A/N: A request from Phyllibee on tumblr as I was going to Greece, who asked 'After the scene in which Mrs H tells Mr Carson about her sister and Bates interrupts them in the end, I was wondering if you'd have any ideas about how their conversation goes on?' This is my take. (My trip to Greece was really productive, wasn't it)

'I hope you buy it, you've earned it.' A look of concern crossed her face as a possibility occurred to her. 'I hope you're able to without me!'

'I am, but …' he gestured, trying to find the words to express that he didn't think it would be the same without her to share the delights and trials such a venture would provide, but was prevented from saying more by the interruption of Mr Bates and the possibility of more bad news about Anna.

When privacy was restored to them, he turned to face her and noted with dismay that she refused to fully meet his eye. He cast about for a topic of conversation and almost without thinking asked 'What's she like?'

Mrs Hughes did not have to ask him whom he meant, but she was surprised that he should ask. Hardly anyone expressed further interest once she had explained her sister's condition. She wondered if his enquiry was prompted from pity for this impoverished woman before him, but one look at his face assured her of his genuine and sincere interest, and she swallowed the sharp retort she had been preparing to snap at him.

'She's much taller than me' she began, a fond look creeping into her eyes as she pictured her sister. 'Although, that's hardly surprising, given my stature.'

'Small, but perfectly formed' thought Mr Carson, but did not allow himself to voice the compliment. Instead he just smiled and gestured that she should continue.

'She's very slender, which comes from never having much of an appetite. I'm not sure why, but the doctor says it's connected to everything else. She has a terrific energy, she never walks when she can run. She's prone to colds, but is always losing her handkerchiefs.' She lapsed into silence, aware she was sharing only of trivialities, but was unsure how much detail he wanted. Her hands clenched together as she remembered previous enquiries which had then been used against her. But if she couldn't trust him, then really the last twenty years had been for naught.

'You said she wasn't quite right in the head. Would you … I mean, do you mind explaining? I won't press you if you'd rather not – I've no wish to upset you.'

She smiled at his gentle enquiry and counted her blessings once more that it should be him she was able to confide in.

'It's not upsetting – well, not really. I should have told you years ago, but some people don't take kindly to those that are different and I suppose I've learned not to put my trust in anyone where Becky is concerned.'

She took a breath or two to ground herself a little before continuing. It was strange to be talking of such personal things after a lifetime of keeping them in the shadows.

'There's ten years between Becky and myself and although my mother's pregnancy went well, something apparently went wrong at the birth, or shortly after it. I'm not entirely sure what it was, as I'd been sent away to a neighbouring farm and it was never fully explained. She's …. It's hard to properly explain, but although she's over fifty, she's not got much more understanding than a child. She gets very frustrated.'

'Is she violent?'

'Hmm - It's more that she doesn't know her own strength. My parents and I could always calm her, but then she trusted us. When confronted by people she doesn't know or who don't understand, that's when the trouble starts. If I could have her with me, I would, but no one would ever accept a maid with an extra mouth to feed. She wouldn't have understood how to light a fire, let alone anything else. She's well cared for at the institution at Lytham. It's a damn sight better than a workhouse.'

He noted the determination in her tone, and the grimace as she thought of what a workhouse might bring. He was reminded of another time, and certain things clicked in his understanding. 'That's why you were so set on helping Grigg.' he mused.

'Partly' smiled Mrs Hughes, glad for the slight change of topic. 'But that also had something to do with not casting off old friends, no matter the history.'

'Indeed. I might be beginning to understand you at last.'

'Will wonders never cease, Mr Carson?!'

They shared a smile and lapsed into silence. Mrs Hughes thought that the subject had come to a natural end and was therefore surprised when Mr Carson spoke again.

'Is she happy there? I mean, would she be better elsewhere? I'd be happy to assist with costs. I don't mean charity, old friendship such as ours must come with a few privileges.'

He had been brave to ask it, and she was not offended by what might have been seen as charity, if it hadn't been him offering. But she wouldn't make herself a burden, even with their long friendship.

'That's generous Mr Carson, but even if I wanted to, I wouldn't accept. The change would do Becky no good.'

'When was the last time you saw her.'

He noted the sadness which shadowed her face, something which caused him pain.

'It must be near to four years now. During the summer. I might ask her ladyship if she can spare me after Christmas. I don't think she'll object.

'Does her ladyship know?' Mr Carson could not hide his surprise.

'Aye she does. But it was only when she offered to look after me if I proved to be ill. I felt I owed it to her, and Becky, to be completely open.'

The spectre of that supposed illness hung between, memories swirling around their minds.

'I don't think I ever said how glad I was to find you weren't sick' he said, finding courage from deep within him to look over to her.

'Not in words' she replied. She hugged the secret of his singing close to her, although it would have been a perfect time to reveal her knowledge and, had she but been able to read his mind, might very well have brought certain later events forward by some weeks.

As it was, they lapsed into silence, and before long it was time to go about their duties once more. As Mr Carson moved steadily down the corridor he was struck by an image of a cottage built only for two, a woman reading by the fire and a man handing her a glass of wine. The domesticity caught in his throat and as he entered his pantry, he determined that it should come to pass, and soon.

He had a better understanding of the woman he was so tentatively courting – though she hardly knew it – and a plan began to form, which he hoped would soon lead to their shared happiness.

A/N: You know, it's hard to write these two when you can't allow physical contact. Captain Barbosa is in my mind, screaming 'JUST KISS', but that wouldn't be our Chelsie, would it. A note about Becky – fics normally have her in some sort of home, but I do think she'd be in a hospital facility of some kind. I don't know, I've not researched that sort of thing, but times were stark, and even the best care Mrs Hughes could provide wouldn't be up to much by our standards.

Reviews, as ever, light up my life.