In Response to Guest Reviewers: To the guest who thought the last chapter lovely, I'm so delighted to hear that! I hope you enjoy today's update just as much!

To dsky, :D :) I'm so touched you're finding this to be delightful! I know it's been a decent bit of time in between updates, but I hope you find today's conclusion to be equally delightful!

Author's Note: It's not as soon as I would have liked it, but I'm thrilled to say that this is the conclusion piece for this little story.

Also, think of this update as a fluffy epilogue more so than a "proper chapter". A sweet little conclusion with bits of cheek strewn across the sentences. Oh, and, to any Robert fans: please note that as much as I appreciate him, he's going to be a bit... frustrating in this one. I promise to redeem him the next chance I get.

Warning: We're in Series 1 land!

Enjoy!


It turns out, revealing their little secret was a lot less complicated than Charles thought.

Or, at least, it wasn't as complicated as he anticipated.

But was it uncomplicated?

Not quite...


Lord and Lady Grantham


To say that Lord Grantham had taken the news well was, well, not entirely honest. That wasn't to say that he took it rather poorly –– only to say that it was a good thing Lady Grantham had been there. For there had been a great deal of shock and a great deal more questions. And coming from Lord Grantham, both that shock and those questions had taken on rather a sharp edge.

For instance, the self-proclaimed caretaker of Downton could have taken note of his wife's example in this matter. Lady Grantham had insisted on inquiring about the matter and gently gathering the facts. In her eyes, to successfully do as such might take more than one conversation, and would require great tact.

Her husband, on the other hand, opted for a... more direct approach:

"But why did you keep it a secret?"

Somehow, it didn't seem appropriate to either employee to mention that Lord Grantham had been one of the largest reasons they'd kept it a secret. Nor did it seem wise to mention that this secret had been kept for thirteen years. The married couple could only be thankful their employer had refrained for asking how long they had been married –– though, given the man's inquisitive nature, it was only a matter of time.

Thankfully, his interrogation was being tempered out by a more gracious approach, "Robert! All that matters now is that they've told us."

Yes, it was quite a boon that Lady Grantham was there.

The aristocrat gracefully carried on, "Although it is a bit of a surprise, we're delighted to be the first to be entrusted with this secret. Aren't we, Robert?"

Her husband agreed, albeit a bit too reluctantly for the butler's taste. Said butler was far more nervous about this ordeal than even he realised, having been praying for a peaceful resolution ever since the reality of this came upon him. Fortunately, their employers were taking the news reasonably well, all things considered.

Nevertheless, there was still one more question that needed answering.

"Of course you can expect to remain at Downton."

Lord Grantham stared at his wife for a moment, before muttering something about how it would be rather difficult to replace his butler and housekeeper at the same time. The American shot him a dark look for such a remark, excusing his behaviour at once before diplomatically shifting the subject.

Nevertheless, that didn't stop her husband from making one final question, "Does anyone downstairs know?"

"No, milord." "Not yet, my Lord."

"Well, that should prove interesting." Eventually the conversation subsided into an awkwardness no one was willing to admit. There were facts that needed to be ascertained, but this had proved enough of a shock it seemed time was required before anything else could be learned. The pair became dismissed not longer afterwards.

But before the door could fully shut behind them, "I don't suppose they'll ever tell us how long this has been going on?"

"Robert, honestly,"


Beryl Patmore


The housekeeper and butler had been prepared for a great many things upon introducing this to the cook. She had been prepared for unnecessary ribbing, if not a jagged sort of incredulity. He had braced himself for remarks that went beyond cheek, not to mention God knows what else.

"Am I supposed to be surprised?"

Elsie blinked. Charles attempted a stammer.

"Well," "Erm, right."

"Because the only thing that'll surprise me is if that girl gets tonight's soufflé's right."

"I see." "Right."

"Does he always repeat himself?"

The housekeeper shook her head at the question, far too intrigued to take offense, "Why aren't you surprised?"

The cook snorted, refusing to give away a thing. Instead, she turned away to poke her head into the hall, beady eyes glaring back into her domain, "Da–– DAISY! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO? KILL US ALL?"

The door opened and shut without a second thought, leaving the pair in a stunned silence.

"I can't tell," He slowly began, "Did that go well?"

Elsie Carson, née Hughes, looked at her husband. She then looked back in the direction of the cook. She then turned back to him, opened her mouth to speak before deciding it would be best to leave it close. She then gazed back toward the woman in question before once again pivoting back to her husband and deciding to settle the matter with an uncharacteristic gesture:

Charles Carson was brought out of his shock at the sight of wife giving a rather exaggerated shrug, the sight so strangely abnormal he couldn't help but find it amusing. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to a chuckle, not when he was still struggling to comprehend what had just happened. But he could find amusement in the gesture.

And soon enough, so could she.


