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Footman in Training	By : imdirty Category: 1 through F > Downton Abbey Views: 2658 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey and am not making money from this story. And I'm hoping I'm doing this disclaimer thing right :)

Chapter List
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Thomas’s one day of space grew to four days. Price treaded lightly at first, but became more frustrated and withdrawn with each passing day. Lady Edith noticed Price looked less cheerful than usual, assuming Nora’s absence caused the change in mood. She thought a diversion might be nice for him, and came up with an idea that would benefit them both. She pulled him aside in the great hall after tea service.

“I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Of course, m’Lady, what can I do for you?”

“You might have heard that my editor quit, which is why I’m headed to London tomorrow. I will need to play editor until I find someone suitable to take the job. I want my readers to become familiar with me. I wondered if you could draw something like you did for Miss Nora. Realistic, but somewhat like a sketch. I think it would print well and reflect the kind of image I want to portray. I’ll compensate you fairly, of course.”

Price thought Lady Edith was going to ask for a glass of water or a bite to eat. He replied when his tongue finally untied itself. “I would be honored. But, of course, if you don’t like it, please don’t feel that you have to use it. I’d understand.”

“I’ll like it very much, I’m sure. So, how does it work? Do I sit for you while you draw?”

Price smiled at the idea of Lady Edith posing for him. “It would be best if I could at least draw the sketch with you present, but I can finish it on my own.”

“We can use the drawing room, it seems fitting. I’ll tell Mr. Carson I’m borrowing you. How long do you need?”

Price glanced up at the gallery and saw Thomas looking down. “Not much time, fifteen minutes? Thirty?”

“You’re fast! Well, get your things, I’ll find Mr. Carson and then meet you in the drawing room.”

Price followed Lady Edith’s direction and collected his supplies from his bedroom. Thomas caught up with Price just as he stepped back into the hall.

“What were you and Lady Edith discussing?”

“You think you can ignore me for days and then pounce when there’s a promise of gossip?” Price scoffed.

“The two aren’t related.”

Price rolled his eyes and adjusted the sketchbook under his arm.

“So now you’re the one not talking to me?” Thomas asked crisply.

“It’s not a game” Price snapped. “My heart is breaking over this.”

“Because I needed a few days to myself? Really, David, come on.”

“Do I seriously have to explain this to you? You go away for a day and suddenly you want nothing to do with me. I had the best night of my life with the love of my life, only to have you snuff me out like one of your cigarettes. I’m tired of this same thing over and over. Pull me in, push me away, pull me back. Make up your bloody mind.”

Thomas had no good response, and looked down at Price silently rather than saying something he might regret.

“She’s waiting for me,” Price said flatly, turning on his heel to go to the drawing room.

Price left his frustration behind and let himself into the room. Lady Edith sat by a window. Pink light from the setting winter sun fell across her profile.

“Should I sit here, or somewhere else.”

“There is perfect,” Price said, pulling up a chair to sit across from her.

Lady Edith waved her hands in little circles. “What do I do with these?”

“You can lay them in your lap, elbows out to the side. No, more relaxed. Yes, like that. Tip your chin down.”

Lady Edith attempted to follow Price’s direction.

“Not that far, up just a little.”

She tried and failed again. Price reached out his hand and almost touched her chin before remembering himself. He pulled his hand back and opened his sketchbook.

“No, I want it to be right, you can pose me.”

Price smiled timidly and held Lady Edith’s jaw, turning her face and tipping it down slightly. He adjusted the hair around her face with a finger and then sat back.

“Better?” Lady Edith asked.

“Yes, m’Lady. I won’t take long,” he said, sharpening a pencil.

“Take whatever time you need. You’re doing this for me, not the other way around.”

Price sharpened another two pencils, then sketched three quick images before turning the page and sketching another three. Lady Edith nearly looked downward to look at the sketchbook, but she resisted and stayed still, meeting Price’s eyes each time he looked up.

“Do you draw people often?”

“I think I’ve drawn everyone downstairs at least once,” Price said, finally settling on how he wanted to draw Lady Edith. He turned to a clean page and spent ten quiet, focused minutes drawing. Lady Edith spent the ten minutes studying Price, intensely curious how he found himself employed by her family when he clearly had other gifts.

