surely, but Mr. Bates would definitely want a go at him before that happened. He’d probably have to help restrain him… it was going to be a long night.
Thomas went over to the kitchen sink to get Anna a glass of water, he took the moment to rinse off his bloody knuckles a bit too. Now he had two throbbing hands.
Anna looked up at him as he opened the door and Thomas was pleased to note that she had some colour back in her cheeks.
“Thank-you,” she said taking the glass of water.
“You’re welcome,” he said, automatically, pulling a chair up in front of Anna to sit down.
“No, I mean thank-you for everything. For saving me from… from Mr. Green. For not saying anything to Jimmy, for not leaving me down here to go get the others with him. I mean it Thomas, thank-you so much…” she trailed off at the end, her voice choked up with tears again.
“You are welcome, Anna. I mean that too… I may be an uppity bastard with loose morals most of the time, but I could never let anyone get… attacked the way you were.”
The self-deprecating joke got the laugh out of her he was hoping for and they were both smiling for a moment.
“Now drink your water. Old Mr. Carson taught me that trick y’know? You can’t cry if you’re drinking a glass of water. Used to use it on Lady Mary all the time, before any of us under 40s got ‘ere, ‘e said.”
Another laugh, but Anna did start drinking her water. Now there was nothing left to do but wait as Jimmy hopefully completed his task.
Although, Thomas’ medical training got the better of him as his eyes passed over Anna’s face and arms while they waited.
“We’re going to have to tell Dr. Clarkson about this so he can come and take a look at you. Patient confidentiality will be on your side with him, not that ‘e’d say anything otherwise. I’ve always known ‘im to be disinclined to gossip. And I suppose we’ll have to tell Lord Grantham as well, just his Lordship though, so ‘e makes sure the authorities are contacted and Mr. Green is arrested.”
“Look at you, thinking ahead like a proper Under-Butler. Mr. Carson will be proud when he gets down here,” Anna said with a smirk, clearly happy for the distraction of small talk.
Now it was Thomas’ turn to laugh unexpectedly. “Not bloody likely. I think Mr. Carson would rather eat his own shoes than admit to any pride in me.”
“Just because he won’t admit it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”
“I suppose,” Thomas conceded, noncommittally. Mr. Carson disliked him too much to ever be proud of him, but he wasn’t about to make a fuss of that to Anna after what she’d been through tonight.
“Dr. Clarkson will be able to do a proper examination, but just at a glance it looks like he didn’t manage anything too serious before we stopped him.”
“No, you arrived just in time. He, um, he slapped me ‘cross the face and he was dragging me round by the hair something awful, but that’s about it.”
“It looks like he bruised your arms too.”
Anna looked down at her arms then. “Yes, my wrists from when he was holding me down.” Her eyes went far away again as she said that, Thomas tried to pull her back into the conversation with their triumph over Mr. Green.
“But we stopped him, you and I. You got a nice incriminating scratch ‘cross his face and we locked him in a shoe cupboard, like an unruly dog. It’s where he belongs, really. And it’s not like ‘e’s gonna be seeing the light of day for awhile after we’re done talking to the police.”
That seemed to do the trick; she was back, casting her sweeping gaze over him.
“He did a number on you too; you’re going to have a black eye tomorrow and your knuckles are a right mess. Mr. Carson might put you back in gloves for a few days if your eye heals before your hand and he lets you back upstairs.”
Thomas snorted, “Once a footman, always a footman in Mr. Carson’s eyes. I’ll just have the gloves back on to prove it now.”
Anna looked like she was about to say something snarky, but voices coming down the stairs interrupted. They heard Mr. Carson first, of course.
“If this is James and Thomas’ idea of a practical joke, I must say I am deeply unimpressed.” He did sound quite unimpressed.
“Oh, Mr. Carson do have some faith in yer own staff. We all know how important the performing arts are to you, and I highly doubt the boys would pull you away from a soprano without a good reason.” Thomas really did love Mrs. Hughes.
