Mr. Carson carefully extracted two champagne flutes before taking the champagne bottle out. He nudged the cabinet closed with his shoulder, set the glasses on his desk, and skillfully opened the bottle before pouring two glasses and handing one to Mrs. Hughes. There were only two chairs in his office - the one she was sitting in, and the one behind his desk, which he pulled across the floor to face her.

"A toast, Mr. Carson?"

"You will laugh, but my toast is 'To Downton'," he answered, sitting down. "I wish you well there for the rest of the Season, and I look forward to returning. I hope I will be able to come back a day early, as I've done in the past, but I'm not sure it will be possible."

"Very well," Mrs. Hughes agreed with a smile. "To Downton." She raised her glass and then drank. Mr. Carson repeated her toast and did the same.

"Mrs. Hughes, I've been thinking about a change in the arrangements for Downton when you return tomorrow."

Mrs. Hughes raised her eyebrows. "Oh? What change?"

"You're to take Mr. Barrow with you, but I thought perhaps you would prefer to take Mr. Molesley instead. I'd like to extend Mr. Barrow's training in a butler's duties. Mr. Molesley has been a butler before, so I think he is an appropriate substitute, if you agree."

"Agree!" Mrs. Hughes exclaimed. "It's a marvelous plan! I think I have underestimated his value in the past, but James has made me appreciate Mr. Molesley more than I did. He is sometimes distracted, but he is not as lazy as James. And your keeping Mr. Barrow here will mean I don't have to deal with the man all on my own. I am sorry it means you will have him here, but I truly appreciate your sacrifice." She grinned.

"Did he give you trouble when he was at Downton before you came here?" Mr. Carson frowned.

"Not me directly. But from what Ivy told me earlier today, I find he's been impertinent to Tom Branson and is unhappy that he has to serve him."

Mr. Carson's brow looked even more thunderous than before. "Tell me what he's done, Mrs. Hughes. I need to know if one of my subordinates is not behaving as he should."

Mrs. Hughes took a sip of her champagne before she spoke. "He seems to think that in the 'natural order of things,' as he put it, he would be above Mr. Branson, as chauffeur, but now he has to call him 'Sir,' which vexes him to no end."

"I wonder why he thinks Mr. Branson would have still been the chauffeur so many years later, in this 'natural order of things' that he imagines," Mr. Carson scoffed. "A few years ago Mr. Barrow was a footman and now he's under butler. Why shouldn't Mr. Branson move up in the world as well? He's been a journalist and now manages the estate."

"That's an excellent point. I'm very glad to hear that your opinion of Mr. Branson seems to have improved a bit," she teased. "The other offense was reported to me by Ivy as well. I think it's worse than his complaints in the kitchen."

"Oh?"

"When he and Ivy and Mr. Branson were taking the car to the station for the journey to London, he claimed that with Ivy carrying a basket of kitchen things there wouldn't be room for both of them in the front and wanted to sit in the back with Mr. Branson."

"What?!" Mr. Carson growled.

"Mr. Branson asked Mr. Barrow if he would ask the same thing of his lordship and Mr. Barrow said that he doubted that they would be in the same car. Mr. Branson persisted with his question, but Ivy thankfully broke in, suggesting that her basket be strapped to the back of the car."

"Well done, Ivy," Mr. Carson commented. "I can't believe his cheek and impertinence! Mr. Barrow will certainly hear about this from me."

"He will suspect Mr. Branson to be the informant," Mrs. Hughes warned.

"He can suspect all he likes," Mr. Carson fumed. "I wouldn't like him to persecute Ivy when she did right by telling you. And if I keep Mr. Barrow here, he will not have the opportunity to do so, nor will he be able to attempt revenge on Mr. Branson, who will be returning to Downton tomorrow. I'll wait until you all are safely off before I speak of it to Mr. Barrow."

Mrs. Hughes nodded. "Excellent. Now could we change the subject? I am sick of Mr. Barrow and would prefer talking about something else now."