“Are you sure that was enough time?” Lady Edith asked as Price closed his book.

“Plenty, yes. I can do the rest tonight. I should get back downstairs.”

“Can I take a look?”

“No, no peeking,” Price said, putting his hand over the cover of the book.

“Is tonight really enough time? You can always send it to me, or I can get it when I come back for Christmas.”

“Don’t worry, I never make promises I can’t keep. I’ll have it to you first thing. May I be dismissed, m’Lady? The Christmas decorations will be here shortly and I need to help.”

Lady Edith blinked, snapping back to reality where Price was a footman and not her personal portrait artist. “Yes, you may. Thank you, David.”

Price put his things away and went down to the kitchen. He was eager to share his experience with the kitchen staff, but Thomas was hovering by Daisy, watching her make truffles, and so Price stayed quiet.

“All done with Lady Edith?” Thomas asked, loud enough for Daisy and Ellie to look up from their work.

“What were you doing with Lady Edith?” Daisy asked, taking Thomas’s bait. Thomas sucked the inside of his cheek to avoid smiling.

“She needed help with something, so I helped her.”

“Why so vague, David?” Ellie asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

“It was nothing of consequence, and I suppose nobody’s business.”

“Testy, testy,” Thomas said, smiling at Ellie.

“Pay them no mind, David,” Daisy said, stirring a pot of melting chocolate. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

The back door opened and Lee came in, followed by several of the outdoor staff hustling in with crates of holly and branches of evergreen. Even the staff from the stables helped, as there were crates upon crates to carry inside. Price got to know the groom when he visited the stables and greeted him with a wide smile. Thomas was suddenly too focused on sizing up the other man to give the rest direction.

Lee shifted a box in his arms and cleared his throat.

“Hello,” Thomas said, dragging his eyes away from the man. “Bring those to the hall. I’ll round up the others and everyone will meet you there.”

Price began to follow the outdoor staff, but Thomas grabbed his shoulder. “Help me find everyone, won’t you?”

“I think you can manage that yourself,” Price said, jerking his shoulder away.

Thomas looked back at the kitchen. Daisy was watching from her spot at the stove. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into you,” he said, fixing his sleeve, “but the correct response is, ‘yes, Mr. Barrow’.”

Price looked at Daisy and she returned her eyes to her pot. “Yes, Mr. Barrow,” he said through his teeth.

Thomas led Price through the halls downstairs, telling each person he found to head up. When the halls were cleared, he turned to Price. “You seemed especially pleased to see that man. Who is he?”

“Owen, the groom? Don’t you know the men outside?”

“I know the gardener, but I have no reason to know the rest.”

“Ah yes, that’s right, because being friendly isn’t reason enough for you to know somebody.”

Thomas clenched and unclenched his jaw. “Why did that look come across your face when you saw him?”

“What look? A friendly smile?”

“That was more than a friendly smile.”

Price smirked and crossed his arms. “You know what I wonder? I wonder why you’re so quick to accuse me of something improper. Are you hiding something improper yourself?”

“I’ve done nothing improper.”

“Your behavior says otherwise.”.

“There you are,” Mr. Molesley said, turning the corner to find Thomas and Price. “Mr. Carson sent me to look for you.”

“We were just on our way up,” Thomas said. He followed Mr. Molesley, with Price trailing behind.

The front doors were wide open, and through them several men helped ease the Christmas tree inside. Mr. Carson handed over supervision to Thomas and turned his attention to decorating the hall. He asked Price to help, then pointed to three members of the staff to help as well, including the groom. Mr. Carson assigned Price and the groom to work together wrapping garlands around the banisters of the main stairs.

As the tree was raised into position, Thomas found himself watching Price instead. Price chatted and laughed with the other man as they passed the garland over and under the banisters. The groom whispered to Price, and then Price whispered something back that earned him a playful elbow to the ribs from the groom. Price caught Thomas looking and took a step back from the groom, continuing to wrap the banisters.

When the two finished, they walked together down the stairs to find the next task in need of some hands. Price fell back and let the groom approach Thomas for the next assignment.

