I know I must look a bit Like a Carson/Mrs Hughes maniac at the minute but I just got my Downton boxset (!) and was almost shocked to fin that they aren't married, like I've made them in my other stories and wanted to right more for them as we see them in the series. This is set at some point in, around about half-way through, Series 1.

"Really?"

Daisy looked horrified.

"O' course," was Miss O'Brien's reply, "You let Mrs Hughes here you talking light that and, mark my words, she'll have the vicar round before you can say 'exorcist'."

Daisy's mouth hung open like a fish.

"Pay no attention to her, Daisy," Anna told her taking a chair at the table, "She's just trying to wind you up."

Gwen took the seat next to her.

"But why?" Daisy wanted to know of Miss O'Brien, seeming to have paid no attention to Anna whatever, "Why shouldn't we be allowed to have admirers?"

"Because Mrs Hughes thinks the stork brings you your husband," Gwen offered.

Miss O'Brien ignored this remark and leant against the the dresser. So did Daisy.

"Mr Carson isn't anywhere near as strict with Thomas and William as she is with us," she complained.

"Because she probably thinks that we're more vulnerable than men are," Miss O'Brien told her.

On this point, Anna thought, Daisy's confusion was almost understandable; it was hard to imagine a creature such as Miss O'Brien being particularly vulnerable to anything, let alone a man.

"Daisy!" the cry rang out around the kitchen, "What are you doing?- standing round here for a chat I suppose!"

Mrs Patmore emerged all guns blazing. Daisy opened her mouth in a wide-eyed attempt to explain herself but didn't manage to get any words out before Miss O'Brien cut across her.

"She were just asking me some questions, Mrs Patmore. About Mrs Hughes."

Predictably, this caused Mrs' Patmore's tune to change somewhat. Her air changed from that of antagonism to one more of interest.

"Oh yes?"

"Miss O'Brien was just telling Daisy about how Mrs Hughes with have her exorcised if there's any whiff of her having an admirer," Anna told her, hoping that the amusement did not show in her voice, not too much anyway.

Mrs Patmore raised an eyebrow.

"Was she now?" she asked, folding her arms, "Well, I've had my fair many quarrels with Elsie Hughes, but I'll say this for the woman: she's never yet tried to have me exorcised. First time for everything though," she added, casting a knowing gaze at Anna.

Daisy's expression was still one of the utmost horror.

"Who is this admirer you're all one about, anyway?" Gwen wanted to know.

At once, Daisy's face lit up.

"Thomas," she replied, her voice almost dreamy.

Mrs Patmore, Anna saw, threw an exasperated look in Miss O'Brien's direction, who returned one of flat wonderment. Gwen was confused:

"But isn't he...-?"

"Daisy!" Mrs Patmore interjected, "Those spuds won't peel themselves!"

Daisy, apparently reluctant to hear any criticism of Thomas or indeed of her regard for him, took the chance to avoid what Gwen had to say and leapt up. She scuttled off back towards the kitchen. Gwen, a frown across her features, turned first to Anna and then to Mrs Patmore.

"Isn't he...?"

The cook nodded grimly.

"He is," she confirmed, "But I'm damned if I can get the foolish girl to realise it!"

Anna laughed a little at the cook's frustration.

"I suppose if she really doesn't want to believe it, she just won't."

Mrs Patmore nodded again and said that was probably the case.

"What do you care about Daisy's romantic life when you've got Bates to cosy up to?"

Although it was not unlike Miss O'Brien to make remarks like that, its harshness still took Anna by surprise.

"What do you mean?"

Silly question, she thought immediately she had said it, it could not have been more apparent what Miss O'Brien had meant. Fortunately Gwen came to her rescue.

"Anna and Mr Bates are just friends," she told them, affronted on her friend's behalf.

There was little point in trying to make Sarah O'Brien believe something that she had already decided she didn't or didn't want to. Although she made no reply, that much was apparent.

"Has some kind of meeting, of which I am unaware, been recently called among the female staff?"

The four of them almost jumped out of their skins at the sound of Mrs Hughes' voice. Anna and Gwen immediately vacated their chairs at the appearance of their direct superior. Miss O'Brien seemed less concerned.

"We're entitled to our break, same as you, Mrs Hughes," she informed the housekeeper with an indifference that Anna both admired and resented.

"I," Mrs Hughes pointed out, "Have not been enjoying my break these last twenty minutes. Back to work all of you!"

Mrs Patmore, Anna noticed, had already slipped away. Unless she had a specific bone to pick with Mrs Hughes- which was, to be fair, quite often- she generally avoided the housekeeper's presence where possible.

"Anna," she called as the maids went to return to their work, "I'd like to see you after supper tonight in my sitting room."

Anna and Gwen exchanged glances as the housekeeper turned and left the servant's dining room. They both had an uncomfortable feeling that they knew exactly what Mrs Hughes wanted to talk to her about.

Anna thought it best to be on time and so went directly from supper to Mrs Hughes' sitting room. The housekeeper was already there; when she knocked with a tentative hand the call came bidding her to enter. Mrs Hughes was sitting at the desk an turned to see Anna come in.