“Hopefully it’s nothing too dire, despite young James’ uncharacteristic seriousness. Although I don’t know how long I’ll be able to help with whatever this is, I need to go make sure Anna is alright, she’s probably having a rest in the spare servant’s quarters for her headache.”
That was his queue. Thomas stood as he said to Anna, “I’m going to prime them for what’s happened, so your Mr. Bates doesn’t start throwing punches at me. I’ll make sure no one else is with them too.”
“Thank you again, Thomas.” Anna was smiling as he walked out the door, he was thankful for that, at least.
The door was once again shut as he waited for everyone to finish their descent of the servant‘s stairs. And once again, Mr. Carson was the first to speak upon seeing him.
“Mr. Barrow! What’s happened to you? Is this your emergency?” His face must be starting to show the black eye Anna mentioned.
Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Bates didn’t say anything, blessedly, as Mr. Carson’s questions seemed to sum up what they were both wondering.
They were all staring at him now, waiting for an answer. He should’ve gone over what he was going to say while he waited with Anna.
“Right. I’ve um, I’ve been in a fight with one of the visiting servants.”
“You what!?” Mr. Carson was furious; his eyes were wide and wild. Thomas could tell he was about to go on a rant, so he cut him off before he built up any steam.
“But before you start ranting and raving at me Mr. Carson, I need to explain first! Just gimme a moment to explain.”
Thomas almost admired the level of restraint Mr. Carson must have been employing to keep himself from going on in that moment, almost.
“Well go on then Mr. Barrow, out with it.” Mrs. Hughes said, clearly growing impatient.
“Right, so. I came down here to get a bit of pain killer for me hand, on account of it hurting more when a storm is coming.”
Mr. Bates nodded minutely at that, in silent understanding, as his leg had the same issue.
“And when I came down the steps, I heard someone screaming. It was Anna.”
Mr. Bates’ face darkened instantly then and now it was his turn to exercise some restraint.
Thomas knew Mr. Bates to be quite quick-minded, because it was an annoying trait for him to deal with in their little feuds, so he had no doubt that Mr. Bates was piecing together most of what Thomas was about to say, seconds before he said it.
“Mr. Green was down here as well; he was dragging Anna into the boot room and she was screaming blue murder, but the concert music was so loud no one could ‘ear ‘er. We stopped him! Anna and I, before he could… do what he was clearly trying to do. We threw the shed lock on the boot room door; Mr. Green is still in there. And Anna is just 'ere in Mrs. Hughes’ office room. She’s got a few scratches on ‘er. But she’s physically alright overall, I think. Just shaken and exhausted.”
Less than a second after he’d finished speaking Mr. Bates was pushing past Thomas to get through the door to Anna and Thomas felt himself deflate a bit after getting everything out.
Mrs. Hughes shared a long moment of intense eye contact with Thomas, before following behind Mr. Bates. He’d seen a mix of shock and concern, which was to be expected.
Thomas turned to Mr. Carson last, to find him already staring at Thomas.
“Might we have a word out here for a moment, Mr. Barrow?”
“Of course.” Thomas felt his stoic professionalism fall into place over his face, as he responded. The normalcy of that calmed him a bit.
They took a few steps away from the door and further into the kitchen area.
“Mr. Barrow, it would seem a commendation is in order.”
“Excuse me?” Thomas didn’t know what he was expecting Mr. Carson to say, but it certainly wasn’t that.
“You’ve clearly saved Anna from ruin at your own expense.” Mr. Carson said, gesturing to Thomas’ face. “And you managed to get us down here discreetly and without alerting everyone upstairs, as well. Well done, Mr. Barrow.”
Thomas didn’t blush. But if he were to, he imagined it felt like what was happening to his face right now. Mr. Carson saved him from the humiliation of acknowledging his change of colour by swiftly moving on to more pressing matters.
