A/N Thank you so much for your continued encouragement!

This chapter is both the continuation of libbybell's birthday story and my offering for Week 1 of the unofficial Downton Abbey Season 8. (If you don't know about it and you'd like more information, please see my tumblr page or send me a message.)

Autumn, 1924, Yorkshire, Downton Abbey

Mrs. Hughes had called Mrs. Patmore into the housekeeper's sitting room one evening after dinner, and the two sat talking at the small table.

"He's done what?!" cried Mrs. Patmore, who hovered somewhere between disbelief and incomprehension.

"Mrs. Patmore, there's no need to shout," Mrs. Hughes scolded gently. "You'll frighten half the county! If you've not heard me, then ask me – at a normal speaking volume – to repeat myself."

"Oh, I've heard you, all right. Only I don't understand … or … quite believe it, really. You say that Mr. Carson has asked you to buy a house with him?"

"That's right," the housekeeper confirmed.

"And … ?" prompted Mrs. Patmore.

"And … what?"

"For what purpose? Do you intend to live in it? Together?"

"Heavens, no!" Mrs. Hughes exclaimed. "It's meant to be an investment property. A business venture. Like your house. We intend to fix it up and rent out the rooms."

"Oh, I see," said the cook, a little deflated. "So you and Mr. Carson are to be business partners, then?"

"Yes, that's the idea," insisted Mrs. Hughes.

Mrs. Patmore thought for a moment. That the housekeeper and butler would someday own a house together was, of course, precisely what Mrs. Patmore had hoped all along. She'd invited them both to accompany her when she was looking at potential properties for herself, and she'd hoped that the trio's little expedition would get her friends thinking along those lines for their own purposes. However, she'd imagined their future house to be a home: a cottage for just the two of them, where they lived together, happily married – not a place to be rented out to others!

Mrs. Hughes's voice pulled the cook from her musings. "And so we've a favor to ask you, Mrs. Patmore. Mr. Carson and I would like to go and look at some properties together, and we think the best time might be after Lady Rose's wedding, while the family are away at Brancaster Castle. Do you think you might be able to manage things here without the two of us for a few hours one afternoon? I hate to impose, but with the family gone and many of the staff along with them, everything should be pretty calm and quiet here at the house."

"Think nothing of it, Mrs. Hughes. It's no trouble at all," Mrs. Patmore assured her friend.

"Thank you, Mrs. Patmore. It would be a great help to us."

The cook smiled, nodded, excused herself, and returned to the kitchen. The news she had just received was an interesting development. It was not as much progress as she'd wished, but it was advancement, and she was sure she could somehow manipulate the situation to nudge her friends closer.

Three weeks later, the scheduled day arrived, and the cook sent the housekeeper and the butler off on their mission with her sincere good wishes and a hamper of food. They were gone for most of the day, and they returned looking tired and happy.

"How did it go, then?" Mrs. Patmore asked when her friends appeared in the kitchen to return the hamper and the few items remaining inside it. "Any luck?"

"Oh, we've found several viable possibilities. We'll need to obtain some more information, and I'll need to do the sums and compare, but I'd wager that one of the properties we saw today is the right one for us," Mr. Carson declared confidently.

"Oh, I am glad to hear it!" The cook offered them a sincere smile.

"I'm going to wash up and change my clothes. I'll be back down shortly," Mrs. Hughes informed the others as she set the hamper down on the table, and she went on her way.

"I'm going to do the same … only … I'd like to speak to you first, Mrs. Patmore, if you can spare a moment or two," said Mr. Carson.

"Certainly, Mr. Carson. What can I do for you?" asked the cook.

"I'm afraid you've already done it!" he told her.

"What?! I don't understand," said Mrs. Patmore. Thinking this might be a conversation that warranted some privacy, she turned to her assistants and thought of an errand to assign them. "Daisy, go and fetch me some potatoes from the root cellar. A dozen or so. And Ivy, you go, too. I'll need about a dozen carrots, too, and half a dozen onions."

Ivy made a face, but Daisy simply said, "Yes, Mrs. Patmore," and pulled Ivy out of the kitchen.

"Now, what's this all about?" the cook asked the butler once they were alone.

"It's about the hamper you packed for us," Mr. Carson began. "It was very kind of you, and I hope I don't sound unappreciative, but … Strawberries and chocolate? Whipped cream? And how did you procure a bottle of champagne? It was all delicious, of course, but, well … Don't you think that those things are better suited to a younger couple? A courting couple, perhaps?"

"Are they, Mr. Carson?" Mrs. Patmore asked innocently. "Only I wouldn't know. You see, I have so little experience with such things. But I'm glad to know that you're so well-versed in matters of … romance."

"Well, I do like to keep my eyes and ears open. I get about, Mrs. Patmore. I get about," he told her, looking pleased with himself.

"Oh, indeed. You're a real man of the world, you are."

He frowned at her. "Mrs. Patmore, are you mocking me?"

"Certainly not, Mr. Carson! I would never!" she assured him.

He didn't appear completely convinced, but he protested no further. "Yes. Well. It was all rather awkward, you see."

"Oh? In what way?" the cook wanted to know.

"Well, as I say, those items have a decidedly … romantic … connotation. They would be more appropriate for a younger couple who are courting."

"Oh, I see. And you and Mrs. Hughes are neither young … nor a courting couple?" she challenged, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes! No! Well … we're not old!"

"Of course not!"

"And we're not … We're … " he foundered. "Oh, never mind. But you failed to include any champagne flutes in the hamper. We were forced to drink from the bottle!"

"Oh, I do apologize. I'm sorry you had to stoop to such uncouth behavior," she said, not even trying to mask her sarcasm.

"But – the same bottle! Both of us!"

"Oh, come now, Mr. Carson! You and Mrs. Hughes are buying a house together. I daresay you'll be sharing more than a bottle of champagne!"

Mr. Carson looked positively scandalized. He coughed and recovered himself enough to continue complaining. "And perhaps the next time, you might pack us some napkins. The whole affair was rather messy."

"Did I forget the napkins, too? Where is my head? But surely you could have used your handkerchief."

"And we did! Only … would you like to explain to the laundry maids why my handkerchief has got Mrs. Hughes's lip color on it?"

"I'm more interested in why your cheek has got Mrs. Hughes's lip color on it!"

The poor man was mortified; he raised his hand to his cheek and tried feverishly to wipe away the incriminating mark, the location of which he seemed to guess precisely. Mrs. Patmore took pity on him. "Oh, come here," she said. "And give me that handkerchief, since it's already stained."

He took his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, and she wiped the color from his cheek.

"Now. Let me wash this out for you," she offered, keeping the pink-stained white cotton square. "No one will know. You'd best get yourself upstairs to clean up and change. Go on!"

"Right. Er … Thank you, Mrs. Patmore." And he hurried off, fleeing from further embarrassment.

Mrs. Patmore grinned madly. She truly didn't suspect that there was anything more to the story than the obvious kiss on the cheek. However, if Mrs. Hughes had kissed Mr. Carson's cheek (and perhaps he had kissed hers), then it was reasonable to believe that more kisses would follow, and declarations and a marriage proposal and acceptance wouldn't be far behind.

A/N Thank you so much for sticking with me. You reviews are wonderful, and they keep me writing.