When the train pulled up to the platform, Mrs. Hughes took something from her handbag and held it out to Mr. Carson.

"What's this?" He took the envelope from her.

"I was going to send a note back to you with James if he brought Isis to us," she answered. "Don't read it until you get back to London."

"Why not?"

"Just pretend James brought it to you. Open this little note when your train arrives in London and remember Yorkshire for a moment before you become butler again."

"Very well," he agreed, putting the note in his pocket.

"Goodbye, Mr. Carson."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Hughes." He boarded the third class compartment and within a few minutes was on his way back to London. Mr. Carson watched the country pass him by as the train took him away from her; he wondered when he would be back in Yorkshire again and his mind kept returning to her note in his pocket. He had agreed not to read it until he reached London and he had meant what he said, but in the end he did not keep his promise. He had been on the train for only half an hour when he convinced himself that it would be better to read it now, so if it made him smile foolishly the way her letters sometimes did, he would have some recovery time before he 'became butler again,' as Mrs. Hughes had put it. He carefully opened the envelope and read her short note.

Mr. Carson,

I enjoyed our tea and our visit to Westminster Abbey. Bring our family back home to Downton soon.

EH

For a single mad moment, Mr. Carson considered getting off the train at the next stop and taking the first one he could find back to Downton. Fortunately this thought was banished in the next moment, but in the moment after that he was struck with confusion. He looked at the note in his hand and wondered at the rash and impulsive thought, so very unlike him. A heavy truth was dawning on him as fields and woods and streams flew by the window of his compartment. He wanted to resist it, to hold it back, though he wasn't sure why. Mr. Carson had a sudden vision of himself as Sisyphus, propelling that enormous stone to the top of a hill, only to have it roll down to the bottom as soon as he let it go. He realized that no matter how many times he pushed this particular boulder up the hill, it would always return to him. Mr. Carson knew he was no Sisyphus; he could see that he was beaten and would not keep at it any longer. He loved Mrs. Hughes, and there was no denying, ignoring, or avoiding it. He could only now see the inevitability of it as he never had before. What would he do now? He wasn't sure. The only thing he was certain of was that he was glad this revelation had occurred after he had left Downton. He wouldn't have known how to behave around her, but at the same time he would also have wanted to stay and never leave her, not even for a few more weeks to finish out the Season and close up Grantham House. Even now, Mr. Carson wasn't sure how he would manage these next few weeks.

Although he closed his eyes, Mr. Carson did not sleep. Instead, his mind ran over everything that had happened since that day at the beach. It all made sense to him now - his foul humor over that terrible letter, his odd feelings of being unsettled and not quite himself, his impatience to read and reply to her every letter as soon as possible, and even his inappropriate thoughts about her ankles. He couldn't say he was very comfortable with all of this, but at least there was some reason for it all. There had been moments in the past few weeks when he wondered if he were going very slowly mad. Now Mr. Carson was only astonished that he had not perceived it sooner. He had been in love once before; he ought to have recognized the signs. But that was a long time ago, he supposed, and a young man in love was an altogether different creature from an old man in love. Not only that, but Elsie Hughes was so very different from Alice Neal. Alice had been a pretty girl with a sweet and gentle manner that appealed to his protective nature. Elsie was more his equal, and more than equipped for the task of protecting herself, but she appealed to his masculinity in different ways. He still wanted to protect her from hurt and harm, but her irrepressible spirit was a marvel to him, even as it sometimes baffled and even frustrated him. It also made her incredibly attractive to him, and he felt freed from a restrictive bond when he allowed himself to admit how lovely he found her.

At last Mr. Carson did fall asleep, and his dreams were full of images of the past few weeks. Afternoon post, Mr. Carson… Westminster Abbey… retirement… our downstairs family… if you need to feel steady… What he saw most often in these dreams, however, was her beautiful, smiling face as she had greeted him in his pantry earlier today.

#####

Mrs. Hughes would have taken her time making her way back from the station had she the leisure to do so, but she was due back for the staff dinner soon so she walked briskly. The pain of his departure had not yet taken precedence in her heart over the exhilaration of his sudden and unexpected appearance at Downton Abbey. She would probably miss him even more now than she had before this short visit, but right now she was trying to burn the memory of this afternoon into her mind, especially the sound of his rumbling voice as they chatted over tea and as he told her about the beauties of Westminster Abbey. Mr. Carson had not glanced at her often as they walked side-by-side across the lawn, which had given her the opportunity to observe him unnoticed. Mrs. Hughes loved to hear him speak, of course, but to look as well as listen was an even greater pleasure. A gentle smile graced his lips and his eyes were lively as he told her all about Westminster Abbey and the Lady Chapel; she had never seen him more handsome. And when he turned his eyes in her direction, she could hardly breathe. Mrs. Hughes had loved him for some time, it was true, but today she felt like she had been transported back to the beginning, and all the symptoms of new love were upon her again. Her legs felt weak, her hands trembled, she was breathless, and her heart raced. She wondered how she would get through dinner. She didn't even want to think about how she would get through the rest of the Season.

#####

Mrs. Patmore abandoned her work in the kitchen when she saw Mrs. Bute passing by, hurrying to catch the housekeeper. "Good work, Mrs. Bute," she whispered.

Mrs. Bute stopped and smiled slightly. "Thank you for your advice."

"Of course. How did it all go?"

"I was sure I would say something wrong when I spoke to his lordship, but he didn't seem suspicious at all. I told him it was critical that I have James's help today, and asked if he might not send Mr. Carson instead."

Mrs. Patmore was grinning. "And did you keep James busy today?"

"I most certainly did," Mrs. Bute answered with satisfaction. "I had a great many things carried from one place to another."

"What about the telephone call?"

"I did just as you said, although I don't understand why. Where is the help in not telephoning Mrs. Hughes to tell her that Mr. Carson was on his way to Downton? Suppose she was too busy to see him today?"

"It was to his advantage to take her by surprise, even if he didn't know he was doing it. If you'd telephoned, she'd have had time to calm herself and avoid showing just how happy she was to see him."

"And you're sure she'd be that happy to see him?"

Mrs. Patmore laughed out loud. "Oh, yes. Quite sure. Now we've only to wait and see in what state he returns to Grantham House this evening."

Mrs. Bute eyed the cook suspiciously. "Have you done this before, Mrs. Patmore?"

"Perhaps," she answered cryptically.

The housekeeper shook her head. "I only hope I did right. I suppose there's nothing for it but to wait and see."

"But don't you worry. Between the two of us I'm sure we'll be able to tell how his little jaunt to the country went." Mrs. Patmore went back to the kitchen, leaving her companion to her thoughts.

What's done is done, Mrs. Bute told herself before moving on.

To be continued...

a/n: I meant to mention this in the last chapter, but you should do a google image search for "westminster abbey lady chapel" for some pictures of the amazing ceiling Mr. Carson talks about to Mrs. Hughes. I used Westminster Abbey's own website for the facts he related to her during their walk.

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