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Mr Molesley had accompanied her downstairs, smiling still and quoting the finer points of opera to her, despite that fact that while it had sounded lovely, Mrs Hughes hadn’t really understood a word of what was being sung. Still, Dame Melba had sounded beautiful.
It was a very different sound to the hushed, hurried whisper of Anna when she opened the door to her private sitting room. “Shut the door.” The urgency and pain in her voice stopped her in tracks, eyes quickly taking in the sight of the younger maid curled on the floor, hiding from unwelcome eyes.
“My God.” The blood on her face was bad enough, but the tears in her dress left little in the way of imagining what could have happened to her and Mrs Hughes couldn’t help the instant uprise of bile in her throat.
“Shut the door,” Anna begged again, pulling herself to her feet once it had closed, loose strands of her hair clinging to the blood and tears on her face. “Will you help me?” Her voice cut off into a pained gasp, before she reigned it in. “Will you find me some clothes?”
“Of course, I will but-”
“Will you see to Lady Mary?” She was quick to cut in, her fear and panic destroying any decorum that was normally expected. “Say- Just say I've gone home with a headache.” Anything that would sound even remotely plausible, her voice hedging into hysterical as she tried to gulp in breaths.
Mrs Hughes reached out to take her hands, to help calm Anna in any way she could but quickly thought better of it. God knew of the poor girl even wanted to be touched right now. “I can manage Lady Mary but Anna, we must tell someone.” Surely, they should contact the police, at the very least tell Mr Carson so he could explain something to Lord Grantham at the state his daughter’s lady’s maid would be in in the coming weeks.
“No, no, no!” The hysterical edge broke through completely, the fear of anyone finding out pressing at her bruised and battered soul as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Mrs Hughes watched as she backed away slightly and she could barely comprehend how frightened Anna must have been, “but you'll have to tell Mr Bates.” She had no doubt he’d work it out just by looking at his wife. He wasn’t a stupid man after all.
The fear came back into her voice then, the thought of losing John more than she could take in that moment. “Him least of all! He'd murder the man who's done it and then he'd be hanged.”
“But surely,” she said, shaking her head, even as she began to understand. Anna had lost so much tonight; she wouldn’t risk her husband.
“He's a convicted felon. Do you think they'd spare him a second time? No,” she shook her head frantically again, the tangle of what was left of her bun dragging around her shoulders and revealing bruises forming on her neck.
“Maybe the doctor's still here.” Mrs Hughes was already turning, adamant in at least this, positive that the doctor would at least be able to tend to Anna’s physical wounds, perhaps even give guidance on how to treat whatever would be lurking beneath the surface of her mind.
She was quickly stopped by Anna’s hand on her wrist, slim fingers chilling her skin even through the fabric of her dress and holding more strength than Mrs Hughes would have thought her capable of. “Will you listen. I need your help, or I wouldn't have told you.” Briefly she was hurt by the lack of trust she suggested, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. “Nobody else must ever know. You promise me!”
Still, she held short of saying the actual words, reluctant to promise anything she may ultimately not be able to keep. “Wait here,” she said at last, gently squeezing the younger woman’s fingers before her hand found her cheek, brushing away bloodied blond hair behind her ear, trying to give her all the love she could offer. “I'll fetch you some water and a comb, and see what I can find you in the way of a dress.” For a moment she watched as Anna curled back into the corner she’d found her in, thin arms wrapping around herself as she tried to hold her sobs in before she closed the door and locked it, worried about anyone walking in on Anna, or worse, someone coming back to hurt her again.
For the first time she could remember she was grateful for the sound of the rest of the staff in the servant’s hall talking loudly, discussing the opera from before, arguing over whether it was any good or not. It gave her time to gather what she needed; A bowl of warm water and a cloth, a spare dress from when Anna had been a housemaid, and the first aid box from the kitchen pantry. She set them down just out of sight before quietly joining the rowdy noise of her staff and moving over to Mr Carson.
Schooling her face to only show mild concern she looked up to him. “When Lady Mary rings will you get me, I’ve sent Anna home unwell, and I agreed to take over for her.”
Carson rose a single eyebrow in worry. “Is she alright?”
She nodded gamely, aiming for an unworried air. “I think so, just a little under the weather and she’s had a bit of a fall.” She held up a hand to forestall anymore questions, settling with Carson’s look of surprise. There would be questions from him, but hopefully she could hold them off until the morning.
Quickly she looked around the room making sure Mr Bates hadn’t heard; the last thing she knew Anna wanted was him, and despite her own disagreement there, she could understand her. Another thought occurred to her, dread crawling up her spine as she realised there was a chance whoever had done this was among them. Anna hadn’t offered any names yet, and she wasn’t sure she would despite her own suspicions, but the thought chilled her. With a final nod to the Butler, Mrs Hughes headed back towards her office, gathering her supplies as she went and pressing her own emotions down. She could deal with those later.
