I apologize for any errors I've made, but English isn't my first language, and though I'm trying my best to avoid them, I know that I've might missed something.

She looked like a bird.

Colorful bands of silk whirled around her fragile silhouette as she kept dancing wildly in the middle of Entrance Hall, her melodic laugh echoed within the cold walls. She threw her head back and wrapped arms tighter around her handsome partner, who tried to steady her before they both fall down on the floor. They were so preoccupied with each other, they weren't even aware of an audience they have.

Thomas was on his way to the Library, when he heard a playful giggles coming out from the Entrance Hall. He was sure that all family and their guests were already seated down and waited for tea, but another melodic laugh proved he had to be wrong.

'Have you heard that, Mr. Barrow?' Alfred suddenly asked him, his eyes staring at the direction of Hall.

'Heard what?' Thomas asked uninterested, playing dumb, and lazily turned around to look at lad.

'A laugh.' The footman continued quietly with flushed cheeks. 'I thought everyone are in the Library.'

'And they are.' The under butler said with a shrug, before his face broke into smirk, as the sudden thought formed in his head. 'Maybe it's a ghost.'

'Ghost?' Alfred repeated with frown.

'Yes, ghost. I'm sure Mrs. O'Brien had to mention it to you.' His face was a blank mask, not telling anything back.

'You're making a fool of me, aren't you, Mr. Barrow?' The lad snorted angrily, though Thomas already noticed the flash of curious in his eyes. 'There's no ghosts in Downton. I've never seen a one, and no one's here mentioned anything about it, either.'

'Well, it isn't like you can freely speak about ghosts, is it?' The under butler shrugged. 'Especially in the presence of Mr. Carson.' As if any ghost would pass along the butler's first examination, if they're worthy to walk around Downton. His smirk grew, as he recalled something. 'You can always ask Daisy about that, if you still don't believe me. She was taking a part in our spiritual séance, when the ghost spoke up to her.' He added in confident whisper, knowing he'd catch the bait. Everyone knew there was no one so trustful and innocent like her, and whatever she said, it must be truth. Just like he hoped, Alfred considered it for moment, his cheeks paled.

'But why exactly the ghost would speak to Daisy?' Because she's able to believe in everything you said to her, Thomas thought.

'Maybe because it is a ghost of William?' He suggested with raised eyebrow, but Alfred only was staring back at him, dumfounded, looking even more stupid than he always was. 'He was a footman once, here in Downton. And also Daisy's husband. I'm sure you heard about him.' He explained patiently and the realization finally hit Alfred, his eyes grew up in surprise.

'Oh, and you think, he's still there, Mr. Barrow?' He tried to keep his voice steady, but Thomas already noticed it was shaking along with his hands. The under butler only hoped he won't dropped the teapot, before he reaches the Library.

'We all know he is still there…He has always been very responsible for his work, and I wouldn't be surprised, if he still tries to do it. He just loves to have everything under control. He had to be really annoyed with you and James making such a mess around the house.' The lie very easily slipped from his lips.

'That's why I heard him?' He was white like a wall behind him.

'Do you really need to ask?' When another laugh echoed within walls, Thomas shooed Alfred to the Library, while he decided to check the source of the noise. He stayed in the shadow, while his eyes inspect the scene in front of him. He didn't has doubts that the dancing lady was no one else, but Milady Brasher, though he couldn't tell who was her partner. He tried to catch a glimpse of his face, but he was moving too quickly and stay far away from the light, to give Thomas a chance to identify him.

Almost on tiptoes he walked over the nearest pillar and kept them watching, a small smirk formed on his lips. They were so absorbed with a dance, they seemed to completely forgot where are they and that everyone are already waiting for them in Library. Thomas wondered if he should interrupt them, when his ears caught the sound of upcoming steps. He withdraw back and curious waited how the situation will unfold.

'Charlotte!' A laugh died on Milady Brasher parted lips, her dark eyes focused at the small, corpulent figure of her father standing at the top of the stairs. His face was red of anger and embarrassment, fingers curled into fists.

'Oh, papa, we're just dancing!' She exclaimed with unfading smile, the black cascade of hair fall softly on her arms.

