There was a slight chill in the air on the road to the village the next day. The clouds above the trees were blurred between shades of white and dark grey, threatening rain. The wind had picked up a little in comparison to the day before, although the branches still covered in summer green leaves only swayed slightly above Chris as he walked to the shop early in the morning. September had not left them yet, but in comparison to the blue sky he was gazing up into yesterday whilst David lay next to him, it felt like it had. Everything had settled into a happy and comfortable routine now. Richard and Thomas had returned to only having eyes for each other, Chris had felt a bit guilty about all the trouble he and David had made as it had caused Thomas and Richard to be preoccupied with them instead of each other more, or at least that's what he thought. But just how Thomas and Richard had got back into the swing of things, he and David had begun to find their own routine. Chris still didn't want to bother David too much during the day, as he knows that he is busy working and also he has to be careful with how many times he shows up at the farm. There is always someone else around, sometimes Mr Tomlinson, who David and himself can work with, but sometimes others who he doesn't know so well and hence has to be cautious about. Likewise, David has limited his presence in Richard's shop during opening hours to the more quieter times of the day. However, with Thomas, Richard and Mr Tomlinson's friendship, as well as the many acres of open farmland and Downton grounds, they haven't found it hard to get away from prying eyes.

Today, Chris would probably not see David until the evening. They are going to the pub later, like they did when they first got to know each other, and then after that? We will have to see. It's nice not making any plans. Chris grinned to himself about the possibilities of what they could do with the remainder of their day, when he noticed a figure at the far end of the straight road. At first he was so far in the distance that Chris couldn't tell whether the person was coming towards him or walking away. As Chris drew closer, it became clear that the man was walking towards him, not that there was anything unusual about that. It may be quiet, but there are plenty of people going about their day. Chris didn't recognise the man, the stranger. Most people he encountered he either knew by name or at the very least recognised from either Downton Abbey or the village. Perhaps he's on holiday, or visiting the Abbey? "Good morning," Chris greeted as the man walked towards him. Chris could see him more clearly now. He was rough in appearance, a tough face and broadly built with a grim determined look on him. Chris took back his thought that he was visiting Downton Abbey as the man, whilst not dressed in an untidy fashion, was not the sort of person who would be admitted through the front door. Unless he has business downstairs? Chris's thoughts immediately were crossed with Thomas, before he dismissed them. Maybe he is a tradesman?

The stranger nodded and returned the greeting of "Morning," rather reluctantly, as though he didn't have the time or couldn't be bothered with plesentaries. Chris, understandably assuming that was as far as any exchange between them both would go, carried on his way. "Downton Abbey," the stranger spoke. Chris turned around. "Am I heading in the right direction? I was told I can't miss it."

Chris chuckled. Yeah extremely large country house in the middle of huge grounds and an impressive driveway, no you can't miss it. The stranger however, did not share Chris's humour and kept his face expressionless waiting for him to answer. "Carry on down the road, turn right and then as you say, you can't miss it. If you're looking for work though, I wouldn't get your hopes up. I know the butler there and they aren't hiring anyone presently."

The man huffed, "Nah I'm not. Wouldn't bother anyway, them lot in their big houses are a dying breed. Have they hired anyone recently, say in the past couple of months?"

Chris's first thought was that this was a strange question. Why such a specific timeframe? But thinking nothing of it, he answered the man's question. "Not that I know of. The last was a young lad who was hired by the head gardener and that was back in the spring I believe."

"Okay." The man paused as he looked back down the road and then up in the other direction, as though he was trying to decide his next move. "Well thank you. I reckon you have saved me from a wasted journey. I am looking for an old acquaintance of mine. We parted ways a few months back rather suddenly and I was told he came here. No matter, I have the time to find him."

"Right well I hope you find who you're looking for," Chris said, before they both continued in opposite directions. He couldn't help but be curious though as there was something about the man that Chris felt uneasy about. Something wrong. Dangerous maybe? Chris shook his head as he muttered "Don't be silly" under his breath.

Out of earshot from Chris, the stranger sneered, "I hope I do, but he better hope that I don't.

