✔️ shadows of desire | downton abbey

chapter 11

The Crawleys had gone to bed, leaving the grand estate in a hushed silence. The aroma of polished wood and aged paper filled the library as I meticulously rearranged the books, restoring order for the day ahead. Lady Mary had left a book on the table, and of course, it belonged on the highest shelf. I climbed the ladder, the rungs creaking softly under my weight, and carefully placed the book in its rightful spot.

"Good evening, I am sorry to disturb you," came a voice from behind, startling me slightly.

I turned to see Mr. Crawley standing in the doorway. "Good evening, Mr. Crawley," I replied, my heart still racing from the surprise. "Are you looking for someone? Everyone has already gone to bed."

He nodded, his expression weary. "I know. I just needed some alone time," he said, settling into the freshly fluffed pillows on the couch.

Inside, I winced a little, watching my hard work being undone in mere seconds. However, fatigue held my tongue. As I stepped down from the ladder, I missed a step and tumbled forward. In an instant, strong arms caught me, steadying me before I hit the ground.

I breathed heavily as the shock began to wear off. "Goodness, thank you," I whispered, my voice shaky.

"I'm glad you're not hurt," he said softly. "I see you have healed quite nicely since I last saw you."

I nodded, grateful for the dim light that hid my blush. "I have. Please send Mrs. Crawley my deepest appreciation for her help."

"I will," he replied, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer. "I should probably go now. Good night, Miss Barrow." He left the library, the door closing softly behind him.

I fluffed the pillows again, my mind replaying the moment. He caught me even though he didn't need to. Was he actually a gentleman?

"Eden, are you finally done?" Thomas's voice broke through my reverie.

I nodded, trying to shake off my thoughts. "Yes, I'm sorry to keep you waiting."

"What just happened? You're different," he said, eyeing me curiously.

I shook my head, dismissing his observation. "No, you must be imagining that. Perhaps you should go to bed."

He nodded slowly. "Perhaps. Come, let's go." We made our way to the servants' quarters in silence, the house around us quiet and still. I bid Thomas good night as I locked the door separating the men's and women's quarters from each other.

In my room, I undid my apron and slipped out of my dress, flinging it onto the nearest chair before changing into my nightgown. I climbed into bed, the cool sheets a welcome relief.

Despite my exhaustion, my mind refused to rest. I replayed the evening's events, the feel of Mr. Crawley's arms around me, his unexpected kindness. Could it be that there was more to him than the arrogance I had seen before? The thought kept me awake long into the night, my mind racing with possibilities.

***

Morning arrived too soon, the early light filtering through the small window of my quarters. The sounds of the household stirring to life reached my ears—pots clanging in the kitchen, footsteps on the creaky floorboards, and hushed conversations as the other servants began their day. Despite my restless night, I pulled myself out of bed and dressed quickly, ready to resume my duties.

The aroma of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee greeted me as I entered the kitchen. Mrs. Patmore was already bustling about, barking orders at Daisy, who was frantically trying to keep up.

"Eden, there you are!" Mrs. Hughes called, her authoritative voice cutting through the kitchen clamour. "I need you to help set up for breakfast in the dining room."