This time she locked the door from the inside, unwilling to have anyone disturb her with Anna and certain unwilling to have anyone barge in. Carefully she pulled out the chair, the scraping across the floor making her wince and Anna flinch back into the wall, desperate to escape the sound. With caution she crouched down in front of her, wary of touching her against her will but needing for her to be somewhere with a little more light so she could clean her up.
“Come on now my dear, lets get all this blood off you and get your hair combed through.” This time Anna was unsteady on her feet, her hands gripping the housekeepers tightly as she wavered, the urgency of before gone into shame, fear and pain that made Mrs Hughes’ heart ache. Anna had always been the one she’d never had to worry about, even when Mr Bates had gone to prison, Anna had remained calm and compassionate. A rare gift in her eyes. “Am I alright to help you, or would you rather I turned my back?”
A sob broke from Anna’s throat again, her fingers curling around Mrs Hughes’ a little tighter. “I don’t think I’ll manage on my own.”
“Alright, how about we start with your dress.” Her years as a lady’s maid made the process easier and allowed her to quickly help Anna out of the ruined clothes. She kept up a steady stream of comforting words, trying to ease her shame when the dress gave way to torn stockings and bruised thighs. With gentle hands she cleaned her legs, doing her very best not to think of the dark bruises and bright blood and the intent behind the damage done, before helping her with clean underclothes and easing the skirt of the dress over the young woman’s hips. Silently Mrs Hughes made a mental note to burn the growing pile of clothing in the corner.
For her part Anna never winced or cried out in pain, although Mrs Hughes had no doubt she was in agony, and her trembles never lessened for a moment. The bruises she could see were already livid on her skin, let alone what she couldn’t, and that was just her legs. They still had to contend with everything else.
The knock on the door startled them both, tears flooding Anna’s eyes as she looked towards the sound, retreating back into the corner where Mrs Hughes had first found her. Silently she put a finger to her lips, gesturing for Anna to remain still and quiet while she unlocked the door to Carson and stepped outside. With the door ajar Anna could hear what was being said. “Lady Mary has rung down.”
“Thank you Carson, I won’t be too long,” she said pulling the door closed and locking it, expecting that Anna would still only be half in the clean dress when she returned and as she made her way upstairs the anger came. How could anyone do this to another person? Beat them so violently and abuse them in such a way that it left a strong and loving woman broken and scared?
Lady Mary couldn’t help the look of surprise when Mrs Hughes came in, her gaze initially looking around the woman for Anna before settling on the concerned face of their housekeeper. “I hope you don’t mind milady, but I’ve sent Anna off home. She wasn’t feeling to well during the concert and seems to have taken a fall when she went down to get something to treat it.”
At once Mary’s face darkened with worry. “Is it anything serious? I’m sure Doctor Clarkson is still downstairs.”
For a moment Mrs Hughes hesitated. She dearly wanted Anna to be cared for by someone more than just herself, but Anna had been in such a terror when she’d left and she didn’t dare push her yet. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. She has some bruises, and a cut or two,” or twenty, she added silently.
“Well, if she needs a day off, or if it does become that she needs Clarkson let me know. I’m rather fond of Anna,” she admitted softly, surprised still at how much she’d come to depend on her maid’s quiet sincerity. The lack of her left her feeling oddly adrift.
Mrs Hughes’ face brightened into a smile. Anna’s care for Lady Mary rivalled Carson’s, and it was always a pleasure to know the affection went both ways. “She’s rather fond of you too milady.”
It didn’t take long then to prepare Lady Mary for bed, the chatter quiet and concise before she closed the door behind her with a soft click. She couldn’t help but wonder if a day off would be exactly what Anna would need. If only she’d be able to convince her to take it.
The servants’ halls were near empty when Mrs Hughes made it back down, and the door to her sitting room still locked. Anna was much the same as she’d left her, although she’d retrieved a blanket and bundled it around herself in the time she’d been upstairs, and in that she was at least relieved. The thin slip she’d helped her pull on earlier wasn’t warm in any way and the last thing she needed was pneumonia.
“I’m sorry I was so long,” in response Anna just shook her head, hair tangling around her cheeks, before carefully lifting herself to her feet again.
The water had long since gone cold, not that either of them seemed to notice as she washed Anna’s arms down and cleaned the cut on her back, gently picking out a shard of pottery from her skin. “Where did this happen?” she asked suddenly, and part of her regretted it as Anna tensed under her hands, but she couldn’t make much sense of the scratches on her back and the rips across the shoulders of her dress.
For a long moment she though Anna would hold her tongue but her shoulders began to shake as she tried to swallow down another sob. “The boot room,” she whispered at last, her head bowing as her body folded down towards her knees, her emotions broken free from whatever hold she’d wrapped herself in.
Mrs Hughes took a soft breath herself, praying for the strength to help her, before wrapping her arms around Anna’s bare shoulders and gently pulling the sobbing woman to her chest, her fingers weaving into her tangled hair as she held her close. She half expected to be shoved away, relieved when Anna curled into her, still cold fingers clinging to her clothes. “It’s going to be okay,” she promised.