...

Stephen carefully rubbed a polishing cloth around the glass lamp shade that he held in his hand whilst standing on top of a wooden kick stool. He and Mr Barrow were busy making the dining room ready for this evening's meal upstairs. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mr Barrow up the other end of the dining room table carefully measuring out the gap between the back of each chair and the edge of the table. Stephen though was trying not to look elsewhere other than at the delicate glass object he was holding in white gloved hands. Every time he cleaned these he got a little nervous as the first time he had cleaned them, it had slipped out of his hands and had smashed on the floor. He was still very new to Downton Abbey at the time and he remembered being mortified at his mistake and scared that he had messed up so bad he would be thrown out without a reference. Thinking back now, perhaps he was being a bit over dramatic at the time, but he was keen to impress and not make mistakes. Mr Barrow though had not been angry. He had told him to clear it up and that they could take a similar lamp shade from another room that wasn't used as much so wouldn't be noticed. A few days later a replacement was bought and no one upstairs was any the wiser.

"You can finish with those now Stephen and help me with the rest of the table," Mr Barrow called to him from the other end of the room, snapping Stephen out of his memories.

"Yes Mr Barrow," he answered as he screwed the lamp shade carefully back onto the light, double checking it was fixed back on correctly before stepping down off the stool. He joined Mr Barrow at the table, on the opposite side, just as he held the wooden ruler underneath his armpit so that his hand was free to hold a glass up to the light and rub off a most likely almost invisible smudge with a cloth. Stephen set to work laying out the many pieces of silverware needed for dinner. Multiple options of knives and forks, different sizes and shapes of spoons all with their individual purpose. Each one of them had to be arranged in the correct order and in the correct place so that each person's place was identical to the next. It was a form of art in a way, and one that had taken Stephen a bit of time to master. He moved a glass into its correct position before glancing up to see Mr Barrow flexing his hand and rubbing the top of it. It was the hand that usually was covered with its own glove, although at the moment Mr Barrow was wearing a pair of white gloves to reduce the chances of fingerprints on the glasses. "Everything okay Mr Barrow?" he asked with concern.

"Yes, nothing I haven't had before. It's fine thank you Stephen," Mr Barrow answered before moving to his left to set another place at the table. Stephen didn't push him anymore. His reply was the kind that Stephen had expected. He didn't expect Mr Barrow to say much more on the subject of his injured hand. In his earlier days at Downton, he had noticed a similar thing once and had asked him what happened to his hand. Mr Barrow had simply said it was a war injury and nothing to make a fuss about. He had avoided eye contact when answering his question and Stephen thought that he looked ashamed of it. He later learned not to ask about it anymore, as he noticed no one else did. If there was more to it, then there would be one person who would know the full story: Richard Ellis. That thought reminded him of the envelope he had hidden in his livery pocket. "Stephen, not that one," Mr Barrow said suddenly pointing to the dessert fork Stephen was about to place on the table in line with the others.

"Isn't this the correct one Mr Barrow?"

"It is but not that one in particular." Mr Barrow leaned over the table gesturing for him to hand the fork over. "Slight dent in the handle Stephen. Use a spare one and take this one downstairs when we're done."

"Of course," Stephen paused before smiling. "How did you notice that from over there when I didn't see it right in front of me?"

"A keen eye Stephen," Mr Barrow said with a smirk. "That and the fact that I've been doing this for a while."

"Your's and Mr Ellis's kitchen table must be meticulous Mr Barrow," Stephen joked before realising what he said. He was immediately concerned he had overstepped the mark, but Mr Barrow just smiled fondly, in the way he often does when someone mentions Mr Ellis.

"You would think so, but we have a cat who likes nothing more than sleeping right on top of it, so I can guarantee you it is not." Mr Barrow had a sparkle in his eye as he spoke. He was in a good mood it seemed.

"Mr Barrow, I have something to pass onto you actually." Stephen pulled a small blank envelope out of his pocket. "I was asked to give this to you."

Mr Barrow looked at the envelope curiously. "Bit late for the post, that came this morning as usual. When did this arrive?"

