A/N Thank you ever so much for all the kind reviews for the first chapter! Your encouragement and support keep me writing. Please believe me when I tell you how important your feedback is. Special shout-out to the guest reviewers to whom I wasn't able to send a personal thank you.

This is the second installment of libbybell's birthday gift. I hope she likes it, and I hope the rest of you like it, too.

Winter, early 1924, Yorkshire, Downton Village, St. Michael and All Angels Parish Church

Mrs. Patmore pulled on her gloves and arranged her coat and scarf tightly around her neck as she walked out of the church with Daisy and Mr. Mason after the morning's services. She noticed Mrs. Hughes speaking with some men and women from the village. Some distance away, Mr. Carson stood talking with Mr. Travis. When some other parishioners approached the good vicar to speak with him, Mr. Carson was left standing alone.

"Excuse me, please," said Mrs. Patmore to her companions. "I just need to speak with Mr. Carson. I'll be back in a moment."

"Certainly," said Mr. Mason, and Daisy nodded politely.

The cook took her leave and advanced on Mr. Carson. The previous summer, she had watched the butler and housekeeper holding hands and wading in the sea together, and Mrs. Patmore had had high hopes that the two heads of staff might see fit to advance their friendship into a relationship of a more romantic nature. However, in the months that followed, her friends seemed to make no progress towards that end, even after she'd dropped some heavy hints to Mrs. Hughes. She wondered whether she might have better luck with Mr. Carson and decided that she had nothing to lose by trying to speak with him. So focused was he on gazing at Mrs. Hughes that he didn't even notice Mrs. Patmore's arrival.

"Lovely sermon this morning, wasn't it?" she asked loudly to get his attention.

Mr. Carson reluctantly turned his eyes away from the object of his interest. "Hmm? Oh, yes. Very inspirational."

"Looks like Mrs. Hughes is quite popular today," remarked Mrs. Patmore, casting her eyes and inclining her head towards the housekeeper amidst the group of villagers.

"She's got many friends in the village, it seems," agreed Mr. Carson.

"Mr. Carson, I've been wanting to ask you something…" began Mrs. Patmore, "…and I hope it's not too forward, you see. Only I wonder about you and Mrs. Hughes."

"Yes? What about us?"

"Well, you're very friendly, the two of you."

"Yes, I would say we're good friends."

"You're fond of each other, even, I would say. You care for each other."

"Yes, I suppose one might say that," allowed Mr. Carson, speaking slowly and warily, as if he both suspected and feared where the conversation might lead.

Mrs. Patmore pressed on boldly. "Well, I wonder whether you might have an arrangement, an understanding."

"What?!" cried Mr. Carson. "What do you mean?"

"Only I saw you holding her hand that day at the seaside last summer, and I thought that maybe the two of you had come to some agreement."

Mr. Carson's face had turned red, and he looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Oh, I see. It wasn't … quite like that. I was concerned that I might … stumble … or … get my clothing wet. Mrs. Hughes kindly offered to steady me."

"You thought you might stumble?! And she offered to steady you?! In six inches of water? With tiny waves at your ankles and smooth sand underfoot? Mr. Carson, you're the most sure-footed man I know. And if you had lost your footing, I doubt Mrs. Hughes would have been much help! Have you noticed how much smaller than you she is?"

He cleared his throat nervously. "Yes, well. Nevertheless, it's always prudent to have some … support … when … traversing unknown ground or … navigating unfamiliar waters."

"Oh, I couldn't agree more. It's always nice to have someone you can rely on when you're charting a new course." She eyed him knowingly, meaningfully, but he returned her look with a skeptical expression. Charging forward before he could respond, she continued. "Speaking of charting a new course, Mr. Carson ... have you ever thought about your life in retirement?"

Mr. Carson appeared to be struggling to keep up with the conversation. He shook his head and blinked his eyes. "What? When were we speaking of retirement?"

"Just now. I asked if you've considered it."

"Well, I don't know. Not really. Why would I want to retire?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Well, I would. Not right now, mind. I'm still in good health, and I've a few good years of work left in me. But maybe before too long. I'll have a small pension from the estate, and I've a little saved up. It might be nice to sit back and put my feet up – enjoy life a little, you know. ' Course, it would be nice to have some company, someone to share my later years, you see – so that I wouldn't be lonely. If I found the right man, that is."

Mr. Carson only replied, "That's … very nice, Mrs. Patmore."

Luck was in favor of Mrs. Patmore's plan that day, for at that moment, the women with whom Mrs. Hughes had been speaking departed, and the housekeeper was left conversing with three men. The butler noticed immediately, and his attention was drawn to the little group.

Mrs. Patmore saw her opportunity and used it to her advantage. "Do you ever wonder if Mrs. Hughes would like to retire someday? From the look of things, she could have her pick of any man in the village … if she had a mind to marry. And why shouldn't she? There are plenty of nice, eligible men in the village and on the estate – widowers and bachelors who might like to find themselves wives. And Mrs. Hughes is a fine woman. Nice-looking, too. Any man would be lucky to call her his own."

Mr. Carson now appeared quite concerned, and he asked, "Do you suppose one of them has designs on her?"

"Well, I wouldn't know, now, would I, Mr. Carson?"

"But do you really think Mrs. Hughes might be considering retirement and … " – and here Mr. Carson cleared his throat – " … marriage?"

"You're asking me? I'm sure I don't know. If you want to know her thoughts on the subject, then why don't you ask Mrs. Hughes?" And Mrs. Patmore now looked at Mr. Carson pointedly.

Mr. Carson spluttered and coughed at Mrs. Patmore's forthright suggestion, but he was spared further discomfort when Daisy and Mr. Mason joined the two of them.

"Are you ready to leave, Mrs. Patmore?" Mr. Mason asked. "I told Daisy I'd see you both safely back to the big house. It's muddy and sloppy today, and there are puddles in the lane. We can't have either of you falling in a rut or some such. I've got two good arms, one for each of you." The kind farmer smiled at the cook, holding out the arm that was not occupied by his daughter-in-law.

"Oh! Why, thank you, Mr. Mason! That's very kind, indeed!" agreed Mrs. Patmore with a pleasant grin, and she took Mr. Mason's arm. Then she turned to Mr. Carson and suggested, "Mr. Carson, perhaps you should go and collect Mrs. Hughes now. You might even offer her your arm to walk back – or at least hold her hand. You heard Mr. Mason: the ground is treacherous today. You wouldn't want her to … stumble … or to … get her clothing wet."

Mr. Carson didn't reply, but as the threesome made their way into the lane, Mrs. Patmore was pleased to notice that he puffed out his chest and strode proudly over to Mrs. Hughes and her companions. Obviously, the cook couldn't hear what was said, but in very short order, the housekeeper had said her goodbyes to the group and was walking away on the arm of the butler. Both wore delighted smiles.

Mr. Mason, noting where Mrs. Patmore's attention was directed, leaned towards her and asked, "Mrs. Patmore … is there … something between those two?"

Mrs. Patmore sighed and replied, "I certainly hope so, Mr. Mason. I certainly hope so."

A/N Thank you for reading. More to come as soon as reasonably possible. Please review if you you're able. I'd be much obliged.

Also, many thanks to my proofreader – chelsie fan jr., jr., jr.? chelsie fan IV? – my youngest daughter, that is. She proofread this for me, caught a few typos, and made a couple of valid points and useful suggestions.