“You can start separating the holly,” Thomas told the groom. “And you,” he said to Price while looking at his clipboard, “help Miss Baxter unpack the ornaments.”

“Fun’s over,” the groom said to Price before they parted ways. “See you Thursday?”

Price felt Thomas’s eyes staring a hole straight through him. “Yes,” he replied merrily, “I can’t wait.”

Downton was coming together for the holiday, and it was quite a sight to behold. Staff from every corner of the abbey floated in and out of the hall between tasks, and something about all of it made Price feel like he truly belonged among them. He joined Miss Baxter and handled each ornament with great care, unwrapping and laying them on a table for the family to hang that evening. It was challenging not to stop and admire each one. Some looked more than a hundred years old, and he wondered how many generations of Crawleys had held them in their hands.

The vibrant setting had the opposite effect on Thomas. Price’s little scene on the stairs crept right under Thomas’s skin, making him realize how quickly he could lose Price to someone else if he kept pushing him away. He cursed himself for possibly poisoning the healthiest and happiest relationship he ever had with any man, or any person for that matter.

Price was summoned for tea service. He hummed Christmas carols and smiled at everyone, determined not to let the afternoon be ruined by his grievances with Thomas. Christmas had never felt as exciting and he wanted to revel in it as long as possible.

Price stood by Ellie as he waited for trays of sandwiches, rather than standing in his usual spot by Daisy. “Psst. Psssst,” he whispered, trying to get her attention.

“What are you making that noise for, you silly beggar?”

“Someone asked me if you already had a beau, because if not, they might like to be yours.”

“Who?” Ellie squeeked, her eyes twinkling.

“Someone who was here to help today, not a person who’s usually in the house.”

Ellie ran through a list in her head of all the men who passed through downstairs that morning. “Give me a hint.”

“He’s good looking and charming, funny and kind.”

Ellie shrugged, “I don’t know. A few of them are good looking.”

“Which is the best looking?”

Ellie laughed, “This is silly, just tell me!”

“Make one guess, and if you’re wrong, I’ll tell you who it is.”

Ellie placed sandwiches on a tray and passed it down for Daisy to inspect. “Is it the one from the stables?”

“There’s three in the stables.”

“The better looking one,” Ellie said, still laughing.

“Owen?”

“Yes, that’s his name.”

“I’m glad you said him, because he’s the one.”

“David,” Mrs. Patmore interrupted from down the counter, “you’d better get these upstairs.”

Ellie pouted. “You’re teasing. He wouldn’t be interested in me.”

Thomas entered the kitchen, and Price glanced at him and took the tray from Mrs. Patmore. “You know I’d never do that, Ellie. I speak only the truth.” He avoided Thomas’s eyes on his way upstairs.

Thomas stood next to Daisy. “What kind of truth is he speaking?”

Daisy didn’t lift her eyes from her work. “Not any of mine to share.”

“Ellie?”

Ellie put her hand on her hip and posed. “Someone fancies me.”

“Uh oh, is David playing matchmaker again?”

Ellie returned to her sandwiches. “I don’t know, maybe. If he’s matched me with who I think he has, I’ve no complaints.”

“He’s a regular Cupid, isn’t he?” Thomas said as he left to check on things upstairs.

The family would have a light and early dinner so they could decorate the tree with the children before their bedtime. Dessert would be served once the tree was decorated. Price had Lady Edith’s drawing on his mind, and asked Mr. Carson if he could head to his room before dessert service. “It was Lady Edith’s request,” he told Mr. Carson, “I want to make sure I complete it before she leaves tomorrow.”

Mr. Carson permitted Price to go upstairs early, and asked Thomas to help Mr. Molesley while Price was otherwise detained.

“What’s so important that he can’t wait another hour?” Thomas griped.

“Something Lady Edith requires, so I didn’t ask further questions, and neither should you.”

Dessert service would have been easy for Thomas if his only task was to bring around the wine, but with Price absent, he had to run up and down the stairs with Mr. Molesley like a footman. The confusing letter from Eric and his visit with his sister both weighed heavily on his mind. Between the groom, and now the extra duties dumped on him because of Price, Thomas felt he might be nearing his boiling point.