“We’ll have to contact Dr. Clarkson, for an examination of both you and Anna. To make sure neither of you have any broken bones or the like.”
“Yes, I was just saying as much to Anna. We’ll have to tell his Lordship as well, so he can contact the authorities and get Mr. Green taken away.”
“Indeed. You said Mr. Green is still locked in the boot room?”
“Yes, I have the key right here.” Thomas said pulling it out of his pocket.
“I’d prefer if you let me hold on to that. I imagine Mr. Bates will want a few moments alone with Mr. Green before the police arrive. And while he may see no issue with rooting through your pockets for the key, he most certainly will not try the same with me or even better, Lord Grantham.”
Thomas snorted, despite himself. “Right, you are Mr. Carson.” He said, grateful to be handing the key over. He really didn’t get paid enough to fight off two grown men in the same night. God, he needed a drink.
The rest of Thomas’ night was spent downstairs, waiting for and talking to the small group of people they had agreed to include in the reporting of this particular incident.
Anna, Mr. Bates and himself were all huddled together around Mrs. Hughes’ table, each with a cup of tea. Shortly after the making of said tea, Mrs. Hughes herself had returned upstairs with Mr. Carson, to help contain the situation. They were doing a good job of it too, because no other staff came downstairs for the rest of the night. Not even Daisy and Mrs. Patmore.
The tea was doing its job, having something warm to drink was clearly doing Anna some good. And Thomas even managed to get his much needed drink, when, upon his arrival and seeing their general state, Dr. Clarkson produced a flask from his inner jacket pocket and poured a generous amount into Thomas’ tea cup. He offered the same to Anna and Mr. Bates but they both declined.
The music finally stopped at some point, after they finished their tea. Thomas didn't realize how much it was grating at his nerves until it stopped. Anna appeared to have the same realization, based on the tension visibly leaving her shoulders as it petered out. No operas for awhile then.
Of their agreed upon contacts, Lord Grantham was obviously the first to appear, being just upstairs. He spoke kindly to Anna but was properly outraged on her behalf, in the way only a man with daughters could be. That was the first time Thomas gave any consideration to Anna and Lady Mary being of a like age.
Lord Grantham did unfortunately need to get Lord Gillingham involved, as the resolution to the night would involve the loss of his valet, but other than that everything else was dealt with quietly.
Dr. Clarkson examined them both and gave them the all clear after disinfecting the scrapes on Anna’s face and cleaning and bandaging Thomas’ hand. Although he did advise 3 days of bed rest for Thomas, to avoid aggravating or infecting his injuries, particularly his bruised ribs, with housework. And a full week of rest for Anna, who had the mental shock to overcome, in addition to her injuries. He also told Thomas that his black eye would likely take upwards of 2 weeks to heal, even with ice for the swelling. Which was unfortunate, because he wouldn’t be confined to his room for that long. Mr. Carson wasn’t going to be pleased about that, but oh well, they’d work it out in the morning.
The police used the servant’s entrance when they arrived, as requested by Lord Grantham. There were four of them, but they didn’t bother questioning Anna and Thomas separately, as it was quite apparent what had happened, or rather almost happened that night.
Two of them had squeezed into the room with Anna, Mr. Bates and himself, asking them to go over everything they could remember.
Anna managed to recount most of the story without tearing up. Her headache and quietly exiting the hall for an aspirin tablet, which Mr. Bates confirmed. Her voice wavered when she spoke of Mr. Green cornering her and her insistence to him that she didn’t mean to lead him on. She was just being friendly, playing party games with him and the other servants earlier in the night. Mr. Bates did have to hold her hand when she got to the part when Mr. Green held her down and she scratched his face though.Thomas’ heart went out to her.
Thomas told his side of the story after, freely admitting that the fight was a blur, but ended with him shoving Mr. Green into a boot rack and holding the door closed while Anna retrieved the shed lock from Mr. Carson’s office. Mr. Bates’ eyes were on him the whole time, so he knew he wasn’t imagining the approval he saw in them while he recounted their locking Mr. Green up.
