I wasn't going to write a scene around The Kiss from the trailer, but I couldn't help myself. It just spilled out.

Mrs. Hughes looked at Mr. Carson as he stood in her doorway one night. Sherry, he'd said, but he wanted her to come to his pantry instead of serving it to her in her sitting room. She stayed seated for a little while, watching him flex his left hand nervously. Something was wrong. She had to find out what it was.

"Of course I'll drink sherry with you," Mrs. Hughes replied, getting up from her chair. Mr. Carson indicated that she should precede him and she brushed past him on her way to his pantry. He had already followed her in and closed the door when she noticed that there was no sherry in sight. She looked at him questioningly. They faced one another in silence, his hand now tugging at his waistcoat and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"Mrs. Hughes," Mr. Carson began. "I need to... I want to... There is something..." He floundered, not knowing quite what to say or even exactly what he meant to accomplish by it.

"Mrs. Patmore accosted you, didn't she?" Mrs. Hughes asked. She didn't know if she was right, but she was suspicious of her friend.

Mr. Carson responded verbally and with a fiery blush. "She did," he murmured.

Mrs. Hughes spoke quietly. "I don't think I want to know what she said to you."

"I didn't want to hear what she said to me," he admitted. "But later I could see her point."

She had only a vague idea of what Mrs. Patmore might have said and Mr. Carson's present behavior was mystifying, so Mrs. Hughes remained silent.

"I'm afraid I have caused you pain, something I never wish to do."

"Caused me pain?" Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"If not pain, then worry or confusion," he clarified. "You are unsure of me."

She gave him a tiny smile. "I don't know anyone more reliable than you, Mr. Carson."

He shook his head. He was getting nowhere with his attempt at explanation. "On Christmas Eve, you smiled. You looked… very happy."

"I was happy. You had just promised to marry me - me or no one. I don't know if any woman could receive such a profession and not be happy."

"She might, if the man speaking was not the man of her choice."

Mrs. Hughes looked directly at Mr. Carson, her eyes misty with tears, but she refused to speak. He was trying to draw her out, while saying nothing of his own feelings. Though her face and her eyes might give her away, she would not verbalize her feelings.

"You don't want to say it," Mr. Carson conjectured.

"What is it you want from me, Mr. Carson?" she replied in an anguished tone.

Here was the opening he needed. "Everything."

"Everything?" Mrs. Hughes wasn't sure what to make of this.

"I don't want you to clean our house and wash my clothes and be my friend." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I want you to love me."

She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat.

He continued, stepping closer to her. "I wish for an equal marriage, so it seems only fair that I ask for your love."

Her joy and her tears spilled over and she almost laughed.

"Did you not know? Did I not make myself clear on Christmas Eve?" he asked in some wonder.

"You did, but then later I thought I had imagined it. You wouldn't even call me by my Christian name," Mrs. Hughes explained. "That's when I realized how different our expectations must be."

"Oh, my dear," he murmured softly, raising his large hands to her face and wiping her tears away with his thumbs. Mr. Carson took another step toward Mrs. Hughes, her head still cradled in his hands. Her tears had abated and she looked into his face. It was love she saw in his eyes, and a sweet little smile on his lips. When his eyes closed, so did hers, and she wore a smile that matched his. His hands moved her face gently in his direction and she could feel his breath on her skin as he leaned toward her.

When his lips touched her forehead, warmth washed over her and all of the tension in her body melted away in a moment. Mrs. Hughes was sure now. They belonged to each other, tonight and forever.

The end.

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