'Now there's no place and time for this!' He yelled outraged and glared warily at the man with arms still wrapped around his daughter. 'Would you mind, Patrick?!' She rolled her eyes and unhappily pulled back from her partner. The man bowed with grace, the ends of his ears turned pink, while Thomas ears perked up with interest. Was it possible, that the man who just danced with Milady, was the missing footman, Patrick Coleman? But he hadn't even look like Coleman. His silhouette was quite slim, he was tall and was moving with such a grace the cat could envy him. He couldn't be a servant, yet surely not that young Coleman he had known. 'Would you join your family in the Library, or you rather make a fool of me?'

'We didn't do nothing wrong, Papa.' She disagreed, her eyebrows furrowed.

'That's enough, Charlotte! I have enough your silliness as for one day!' Her jaw clenched and eyes flashed with anger, but she didn't dare to say nothing more. 'And you…' He turned toward the man, at the same time as he noticed a dark figure passing by the pillars. 'Mr. Bagwell, is that you?' Lord Brasher called out.

'No, my Lord.' Thomas swore in mind and reluctantly walked out into the middle of the Hall Entrance and bowed slightly. He blushed under steady gaze of Lord Brasher and feel even more unsure, when Milady turned around to take a look at him.

'Oh, it's…'

'Barrow, sir.' Thomas offered with a small smile.

'Ah, the under butler.' Lord Brasher nodded his head. 'I believe Milady just lost her way to Library.' The woman huffed and folded her arms, looking like petulant child.

'With pleasure, I'll lead Milady to Library.'

'And I would like to have a word with you, Patrick, before we go upstairs.' Thomas eyes glued to the back of mysterious man, who didn't even bother to look at him.

'Right, here?' The other man asked quietly, surprised.

'If I can suggest, the Saloon is empty, sir.' Thomas offered quickly as he patiently waited for Milady to follow him.

'Very good, Barrow.' Lord Brasher nodded with a smile. 'After you, Patrick.' They barely made a few steps, when another voice rang in the Hall.

'Everyone's already in the Library, Sir. They're only waiting for you and Milady.' Thomas looked up at the stairs once again, where was already standing the good-looking boy he has seen earlier. In a black clothes and with very pale face looking like a mask, he easily could be taken for a ghost, and for a short moment the under butler regret he hadn't bring Alfred with himself.

'Oh, yes, the tea.' Lord Brasher muttered, his face softened. 'We will follow you, Bagwell. And we finish this later, Patrick. After tea.'

'Milady?' Mr. Bagwell asked with a pitching voice, his stone face hadn't show any emotions, as he patiently waited at the top of stairs.

'Yes, yes, I'm coming.' Milady said almost with growl and slowly began climbing up, Lord Brasher shortly after her.

'Ah, that was a close one.' The mysterious man said with a smile and finally turned around, so Thomas could see his face. 'Mr. Bagwell just saved my skin.' His eyes lit up even more when he got a closer look at the under butler, and he recognized him. 'It's you!' He beamed, surprised. 'The man from the stairs.' Thomas smiled slightly, couldn't believe his own eyes, either.

'And you're perhaps the missing footman, I was looking for all day?' The other man's cheeks immediately turned pink.

'I'm so sorry, Lord Brasher changed his mind in the last minute. We didn't even have a chance to contact with Mr. Carson and warn him about the change of plans.' Thomas prepared himself for that confrontation all day. He was sure nothing would manage to stop him from saying loud what exactly he thinks about latecomers servants, but when they finally stood face to face, he just couldn't be angry at Patrick anymore. There was something about his smile. He believed it easily could melt the ice, let alone the heart, even if it was hard as stone and belonged to the most hateful person in Downton.

'There's no reason to apologize…We were just worrying that something might happened to you.' Though few minutes earlier he was ready to bite his head off without the blink of an eye.

'In that case I should apologize for worry you. It wasn't my intention.' Thomas couldn't take his eyes off him; A dim light danced over his high cheekbones and almost perfect skin, sharp teeth chewed on his already slick low lip, while his hazel eyes were intently watching the under butler back. He was pretty, yet there was something wild in him- maybe it was because of his fluffy, uncombed hair and that unusual dark patch of hair on his chin, or how his alerted eyes were inspecting carefully everything around himself, reminding the under butler of a wildcat. Patrick Coleman grew up to be a very interesting creature, Thomas thought, already forgetting about the chubby boy with dirty face he'd think about for the last two days.