He also admitted to freezing up for a few moments on the stairs. Both from the shock of what he was seeing and just how loudly Anna was screaming without being heard over the music. He really pushed that last point, because Thomas was no fool and he knew that Mr. Green was going to lie; claiming Anna wanted him. Regardless of how clear it was that she didn’t.
Dr. Clarkson had also stayed behind after treating Anna and Thomas, idly chatting with Lord Grantham in the kitchen while he waited to give confirmation to the police that everyone’s injuries were consistent with their claims. At one point he went into the boot room with the third officer, to get a look at the scratches on Mr. Green’s face, Thomas assumed.
The final officer had apparently been questioning Mr. Green in the boot room that entire time, concurrent with Anna and Thomas’ interviews. At least that meant the night could be wrapped up a bit faster.
Leading up to the release of Mr. Green from the boot room, Mr. Bates elected to take Anna home, insisting that she didn’t need to think about or see his face again for the rest of her life. Thomas also suspected, in the back of his mind, that perhaps Mr. Bates himself also didn’t want to look at Mr. Green in that moment. Unsure of what he would do to the man who assaulted his wife, even in the presence of police officers.
So the two of them were gone before Mr. Green emerged, leaving only Thomas, Dr. Clarkson and Lord Grantham to see how resigned and pathetic Mr. Green was as they dragged him off in cuffs. All signs of a fight gone from him.
He made eye contact with Thomas for a brief moment and Thomas saw nothing but empty hopelessness in his eyes. Excellent, no chance of escape or pardoning for him then.
Sensing the finality of the scene, Thomas moved to show all four of the officers out, but Dr. Clarkson intervened.
“I can show them the way, I visit the abbey so often these days I could navigate it in my sleep. And I must be going myself, it’s been a long night. Goodnight, Lord Grantham. Goodnight, Mr. Barrow and remember to ice that eye and get some proper rest these next few days.”
“Thank you kindly, Dr. Clarkson for all your help tonight. Have a good night and be sure to get yourself some rest as well.” Lord Grantham said, watching them head towards the back entrance.
That left just Lord Grantham and Thomas.
“It has been a long night for you, hasn’t it Barrow?” Lord Grantham said, conversationally. Turning to Thomas with a sympathetic look in his eyes.
“Indeed it has, M’lord.”
“You’ve done a great thing here tonight, Barrow, I hope you know that.”
“I’ve really only done what’s decent, M’lord. Seems a bit… off to be accepting praise for doing something like this. I didn’t do anything special that any other ordinary man couldn’t do. I was just in the right place at the right time.”
“And yet a seemingly ‘ordinary’ man, unknowingly brought into my own home, was responsible for Anna’s suffering in the first place. No, Barrow, not all men are ordinary and not all men are decent. You were very brave here tonight, you acted quickly to save Anna from ruin and you stopped it from becoming a scene. And I say that for Anna’s sake as well, not just the party upstairs. Excellent job, Barrow. I’ve asked Mr. Carson to pick out a nice Port for you, as a gift, you’ve earned it.” Lord Grantham ended his speech by squeezing Thomas’ right shoulder.
Praised twice in one night by both heads of the house, Thomas felt a bit faint suddenly.
“Thank you, M’lord.” He didn’t know what else to say, he was practically swooning.
Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes choose that moment to re-appear from upstairs though, with Jimmy trailing behind them. Thank God, they saved Thomas from getting misty-eyed in front of his employer.
Mrs. Hughes spoke first this time, explaining Jimmy’s presence and giving Thomas the story they would be expecting him to parrot, all in one sentence.
“Young Mr. Kent here was helping Mr. Carson and I keep the incident of your attack from Mr. Green quiet upstairs during the concert, but after seeing Mr. and Mrs. Bates leave just now, he insisted it wasn’t fair that we were keeping your state from him while the Bates were allowed to help.”