"Um, earlier this afternoon."

"And you haven't passed it onto me before because?"

Stephen hoped Mr Barrow would understand when he had the chance to explain. He knew that he didn't like to be kept in the dark about things. "I was told not to give it to you until much closer to the evening. He made me promise, sorry."

"Who did?" Mr Barrow took the envelope and frowned. "Bit unusual. No address or name. Who delivered this? Someone we know?"

Stephen had picked up many things whilst being at Downton Abbey. Lying with skill was not one of them. "Um, yes. Maybe you should open it? I think you will know then. I'll take the fork downstairs." He could have taken it down later and saved himself the trip but he wanted to grant Mr Barrow the privacy of reading his note alone. Stephen picked up the fork whilst Mr Barrow nodded in response as he unsealed the envelope carefully.

Before he reached the door at the far end of the long room though, Mr Barrow spoke. "Thank you Stephen, for your discretion. I didn't mean to speak harshly."

"It's no problem Mr Barrow," he said, seeing Mr Barrow smile before leaving the room.

...

Thomas held the note in his hand. He felt bad that he had sounded a bit angry or irritated when Stephen had been vague about the note. Unaddressed mysterious envelopes was something he was still getting used to. He wasn't too fond of mystery when it concerned his personal life, but Richard liked to send him little notes and messages in this way and Thomas always loved to receive them and read them over and over again, even if his first reaction was not so enjoyable. This note was an invitation. It was Richard making good on his promise to pay him back, despite the fact that Thomas needed no repayment, as anything he gave Richard, he gave with love.

Meet me later?

Don't come home. Find me.

I'll be by the lake, which you always insist is nothing more than a large pond, after sunset.

You don't need to bring anything. I have it all arranged. Just bring your handsome self okay?

Meet me at the willow tree, where I'll be waiting.

R

...

Thomas pushed past some branches that were criss-crossing the narrow gravel footpath that would take him to the side of the lake Richard had described. This path was the shortest route from the house. There were others that were more maintained but since dinner had gone on late, he had not been able to get away very quickly, not until the light was fading fast. The grey clouds that had been threatening rain all day, but had so far not delivered on their promise, weren't helping and Thomas was glad that he had taken a torch from Downton. There were many places they could get away and spend time together alone. Over the years they had discovered and used many, as their conversation underneath the oak tree yesterday had reminded him. Flashbacks to many of those times filled his mind at that moment. The greenhouse, the fields, many different fields, trees in the rain, barns. Thomas giggled to himself. A wide variety so why not meet by the lake? Maybe it was not as secluded as other places, but approaching it from the overgrown direction was wise. Also the lake was mostly used by the family on fine summer's days, not the dim evenings with an overcast sky. The lake was a part of the estate that he rarely had reason to go to. He recalled that he had been down there with George, Sybbie and their nanny not long after he had finished his period of bed rest following his attempt at taking his own life. George had come to him one day very insistent on taking him to the lake so he could watch him and Sybbie sail the little boats they had made. Lady Mary had apologised to him and had told the children to let him rest, but in the end he had gone with the children because Mrs Hughes had said that it would do him good to get outside as it might help him clear his mind as she put it. He wasn't sure if sitting by the lake was enough to do that, but he had enjoyed himself.

He pushed past a final prickly bramble that he moved with caution to one side so that it didn't snag on his uniform. Since Richard had told him not to go home, he didn't have time to change. He reckoned Richard, despite his perfect organisation skills, had not considered that. It didn't matter, he would be careful. The path after that widened again as it joined another and soon he heard the crunch of the gravel shore beneath his feet as he heard the gentle lapping of the waves at the edge of the lake. The wind was stronger than it was earlier in the day, but still not enough to be a problem. However Thomas reckoned, as he walked carefully along the shore as he didn't want too many little stones in his shoes, that there may be a storm coming their way in a day or two.

