She was already at the dance when he arrived.
When she'd knocked on the door to his pantry and asked if they should walk to the church hall together, he'd been worried about her reputation; and his own, if he was honest.
He was the butler, she the housekeeper. They were in positions that were above such things as normal romantic relationships. Besides which, they already spent entirely too much time in each other's company.
They drank tea together in his pantry each morning before the staff formally met in the dining room for breakfast. They were, of course, discussing the smooth operation of the house during these purely professional appointments.
After the family finally turned in for the night, he would retire to her parlour where they would share a tray for supper. Sometimes they would read, but usually they were much too tired to do more than just talk over the day's happenings. Or, he now realised, they never talked at all. He couldn't, however, remember any awkward silences.
So, an hour ago, mindful that he should not encourage her in any way, he'd made an excuse, and waved her on ahead of him.
Now, as he stood near the entrance to the hall where the dance was taking place, he took but a moment to locate her. His eyes were automatically drawn to the proud way she held her shoulders back and the familiar hairdo of tight dark red curls.
She was doing something he hadn't been expecting at all.
She was dancing.
Not an unusual thing for someone to do at a dance, he reminded himself.
She was waltzing across the floor in the arms of Doctor Clarkson.
Making his way to the refreshments table, he gulped down some fiery alcoholic liquid, hoping it would burn a hole straight through his heart.
As he saw it, he didn't have any hold over Elsie Hughes. She was her own free woman, and, as such, she could dance with whomever she wanted.
He was only concerned because the doctor had been a widower now for several years. Elsie would make a good doctor's wife. Doctors' wives tended to be sensible women; strong women who weren't prone to hysterics.
He wasn't thinking about his personal feelings towards Elsie. It was simply that Downton couldn't afford to lose a housekeeper.
His quick glance in the direction of the dance floor confirmed the couple had at last stopped touching each other. They had not, however, moved away a respectful distance. Elsie was smiling up at the doctor, the angle showing all and sundry the natural elegance she was graced with.
All and sundry had probably also noticed the way the doctor couldn't keep his eyes off the Downton housekeeper. It would probably be all over the village first thing in the morning.
She was obviously only being polite to Clarkson, as anyone in her position would be of a man who held such a respectful occupation.
He should do the right thing, and ensure Elsie was not subjected to gossip.
He placed his glass firmly down upon the table.
He would ask Elsie Hughes to dance himself. And then, when the dance was over, he would ensure he walked her back to the house.
After all, he wasn't a man to shirk his duties or responsibilities.