She really was brilliant. And Thomas was quite touched that Jimmy had put up such a fuss to make sure he was alright.
He smiled at Jimmy and rolled his eyes before saying, “I told you I’d come find you before the end of the night and explain what happened, ya git.”
Jimmy responded with a huff and clear anger behind his voice.
“It’s already the end of the night and well into the next morning, it’s 2am! I know these big parties always run long, but I haven’t seen you for the past 5 hours. And they wouldn’t let anyone down here in the kitchen. I thought you’d been seriously hurt and I just missed it on you when I came down! Like you were bleeding out of the back of yer ‘ead or something. Christ Thomas…” Jimmy ran out of steam towards the end of his outburst, but he was staring Thomas dead in the eyes, clearly still upset.
Thomas’ smile dropped, Jimmy really did care about his well-being, he’d proven that over the last year and a half of their friendship. He shouldn’t have played it off so casually, it was just hard to remember that anyone actually cared about him sometimes.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I’m okay, really. I’m not hurt too bad. I’m barely hurt at all, even. It’s just; the fight I got into with Mr. Green… it was over a delicate matter.” He lowered his voice a bit and gave Jimmy a pointed look then, hoping Jimmy would connect the dots to wherever his mind took that statement. Probably to Thomas’ queerness, which would save Thomas from outright lying to him.
It seemed to work, because Jimmy’s eyes widened before turning all soft and sympathetic.
“O, golly. Thomas, that’s- that’s awful. I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry. Glad you’re okay though. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I am, Dr. Clarkson gave me the all clear after 3 days of bed rest.” Thomas said.
Lord Grantham stepped in then. “Indeed, he did. Worry not, James. Barrow will be well again in no time. No serious injuries to report, other than some bruised ribs, I believe. Dr. Clarkson’s given him a clean bill of health.” That appeared to sooth Jimmy’s irritation a bit.
“Well, with that sorted I’ll be off to bed now. Thank you for your help tonight everyone, it’s greatly appreciated in the wake of Barrow’s attack and I trust that we shant be acknowledging the barbarity of it again in polite company, regardless of the injuries Barrow has sustained to his face.” Lord Grantham gave Mr. Carson a pointed look then, it would’ve been funny in any other circumstance.
After a chorus of “of course nots,” and “good night m’lords,” Lord Grantham was gone.
Lord Grantham was gone and everyone else was off in bed, yet Thomas was still down here, in desperate need of some sleep and maybe another drink. His injuries were really starting to throb now, along with his left hand. He never did get that aspirin tablet.
As if reading his mind, or at least his obvious foul mood, Mrs. Hughes spoke up. “If we’re all done here, I think it would be good of Mr. Kent to walk Mr. Barrow up to his room now, it’s been a long night.” Mrs. Hughes said, clearly sympathizing with Thomas’ fatigue and wanting to end the night herself.
“Yes, if you would be so kind, James. I’m sure Mr. Barrow would appreciate a companion for a single drink after his ordeal.” Mr. Carson said, producing a bottle of Port with a flourish.
Thomas took the bottle, yet again, at a loss for words. It wasn’t the super high end stuff they usually served upstairs but it was definitely the most expensive bottle of alcohol he’d personally ever own.
“A gift from Lord Grantham, for your bravery in this matter, so to speak. One of the officers spoke to Lord Grantham and Lord Gillingham during your questioning and apparently Mr. Green has attempted this sort of assault before. But they’ve been unable to find sufficient evidence, until now. They were quite pleased to catch him this time.”
Thomas had to give it to Mr. Carson then; he was almost as good at dancing around the truth as Mrs. Hughes when he wanted to be.
“Blimey, Thomas, that’s brilliant. You’re a hero.” Jimmy said, smiling brightly.
God, Thomas was so tired and so happy he didn’t have to work tomorrow.