Dear Mr. Carson,

Our friendship has survived much worse over the years than any of the disagreements we've had this summer. For better or worse, I will always be your friend. Please remember that. I will happily welcome you into my home at any time, and I hope that you might be my first visitor.

Sincerely yours,

E. Hughes

Mr. Carson found the note after breakfast. It was only a few sentences long, but it took his breath away, and he read it several times over before putting it in his pocket. He found himself pulling it out and rereading it throughout the day when he had a free moment, and by the time he met Mrs. Hughes that evening for a glass of wine in his pantry, he could have recited it from memory. In particular, his mind seemed drawn to that second sentence. For better or worse, I will always be your friend. He was happy to have her assurance that she would always be his friend, but the way she stated it drove him into a state of mad speculation. For better or worse. Surely Mrs. Hughes was far too intelligent to write such a thing without thinking of what the phrase could imply. Or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

Mr. Carson remembered now that journey he had made by train from Downton to London after he had brought Isis to the country. He had looked at his own odd behavior over the summer and seen that it was all caused by his being in love, rather than his being mad. Today, however, Mr. Carson was beginning to believe that he was in love and mad.

"Thank you for your letter, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Hughes commented as they sat down with their glasses.

"You're welcome," he responded. "And thank you for your reply."

She nodded, but looked pensive, even worried.

Mr. Carson frowned. "What is it?" he asked.

"There's something making me uneasy."

"Can I help?" he wanted to know.

"Perhaps you can, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Hughes replied. "I know that most housekeepers, and most butlers, do not retire at such an early age as mine. Some do not retire at all, but work right up until the day they die."

"That is true," Mr. Carson agreed, wondering what she was getting at.

"I wonder if the family will be dissatisfied with my wish to retire before I am too old to enjoy myself. There has been occasional mention over the years of a cottage on the estate, but they have no obligation to take care of me. I am still capable of doing my job. Perhaps they will think me ungrateful and or that I am taking advantage and let me go my own way. What do you say, Mr. Carson?"

"I say you have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Hughes. If his lordship or her ladyship mentioned even once the intention of providing you with your own home, neither will go back on such a promise. And far from thinking you ungrateful, I can assure that they both hold you in high respect and esteem."

Mrs. Hughes was calmed by his reassurances, and smiled. "I suppose I must believe you, since I know if you allowed yourself to influence me falsely, it would be in the opposite direction."

"Mrs. Hughes, I've told you that-"

"Yes, I know. You are an honest man, and I am only teasing. I'm afraid I just can't help myself sometimes. I am sorry."

Mr. Carson relaxed and smiled. "I don't mind. And I have something to tell you that will prove that I am taking your retirement plans seriously."

Her interest was piqued. "Oh? And what is that?"

"I've had a thought about who we might bring in as housekeeper once you've gone," he told her.

"Ah, yes, my replacement! Who do you have in mind?"

Mr. Carson gave her a little smile. "She'll never replace you, Mrs. Hughes-"

Mrs. Hughes laughed. "You are determined on flattery in that quarter, aren't you?"

He gave her a mischievous smile, but didn't answer. "I was thinking that Mrs. Bute might be a good candidate. She knows the family and some of the staff already, so she would just need training on managing a larger house."

"That's a very good idea."

"Once you have spoken to her ladyship about your plans, I will make that recommendation so that she may write to Mrs. Bute with the offer before you have left us. I think it will benefit us all if you can provide at least some of her training."

"Of course," Mrs. Hughes agreed. "But will she be able to get away immediately? Has she another post she would have to abandon?"

"I know she'll come," Mr. Carson told her. "Off-season work is hard to find. A position like yours is what she seeks, but the competition is fierce when one comes available. She has to take short-term jobs as a housekeeper or lady's maid when Grantham House is closed."

Mrs. Hughes nodded. "You speak well of Mrs. Bute, so she seems like an ideal candidate. And I would feel more comfortable knowing I am not leaving the house in the hands of a complete stranger."

"She'll never be as good as you, of course. No one could. You're not replaceable."

Mrs. Hughes blushed. "Mr. Carson, I really must ask you to stop spouting this nonsense."