The moment dessert service ended, Thomas went to the courtyard without even fetching his coat. His hands shook as he flicked open his lighter, and he took a heavy drag to ensure his nerves would calm quickly. He fought off visions of Price with the groom, laughing and teasing in some hidden corner of the stables, their playing turning into something more.

After finishing his first cigarette, he realized that if the hint of flirtation between Price and another man touched him so deeply, Price must have truly struggled to accept, and even welcome, his friendship with Eric. Whatever Eric might be feeling, Thomas thought, it couldn’t be nearly as strong as what Price felt for him.

Time in the chilly air and two cigarettes later, he felt like he could at least make it through the servant’s supper without picking a fight with the other members of staff.

Price didn’t come down for supper, too determined to finish his drawing to eat. Thomas struggled to eat his own supper across from Price’s empty spot. He wanted an excuse to see him, talk to him, perhaps even touch him. When supper was over, Thomas asked Daisy for a plate for Price and brought it to his room. He opened the door without knocking.

“I’m busy,” Price said without looking up. He sat on his bed leaning back against the headboard, his knees pulled up, sketchbook resting against his thighs.

“I brought your supper,” Thomas said, putting the plate at the foot of Price’s bed.

“You didn’t have to. I don’t have much of an appetite, anyway.”

“Can I see what you’re drawing?”

“No.”

Thomas imagined sitting on the bed next to Price, sliding his hand up Price’s thigh while Price licked his lips and waited for a kiss. Instead, Thomas stood at the foot of the bed feeling like a trespasser.

“Don’t stand there and stare at me,” Price said, finally looking up. “I’ll talk to you another time.”

“When?”

“When I’m good and ready. Now, please close the door on your way out.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Price said, drawing again.

When Thomas was gone, Price tried to finish the last details, but was too agitated. He closed the book and stretched across the bed for the plate Thomas left. He ate with his fingers, suddenly feeling hungry after the first few bites.

With a little more energy, Price finished the last touches, paced his room a few times to build up his courage, and went to Thomas.

He let himself into Thomas’s room and found Thomas sitting on the edge of his bed in silence. His eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular, and it took him a few moments to look up at Price.

“Have a seat,” Thomas said, looking at the bed next to him.

“I’ll stand for now if that’s alright with you.”

“Whatever you like.”

“I’d like you to tell me what’s going on.”

“It would be easier if you sat with me.”

Price sat at the foot of Thomas’s bed, about as far as he could get while still being on the same piece of furniture.

“David, what becomes of us if I go to London and you stay here?”

Price shrugged. “We’d figure it out.”

“We’d almost never see each other.”

“Well, who says I’m staying here forever?”

Thomas played with his glove. “You love it here and they all love you, why would you leave?”

“Because I love you the most,” Price said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“You can’t uproot your life for me.”

“Not for you, for us. And, well, you’re not the only one considering other options.”

“Why, what are you considering?”

“Nothing, really,” Price said, searching Thomas’s face for something more. “Is that all this is? You’re afraid of what might happen if you left?”

Thomas shook his hair loose from it’s careful styling. By the end of the day, it always started to irritate him. “That’s part of it. My sister, she’s having some kind of break down.”

“I am sorry to hear that. But why would you push me away because of that, instead of turning to me for help or comfort?”

Thomas pulled Eric’s letter from under his mattress held it out to Price. “Because there’s something else, too.”

Price looked at the letter skeptically. “You want me to read this?”

“I don’t want you to, but I don’t want to hide things from you, either,” Thomas replied, pushing the letter in Price’s hand.

Price held the letter, still folded, between his fingers. “Did something bad happen?”

“Just read it, please.”

Price unfolded the letter and began reading. Thomas expected some kind of emotion to come over Price’s face, but his expression was blank. He finished the letter and put it on the bed between them.

After a minute passed, Thomas thought his heart might burst if Price stayed silent any longer. “Please say something.”

“This is my fault,” Price said simply.

“How?”

“I encouraged him to visit, I encouraged you to go to his room, and I even indulged in your fantasy about him. You’ve called me naive, and you were right. I’m an absolute fool.”

“No, David,” Thomas said, reaching his hand out to touch Price’s face.