“How can it ever be okay again?” Anna murmured into her shoulder, and Mrs Hughes’ heart broke a little more.
Unwilling to let Anna freeze on her floor she carried on, her head still nestled on her shoulder. Carefully she lifted the bowl down to the floor and gently cleaned the blood from under her nails and rubbed salve onto her knuckles and the cut on her back. She hoped that whoever had done this to her was hurting from whatever damage Anna had clearly tried to inflict. “Your hands might be a touch sore tomorrow.”
“No more sore than the rest of me,” she said softly, pulling away from the housekeeper and trying to button the front of the dress up.
Gently Mrs Hughes stilled her hands and finished the buttons herself, before taking Anna’s hands in her own. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up properly.” Once she’d got Anna in the chair, she went over to the sideboard and pulled out the bottle of old and expensive brandy that was tucked away there. The clinking of the bottle on the glass was loud in the quiet of her sitting room, drawing Anna’s eyes. “Mr Carson would not be pleased to know I have this,” she said with a smile before settling the glass in front of Anna, a little more full than she would normally pour. “I know you don’t drink much, but tonight I think you need this.” At the very least it should help numb some of the pain.
It took longer than Mrs Hughes would have cared to admit to get the knots out of her hair, trying to avoid the lump on the back of her head that only added to list of injuries that she’d had to clean up tonight. With relief she pinned the last lock in place, smoothing her hand over the crown of her head before settling down opposite Anna to assess the damage to her face. The bruising would look hideous tomorrow, but with a little powder Anna would be able to cover up the worst of the damage come morning.
The glass in her hand was still as full as when she’d poured it a little while ago she noted with dismay, the young woman’s bruised knuckles almost white around the glass and her body trembling with pain and exhaustion. “Anna,” she asked gently, “I know you’re frightened, and I know you’re in pain, but please, could you tell me who did this to you?”
Anna’s eyes were dark in the dim light when she finally looked at her, her lips trembling as she shook her head, unable to find the words. In the time she’d been cleaning Anna up, Mrs Hughes had been thinking, going over everything that had happened between her slipping away and finding her, and while she didn’t remember anyone else leaving, she did remember a rather nervous looking valet returning to the concert. She knew there was no gentle way to ask her, but she had to know. “It was Lord Gillingham’s man, wasn’t it? Green?”
Anna’s hand slid away from the glass, twisting her wedding round her finger instead as her gaze dropped to the table, unable to meet Mrs Hughes’s eyes. “No one must ever know,” she repeated again, her resolve not to cry crumbling at the sound of his name. Mrs Hughes was by her side in an instant, cradling Anna’s head to her chest and holding her through the worst of it.
At least now she knew, and she’d make sure that he was never alone with Anna again for as long as he remained at Downton. It was the only way she could protect her now. As Housekeeper, all the maids were under her care, and Anna had been at Downton for so many years, she’d been able to watch her grow in the woman she was today and she couldn’t help but feel she’d failed her.
Mrs Hughes could honestly say she’d never wished death on another person, but in that moment, holding someone dear to her as they cried, she did, and she found no guilt in it. She nodded towards the glass still abondoned on the table. “Get that down you while I clean your face up, then I’ll walk you home.”
Anna shook her head softly, stilling Mrs Hughes’ movement with the cloth against her cheek. “I’ll be alright on my own.”
Unwelcome anger bloomed in her chest at the thought, “Anna, I will not be having you walk alone tonight. You are in no condition-”
“What more can be done to me now?” Her voice was a little calmer than it had been in the hour before, but Mrs Hughes could hear the tremble she was so desperately trying to supress. Still, she wanted to argue, but somehow she doubted that Anna would budge on this. Gently she cleaned the last of blood from the younger woman’s face, holding the cold cloth against Anna’s cheek as she sipped the brandy.
Only when the glass was empty did Anna gently push Mrs Hughes hands away and stand. “Thank you,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Anna, I don’t mind walking you home. I’d rather see you get there safe.”
Again, she shook her head, red rimmed eyes looking at her softly. “I just need to be alone.” In her heart Mrs Hughes suspected that was the least sensible thing that she’d ever heard from Anna in all the years she’d known her, but decided not to comment on it as she watched her slip out the door. She had half a mind to follow her, just to be sure and was on her feet when she heard Mr Bates’ voice outside her sitting room.
With a sigh she stepped away from the door, unwilling to intrude on whatever was being said between them. At the very least, Mr Bates would know if Anna made it back to the cottage, even if she refused to tell him anything. It gave her a small sum of comfort.
Suddenly weary, she dropped into the chair and looked around. The bowl of bloody water would have to be gotten rid of, as would Anna’s ruined clothes and the supplies in the first aid kit replaced, and god knew what state the boot room would be in. That was something she could do without seeing she suspected. She shook her head to herself, still trying to understand everything that had happened in the last hours and now she was alone her own tears came, hot and sharp as they spilled down her cheeks. She doubted there’d be much sleep for her tonight, if any, and heart said the next few weeks would bring only pain.