'Mr. Carson has to see you.' He muttered with his eyes casted down, small blush creep out into his cheeks.

'I can't meet with Mr. Carson, until I have a talk with Lord Brasher. I believe he wouldn't like to search for me after tea.' He smiled softly and nodded at the stairs. 'I better be going. But I'll see you later, Mr. Barrow?' There was that hint of hope in the man's voice, which made Thomas smile and his heart jumped a bit. It was a nice feeling; he hadn't remember when someone seemed to be so eager to see him again, at all meet with him.

'If you're supposed to work as a footman in Downton, it's very likely.' Patrick nodded slightly his head and with one last look at the other man, he swaggered toward the stairs. Thomas watched him go with a little thought forming in his head; he just wished he could see Mr. Carson's face, when he finally meets famous Mr. Coleman.

Alfred and Thomas were doubling and tripling to satisfy Mr. Carson, but the man seemed to be less and less pleased with their every effort. If not the spoon was at a good distance from the dessert plate, then there was something else that butler will notice, and demand immediate improvement. Even Bates – Carson's favorite pupil – did have a lot of problems to impress the man tonight, and looked like he was close to throw everything in the air and limped back to the cottage.

'Whatever I do, in Mr. Carson's eyes, it's always done wrong.' Alfred sulked, using the occasion when butler was out of the kitchen, to torment someone else.

'I'm sure Mr. Carson doesn't think like that.' Mrs. Hughes said with a soothing smile, although it wasn't a secret how much the butler dislikes a footman. Everyone knew that very well, and though Alfred wasn't the sharpest tool in the drawer, he wasn't completely blind, either.

'And I think he does.' The footman scowled. 'Even if James has done something wrong, it was me first to blame.'

'At least now, it's not only me being responsible for all the evil in Downton.' Mr. Barrow chimed in with a smirk, and even at Bates tired face appear a small smile.

'But didn't Mr. Carson help you around, when you asked him for advice?' Mrs. Hughes recalled gently, deciding to change the tactic.

'It doesn't mean anything, Mrs. Hughes. Sometimes James is asking Mr. Carson for help too, and yet, he's threatening him much better than me.'

'I'm sure it is only because of Lord Grantham's old friend's visit, and soon everything will be back to norm.'

'Like it was better a week ago.' Alfred muttered unhappily and lifted up his silver tray. 'I just hope Mr. Carson will focus on the new footman now, and let me take a breath.'

'You haven't seen him yet, and you're already wishing him the worst?' Mr. Barrow asked mockingly. 'Now, you can tell you have to share the same family with Mrs. O'Brien.'

'Mr. Barrow, please, take care of your work.' Mrs. Hughes said in a warning tone as she noticed Alfred cheeks turned pink. 'We all better do it, before Mr. Carson says he's the only one who's working hard and we're doing everything to ruin the honor of Downton.' She added quieter and marched away.

'I thought we've already done it, when I placed napkin one inch further than it should be.' Mr. Barrow added with another smirk.

'No, it was still more like prelude to proper sabotage.' Bates said and for the first time in a long time, John and Thomas were laughing together like two good friends.

'I see you have a good time.' They gasped startled when Mr. Carson's authoritative voice rang behind their backs. 'Alfred, you've already took a sauceboat upstairs, haven't you?'

'Almost, Mr. Carson.' Alfred stuttered and almost ran away from the kitchen under butler's heavy stare.

'And how about you, Mr. Bates and Mr. Barrow?'

'As Alfred said, we're almost done.' Thomas replied and stood face to face with older man, without problems withstanding his intensive stare.

'Good. I'd like to see you in the Dining Room in few minutes.' Mr. Carson said sharply and with last look at under butler, he again left the kitchen. His eyebrows frowned when he spotted unfamiliar figure standing in the end of corridor, helplessly looking around the walls. 'Can I help you, sir?' He boomed and quickly approached startled lad.

'I'm searching for Mr. Carson.' The man replied with unsure look.

'It's me, sir. How can I help you?'

'I'm Patrick Coleman. A new footman. Mr. Barrow suggested I should find you…' Mr. Carson blinked few times, not quite believed his own eyes.