Price rose from the bed. “Clearly I am. What were you thinking showing me that letter, anyway?”

“I wanted to be honest with you,” Thomas replied, letting his arm fall to his side.

“I would’ve preferred you kept that letter to yourself. Unless you’re planning to do something about it.”

“I’m not planning anything.”

Price looked at the letter on the bed and winced at the thought of Thomas with Eric. “I’m so, so tired of him coming between us. You know, Thomas, he’s not in love with you. He’s in love with the chase. If you think for one moment that he’d actually dedicate himself to you, then I’m not the only fool in this room.”

Thomas ran his tongue across the back of his teeth and stared off into nowhere again.

“He didn’t think he was in love with you when he was here,” Price continued, “but now suddenly he is? What kind of game is that? I’ve never played games with you. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and it bleeds for you and no one else.”

“Then why were you flirting with that… man… earlier today?” Thomas asked, his eyes downcast.

“We weren’t flirting. He was whispering to me because he wanted to know if Ellie might be interested in him. But yes, I let you think it was something else because I wanted you to hurt like I was hurting.” Price leaned against the wall. “I suppose if we’re being honest, especially about Eric, then there’s something you should know, too.”

Thomas’s eyes shot up to meet Price’s.

Price crossed his arms. “The day he left, I went to his room to thank him again and make sure the watch band fit. It needed a small adjustment, and I fixed it while he was wearing it. That small bit of contact was enough to excite him, and he kissed me. I don’t mean a little peck, Thomas. He had his tongue halfway down my throat while his hand reached for my trousers.”

Thomas swallowed hard and exhaled through his nose. “Did you kiss him back?”

“No. I pulled away. He tripped over himself to apologize, saying he thought there might’ve been a chance for a relationship between the three of us. I told him he was mistaken, and I only had eyes for you. I actually felt badly for him at the time.”

Thomas ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve created such a mess. It’s not your fault at all, it’s all mine.”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. I wonder, though, if I had kissed him back, whether I’d be the one receiving the love letter.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Thomas said, his mouth dry.

Price walked to Thomas’s door. “If you love him, then by all means, write him back and tell him so. If that is the case, I hope I’m wrong about him.”

Thomas stood and walked toward Price, but Price put up his hand. “No. Goodnight, Thomas. Now I’m the one who needs some space,” he said, letting himself out of the room.

Price held himself together long enough to get back to his room. He ripped off his clothes and threw pajamas on hastily. He shut off the light and curled up in bed facing the wall, pressing his forehead and knees against it. He pulled his arms into his body and let himself cry, hoping it would take the last of his energy to shed tears and he’d somehow fall asleep. Just as he felt sleep start to pull him under, he heard his door open and close,.

“Can we talk?” Thomas asked.

“No, you can get out,” Price said into the wall.

Thomas sat and rested his hand on Price’s hip. Price batted Thomas’s hand away and sat up with a start. “I don’t want to be your plaything,” he hissed, finding Thomas’s eyes in the dark. “You can’t use me when it’s convenient, then toss me aside for a new toy.”

Thomas was taken aback by Price’s temper and waited a beat before speaking. “That’s not what this is at all.”

“I can’t believe how stupid I am,” Price said, his tears returning. He squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s probably right, you are better suited. Why would you ever want me when you could have him?”

“I don’t want him.”

“Yes you do,” Price grabbed Thomas’s shirt in his hand. “You want us both.”

“No, I was just confused,” Thomas said gently, hoping to calm Price.

Price tightened his grip on Thomas’s shirt and pulled him forward, their faces nearly touching. “Not again, Thomas.”

“You should let go.”

“Or what? You’ll find a way to somehow hurt me more than you already have?”

Thomas tried to pull away, but Price grabbed him with both hands.

“Just say the truth,” Price demanded.

“Alright, David,” Thomas said as calmly as he could manage, his throat starting to feel tight. “The truth is, there’s something that tantalizes me about him and I can’t shut it off.”

Price let go of Thomas. “And it’s not just physical attraction.”

“No, it’s not. But you know that.”

Price nodded, settling down from his outburst. “I know. We keep coming back to this. I think we should stop.”

“I don’t want to fight, either.”

