**I had to edit the entire chapter! I wrote this before Series/Season 5 took place so I had no idea that the happy bit between Carson and Hughes would take place! So if you don't want a spoiler, avoid the prologue first!

Prologue

May 1926

Daisy Mason looked at the window of the kitchen at Downton Abbey. It would be her last two months serving the family. She promised as much, in order to help her replacement, Jean-a young Scottish woman who had once been a VAD in the war over ten years ago-to adjust to her new job.

"Daisy?" Mrs. Patmore was the owner of the voice who called out to her. Daisy turned to see her in the doorway of the kitchen.

"I'm here," she said. "Just looking at the flowers outside the window. Springtime's beautiful, isn't it?" In her twenty years at Downton, Daisy knew she couldn't fool her direct superior. She was thinking, as well. Of William, and the new life she would have-and she should have had with him. But of course it didn't happen. It never would. She could still remember that evening, when he first came to the kitchen in his uniform. William had been conscripted, and he had finished training.

William, I don't believe it!

Pinch me; I am your dream come true.

You're like a real soldier.

I am a real soldier, thank you very much. Now come and give me a kiss.

That kiss didn't happen, Daisy reflected. In her memory, she only kissed him twice, she thought. The first one was when she was trying to cheer him up after the unkind women had given him the white feather. She was eighteen then, and very much confused. She didn't know what she felt then. And then, there was his deathbed wedding. She was married at twenty, but her feelings were still muddled then. Having grown up in a home without love, she never really knew that she was loved unconditionally. And her father-in-law treated her like she was his own flesh and blood.

"Mrs. Mason?" Jean murmured.

"Oh...you're here. I'm sorry. Mrs. Patmore, Miss Muirfield, you've caught me woolgathering." Mrs. Patmore said nothing, but nodded sadly. If Daisy wasn't mistaken, there was a sheen of tears in the older woman's grey-green eyes. She would miss her-she and the now Mrs. Carson (the Carsons would be celebrating their first wedding anniversary, yet Daisy sometimes still had trouble calling the former Elsie Hughes Mrs. Carson) had been like her mothers. It was amazing how a little girl of seven would be given up for dead by her family be "adopted" in a large household-including her employers, which included an earl and a countess, and their three daughters. The youngest died in childbirth, and one son-in-law died in a car accident. Of course, when she was old enough, she had to earn a living, but she knew she was cared for. And at that time, Daisy didn't think it was love. But she knew she had a family of some sorts, and she drew strength from it.

She went through the motions of orienting Jean. Jean was cook and nurse in a hospital somewhere in France. So the meals she'd cooked were nothing like the meals that Daisy served to the family then, even during the war. At least she knew the basics, she reflected. Things like chopping and boiling.

"I'll try to remember how to bake a pie, Mrs. Mason." Daisy looked at her replacement. Jean was tall, fair-haired, and solidly-built. In a strange way, Jean reminded her of Ivy-where looks were concerned. But she didn't simper, which endeared her to Daisy. In fact, Jean Muirfield was a sensible person.

"If you don't mind...how old were you when you volunteered?"

Jean Muirfield smiled. "1916. I was sixteen then. And since I was tall and looked a bit older than most girls in my village in Glasgow, it was easy to tell the people in Red Cross that I was eighteen." Daisy listened to her intently. "What was it like-the hospitals? Or...you'd rather forget it happened?" The other girl shook her head. "You don't forget these things. Every day, in the wards, you'd see men-mangled, murdered, their legs or arms blown off. Why do you ask, Mrs. Mason?" Daisy sighed. Even after eight years, it still hurt to tell, although she had a reason to be proud. Her late husband died from injuries he sustained while saving the heir to the Earl of Grantham. William was a hero.

"Just Daisy, please. Nothing...my husband died of injuries in the war. He...he was just brought home-here-to die. He was injured during the Battle of Amiens," Daisy answered. Bravely, she added, "sometimes, I wondered why there even was a war-so many homes, so many dreams have gone to waste." She closed her eyes, steadying herself, "Right. I'll introduce you to Christine, the kitchen maid. Mrs. Patmore sent her out on an errand. She should be here by now." Turning to Mrs. Patmore, she said, "Now, don't worry about Christine. I'll be here when she arrives."

Daisy nodded at Jean. "Let's go. I'll take you to Mrs. Carson, and then the two of you can talk. I'll keep a watch for our kitchen maid, lest Mrs. Patmore be on the warpath. I was a kitchen maid once, so I can imagine how terrified Christine can be of her." she said to Mrs. Patmore with a mischievous grin. Mrs. Patmore chuckled. "I heard that, you naughty girl." Daisy only laughed. "I'll be quick," she promised.

She was able to keep her word, and still no Christine. Daisy was now worried, especially when it began to rain. She would have to gently remind the girl to walk a little faster. Hm. As if you didn't dawdle in your life.

*Note: I had to use these lines from canon, as to help Daisy bring back that evening when she first saw William in uniform. Yes, the scene where Daisy went to hug William when he asked her to give her a kiss. Of course we knew Mrs. Patmore put a stop to that.