Another prompt. Hope you like it.
It seemed that Thomas was out to cause her as much trouble as possible. Only he could be responsible for this. If he couldn't get secrets out of her in the tried and tested way, he find a way to would create new secrets to blackmail her with. She looked ruefully at the bundle of mistletoe hanging over her head. She tried not to look at the man before her. She wasn't sure what quite sure what look to expect on Mr Molesley's face when he caught sight of where, exactly, they had positioned themselves.
But, it was inevitable, his eyes could not help follow hers, so firmly were they fixed. And she did catch a glimpse of his expression; to her surprise, a smile quirked in his lips, one which fell firmly when he saw the look of dismay on her face. Oh, good lord, he had actually wanted to kiss her. Well, she hadn't expected him to be upset for that reason.
They were, by all appearances, alone in the servants' hall.
"What's wrong?" he asked her quietly, seeing the look on her face.
"I have a strong suspicion that Thomas might be lurking just around the corner," she replied, in a low whisper.
"Ah, I see," he replied.
He was quiet after that. Then, quickly he reached up and unhooked the mistletoe from where it was fastened on to the light.
"I think I can endure a little bit of bad luck to preserve your good name, Miss Baxter," he told her softly.
Then, holding out his hand, he gave her the mistletoe.
"I'll leave you to dispose of it safely," he told her, "To give you some peace of mind."
She was left standing alone in the servants' hall, holding a bunch of mistletoe in her left hand, feeling rather foolish and confused.
….
It was shaping up to be a convivial evening in the servants' hall. Her Ladyship had wanted to go to bed early, and by the time Phyllis got back downstairs, everyone seemed occupied with something. One of the hall boys was at the piano, and Thomas could be seen dancing with Daisy. Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes seemed emerged in their respective tasks. Her eyes settled on Mr Molesley, sitting mercifully near the door, a book open on the table in front of him.
She stepped into the room and touched him gently on the shoulder. He looked up, smiling as he saw that it was her.
Silently, she indicated that he should follow her. He did so immediately, leaving his book open on the table.
She led him down the deserted passageway, into the boot room. He seemed a little confused, maybe, but asked no questions. He seemed to trust her.
Closing the door quietly behind them, she turned to him. She did not switch on the light.
"Thank you for what you did earlier," she told him, "I appreciated it very much."
"That's alright," he told her, "Only too glad to help. I don't like to see Thomas push anyone around."
She smiled.
"All the same," she told him, "I don't think it's quite fair that you should have to suffer bad luck for your kindness to me."
"What do you mean?" he asked her.
Stretching out her arm, she was able to retrieve the mistletoe she'd left on the shelf at the side of the room after he'd given it to her. Not knowing quite what to say, she simply raised her arm so that the mistletoe hung above their heads, as it had done before. She simply smiled at him, not a little imploringly, hoping against hope that she hadn't mistaken the crestfallen look on his face earlier when she had asked him not to kiss her.
She blinked. He was smiling. Her heart seemed to skip a beat.
"You're sure?" he asked her.
"Yes!" she told him, laughing a little, "Of course I'm sure."
He leant towards her, cupping her cheek with his hand, pressing his lips softly against hers. She smiled into the gentle kiss, making her lips part a little, almost unintentionally. She heard him sigh quietly, pressing more firmly against her. She threw caution to the wind, and let the mistletoe fall to the floor beside them, wrapping her arms around his neck and continuing to kiss him.
"Merry Christmas, Mr Molesley," she whispered when they pulled apart.
End.
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