My addition to the cottage conversations after S05 E06.
Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes had set aside the day to look at the last and final cottage on their list. It was located near Mrs. Patmore's cottage and Mr. Carson reasoned that if it suited their needs then they could help Mrs. Patmore keep check on her cottage until she too retired. While they had looked at several cottages the discerning eyes of both the housekeeper and the butler, picked apart most of them. From the outdoor privies that Mr. Carson refused to consider (he would never be convinced to accept outdoor accommodations again) to Mrs. Hughes refusal to accept small windows or a lack of electricity, they were determined to find just the right cottage to spruce up. They reasoned that modern conveniences would bring the most rental income.
"Well, this is it Mrs. Hughes. It is rather small compared to the others that we've looked at," Mr. Carson laughed nervously as he retrieved the key from his coat pocket and unlocked the front door. She loved to hear Mr. Carson laugh. He had been doing more of that lately. Not guffawing laughter, but a small chuckle here and there, amused really. But light hearted nonetheless.
"Not small Mr. Carson, cozy," Mrs. Hughes replied with a smile in her voice as she swept into the cottage.
They walked through the cottage that was not nearly as large as Mrs. Patmore's cottage. The sitting room was warm and inviting with a large, deep old stone fireplace with a long, ancient beam mantelpiece. Perfect, Elsie thought, for placing whatnots and family pictures. Dark roughhewn timbers crossed the plaster ceiling and a smooth stone floor ran the length and breadth of the room. Charles envisioned a well-worn leather chair next to fire, a book on a small table next to it.
The cottage had a modest kitchen with a heavy, wood burning stove and a large window over a deep sink. "We'd need an icebox," Mr. Carson remarked to himself as they inspected the room. He didn't think that she heard him, but a small smile crossed her lips. Daft man. Investment property, indeed. He watched her as she tested the taps, making sure that they did not leak and then inspected the sink for cracks and scratches. She ran her nail over a couple of nicks and sighed. No matter though, things needn't be perfect, she thought. He watched her as she moved the curtains to side and peered out the window over the sink into the back garden. He admired her form as she stretched across the sink and could envision her looking into their back garden as he planted roses for her and some daisies for himself.
"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Carson," she called to him softly. She had caught him out. As he broke from his little daydream, he shook his head gently and flustered sweetly.
"Oh nothing," he lied.
The moved to the bathroom. Both thankful for the indoor plumbing. "Quite serviceable," Mrs. Hughes cheered. A large bathtub, a sink, a toilet. Basic, but functional and in good condition. They hesitated for a moment, though why neither was certain. After all, this was a business venture after all. Why then would examining the bedroom, the lone bedroom pose any apprehension?
The bedroom had the same heavy beams of the sitting room, the same stone floor as the rest of the house, a nice window to allow in the warm morning sun and the cool evening moonlight. Elsie was the first to make her way into the room. Might as well, she reasoned. She looked around the room, went to the window to appreciate the view. Mr. Carson followed, inspected the ceiling, the walls. Checked for cracks, water damage. Found none.
"Well, Mrs. Hughes, what do you think?" he asked with a note of hope in his voice.
"Well, it is very nice. Could do with a bit of a cleaning," she chuckled. She turned serious for a moment, looking him directly in the eyes. "It is a big investment. And, it is nicer than the ones we've seen with more bedrooms. Are you sure that one bedroom is enough?" She hoped that he understood her question. Hoped that she had not misjudged his suggestion of a partnership.
Mr. Carson tugged at his waistcoat and then closed the distance between them. "Mrs. Hughes," he began. His mouth felt very dry, his lips parched, he licked them and began again. "Mrs. Hughes, perhaps, ahem, the occupants of this cottage will only require one bedroom. Perhaps this cottage is ideal for a married couple. Perhaps a retired couple."
Mrs. Hughes flashed a brilliant smile. "Then it is a wise investment indeed, Mr. Carson."