The heavy doors of the Abbey opened once again, for the hundredth time that night. Charles Carson, esteemed butler of the house was, to say the least, exhausted. It had been hours since the party had started, and now everyone was slowly heading towards the main entrance, waiting for their cars to be brought by the front steps. The whole family was in the hall, eyes flickering with tiredness, shivering slightly, but happy. There hadn't been such an evening organized at the Abbey for ages, and it was nice for everyone to forget, if only for one night, that times were changing, and that such a lifestyle would soon disappear.
'Carson, please see to the Baroness, and then go to bed. His lordship and I shouldn't be requiring anything from Anna and Bates tonight' signaled a rather drunk Lady Grantham, pulling her husband behind her towards the stairs. Chuckling at the lack of decorum, both the Crawley daughters followed them, their pace slower, as if to keep for one more moment the contentment they had felt during the evening. Edith couldn't have wished for a nicer night, as Michael and her had finally been reunited, and little Marigold had eventually met her father. As for Mary, she had finally decided that she'd better alone than risking her reputation once again.
Carson smiled as he saw them disappear in the stairs. Though they had never been on the same level, the fondness he had for the family had never faltered, and he was proud to be, just like the very stones themselves, a part of the Abbey. No, he would never be a part of the Crawley family. And if at some point in his life, he had been a bit pained to admit that, today was different. Christmas had been the last moment he'd ever had to feel loneliness, as if he had not been belonging there. Christmas had been the last moment he had felt sad, hopeless and tired of life. This very same life he had been living for more than fifty years, serving the Crawleys, answering bells and seeing standards dropping and their lifestyle vanish, bit by bit. But today, none of this mattered anymore. His steps were light as he headed downstairs to check if the rest of the staff had gone to bed. Or at least most of them. He knew Anna and Mr. Bates would still be there, probably chatting with Mr. Moseley and Miss Baxter. The butler, normally obvious of the exchanges happening between members of the staff, could see a hint of romance blossoming when watching the footman and the ladies maid. But Charles Carson was too absorbed by his own thoughts to even care. What's more, his relatively stoic heart had mellowed during the past few weeks. And as he opened the door to his pantry, he could see the cause of these changes sat in his chair, going over the accounts he should have been during that night, had he not been held back upstairs.
Mrs Hughes looked up when she heard the door open, and sat back while the butler came into the room, closing the door behind him.
'You've been busy I see' he pointed towards the discarded ledgers.
'I just thought it would be nice if I could lighten your load for tonight' she smiled.
'You shouldn't have…' he started to protest, but was cut off by the wave of her hand.
'I was merely being selfish Mr. Carson. It's been quite a while since we've had a quiet evening, sipping cherry, and I wanted for us to relax a bit tonight', she blushed slightly at her admission.
'Very well', he surrendered, 'but don't make a habit of it' he warned, a small smile spreading on his lips, betraying his cheek. She smiled back and bowed her head softly in agreement. They went back to their routine, him pouring cherry, bent over his desk, her going to the kitchen to fetch some biscuits to satisfy the butler's sweet tooth. They then sat together, on each side of the desk, him in his large wooden chair, her on the smaller one, the guest's. Mr. Carson stared at her after a few moments and sighed. He got up.
'This will never do…' Mrs. Hughes heard him mumble while he was looking across the room. In two strides, he had come around the desk and was standing in front of her.
'What's the matter?' she asked, puzzled.
He blushed furiously, suddenly feeling like an idiot.
'Well, you see… I w-was just wondering…'.
She smiled at him encouragingly, and after a deep breath, he looked at her in the eyes.
'I just thought it might be nice to sit next to each other, that's all'. He looked up, and upon seeing her bemused expression, faltered and stumbled on is words. 'I mean –that's only if you'd like it as well of course.' Shaking his head, he stepped back. 'Please forget about this nonsense…', but she caught his arm. He looked down, startled, and then looked up to study her face.
'I'd like that, Mr. Carson, very much' she smiled nervously.
