Elsie supposed she shouldn't have expected anything different, after all she had tried to keep it as secret as possible. Since the family was away and no cook was needed at the moment, the only person who had truly known what she was going through was gone. She couldn't very well hope to have anyone else remember what a special day this was for her when she'd done everything possible to keep everyone and especially someone from knowing what she was going through a year ago today. Someone had known, however, and she had hoped that someone would remember what a very special anniversary this day was for her and perhaps offer her at the very least a wee glass of sherry, or maybe a cup of tea, or even just a congratulatory smile. Instead, someone had avoided her all day and had gone into his pantry immediately following dinner, shutting the door behind him as a clear deterrent to all pleasant conversation.

Sighing, she finished her rounds through the women's hall and turned toward her room but hesitated. Sleep would be a long time coming tonight and just because no one else seemed to want to celebrate this day with her didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy a bit of sherry or even brandy on her own. She did have a bottle in her sitting room after all. Walking determinedly toward the stairs, she headed toward her sitting room and a large glass of brandy.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she spied a light on in the kitchen and her mood was just bad enough to give whichever hall boy she caught in there the scolding of his life. As she silently neared the kitchen, her heart jumped in her chest. She could hear the same low tones that she'd heard a year ago today…"Dashing away with a smoothing iron, she stole my heart away…" The words broke off abruptly with a growl and she heard someone speaking to himself, "Cream the butter and sugar? I didn't know that I needed cream. I thought she said everything I needed was right here. Where's the cream?"

She then heard the unmistakable sounds of someone rummaging around in the coldbox. Creeping cautiously toward the door to the kitchen, she caught her lower lip between her teeth and peered around the edge to get a good view of someone bent over, reaching for an item at the back of the coldbox. Someone grunted in satisfaction and stood. She pulled her head back quickly to avoid being seen and leaned her head beside the door so that she could listen and watch the rest of the scene unfolding before her.

"Twas on a Monday morning, when I beheld my darling…Ahhh, that must be right, let's see, now the flour, baking soda, and…salt? That's silly. Who'd put salt in a cake? She must've been trying to fool me. Well, I'll show her. She'll not trick Charles Edward Carson, butler of Downton Abbey, that easily. Humph."

Elsie had to bite her knuckle to keep from snorting. As housekeeper, she knew that she should probably step in at this point if for no other reason than to save the stores from imminent disaster, but part of her didn't trust herself to keep a straight face and the other part of her wanted to know what would happen next.

"She looked so neat and charming, in every high degree. She looked so neat and nimble… Fold in nuts. How does one fold nuts? This is the most asinine…"

At that point, Elsie could hold it in no longer and a choked laugh escaped. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Charles was already on alert and starting toward the door. Elsie gave up any attempt at stealth and stepped around the edge of the door, but the sight that greeted her made all decorum fly rapidly away. Charles Edward Carson, butler of Downton Abbey and the most distinguished man she knew, had his tie tucked in his shirt, his sleeves rolled up and flour all over his hands. She probably could have withstood that sight. With effort, she could have even avoided laughing at the white spot on the tip of his nose. Her undoing, however, was the apron with the blue flowers and frilly pink ruffle that he had tied around his waist. She doubled over in laughter and held onto the frame of the door to keep herself from actually dropping to the floor. After several moments, she heard him clear his throat loudly and looked up to see him with his hands on his hips and a deep frown on his face. After only one or two more chuckles, she finally was able to get herself under control and straightened, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"May I ask, Mrs. Hughes," he asked in his most severe butler voice, which was surprisingly effective considering that the ruffles on the apron shook as he spoke, "Exactly what you find so amusing? And why are you up at this hour? You should be in bed."

She snorted, "Just because you're dressed like my mother does not mean you may act like her, Mr. Carson."

His mouth gaped open and then shut quickly. Looking down at his attire, he blushed furiously red. He tried unsuccessfully to untie the apron strings before pushing it over his hips and down to the floor. She couldn't help noticing how his hips wriggled as extricated himself and blushed a little as well.

He spoke stiffly, "I am happy to have provided you with your evening's entertainment, Mrs. Hughes. Now if you will excuse me…."

"Mr. Carson," she cut him off in a soft voice, "What are you doing in the kitchen at this time of night?"

He blanched and looked back toward the counter. "Nothing. I was just hungry and I was making…."

She merely watched him levelly and his voice trailed off before he spoke again. He jutted his chin forward defiantly and said in a steady voice, "I am making a cake."

"And why would you be making a cake?"

He blushed and looked at the floor as though trying to find the answer there before looking up and fixing his gaze on a point just above and beyond her left shoulder. "Tomorrow," he broke off and pulled his watch from his pocket to look at it, "Or rather, today is a special day."

"How is it special?" she asked, holding her breath for the answer she hoped to hear.

His eyes moved from the point over her shoulder to meet hers tenderly. "It has been exactly one year that I have known you did not have ca…That you are completely well."

Her mouth went dry, and she took a step closer, "Why would that be important to you?"

He blinked rapidly a few times and then spoke so softly that she wouldn't have heard if he hadn't also leaned closer to her, "You stole my heart away."

His lips brushed gently against hers, but the kiss deepened when she took the opportunity to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer. In an instant his hands were on her waist, drawing her even closer while his lips moved over hers in ways that left her breathlessly wishing for more. After what seemed both a very long and a very short time, he pulled away and opened his eyes to look at her. He chuckled quietly and said, "You've flour on your cheek and nose now."

"It will wash," she answered, smiling up at him.

"Um, I suppose I should put my cake in the oven," he said after another moment of gazing into her eyes.

She shook her head almost violently, "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?" he asked, disappointment evident.

"Charles, one does not put cream in a cake and one does put salt in to help it rise."

"Oh," he said in surprise, and then his brows furrowed, "Just how long were you listening."

"Long enough to know that Mrs. Patmore's job is very safe," she answered, laughing.

He smiled ruefully, "That much is certain. But I did want to give you a treat."

"I will hold you to that," she said, giving him a wicked smile, "After we've cleaned the kitchen."

The kitchen was cleaned in record time.