A/N1: There was something odd going on on this website the day I posted my previous update, and I think many/all of you who are following this story did not receive a notification, and the story did not go to the top of the list right after the update. If you have not yet read the Robert vs. Mary confrontation, go back one chapter (title: Father and Daughter) and read it now before you read this chapter.
A/N2: Beginning with the next chapter I post, the rating for this story will be going up to M. If you'd like to keep reading but do not already follow this story I recommend that you either follow it now, or be sure that you allow stories of all ratings to show up when you filter (the default is just to show stories rated up through T). Otherwise you may not see updates when they are posted. I will give a little M warning at the beginning of any chapter with M-rated content, too, so if you'd like to continue reading this story but would rather skip over that content you can do so.
A/N3: Thank you so much for all of your support and feedback. They are very helpful!
Mrs. Hughes reached the breakfast table before Mr. Carson the next morning. While the others were gathering, she spread jam on his toast and fixed his tea. She knew the meal would be a little more rushed than usual for him. He would be answering the valet's bell for the foreseeable future, as well as seeing to his usual duties.
"Good morning," he said to the gathered staff when he arrived, before sitting down and starting to eat.
"I hope you don't mind, but I've put a bit of extra milk in your tea so you can drink it quickly without burning yourself," she said. "I know you've a busy morning ahead of you."
A series of thoughts went through Mr. Carson's mind as he looked at her. You're a darling. You take such wonderful care of me. I love you. You are beautiful. But of course he simply smiled and said, "thank you, Mrs. Hughes."
Sure enough, Lord Grantham's dressing room bell rang just as Mr. Carson finished his tea. Mrs. Hughes had a little more time to finish her own breakfast and think about what she might do now to lighten Mr. Carson's load. Now that he would have to dress Lord Grantham, at least there would be several extra stretches of time every day when she could go into his pantry and take care of anything else he needed. If he was to serve as valet for any length of time, there would be mending to do, and he would have no time for it, but she could easily share that work with Miss O'Brien and perhaps even Anna, when she was feeling a little better.
When she had finished eating, Mrs. Hughes excused herself and slipped into Mr. Carson's pantry, where she found a pile of clothing on his desk. She frowned, puzzled, and approached to examine it. Her brow cleared when she realized these must have been Lord Grantham's things from the night before when he had dispensed with the services of a valet. Mr. Carson must have fetched them from the dressing room earlier in the morning. She could do with a walk, so she headed to the laundry with the discarded clothing. In the corridor she stopped to speak to Miss O'Brien, whose arms were full of gowns and nightwear.
"Miss O'Brien, thank you for taking care of the girls this morning," Mrs. Hughes said. "Anna insists she'll be ready to work again soon, but I appreciate your filling in for her. It's a great help."
"You're welcome," the lady's maid answered distractedly. "I can't imagine what it must be like for her."
"I'm on my way to the laundry, if you'd like me to take those from you," Mrs. Hughes said, gesturing to the clothing Miss O'Brien carried.
"There's one for mending, but you can take the rest," she answered, giving up most of her burden to the housekeeper. "It's strange how we've had a secret wedding, a funeral, and an arrest here, all in a few days," Miss O'Brien mused.
The lady's maid was clearly preoccupied, speaking more to the air than to any person. "Well, I'll just be on my way," Mrs. Hughes said. She continued to the laundry, where the maids exclaimed over the fact that she had brought such a great pile of laundry herself, including items belonging to almost every member of the family. Once relieved of her burden, she decided to take a brief look around, to make sure everything in the laundry was as it should be. As she cast her eyes around the steamy room, she didn't immediately find anything amiss, but just before she turned to leave she noticed something out of place. She rushed across the room and, protecting her hand with a towel, seized a smoothing iron by its handle and brandished it over her head.
"Are you trying to burn down the building, girls?" she demanded. "You know better than to leave this where you did! I can see I'll have to inspect the laundry a bit more frequently from now on!" She held out the smoothing iron in front of her. "One of you take this from me," she commanded, and one of the girls hurriedly snatched it out of the housekeeper's hand. "Now set it down properly." The laundry maids looked at each other apprehensively. Mrs. Hughes was very angry, and they knew they were about to receive a mighty tongue-lashing. Her scoldings did not often last long, but they were highly effective. It was unlikely that any of them would again forget where and how to safely rest a smoothing iron when it was not in use.
#####
For no particular reason, they drank tea instead of wine that evening. Mr. Carson had pulled his chair up beside hers. He held a cup of tea in one hand, a chocolate biscuit in the other, and rested his knee against hers.