Lady Mary and Matthew


Lady Mary hadn't quite spat out her tea in response to the news. Rather, the woman got as close to spitting out one's tea as she possibly could: a blink befell her, a coiffed eyebrow raising, her mouth contorting with a mild sense of confusion.

Matthew found both the circumstances and Lady Mary's response to be strangely enchanting. He briefly thought of how life had a tendency to surprise one in the most curious of ways, wondered if he would be privy to such a surprise, and found himself content whatever the case may be.

And if his thoughts wandered toward a certain brunette, well, there was no harm in wondering.


Anna and Mr. Bates


Anna did not have the pleasure of receiving the news firsthand. However, upon hearing the supposedly shocking tale, the head housemaid found herself delighted. She decided then and there to congratulate at least the housekeeper, if not the pair. She also decided that there was no longer an excuse for Mr. Bates to avoid her on various subjects, such as his secret past and their feelings toward one another. If Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes could maintain such a relationship, however long it'd gone on for, surely they could consider it themselves!

As for the valet? He simply took the news in stride, having suspected such a marriage existed from the moment he stepped foot in Downton. There was nothing too obvious, just an occasional glance that spoke more than words ever could, that sort of thing. He found himself happy for the pair, and could only wish of such happiness for himself.

Of course, now that his superiors had revealed themselves to be married, he also had the feeling his litany of excuses –– excuses to avoid discussing such topics as love and marriage –– were beginning to vanish. If only thanks to a rather beautiful, equally brilliant, head housemaid.


Mrs. Crawley


To put it bluntly, Isobel Crawley had been ecstatic to hear of such news! She never would have pegged Carson for the secretly married type but, if she were to be quite honest, hearing that only had her esteem of the man rise! As for Mrs. Hughes, the capable housekeeper had always impressed her. Had their employment at Downton taken a turn for the worse, she would have happily offered any help she could.

Now, if only she could congratulate the butler on the subject. She had been able to speak to the housekeeper easily enough, but Carson seemed to be avoiding her every chance he got!


Mr. Moseley


Mr. Moseley confessed to being rather surprised by it all, briefly wondering if such a thing would ever befall him. Upon considering the situation, he decided the only person he wanted to become more acquainted with –– Anna Smith, that is –– looked be to entirely smitten with someone else. And thus, it all seemed rather unlikely.

Ah, well. With his luck, even if he did find someone who was smitten with him, it would take him years to do anything about it.


Lady Edith


Upon witnessing her sister's continued reaction to the circumstances –– really, watching Mary's face twitch every time the matter was discussed was something else altogether –– Lady Edith pretended to have known the truth all along.

Not only that, she gave her full approval of the decision whenever the subject was brought up. The middle daughter took delight in watching her older sister's eyes roll each and every time. But, truly, she was pleased with the matter. Because if Carson of all people could find love, anyone could.

Or, so she hoped.


William, Daisy, and Gwen


He had meant what he said about the housekeeper being a kind woman. William thought the world of Mrs. Hughes, and to hear that she had found her own happiness –– that she'd had it all this time –– meant more than he could say.

As for Daisy, the kitchen maid had gaped at the idea of Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes being married. To each other. The very thought was too weird for words, even if it did help her cling to her own love of her life. Said love was currently telling William off, wonderfully slick hair glinting in the light of the kitchen and making her heart swoon.

Gwen shook her head at Daisy's actions, smiling apologetically toward William. She liked William, she really did. And to see him so happy about this, barely able to keep a grin back, was nice. It was also nice to know that the Scottish Dragon no longer could stop them from seeing any admirers, not now that they all knew the truth.

But did that extend to typewriters? To life beyond service?

"Mr. Carson?" Blue eyes turned in the direction of the housekeeper and butler. What should have been a normal exchange sounded different. Kinder.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes?"

Yes, The maid decided, continuing to discreetly observe the pair. It really did seem that this newfound difference, this newfound kindness, extended to much more.


Lady Sybil and Mr. Branson


Lady Sybil softly smiled upon being told the news, having thought their butler and housekeeper married for years. Something about a hazy memory involving toys being juggled to the tune of a lilt –– something she was convinced happened to this day.

"Really, milady?" Tom Branson curiously asked about the memory, glancing back at her through the mirror. He thought he'd seen something between the pair in question, but he hadn't been here long enough to tell. That Lady Sybil had been convinced for years, never faltering in her belief, was only a testament to her character.

"Yes, but you must promise not to tell." He agreed at once, rather liking the thought of sharing in this little secret. "They think I've forgotten all about it and I'd like to keep it that way for now."

The chauffeur's smile widened, sensing the makings of a plan in those words. But she remained persistently tight-lipped about the matter, much to his amusement.


Thomas and Miss O'Brien


Thomas scowled as he was forced to hand the money over. He hadn't thought Mr. Carson the type to break the rules, plain and simple. But his comrade-in-arms had always had second thoughts, smugly smirking as she accepted her prize for being right.