'New footman?' He finally repeated, dumbfounded.

'Yes, new footman. I thought Lord Brasher informed Lord Grantham I was supposed to arrive today with other servants? I'm even supposed to replace one of your footman, until he'll be able to work again.' The man didn't look even less confused than butler.

'Yes, I know that, but I was expecting someone…' He watched Patrick carefully, not sure how to explain his doubts.

'Someone like?' Patrick encouraged with unsure smile.

'Someone who will look like a footman.' Mr. Carson finally said. 'I do not mean to offend you, Mr. Coleman, but Downton has its reputation, and His Lordship expects his servants to keep the standards of the house.' Patrick watched him clearly puzzled. 'Your appearance is beyond the standards, Mr. Coleman, and that's what is worrying me the most.' He hoped that he expressed himself clearly this time.

'Is it about my clothes, Mr. Carson? I know they weren't made in France, but they're clean and I'm not wearing them during my work. Besides I know I'd get a livery, so…'

'I was more concerned about other parts of your appearance, Mr. Coleman. It is clear that as a footman you're going to wear livery just like other footmen in this house.' Mr. Carson replied annoyed, and motioned at the man's head. 'You should keep your hair neatly. That spiky bands over your eyes and ears have to disappear, and if you have a problem with having them in place, use pomade. They can't look like a bird's nest. And that…' He pointed at his own chin.

'Goatee, Mr. Carson.' Patrick offered with a smug smile.

'Yes, that thing also, has to disappear, Mr. Coleman. You face is supposed to be clean-shaved.'

'And that's all, Mr. Carson?' He raised eyebrow questioningly, small smirk played across his lips.

'For now it is.'

'Well, in that case I believe we're able to reach some kind of compromise.' Patrick stated and clapped his hands together.

'Compromise?' Mr. Carson boomed, wondering if the footman really understood what he has said to him. 'You're obligated to improve your appearance, if you want to work as a footman.'

'I'm already working as a footman, Mr. Carson, and if I remember good I'm suppose to help you, only because of Lord Brasher's good will. And it's Downton which needs me, not the other way.' Patrick smiled sweetly, enjoying the look of utter shock on butler's face. 'You're out of one footman and I offer I can replace him, but if you don't wish me to do it and be anywhere close to Lord Grantham, I'll happily just stay round my Lordship.'

'Mr. Coleman, your impertinence…'

'Mr. Carson, we're ready.' They both turned around to look at Mr. Barrow standing few feet away from Mr. Carson, self-satisfied smirk adorned his face. The butler darted his eyes from one man to another.

'As it is already late, Mr. Barrow will introduce you to your tasks tomorrow morning, Mr. Coleman.' Mr. Carson announced in official tone, though the way he was watching the younger man, you could tell he would be more obligated to show him the back door and make sure he'd never comes back.

'Of course, Mr. Carson.' Patrick nodded his head with unfading smile.

'Mr. Barrow do you have any objections?' The butler asked, although they way he had asked, suggested the answer could be the only one.

'No, Mr. Carson. I'll make sure Mr. Coleman knows his duties just after breakfast.'

'In that case, Mr. Coleman, you have a day off, today.' The butler said reluctantly. 'Now, I have other things to take care of. Mr. Barrow?'

'I'm right behind you, Mr. Carson.' Thomas replied with a gleam in his eye as he reciprocate a smile with Patrick, and shortly followed the older man.

'Aren't you suppose to work?' Patrick jumped startled as the familiar, gently voice rang behind his back. He turned on the heel and dissatisfied faced another servant.

'Ah, Mr. Bagwell.' He drawled, his lips stretched in a nasty smirk, as the face of other lad turned into grimace. 'Shouldn't I ask the same you?'

'His Lordship is taking a bath and doesn't need my presence.' He replied shortly, his dark eyes eyeing intently the footman. 'But you hadn't answer me, yet. What are you doing upstairs, swaggering across the halls like a loon?'

'I have a day for myself, though I really don't know how to enjoy it. I don't have nothing to do, and even don't have anyone to hang out with.' He finally replied and moved closer to Mr. Bagwell. 'And I already got into Mr. Carson's bad books.'