“No, I mean stop. I need a break.”

“A break?”

Price pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged them. “If everything we’ve had up until this point isn’t enough, then I will never be enough for you. Maybe not even a break, maybe it's just over.”

“Please don’t say that,” Thomas said, petting Price’s cheek.”We’re just both a little out of our heads. Forget it for tonight.”

“Nothing will change between now and the morning, Thomas.”

Thomas kissed Price’s lips, but Price was stiff and unresponsive. “I’ll end things with him, I promise. I won’t even write him back.”

“That’s not what I want,” Price said, his tears returning.

“What do you want?” Thomas asked, his eyes growing watery. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I want you to admit to me, right now, what kind of life you want and who you want to spend it with.”

“I don’t know,” Thomas answered, a sob lodging in his throat. He took Price’s hand in his. “If I did, we wouldn’t be sitting here like this right now.”

“Then tell me, where do you see things going with Eric?”

Thomas looked away while thinking. “I want to be his friend. I see him in my future, if you’d allow it.”

Price squeezed Thomas’s hand, then lifted it to his lips. “Can you keep these off of him?”

“I can,” Thomas promised, watching Price’s lips on his knuckles. “But can you accept that a part of me may always want to put my hands on him?”

“It’s hard to say. I never, ever want to have to worry that you’d do something behind my back.”

“You can trust me,” Thomas said resolutely, his grey eyes glimmering. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Price let go of Thomas’s fingers. Barely audibly, he whispered, “I don’t know.”

“So there we have it,” Thomas said, his voice not much louder than Price’s. “I’ve ruined everything if you can’t trust me.”

“I want to.”

“But you don’t.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Fine,” Thomas said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “So where do we go from here?”

Price fixed Thomas’s shirt, still rumpled from when he grabbed him. “Let’s take a break and be friends for a little bit while you figure out what you want.”

“What does ‘being friends’ mean?”

“It means I still love you, and want you, but no sex,” Price said smoothing down Thomas’s collar. “It complicates things and you need to think clearly. I know that I’m ready to do anything and everything to be with you, but only if that’s what you want, and only if I can believe that you want it.”

“That’s stupid.”

Price smiled at Thomas’s bluntness. “You said you wanted until Valentine’s Day to think about working for my brother, so take that time to think about everything. I’m not going anywhere. No horse grooms, I promise,” he said with a little laugh. “But clearly whatever we’re doing right now isn’t helping. It isn’t even healthy. I hate how I’m acting.”

Thomas closed his eyes. “I really don’t see how a ‘break’ is the answer.”

“Maybe not, but I know it can’t be like this anymore or I’ll end up crying myself to death.”

“So dramatic,” Thomas said, opening his eyes. “So, you won’t be with me in February?”

“Yes.”

“And no horse grooms in the meantime?”

Price put his hand over his heart. “Not even one.”

Thomas shrugged. “Well, I suppose I have no choice. You’ve already made up your mind.” He rose from the bed. “I still think this is stupid, and I hope you wake up tomorrow and realize the same.”

-----------------------------------------------------------

After breakfast service, Thomas and Price set off on separate missions, but both to find one of the Crawley women; Price went to find Lady Edith in her room, and Thomas found Lady Grantham in the hall.

“My Lady,” Thomas said, standing by a column, “may I have a word?”

“Yes, what is it Barrow?”

“It’s about my sister, your Ladyship.”

“Your sister?”

Thomas took a step closer to Lady Grantham. “She has an illness that I don’t think any doctors in Ripon are suitable to treat. With your connections in the medical community, I wondered if you might be able to help me find a doctor who can help her. I wouldn’t know where to begin to look for one.”

“Oh, my. Well, I don’t know how strong my connections are, but I may be able to try. What kind of illness is it?”

Thomas hesitated, not sure how sympathetic Lady Grantham might be to his sister’s type of illness. “It’s her mind, not her body,” he said, less nervous as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “I don’t know a better way to say it. Lifelong troubles, but getting worse. I’m worried she’ll give up altogether.”

“My goodness,” Lady Grantham said softly. “It would help to know more about it before I really know if I can help. Why don’t you come to the drawing room after tea this afternoon and we can talk further? Mrs. Crawley is coming for dinner, she may be able to help as well.”