"Anna," she began, "Sit down."

Anna sat, not saying anything; she was fairly sure that she would be shortly enlightened as to why she was there. She was right.

"Anna," Mrs Hughes sat with an unnaturally straight back, her hands folded demurely in her lap, "Certain worrying... circumstances have recently been brought to my attention.

She took a deep breath and seemed to be stirring herself. Anna remained silent. Mrs Hughes pressed on.

"Certain worrying circumstances," she iterated, "Regarding you, Anna. You and Mr Bates."

How much, Anna wondered, of that conversation did the wretched woman hear? She still said nothing. Mrs Hughes was looking at her not with the severity that she had expected; her expression held more concern.

"Anna," her voice was also softer than Anna had expected, "It was made quite plain to you when you first came here: gentleman callers and suitors of any kind are not permitted in the house. It is your choice whether or not you decide to meet a young man on your day off but I must remind you to respect the rules here- this is, after all, Lord Grantham's house."

Anna was examining her own hands.

"Anna?"

Reluctantly, she looked up but still did not meet the housekeeper's eyes.

"Anna, you're doing so well. It would be foolish to throw it all away now because of one man."

Anna nodded vaguely, to show that she was still- just- involved it the conversation and wonder if Mrs Hughes really did think the stork would bring her along a husband. She would, in fact, thank her lucky stars if the circumstances that she was hearing about had any real factual basis.

"I know, Anna," Mrs Hughes continued, "That you girls all think me a terrible tyrant when it comes to this kind of thing."

Heavens, Anna thought, she really must have heard the whole of that conversation.

"But I only have your best interests at heart. That and the the dignity of this household."

Shortly after, Anna was dismissed and told to go to bed.

Within ten minutes of sending Anna to bed, Elsie Hughes could not have felt more of a hypocrite if she had tried. She closed her eyes an waited: the clock had struck eight, it was a matter of seconds until he would be there. It was the awkward position she found herself in: she was expected to make sure that these girls conducted themselves with honour and dignity when men were concerned, which naturally meant setting a good example to them. Therein lay the problem: how was she supposed to set an example to them when she was- all things considered- the worst one of the lot?

She laughed to herself a little at that. At their age, it had never been like her to harbour ridiculous fancies for men, nor had it ever been. The circumstances now almost defied her character. It was certainly unlike her to break a rule: as she had reminded Anna, gentleman callers were not allowed. No- she was not breaking a rule; he was not that... but then what was he. She and Charles met each other most nights to discuss the business of the day, that was without counting the visits to the village when they invariably walked together, sitting together at most occasions and those incidents during the working day when they found themselves together and not exactly making haste to get away. Yes, Elsie thought, she was the worst one of the lot.

But then, they had started just as friends. They had to have done; if this had been going on for the near enough eleven years that she had known him she would have surely gone mad by now. Their innocuous meetings had been purely professional once upon a time. But it had started, longer ago now than she can remember: they would exchange a long look without realising or their hands would brush for longer than acceptable. She glanced at the clock, he was a few minutes later than usual. Unwilling to contemplate the idea that tonight might be one of those nights on which they did not meet, she waited impatiently but calmly- or at least with stillness.

She needn't, however, have worried. As usual he knocked at the door but entered without being asked. She tried to deny the flood of relief that filled her at the sound. Feeling the flush in her face, she waited a moment before turning to see him, hoping it would go.

"Are you all right?" he asked, looking at her with some concern.

Evidently, it hadn't.

"Perfectly," she told him, too quickly.

As he always did, he had waited for her invitation to be seated and settled himself in the armchair she pointed to.

"I saw Anna after dinner," he informed her.

"Oh?"

"The girl seemed a bit, well, put out."

"You wouldn't happen to know what the matter was?" he asked.

She felt the flush return to her face and tried not to grimace.

"I had to have a word with her," the feeling of hypocrisy was raging, "The girls in general have all been behaving rather flippantly lately."

"I hadn't noticed."

"With regard to young men," she explained.

"You mean gentleman callers."

She nodded uncomfortably.

"Well, I thought I'd better have a word with Anna. I overheard Miss O'Brien earlier...-"

"You do know that woman goes looking for trouble most of the time and it finds her itself the rest."

She nodded grimly.

"I know," she told him, "But I have to be seen to be doing something about it at least."

His face was understanding as he nodded.

"You do," he admitted, "It is a very awkward position to be in."

At that point she had to close her eyes, moving her hand to rest on her forehead and thus hide her face, so as to hide the effect that the deep rumble of his voice had on her. She knew he was looking at her and felt all the more uneasy for it. She felt her hand go clammy: it was ridiculous the effect that this man had on her. She tried to mentally douse herself in cold water, trying to think about anything, anything other than him. Him and her.

"Yes, Mr Carson,"she agreed inwardly reflecting that he probably didn't know the half of what he had just said, "A very awkward position indeed."

Originally this was just going to be a one-shot but I'm not sure now as I really enjoyed writing it, tell me if you want me to write more!