A/N: Inspired by certain pictures and several seconds of video from Tumblr. Please be kind, I've never tried to write like this. I woke up at 3 am today (Saturday) with this in my head.
The conversation had been all awkwardness (when had they ever been able to speak of their feelings without it?), but necessary. She had been terribly embarrassed that Mrs. Patmore, of all people, had had to encourage them to speak of it to each other. Hours later, after dinner upstairs, she could not think of it without her heart beating wildly and her face aflame.
He tried to ignore the whispering in the servants' hall, the side looks when they thought he didn't notice. At times it felt unbearable to know that the staff all were speculating about the real nature of their relationship. It was a relief when the evening was over, his Lordship had gone to bed, and he could lock up for the night.
She still sat working. The dinner party next week, although not on a scale as before, still commanded details to be finalized. Mr. Talbot would be attending, so Lady Mary of course had spoken to Mr. Carson. She sighed, shaking her head. She hoped that the woman would someday realize that the Butler now had priorities other than her own. To his great credit, he had tried to explain to her. But the eldest daughter of the house still seemed to be in a bit of denial that Mr. Carson was actually engaged to be married.
He knocked on her door and poked his head in. "Will you be much later? I've locked up," he took in the welcome sight of his fiancée when she turned in her chair. "You should go to bed. It's very late, I don't want you overworking yourself."
She smiled at his worry. "I'm finished here. I'm just going up now." She rose from her desk and switched the light off before joining him in the empty hall. "I'm sorry we missed our evening sherry."
He brushed off the apology. "Don't trouble yourself. It's been a long day-" he leaned over to whisper in her ear as they approached the stairs- "-though I did miss spending my evening with you."
Blushing, she was glad of the dim light. "I missed you, as well." The backs of their hands brushed against each other, but neither moved apart. They stood for a moment at the bottom of the stairs. She was sure he could hear her heart beating. Ever since their engagement, a small part of her hoped that he would kiss her. The most that had happened so far were a few moments of hand-holding over a drink. He had always been first to pull away.
He stood and looked down at her. He wanted to-but what if she didn't? He was terrified of impropriety. And after that agonizing conversation earlier, it seemed all the harder to behave. It was one thing to know that she looked forward to being his wife in that way. But they were not yet married. There were still standards that had to be maintained. He cleared his throat, looking somewhere over her right shoulder. His resolve would not last if he continued to hold her gaze.
"Goodnight, Mrs. Hughes," he whispered. "Pleasant dreams."
Her shoulders slumped. Really, how could she think he would change? But it was really quite infuriating that even a simple peck on the cheek was beyond him.
"Goodnight, Mr. Carson," she said, a slight wobble in her voice. "Sleep well." She started up the stairs, but to her surprise she had only climbed two when he took her hand.
It was pure instinct. The moment he saw the disappointment in her face, he knew what she wanted. He could never bear to be in disagreement with her. But what made him grab her hand was something that, until their engagement, he had barely let himself remember.
He was a man. Not the Butler. And she was a woman. Not the Housekeeper.
Propriety be damned.
"Mr. Carson?" She whispered, turning on the stair. As she stood above him, their heads were nearly level. He held her hand, and her gaze. Without dropping either, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her bare knuckles.
His touch went straight from her hand into her center. A hitch in her breath, a gasp, escaped from her. She took one step down, more to keep her knees from giving out than anything. His eyes still on hers, he turned her hand over.
He then pressed his lips to her wrist.
An audible moan echoed through the downstairs. He reached out with his left hand and grasped her waist.
She was glad of his support. Her legs felt as weak as water. She cautiously stretched out her left hand, and rested it on his shoulder. He kissed her wrist again, keeping his lips on her skin as she let out another moan, a soft oh, gripping his shoulder tighter. He looked up from her arm, a silent plea in his eyes.
"Mrs. Hughes, may I-"
"Yes." A ghost of a whisper carried to his ear the only word he wanted to hear. Her eyes were dark. He leaned forward, feeling her hand drift across his shoulder to the back of his neck. He almost came undone at the touch of her fingers at the base of his scalp.
He licked his lips without thinking, before pressing them to hers. He kissed her softly, slowly, gently. Her other hand untangled itself from his and joined its sister, pulling him closer to her. Somehow both of his hands had slid down and caressed her back.
His kisses drove her wild. She leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body through his coat. She ran her fingers into his hair. When he pulled away for a moment to catch a breath, she kissed him full on the mouth. He groaned into hers before leaving to kiss along her jawbone. He nipped her earlobe, and she gasped aloud at the sensation.
She thought for certain that he would stop then. Instead, with a quick glance to make sure she was all right, he then bent his head. His eyes were dark, the color of the night. He pressed his soft lips to the side of her neck.
He should stop. He knew he should stop. But the sighs and soft moans and gasps that she was making made it impossible to stop. We shouldn't be doing this, not here, not now, it's not proper, yes we should, yes, we should, we should have done this years ago, yes, oh God, yes, woman, what you do to me-
She wondered vaguely if this was what dying felt like. Or maybe this was living, and she had never lived until now. All she could do was hang onto him, her breathing erratic, her heart dancing a wild reel. We shouldn't, we shouldn't, we must stop, oh God, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop my man, please don't stop, yes, yes-
A distant sound forced them apart. A reminder that they were not alone in this vast house. Her hands were still clasped behind his neck, while his held her hips. He sighed against her neck, his breath warm. He slowly pulled himself away, but gently held her hands. A light glimmered in his eyes, and no, her eyes did not deceive her. A rather roguish smile played on his lips. She laughed shakily, her heart thrumming. He pulled a hand to his lips and kissed it again. Chaste.
He looked down, their fingers moving together. He shook his head, a short burst of laughter coming from his lips.
"What is it?" she asked. Her voice sounded different to her, deeper. She touched his forehead, his temple. He kissed her hand again.
"Nothing." He almost looked as before. Afraid.
"Tell me," she said, still stroking his face. "Please."
He took a deep, shuddering breath, like that day at the beach. "I love you."
Her heart felt as though it would burst. Biting her lip to keep from weeping, she looked at him with shining eyes as a tear dangled in one corner. "I love you," she breathed.
Nothing that she had ever said, not even when she accepted his proposal, meant more to him. He kissed her once more on the lips. It lingered long and slow. "Good night, my love," he whispered as it ended. "Have pleasant dreams."
She laughed and wiped the corner of her eye. "I certainly will, Mr. Carson. Good night." She gave him one last, loving glance before turning to finally climb the stairs. He smiled as she stumbled twice before finding her footing.
She had to hold onto the railing to keep her balance. Her entire body hummed with the memory of his touch. Yes, she knew exactly what she would dream about.
After ascending the stairs after her, he stood for a brief moment at the top. "She loves me," he whispered to the Abbey. He then turned off the last light and went to bed, remembering the kisses of the woman he loved.