“That’s perfect, my Lady,” Thomas said, his smile broader than the polite servant’s smile he usually gave the family.

“You’ve been so loyal to this family for so many years, I’m glad for the chance to help a member of your family in return.”

Thomas beamed, then quickly tamed his smile and tipped his head to Lady Grantham. “Thank you so much.”

“You can thank me if I manage to find a way to help,” Lady Grantham said, returning Thomas’s smile, “but I will do my best.”

Upstairs, Price brought his drawing to Lady Edith’s room between two clean pieces of paper. “Like I said, if it’s not what you want, I will understand.”

“Show me, show me, I’m dying to see it,” Lady Edith begged, clasping her hands together.

Price removed the drawing from its protective sheets and handed it to Lady Edith. She held the paper carefully by the edges and soaked it in before speaking. “It’s perfect. Is that the top I was wearing?”

“No, but you wear it often on the days you go to London, and I always think it looks very smart. I hope you don’t mind.”

Lady Edith smiled at Price, more curious about him than ever. “You remembered exactly what it looked like.”

“Close enough, I hope.”

“I can’t say enough good things about it. Thank you so much, David,” she handed the drawing back to Price. “Let me get your payment before I forget.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Of course I do,” she said, fetching an envelope from her writing desk. “Since you wouldn’t give me a rate, I made a call to find out what the magazine would have paid for a comparable illustration. I hope this is fair compensation,” she said, handing Price the envelope.

“I’m sure it’s more than fair. Thank you, m’Lady,” Price replied, trading the drawing for the envelope.

Price tucked it into his waistcoat and excused himself from Lady Edith’s room. The servant’s stairwell was empty, and Price pulled out the envelope and opened the flap. He counted the contents three times, then ran back to Lady Edith.

“I can’t accept this,” he said, holding the envelope out to Lady Edith.

“Why on earth not?”

“My Lady, it’s too much. That’s... that’s almost a week’s salary for me.”

Lady Edith pushed Price’s hand toward him. “It’s what you’re worth. I won’t hear another word about it.”

“But real artists earn this kind of money, I have no right-”

“Not another word,” Lady Edith said, putting up her hand.

Price put the envelope back in his waistcoat. “You win, m’Lady. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t seem sufficient, but thank you just the same.”

Price and Thomas came across one another in the stairwell. Price ran down the steps to Thomas, meeting him on a landing. He grabbed Thomas’s shoulders and exclaimed, “the best thing just happened to me!” forgetting all of his hurt and heartache, wanting only to share this moment with the person he cared about most.

“Something nice just happened to me, too,” Thomas said, not sure whether he was happier about Lady Grantham’s kind words or Price’s exuberant greeting.

“You go first.”

Thomas relayed his story, quoting her words about his loyalty and her willingness to help in exchange.

“That must feel so validating,” Price observed.

“That’s a good word for it. What’s your news?”

“I drew something for Lady Edith, and it’s going to be published in her magazine,” he explained enthusiastically. “I’ve never been paid for anything artistic, let alone the amount she paid me.”

“How much did she pay you?”

“Just about a week of my salary,” Price replied. “Can you believe it?”

Price’s bubbling joy was infectious, and Thomas wanted to pull him into his arms and kiss his smiling lips. Instead, he gazed down at Price and said evenly, “I can believe your work deserves that kind of payment.”

“You’re so sweet,” Price said, feeling the silent tug of Thomas’s lips in return. “We should… probably get back downstairs.”

Thomas sighed. “Right. Well, go put your loot somewhere safe before you get back to work.”

“Somewhere safe? Like someone would pick my pocket while I’m serving luncheon or something?”

“Where were you going to put it?”

“In a drawer? Under my mattress?”

Thomas sighed again. “My suitcase locks, why don’t you go put it in there?”

“That’s probably a better idea. At least I can't spend it in there.” Price ran up to the dorms, feeling pressure to get back downstairs and back to his duties.

Thomas headed down to the kitchen, and just before he reached it, realized what a bad idea it was to let Price look in his suitcase. He doubled back up the stairs to his room.