"Mrs. Patmore knows it's you that always steals from her personal biscuit hoard, Charles," Mrs. Hughes said.
"Of course she does," he answered unrepentantly. "Why else would she bake so many extra?"
She laughed. "They are delicious. I might pinch a few myself if you didn't already do it for me."
They were both startled by a knock at the door. "Carson? Mrs. Hughes?" a woman's voice called from the corridor. "Are you there?" They set aside their tea and biscuits and rose from their seats and Mr. Carson opened the door to Lady Mary.
"Oh dear, I see I've interrupted your tea," she said. "I'm so sorry."
"What can we do for you, milady?" Mr. Carson asked.
"His lordship has sent me to bring you both up to the library," she answered.
Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes exchanged a glance. "Of course," Mr. Carson answered. "Right away, milady." Together they followed her from the pantry and through the dimly lit corridor to the stairs. "May we know why we are summoned?"
Lady Mary swallowed hard. "I wish I knew, Carson," she said nervously. "His lordship didn't tell me. He asked me to fetch you and has told me I'm to stay once I've brought you."
When they reached the library and Mr. Carson opened the door so the two women could precede him into the room. Lord Grantham rose from his seat on one of the sofas as they entered. He gestured for Lady Mary to stand beside him and she obeyed. Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes stood side-by-side facing them, ready to hear whatever the earl had to say. Lady Mary had obviously spoken to her father on their behalf sooner than either of them had expected, and now they were to hear his verdict. However, it seemed he had not yet imparted his decision to his daughter. She looked as uneasy as the butler and housekeeper both felt.
"Carson, Mrs. Hughes," he began, nodding at each in their turn. "Perhaps it seems strange that I've summoned you here so late, but I preferred to have this meeting when everyone else had gone to sleep. The rest of the staff are in bed, I presume?"
"Yes, milord," Mr. Carson answered.
"Her ladyship wanted to join me here tonight, but she is still very tired, so I have asked Lady Mary to stand in her place. She has told me of your understanding," Lord Grantham said. "Is it true?"
"Yes, milord," Mrs. Hughes said. "Mr. Carson has asked me to marry him and I've accepted his proposal."
"Carson, I believe we've had words on this subject before," the earl said.
Mr. Carson nodded, not relaxing his rigid, formal posture. "Yes, milord," he answered gravely. "I am aware that you would find it unacceptable for your butler to be married. Mrs. Hughes and I will not marry until we leave Downton. I hope to find a situation for us both, soon, however, as we wish to be married as soon as possible."
"Well, I congratulate you both."
"Thank you, milord. I hope that you will allow us to stay on until we have found a new place," Mr. Carson said.
Lord Grantham sighed, glancing at his daughter and shaking his head ruefully before turning back to speak to the butler. "Carson, please do stop talking such nonsense about leaving Downton," he said. "And taking Mrs. Hughes with you? Out of the question." At last the earl smiled, as did his daughter.
Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes glanced, wide-eyed, at one another and then turned back to Lord Grantham.
"Stay at Downton Abbey and be married?" Mrs. Hughes asked, not quite ready to believe her ears. "We'll be able to keep our positions?"
The earl nodded. "Yes, and her ladyship asked me to wish you joy on her behalf, although I expect she will do so in person very soon."
Lady Mary spoke up here. "Yes, she is very happy for you both," she said, sending a sly glance in her father's direction before continuing. "She also wanted you to have a little time off right after your wedding. Isn't that right, Papa?"
"What?" Lord Grantham said.
"Yes, she said you must take some time together, away from Downton," Lady Mary continued with authority.
Her father cleared his throat. "Yes. Yes, of course she did," he confirmed, though looking a little peeved at her fabrication.
"Three days, at the very least, her ladyship said." Lady Mary was enjoying herself now.
This interplay between father and daughter was lost, however, on Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes, who had turned to face each other. There was no joyous embrace, or even clasping of hands. They both simply smiled. Lady Mary was the first to notice that the couple was paying them no mind and she turned toward the fire to give them a little privacy; Lord Grantham followed suit. He thought he could see now what his daughter had meant when she talked of love that was real and true and pure. He never would have expected it of his starched and stiff butler, but it was clear how they both felt, though they did not even touch.
"Thank you, Papa," she whispered. "You've done the right thing."
He glanced once more over his shoulder at the butler and housekeeper. "I think you're right, Mary," he answered thoughtfully. "I think you're right."
To be continued...
Please review if you have a few moments.