'Already?' He repeated in disbelief. 'You amazed me more with each passing day.' He shook his head with a chuckle. 'Isn't he a butler? You realize, you couldn't find worse person to be on the war track with?'

'I realized too late.' Patrick muttered with sheepishly smile. 'But at least Mr. Barrow is on my side.'

'That handsome under butler you've bumped into? Better be careful, Patrick, from what I overheard, he and Mr. Carson's aren't on the good terms, either.' He warned in confidential whisper. 'Your friendship with Mr. Barrow might harm your reputation.'

'Like I've already started on the good foot with Mr. Carson.' Patrick's voice dripped with sarcasm. 'Have you heard anything else?'

'Not yet, but it's only matter of time, before I learn something new.' He said with a smirk and quickly snatched his hand back, when Patrick ran his fingers over it with a smug smile. 'Don't!' He warned, his eyes darted around in panic, to make sure no one's saw them.

'I'll meet you later, right?' Patrick asked in whisper, lips formed into small, gently smile.

'We all meet for dinner, if it is what you're suggesting.' He said sharply and nodded at the door behind his back. 'His Lordship will search for me. I need to go.'

'I don't stop you.' He raised hands up with a smirk. 'You're standing there on your own will.' Mr. Bagwell opened his mouth to say something back, when the second door behind him, opened violently and Milady Brasher rushed out from the room.

'I thought so, I heard you, Patrick!' She cooed, her face lit up with a wide smile.

'Milady.' Patrick bowed with a charming smile, while Mr. Bagwell huffed under the nose and barely stopped his lips to turn into grimace. 'Is there anything I can do for you?'

'The lamp in my bedroom suddenly stopped working. I thought you could take a look on it?' She fluttered her eyelashes on him.

'You should asked one of the maids or Mr. Carson for help, Milady. My only knowledge about electricity is how to switch on the lamp.'

'Ah, I don't think they could repair it as good as you.'

'I'm sure, milady, they're capable of repair the lamp in your bedroom.' Mr. Bagwell said in confident voice. 'They had electricity much earlier, before Patrick 's arrive.' He added sarcastically, but milady seemed to not heard his small remark, as she was completely absorbed with a footman.

'I'd be much calmer if you take a look on it, Patrick.' Milady insisted and took the man by the arm. 'Charles, please find Marie and tell I need her.'

'But Lord…'

'My father doesn't need his valet to stay with him all the time.' She stated and pulled Patrick forward. 'Find Marie.'

'Of course, milady.' Mr. Bagwell bowed, and though his face was a neutral mask, his eyes were already darker because of anger and annoyance he was feeling right there. He turned on his heel and obediently walked down the stairs, in his ears still lingered milady's irritating laugh. He was already counting days to their return to home.

'As I believe, everyone already knew, that Mr. Coleman will be replacing James, until his leg heals enough, so he could go back to work.' Mr. Carson announced and reluctantly glanced at the smiling at other servants footman. 'Also, I'd like to announce that during Lord Brasher's and his family stay, their servants will eat with us.'

'For how long they're going to stay in?' Mrs. Patmore asked almost in scowl, didn't like the fact she'd has to feed another few mouths. Mr. Carson looked at her warily.

'For a week.' Patrick replied, his eyes scanned the table in search for the best place to sit. 'Unless His Lordship will feel so good in Downton, he wouldn't like to leave it so soon.' He chose a place between Anna and Charles, deciding it was probably the wisest choice. Mrs. Bates seemed to be nice enough to make a small talk with her and Charles wasn't the lady for whose favor would have to fight with other male servants and deal with their jealousy to the end of his stay in Downton. Small smirk splayed over his face, as he felt how valet's body tensed next to him.

'You really can't stay away from him.' Mr. Bagwell suddenly muttered on his right. Patrick glanced at him confused, his eyebrows drew near.

'What do you mean?' He whispered, but he found the answer, before the valet says anything. The burning gaze from the opposite seat he was feeling on himself since he had had sat down, was belonging to no one else, but Mr. Barrow. The usual pale cheeks were colored with pink, his thin lips stretched into almost shy smile. He couldn't help, but think how cute he looked.

'Should I already feel abandoned?' Charles added in mocking tone. Patrick's head already snapped into his direction with worried expression.