He nodded slowly, and then took her hand, beckoning her to stand up. She watched him carry her chair across the room, setting it next to his own, behind the desk. He then looked back at her, smiling and extending his hand once again to lead her to sit. Only he didn't let go. Not that she minded, but her heart skipped a beat as they both sat down and he kept her hand tucked between his own, absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb over her palm. They both took a look at the room in front of them. The Housekeeper chuckled slightly, earning an eyebrow-rise from the butler. She shook her head happily.
'It's just that we must look like two right fools, sitting on the same side of the desk, next to each other'. She knew that anyone walking in at that moment would find their position extremely odd, to say the least. But her thought disappeared when she heard his voice rumble.
'It's just as it should be'.
Silence.
He could feel her gaze on him, but was not about to take back what he had just said. After decades of running the house side by side, enjoying cherry in her sitting room, still side by side, there was no way he would miss an opportunity to be by her side now. Amongst all time, that's where he was meant to be. He hoped that she could understand how much he meant by simply moving her chair next to his. He'd marry her, as his equal, the one he'd share everything with. Soon, she'd be Mrs. Carson, and he would be able to do so much more to show his care than just moving her chair around. But for now, it would have to be the proof of his love. Because it was love. Pure, burning and endless.
Bringing her hand to his lips, his eyes met hers as he kissed each of her knuckles. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she brought her other hand to rest on his cheek. Painfully slowly, he let go of her hand and brought his to her face, his thumbs wiping the tears off. She closed her eyes, and before she could realize it, his lips were lingering on hers, the ghost of a kiss anchoring in her heart. He pulled back slowly as she blinked, and her gaze settled on him. She sighed and, after swallowing, stood up.
'This, Mr. Carson' she said, 'will never do'.
He blinked, surprised.
'Yes', she kept going, 'as lovely as this is, you can't kiss me properly with two armrests barring the way between us'. She cleared her throat. This was not going to be easy. 'Oh damn it', she thought, 'just tell him how you bloody feel'. At that she looked up, flushed.
'And I would like that very much, Mr. Carson' she finally said' for you to kiss me. Properly'.
If the butler's jaw could have dropped, it would have. Recovering quickly though, he stood up next to her. His thoughts were running freely as he looked for a way to express his love. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he guided her to stand in front of him, between his chair and the desk. Shyness was starting to take over her he thought, and he couldn't bear for her to feel ashamed of her revelation, when it had been the only thing clinking to his mind all day. Gently, his hands took hers and pulled her closer, guiding them to rest on his shoulders while his own came to her waist. She gazed down, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. He bent down a bit, their eyes meeting. He smiled. She smiled back. Her hands moved to lock behind his neck as she relaxed. He smiled again and bent down once more to slowly capture her lips.
This second kiss was all that the previous one had not been. No hesitation there. In an instant, they were lost, the housekeeper's hands coming to grasp at his lapel, bringing him impossibly closer, while the butler hummed his agreement. Passion, desire, they both tried to convey through that kiss what was not to be said. Not yet, but soon. The back of Mrs. Hughes thighs came to rest upon the desk, and in an attempt to come even closer, she found herself being pushed backwards, halfway lying on top of the ledgers. The moan escaping her, mingled with a surprised yelp, seemed to bring the butler back to his senses and, alarmed, he pulled her into a standing position. They remained close, breathing hard, smiling.
'So much for the couple in their late middle-age' she laughed, causing him to chuckle as well.
Looking around, he sat back down in his armchair and brought her to sit on his lap, burying his face into her neck. Lacing her fingers with his, both of them stayed quiet for a while. Looking at her again, he brought his hand to caress her cheek.
'You know Mrs. Hughes, there's something I meant to tell you' he started. She waited, puzzled.
'I should have told you, instead of Mrs. Patmore. But I love you, deeply, and you're already making me very happy'. Looking up, he saw her watery smile, heard her light sigh. She affectionately brushed his unruly curl back to his place, at loss for words.
Bringing her face to his, he stared at her for a moment before he spoke again.
'I love you, and you're beautiful… Elsie'.
The smile on her face had never been brighter, and soon disappeared as he kissed her one more time.