As Thomas reached his room, Price was locking the suitcase, sliding it back under the bed. Price looked up at Thomas from the floor. “Naughty, naughty,” he said, rising to his feet.

“I forgot that was in there. I’m sorry.”

Price bit his bottom lip and smiled. “Let me just say the following,” he began, walking to Thomas. He looked up into Thomas’s eyes. “If Valentine’s Day comes and you decide it’s me you really want, then I expect a picture of you like that as my Valentine’s card.”

Thomas smiled, relieved. “I expected you to be angry, or at least unhappy to find it.”

“All’s forgiven the day I get my special picture of you. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Price said, running his finger down the buttons on Thomas’s shirt, “I have work to do.” He pressed his body against Thomas’s as he passed through the doorway, and walked quickly down the hall.

“I’m never going to make it til Valentine’s Day,” Thomas called after him.

“Oh well!” Price called over his shoulder. “I guess the picture can keep you occupied until then!”

__________________________

Price woke up to the sound of his door opening, and then felt the mattress sink down next to him.

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Thomas whispered.

Price laughed and settled into his pillow. “Right. Goodnight, Thomas.”

“No, really. I won’t try anything.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Price asked, rolling over to face Thomas. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to wake up beside you.”

Price sat up. “Don’t be daft, what if someone found out?”

“I’d handle it.”

“How would we even fit? This is the world’s most narrow bed.”

“We’ll fit.”

“I barely fit by myself.”

“Push over.”

Price groaned and laid on his side. He scooted until his back was pressed up against the wall.

“No, lay the other way.”

“And you thought my idea was stupid,” Price said, rolling over to face the wall.

Thomas pulled the covers back and laid down behind Price. He put a leg between Price’s and wrapped an arm around him. “See, we fit just fine,” he said, resting his chin on Price’s shoulder.

“I won’t change my mind by the time we wake up, you know,” Price said over his shoulder.

“But I can stay here until then?”

Price rubbed his feet against Thomas’s and closed his eyes.

“Is that a yes?”

“Shh, I’m trying to sleep.”

Thomas settled in behind Price and held him tighter. He pressed his palm against Price’s chest. He spent a few minutes feeling Price’s heartbeat beneath his hand before falling asleep. Price was up much longer, torn between wanting to push Thomas away and wanting to turn around and embrace him. He finally fell asleep, Thomas’s hand still on his chest.

Thomas awoke in the middle of the night. He sat up and nudged Price, telling him to roll over. Price complied without waking fully. Thomas settled into bed with his back to Price. He reached for Price’s arm and tucked it beneath his own. Price pulled Thomas into a hug, nuzzling his face between Thomas’s shoulder blades.

“Are you awake?” Thomas whispered.

Price threw his leg over Thomas, holding him tighter still. His breathing slowed and he fell back into a deep sleep quickly, attached to Thomas like a knapsack. Thomas thought maybe he should stay awake, enjoying lying with Price as long as possible, but Price’s rhythmic breathing was too soothing and it lulled Thomas back asleep.

They both woke before Price’s alarm, each stretching and grunting.

“Good morning,” Thomas whispered.

“Good morning,” Price replied with a sleepy smile. He hid his eyes in the crook of his elbow to block out the rising sun. “So what’s your excuse if someone asks what you were doing in here?” he asked with the rasp of the morning’s first words.

“I’d think of something, but no one’s awake besides us. I’ll be fine if I go now.”

“Mmm, true.”

Thomas looked down at his bare hand. “You know, I think you’re the only man I’ve shown my hand to since the war.”

Price lifted his arm and opened an eye. “Really?”

“Well, without showing it for effect. Are we ‘being friends’ today?” Thomas asked, still looking at his hand.

“I still think it’s a good idea.”

“I still think it’s idiotic, but whatever you say. See you at breakfast, I suppose,” Thomas said, rising from the bed.

Price watched Thomas leave and then rolled onto his stomach. He nestled into his pillow, and when he inhaled, he could still smell Thomas on the pillowcase. He ran his hand over the pillow and pictured a fictional life where he could wake up to Thomas every morning, a life where he never had to worry if Thomas wanted to wake up next to someone else.
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Footman in Training