'Have you lost your mind?' He asked harshly, this time much louder than he intended to, so they catch the attention of all servants.

'Mr. Coleman, we do not talk during the meals.' Mr. Carson informed with hard face.

'I'm sorry, Mr. Carson. It won't happen again.' Patrick replied with eyes cast down on the plate.

'With such a progress you make, you won't help yourself.' Charles muttered again, but the footman decided to stay quiet this time, and stabbed the chicken's leg with a fork.

'James wouldn't eat anything tonight?' Daisy asked worried, when she stormed into servant's hall.

'He shouldn't leave his bed for few days to not overload his foot.' Mrs. Hughes replied and smiled in a friendly manner at new footman.

'Ivy or Caroline will carry the diner to his room, after we finish.' Mr. Carson added.

'I can take a dinner for Jimmy. I was going to see him, anyway.' Thomas offered quickly and everyone got quiet. Patrick and Charles looked curious around the table, while the others focused their eyes at Mr. Carson.

'In that case Mr. Barrow will carry the meal for James.' The butler finally decided after Thomas bravely withdraw his hard stare. 'Now, please, go back to your meals. Mrs. Patmore had to work very hard for all day to prepare them for us.' The under butler only smirked and winked at watching him with growing interest Charles. In return the lad's eyes turned cold, his upper lip twitched minimally. The reaction surprised Thomas, and he instantly darted his eyes at Patrick, but the other man was busy playing with his dinner to notice anything.

'I believe, Mr. Barrow, you'll have a better look at Mr. Coleman, than you had at James and Alfred.' Mr. Carson said without looking at under butler. 'I do not think His Lordship would like to open convalescent hospital in Downton, once again.' Thomas exchanged a look with Mrs. Hughes. 'Am I clear, Mr. Barrow?'

'Crystal, Mr. Carson.' The under butler muttered and pushed his plate aside. Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore.

Thomas balanced a tray on the health hand and gently knocked on the door's of James bedroom. After quiet come in, he slipped inside the room and spotted James sitting on the bed and reading one of the books he'd borrow him earlier.

'Oh, it's you.' Jimmy didn't hide his disappointment, when Thomas put a tray on the bedside table and pulled up the chair.

'I'm glad you're happy to see me.' The under butler muttered back with gloomy face.

'It's not like that!' Jimmy protested and reached out for his dinner. 'I'm glad you came around to see me, but….' He trailed off, his cheekbones colored in red.

'But you'd prefer Caroline instead of me.' Thomas finished for him, a small pang of jealous hit his heart. 'I'll remember to ask her tomorrow to carry a breakfast for you.'

'No, it's fine.' He sighed heavily and fixed his eyes at older man. 'With you I can talk and play cards, while with Caroline... Well, let's say I'd just quickly get bored again.'

'So, you're saying you like me around because I'm a good entertainment for you?' He didn't know if he should feel flattered that Jimmy chose him over Caroline, or be annoyed that he wants to see him only because of his own selfish reasons. The young footman's face immediately hardened as he got suspicious about Thomas choice of words, and watched him with narrowed eyes.

'What you meant by saying you're a good entertainment?' He asked briskly, his eyebrows drew near.

'Do you really have to take whatever I say to you as a sexual harassment?' Thomas snapped, losing the rest of his patience with him. 'I bring a dinner for you, because you're my friend and you're in need, but I hadn't come in to be insulted. I've never made any move at you since that night, yet, you're threatening me like I wasn't thinking about anything else, but how to get into your pants!' He hissed, being sick of Jimmy's constant accusations. Didn't he trust him even a bit?

'I didn't mean to upset you! You know, that I'm always saying something without thinking.' He apologized sincerely, when Thomas almost jumped off the chair. 'I do want to be your friend, no matter, what's happened earlier.' He was ready to beg him to stay, his eyes with pleading staring back at older man, who just in return kept staring at him with unreadable face. 'Please?'

'Apologize accepted.' The under butler muttered after a pause and returned to the chair.

'Maybe we just change the subject.' Jimmy suggested with nervous smile and pushed a tray aside. 'So, tell me, what do you think about the new footman?' He asked, when Thomas nodded his head in agreement.