Mr. Carson's stern expression immediately changed to a smile and he chuckled. "I am sick of Mr. Barrow, as well. I wish there were some way to be rid of him. But what would you like to discuss? Your wish is my command." He nodded to Mrs. Hughes.

"Mrs. Patmore's supper was very good," she remarked, unable to think of anything more interesting and more than a little unbalanced by his easy manner. "Simple fare, but excellent all the same."

"Indeed," Mr. Carson agreed. "Bread and cheese is one of my favorite snacks, though very simple."

"Yes, a perfect meal for a tired staff. I don't envy the ladies' maids and Mr. Bates, having to stay up until the family return."

"You are almost always up just as late, Mrs. Hughes," Mr. Carson replied. "Usually longer."

She sighed. "Yes, and so are you."

Now it was his turn to sigh. "That is true."

Mrs. Hughes smiled. "Are you thinking of retirement now, Mr. Carson?" she asked. "Because I don't mind saying that I am. I'd love to go up to my bed right now and pull the blanket over my shoulders and go to sleep, without a care about what goes on in the house. I am quite tired. I think I would fall asleep in seconds."

Mr. Carson was a little disconcerted by her talk of her bed and blanket. Images jumped to his mind of Mrs. Hughes in her tiny bed, the sheet and blanket pulled up to her neck. It was nothing risqué, but he was thinking of her in her bed, nonetheless, which made him uncomfortable. He had never given a thought to her bed, even though she had mentioned it before, under similarly innocent circumstances. He took a sip of his champagne and studied Mrs. Hughes as she patiently awaited his answer. She probably thought he was considering her question, but really he was considering her. She was still wearing the blue blouse and grey skirt she had worn on the beach. He didn't dare look down to see if she wore her stockings, but she had naturally taken off the little straw hat with flowers on it. He remembered her in the sun and how her ensemble seemed to match the scene. Blue like her eyes and the sea and the sky and the stripes on his own shirt, grey like his suit, yellow like the sand and the sun.

Mr. Carson cleared his throat and tried to answer her question. "I'm not sure. Sometimes, after a long and particularly tiring day, I think it would be nice. Other times I think I would not know what to do with myself in retirement. I don't know if I could ever wake up at any other time than I do now. It might not actually be possible." He chuckled at himself.

"Oh, I suspect it's possible, Mr. Carson, though it might take some time to get out of your routine," Mrs. Hughes replied.

"But are you really thinking of retirement?" he asked uncertainly.

"Only in a general sense," she answered. "I don't have any immediate intention to leave Downton, but I know someday I will be ready to hand my keys over to someone younger and more sprightly."

"Well, I'd say most of the time you are the very definition of sprightliness, Mrs. Hughes, so I think it may be a long time yet before you hand over those keys," he answered seriously.

"Thank you, Mr. Carson. That's quite a compliment."

"Nothing but the truth, Mrs. Hughes," he told her with a smile. He lifted his glass to her and finished his champagne.

Her glass was already empty. She did not want to go, but the empty glass told her she must. "Well, I must be going. I've work to do to prepare for Mrs. Bute's return. If you need anything, I will be in her office." Mrs. Hughes rose from her chair and made her way to the door.

"Wait." Mr. Carson stopped her. "What about that 'proper farewell,' Mrs. Hughes?"

She smiled. "You're right. I almost forgot." She approached him and held out her hand. He took it immediately. Mrs. Hughes thought that he would release her quickly, but he turned the back of her hand upwards and stroked it gently a few times with his thumb. She was so surprised she could barely breathe.

"Farewell, Mrs. Hughes," Mr. Carson bade her seriously. "Travel safely. I will see you again at Downton." He placed his other hand on top of hers and patted it softly before letting her go.

She gave a little nod and a smile. "And you as well, when you board the train later this summer." Mrs. Hughes turned and left the room.

To be continued…

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