Thomas was so busy looking out over the lake and the little waves forming and breaking in front of him that he didn't see him at first. "Turn around," Richard's voice said. Above the shoreline and the little beach, beyond a fallen tree branch that looked as though it had been there for ages, was Richard. He was lying on a bed of blankets amongst the tufts of wild unmanaged grass, below a weeping willow tree that cast a curtain around him and the blankets on the ground.

"Don't you know how to pick a spot that makes you look good," Thomas said as he walked over, flopping down on the blanket next to Richard before kissing him deeply, not hesitating in the slightest, as the wind that had travelled across the lake brushed through his hair. The coolness of the breeze was contrasted by the warmth from Richard's kiss and his breath as they lay up close. "Sorry I'm late, dinner took forever."

"You should have told them that you had to let them serve themselves as you had a date," Richard teased as he kissed him again.

"Ha, if only!" Thomas pulled back but held Richard close still.

"Stephen got you the note then?"

"No, I just read your mind and followed that here," Thomas joked sarcastically. "Of course he did. He held onto it as well, like you asked him too. I may have been a bit harsh with him when he said he had the note all afternoon, before I realised why. Why did you not want me to have it straight away?"

Richard shifted so he was lying on his side. "Well I was only able to get away from the shop in the afternoon so I couldn't give it to you in the evening. We had a delivery coming in the late afternoon you see. And also I had to allow myself time to get things organised. I couldn't have you becoming too curious and coming along this way before I had everything sorted."

Thomas hadn't had a chance to look around properly yet but now his eyes were becoming adjusted to the waning light he could see this was far more than just a few blankets. Richard had brought refreshment it seemed as well as plates and some little silver glasses that Thomas recognised from a picnic set that Richard's mother had given them. It was all self contained in a wicker box with sections for holding plates, cutlery and glasses. She had told them it was passed down to her from her parents and she wanted them to have it now. It was something they agreed to only use on special occasions due to some of the pieces being rather delicate and old now. Thomas also saw some unlit candles dug into the ground behind them. "Candles?"

"Yeah that would have worked but the wind kept blowing them out. Candlelit dinner, I was trying to be romantic."

Thomas chuckled into Richard's kiss. "You manage that well enough on your own. But you really don't need to do all this for me. You never owe me anything Richard," he said tenderly.

"Maybe, but I wanted to. It would have been better in the daylight but...well you know."

"Yeah. But this is nice. I haven't been here for a while. The giant pond doesn't get enough use I don't think."

Richard laughed. "Lake Mr Barrow, it's a lake."

"No, lakes are bigger."

"But you can't sail a boat on a pond. On a lake you can and there is a boat house over at the other end."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. It's a lake you win. So what food have you got?"

"That is what you are thinking about right now?" Richard teased.

"Well I might be thinking about many different things right now, but I am hungry. I missed dinner at Downton to get here sooner hoping that your surprise involved food."

"Well, we have sausage rolls and pork pies. Chris got them for me. I thought ice cream would be nice but I didn't know how long you would be so I left that at home and thought we could have dessert later. Salad, tomatoes mainly since we have them in the garden and they needed eating. I could feed you a few strawberries also if you fancy?"

"And what sort of fantasies have you got in your mind Richard Ellis?" Thomas asked pushing Richard back so he was lying flat on his back.

"None, nothing whatsoever Mr Barrow," Richard smiled, feigning innocence.

"You are a terrible liar." Thomas laughed as he leant over Richard and kissed him again.

...

It was dark and Thomas shivered. This was not midsummer when the nights were as warm as the days and he had now lost his jacket and his shirt was undone. If any of the family decided on a midnight walk by the lake they would be in for a shock.

"Cold?" Richard asked.

"Bit of both. You are warm but everything else isn't," Thomas whispered. Talking normally whilst it was dark just seemed wrong.

Richard pulled a blanket over them both. "Better?"

"Mmm."

"Couldn't have left this much later in the year could we?"

"No, the weather has changed. But it's perfect Richard, all of this. You. I wouldn't have it change at all," Thomas breathed. "I love you."

"I will love you always." Richard spoke into Thomas's lips as they cuddled close again.

...

Out over the lake and beyond, a storm was about to unfold...