'He seemed to be nice. I hadn't seen him working, yet, so I can't tell, if he's better than you or not.' He replied evasively, couldn't help himself from wind up Jimmy a bit.

'You don't have to see him work, to know he won't be any better than me.' James sulked, just like Thomas predicted. There was any better way to annoy the footman, than point out that he's not Mr. Perfect in everything. 'And don't tell me it's everything you're able to say about him.' He continued in scowl. 'At least tell me if he's handsome.'

'Why?' Thomas asked alarmed, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, ready to attack back.

'I'd rather not have to fight with him over Caroline's feelings.' He muttered and Thomas face softened. 'So is he?'

'He's good-looking, but I hadn't noticed Caroline drooling over him, yet.' He smirked. 'Anyway, soon you'd be back on your feet, so there's no need to worry.'

'What else do you know about him? And don't tell me you hadn't notice anything.' So, Thomas told him about what happened in Entrance Hall, and how he handled Mr. Carson.

'Do you think they're just like Lady Sybil and Branson?' Jimmy inquired, when the under butler finished talk. 'Mr. Carson will get heart attack when he sees them together.'

'I don't know. Maybe they are, or maybe that's the part of Patrick's duty, to entertain milady.' He shrugged off, not sure what to think about their unusual bond, yet.

'Oh, so you're already using his Christian name?' The footman noted with a wry smile. 'It sounds like you might know him a little bit better than you intend to tell me, you liar.'

'I told you I saw him only twice while he was a kid, and he doesn't even remember me.' Thomas replied slowly, hoping he'd finally stop torment him. 'Today, I shared with him only few words.'

'And yet, you're calling him Patrick, and he's calling you Thomas in return, isn't he? So, you rather know about him more than you're saying, or you already take a shine on him.' The older man's eyes narrowed, jaw clenched with anger, but before he could muster any response, Mr. Carson's voice resounded in the servants quarters along with steps of other servants coming upstairs to their bedroom.

'I need to go.' Thomas felt relief and with pleasure pushed the chair away. 'I'll try to see you tomorrow.'

'And you do better thing about better answers.' Jimmy called after him. Stubborn, little shit, Thomas thought angrily and hardly stopped himself from slamming the door behind himself.

'Are you alright, Mr. Barrow?' He turned startled, when a warm voice spoke on his left. It was Patrick, his face wear a worried expression.

'Yes, why wouldn't I?' He asked back, his eyebrows drew near, as he wondered about what he was talking about. Did he hear his conversation with Jimmy?

'You hadn't eat your dinner, and you seemed to be angry with something.' He watched the new footman agape, surprised with his concern.

'So? What does it has anything to do with you?' Thomas snapped back with cold eyes, not get used to having attention, when he hadn't done anything wrong. He wasn't sure how to act, and if the man tried to be really nice, or was just searching for his blind-spot to use it later against him. Patrick was taken aback by his outburst and took a step back, but he quickly collected himself.

'I just thought you'd like to talk to someone or maybe need some help.' He explained, that charming smile dissolved from his face.

'And you thought I'd like to talk with a new footman?' He didn't intend to upset him, but he has just chosen the worst time he could to stick his nose into his business, and Thomas had to teach him where's his place.

'Sometimes it's easier to talk with someone we don't know.' He tried to get out from the oppression, his face was a mess of all emotions he was feeling.

'Sometimes it's wisely when you just mind your business!' Thomas bristled and gave him one of his venomous, snake-like, smiles. 'Fawning like a dog only works at Mr. Carson.' Patrick was in utter shock, his expression made him look like he just has been struck with something heavy.

'That wasn't my intention.' He stuttered, bewildered.

'Of course it wasn't.' His voice dripped with sarcasm, the coldness emanating from his eyes turned the blood in the footman's veins cold. 'Goodnight, Mr. Coleman.' Patrick said nothing, only, still in shock, walked away to his bedroom situated at the end of corridor. Thomas watched him go, until he felt someone's eyes at himself. He turned around only to see a black, small figure storming into its room, but he was quick enough to recognize it was Mr. Bagwell, wearing on his face the same look he had given Thomas during the supper. The under butler hadn't known what to think about him yet, except than finding him very handsome and quiet, but he knew he has to keep an eye at him. He'd better learns about his true intentions sooner, than being struck later from the unknown side.