He looked at her, his expression solemn. "I am happy for you, Mrs. Hughes, if this is what you want, but I truly will miss you. Oh, I know, I will still see you, but it won't be the same. Even you can't deny that."

"No, I can't, nor can I deny that I will miss you as well," she admitted, returning his serious gaze.

"I may have to consider retirement myself," Mr. Carson remarked with a sad smile.

Mrs. Hughes was greatly affected by this comment, but tried to make light of it to cover her emotion. "I have a feeling you may consider it, but discard the notion entirely after a little thought. Still, I feel quite special that I could talk you into pondering retirement at all."

"You should feel special," he said vehemently. "Mrs. Hughes, I..."

Mrs. Hughes sat frozen in her chair, pinned in place by Mr. Carson's eyes and words. What does he mean to say? She wanted to encourage him to continue, but speech seemed out of her power in that moment, so she waited, smiling warmly at him.

"Mrs. Hughes, I... I'm very tired. Shall we go up?"

Mrs. Hughes found her breath again and agreed with him. "Yes, of course. It's very late." She rose from her chair and left, wishing him good night on the way out.

Mr. Carson was left alone in his pantry again. This was not a moment for a letter. What he wanted to say to her - no, what he would say to her - demanded to be said in person. He had not known until just a few moments ago that he was determined to tell her everything, to offer her his hand and heart. Whatever the outcome, Mr. Carson was no longer afraid. Mrs. Hughes seemed receptive to him, perhaps more than receptive, but he was certain that even if she refused him, he would not lose her friendship. For better or worse, she had said. Now his choice was very clear. Should he wait for her to retire or throw caution to the wind and declare himself as soon as possible? His heart did not want to wait. If he had listened only to that part of himself, he would have gone to her in her room that very moment and begged her to be his. Fortunately, he knew that she would probably think he had lost his mind if he followed that impulse, and decided against such an improper and unspeakably disrespectful course of action. If he did feel he must speak as soon as possible, he could wait until tomorrow, when he could find time alone with her. When the immediate impulse to follow her upstairs passed, he began to think it would be better to wait a little, to be sure he chose just the right moment.

#####

Mrs. Hughes told Lady Grantham the next morning of her plans to retire and, as Mr. Carson had assured her, she was immediately offered a cottage on the estate. Once this had been done, and the announcement made to the staff, Mr. Carson went to the countess with his recommendation of Mrs. Bute as a candidate for the position Mrs. Hughes would be vacating. Lady Grantham was thrilled with the suggestion and after consulting with Lord Grantham, she immediately wrote to Mrs. Bute to invite her to Downton. It would mean finding a new housekeeper for Grantham House for next Season, but there would be plenty of time for that. Selecting a woman for that job would not be as difficult as finding a new housekeeper for Downton Abbey.

"It's been a whirlwind of a day!" Mrs. Hughes mused, sitting down with her glass of sherry.

"It certainly has," Mr. Carson agreed. "How are you? Happy?"

She smiled brightly. "I am, Mr. Carson. You were absolutely right about the family's reaction and I'm glad. And thankful."

"Now you've only to organize your new cottage and train Mrs. Bute."

"Only, Mr. Carson? Those are both quite formidable tasks, although I don't think either of them will be disagreeable. Merely a lot of work."

"Well, be sure to ask me if there is anything I can do to help," Mr. Carson told her. "And remember that once Mrs. Bute has been here for a short time, she may actually lighten your load."

"That's true." Mrs. Hughes looked thoughtful. "I hadn't thought of that." She looked up from her sherry at Mr. Carson. "Mr. Carson, it will be a little while before I'm gone, but I want you to know how much your friendship means to me, and that I have especially appreciated your kindness this summer."

"Have I never been kind before this summer?" Mr. Carson's attempt at a jest fell flat.

"Of course you have," she told him. "But something has been different about this summer. We speak to each other differently than we used to."

He nodded. "Yes, you're right. Things have been different. I am glad it makes you happy, Mrs. Hughes, if I understand you correctly."

She smiled fondly. "Yes, very happy."

"It makes me happy, too. It made me nervous at first - you know how I hate change - but no longer."

"No?" She scrutinized his face curiously.

He shook his head. "No."

To be continued...

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