As for Miss O'Brien's reaction to the truth? Was there anything beyond a smugness? Truthfully? Yes. She could smirk and pocket the money all she liked –– the woman still regretted she'd never tried to test the waters, try to turn the situation to her advantage.


The Dowager


Lord Grantham had taken it upon himself to share the news with his mother. Simply put, Robert wanted the pleasure of being the one to tell her the news, to watch her struggle to compose herself for once.

"I was wondering when they would be saying something." Violet Crawley proclaimed, exasperated. "Tell me: was it Carson or Mrs. Hughes who officially spoke?"

"What?" And once he truly took the words in, "Am I to take it they told you?"

"They didn't need to. It was obvious."

"'Obvious'?" But Robert Crawley was in no mood to take the subject any further. So much for shocking his dear Mama. It seemed best to dismiss that conversation and move onto his real dilemma, "Cora told them it was acceptable for them to stay on, but I have to wonder otherwise––"

"Why?" When her son continued to stare, his jaw struggling to refrain from plummeting, his eyes daring to bulge, "When they've managed to run the house so efficiently all this time?"

"But how many of those years have they spent––" The aristocrat couldn't summon the words, still in a state of shock over the matter. No matter how much time he'd given himself, the facts before him remained unnerving.

His mother ignored him, "I do hope she isn't expected to be called Mrs. Carson. There are some lines that should never be crossed."

"'Mrs. Carson'?" The man sputtered, looking to have been sent back a few paces. "I–– I don't think so. And I doubt I'd be able to manage it if she did."

Another look, this one far more amused, "Do you really think you'd have a choice in the matter?"

His scowl renewed itself, the man deeply put out. She didn't particularly care, thinking her son rather childish in this regard. Of all of their employees, Carson and Mrs. Hughes have proven themselves imminent professionals. To get rid of them would be to let the entail go unquestioned –– thoroughly unacceptable.


Charles and Elsie


Had it been a long week for the married couple? With a strange host of congratulations creeping in left and right? There was a mixture of hushed sentiments and rambunctious praise, all sorts of enthusiasm incessantly flooding the pair. Not to mention the repetitive stares and unabashed gapes, members of the house and the village resembling codfishes on more than one occasion.

She could only suppose the real question was, had it only been a week?

But Elsie Carson decided it wasn't worth it to contemplate the matter. Not when she had something far more important to attend to.

"I don't suppose," The housekeeper entered her husband's pantry with more than a little amusement. It seemed their marriage was the most interesting topic to date. Luckily, now that the week was coming to an end, they were finally getting some necessary time alone. "You've heard the news?"

Charles was entirely distracted by his work, oblivious to her tone, "What news?"

"It seems," The woman continued on over to him, refusing to bite back a pleased grin. They were alone for the first time in days, she would be enjoying every second. "Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson have been married this entire time, if you can believe it."

Exasperation shot across the room, meeting the woman halfway, "Oh, really?"

"Yes." She informed him, failing to look as serious as she sounded. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Mr. Carson?"

Exasperation didn't last long, not when she was looking at him like that. "I can't say, Mrs. Hughes. But if anyone would have had an idea, I would've thought it you."

The housekeeper took her customary chair in the pantry, looking to give the question a great deal of thought, "You know, I think I suspected something."

He set aside all papers at once, all ears, "Really?"

She hummed in response, "I suppose I could tell you, but you ought to promise you'll keep it a secret. We wouldn't want anyone getting any ideas."

"Of course. You have my word." His demeanour was the definition of solemnity, a stern tone maintaining itself effortlessly, "Are you sure this is a safe distance? You never know who might be listening."

Ignoring the fact that everyone had retired for the night, "You make an excellent point, Mr. Carson. We must take every precaution we can."

With that in mind, she made to get up from the chair. There was, after all, only one logical destination to discuss such a matter.

He took her into his arms without question, "Indeed, Mrs. Carson."

Elsie chuckled, "You're never going to tire of saying that, are you?"

A knowing look was shot off for such a question, the answer rather clear after all this time. Instead, "Now, what gave them away?"

"If you must know," She cheekily began, leaning in so as to be able to properly inform him of every detail.

"I simply must,"


In Response to Guest Reviewers: To dsky, oh, I'm so glad you liked the Dowager's perspective, not to mention Mrs. Patmore's! My honest confession about the Dowager is that I'm always terrified of doing her perspective (because her voice is so amazing it's like, "Do I really want to risk butchering that brilliant perspective?"). And, in regards to Lord Grantham, I can definitely see that. Once again, thank you ❤︎

To the guest who found this lovely, thank you! It warms my heart to hear you enjoyed this piece!

Author's Note: I'll leave it up to you what happens next ;) :)

In any case, I really hope you enjoyed this and that you have a marvelous day! It was a treat putting together so many perspectives for this, and just the whole thing was very sweet to write ❤︎ 'Till next time.