"Mrs. Patmore, what are you doing here?" Mrs. Bute wondered when she found the cook in the corridor. "I thought you'd gone with Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes for a tour of her new cottage."

"They've gone without me. An emergency came up here and I wasn't able to join them," Mrs. Patmore told her.

"An emergency?" Mrs. Bute was concerned. "Is everything all right?"

"Perfectly all right."

"What a shame that you'll miss out on seeing Mrs. Hughes's cottage."

Mrs. Patmore sighed and rolled her eyes. "You really weren't kidding when you said you weren't a plotter!"

"What do you mean?"

Mrs. Patmore indicated that they should go into the empty kitchen; Mrs. Bute followed her. "If you were a plotter you would have spotted a mile off that I never intended to go with them."

"Oh, I see," Mrs. Bute remarked. "You want them to be alone together."

"Not just alone together, but alone together in her cottage, which could be their cottage if he plays his cards right."

"It won't be hard for him to play his cards right, will it?"

Mrs. Patmore shook her head, impatient with her absent friend. "One question," she muttered. "He just has to ask her one bloody question and the whole matter will be settled."

"You're quite certain, aren't you?"

"Have you seen them together lately?" Mrs. Patmore scoffed. "If he asks, she will say yes. The only uncertainty will be how soon they marry."

"Do you think he'll ask today?"

"That's the big question. It's too bad it's up to the man to do the asking. Glaciers are fast compared to Mr. Carson when it comes to certain matters. That's why he needs my help. If this doesn't work, I might have to resort to more convoluted plotting."

Mrs. Bute chuckled. "I'll leave you to mastermind your next attempt, Mrs. Patmore."

#####

"It's a very fine day," Mr. Carson commented as he walked with Mrs. Hughes.

"Yes, I'm glad we chose today for this little outing."

"Or, rather, Mrs. Patmore chose it. It's a shame she couldn't join us." He was not actually sorry that the cook had been unable to come with them, but it seemed the right thing to say.

Mrs. Hughes had a strong suspicion that Mrs. Patmore had engineered this whole outing for the express purpose of sending her away from the house, alone with Mr. Carson, but she didn't mind. She would take any excuse she could find to be alone with him. "Yes, a shame," she agreed. "But she'll visit often, I'm sure. There will be many other opportunities for her to see it." They rounded a bend in the path. "There it is." Mrs. Hughes pointed out a snug little cottage with a nice garden off to the side. She unlocked the front door and they went inside.

"This is the parlor. It's quite a nice size, and her ladyship let me take that lovely settee."

Mr. Carson crossed the room to the piece of furniture in question and smiled. "I remember this settee. Years ago it was in the drawing room, but it was placed too near the window and the upholstery faded dreadfully."

Mrs. Hughes nodded. "It's certainly faded, but otherwise it is in good condition and very comfortable. Perhaps I'll make a cover for it."

"And you won't put it right by your window."

She chuckled. "Certainly not. I'm not sure I like where it's placed now, though. I think I may move it closer to the fireplace. But come see the kitchen next."

Mr. Carson followed her into the small, but cozy kitchen. "Your electric toaster is here already?" he asked, smiling. "I would have thought that would be one of the last things you would take with you."

"Very amusing, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Hughes remarked with a smile. "But I don't need it as long as I'm at the house. Mrs. Patmore still gives us toast every morning for breakfast. But once I'm living here I will be glad I bought it. It's so much easier to use the toaster than to make toast the old way."

Mr. Carson looked around the kitchen, taking in the furnishings and the curtains she had finished and hung in the windows. "What else can you show me?" he asked. Mrs. Hughes led him back into the parlor, where he noticed her knickknacks and keepsakes all over the place. She was really making this house into a home.

"There isn't much else to see," she told him. "I suppose I could show you the bathroom. It's quite modern."

"Lead on," he replied.

Mrs. Hughes led him up the stairs and opened the door to a tiny bathroom. "Not very large, but it is all I need." After they had peered through the door for a few moments, Mrs. Hughes closed it again. She gestured to three other doors upstairs. "The rest are just a closet and two bedrooms." She led the way back downstairs. "I feel rather decadent having two bedrooms, but it means I can have my sister or my nieces to visit anytime I like."

"That's excellent," Mr. Carson asserted. "I should like to meet your sister." He returned to the settee in the parlor. "Where is it you were thinking of moving this? Closer to the fireplace?" he asked.

Mrs. Hughes nodded. "Yes, about there," she pointed. "But I'll have to ask James and Mr. Molesley, or a couple of the hall boys, to come and move it. I'm afraid it's too heavy for me to move myself."

"What if I helped you? I don't think it's terribly heavy for two people."

"You may be right." Mrs. Hughes crossed the room to stand on the other end of the settee. "It doesn't need to be moved very far." Between the two of them they managed to shift it a short distance until it stood just where she wanted it. "Perfect!"

"Why don't you try it out?" Mr. Carson suggested.

Mrs. Hughes took a seat and sighed contentedly, then looked up at him. "You, too," she said, patting the seat next to her. The settee was only wide enough for two people, so when he sat, they were not very far apart. Mrs. Hughes was surveying her handiwork all around the room, but Mr. Carson couldn't look at anything but her. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement and her cheeks were flushed from exertion. When her eyes finally turned in his direction, she was surprised at how close he was. She couldn't think of anything to say.

"Hello," she murmured, still a little breathless.

"This is a lovely cottage, Mrs. Hughes," he told her. "I should love to live in a place like this."

"Oh?"

"Yes. In fact... I would very much like to live here with you, if you will have me."

Mrs. Hughes smiled brightly, her eyes shining. She was silent, however. She had a feeling Mr. Carson had more to say.

"It's been an unusual summer, hasn't it?"

"It has," she agreed.

"It's not every summer that I discover I'm in love."

"I should think not. You've never seemed a fickle man to me."

"I'm not," he asserted. "I will love you to the end of my days."

"Oh, my darling, I will love you forever," Mrs. Hughes confessed, embracing him with some force and clinging to him tightly, hands clasped behind his neck. Mr. Carson wound his arms around her waist and drew her closer.

"Will you marry me, my dearest love?" he murmured in her ear.

"Yes," she sighed. "Oh, yes."

"So many times I almost told you."

"So did I," she admitted. "I knew you wouldn't like the woman to speak first, but I almost did it anyway. Nearly every day."

Mr. Carson chuckled. "As long as you had left the marriage proposal to me, I don't think I would have minded."

Mrs. Hughes laughed and they both relaxed until they sat clasped loosely together, their foreheads touching.

"I'm glad you're going to come live with me," she told him.

"I am, too." Mr. Carson pulled his head back from hers so he could really look in her eyes. Then he leaned in and softly kissed the corner of her mouth before pressing his lips to hers, pulling her firmly against him once again. Mr. Carson had kissed a woman before, and Mrs. Hughes had kissed a man, but in so many other ways this was still a first kiss. He was her first love. She was his new beginning. Twenty-three years in, they each savored their first kiss of the twentieth century. And most importantly, it was the first of many kisses that they would surely share in the years to come. There had been a time for ambition and work, but this was the beginning of the time in their lives that would be devoted to loving one another.

To be continued...

At long last, eh? :-)

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