Epilogue, as requested. Only read if you're interested in Carson/Hughes; otherwise it's likely to repulse you.

"So, Charles, I hear you're in love with me."

What felt like a lifetime passed by in the beat of silence that followed. People in service as a rule don't do forwardness as a rule, and when they do it generally does not go well. But there are occasionally, very occasionally, exceptions and that was what, Elsie supposed, gave Charles the courage to open his mouth even after she had flung the statement so accusingly upon him. She hadn't meant to but apparently had managed admirably. She made a mental vow never to be unduly forward again.

"Do you?" he asked cautiously.

Her mouth had gone suddenly dry; all she could manage was a curt nod. He seemed to swallow at the same time as she did.

"Who from?" he asked, either an air of curiosity or a lack of something sensible to say prevailing. Or both.

Heavens, Elsie, just answer the question! Her brain was in a state of collapse.

"Actually it was her Ladyship," she tried to state it as if it wasn't absurd, but it was.

Evidently, he realised as much, his eyebrows raised alarmingly. She was seized by the urge to hide herself behind the curtain she was standing beside and to not re-emerge for at least a week.

"Her Ladyship?" he repeated, his surprise evident, "How did that even come up?"

Granted, that wasn't what she'd expected him to say. It wasn't the first objection to the situation she'd have expected him to have. She racked her jelly brain to recall what had been said that morning in the drawing room. Once she had remembered, she wondered how best to tell him without giving him a heart attack.

"Erm..." she began uneasily, "His Lordship wanted you to... that is, he suggested that you marry Miss O'Brien."

It was a credit to him, she thought, that he managed to prevent his jaw from dropping a good inch. Instead his eyebrows were given further exercise. The true absurdity of the idea sank in and she couldn't help but giggle at it; earning herself a stern look.

"Sorry," she apologised, trying not to let out another hoot, "But," she considered breaking her vow of abstaining from forwardness, "But the funniest thing is I think you would have, if her Ladyship hadn't told his Lordship that he was being ridiculous."

"Do you?" he asked, seeming to be just as surprised by that suggestion as any other that had been recently proffered.

Well, this was where forwardness got you, she thought, and there was no backing out of it now. She took a deep breath.

"I certainly think you'd consider it," she told him honestly, "If your employer asked you to. Because you feel it's your duty to them. Though in this instance I can hardly say I agree."

Yes, Elsie, the voice in her head congratulated her, I can safely say that you've probably gone a little bit too far this time.

"I don't."

His voice was quiet but deep and firm. She wanted to say that she was glad but didn't; waiting for him to go on.

"I'm sorry to hear that you think I'd go as far as to marry someone just because his Lordship told me to, Elise, I'd have thought you knew me better than that."

She gulped to herself.

"I know," he bowed his head slightly, "I don't show my feelings often, but that doesn't mean that they don't exist. Because they do, Elsie."

If he was waiting for her to say something, he was going to be waiting for a long time; she didn't think she knew where her voice had suddenly gone. Thankfully, he seemed to get the message.

"And I couldn't, however much I tried, put them aside enough to even consider marrying Miss O'Brien. They're too strong for that."

"I'm glad," her voice returned miraculously, stronger than she felt, "I'm glad they are. Because if so, then you can't object to answering me: do you love me?"

He didn't say anything, the movement of his head was ample answer. When she eventually found herself being pushed into the curtain it was by him. Kissing her.

Yes, it's soppy, but for some unbeknown reason, I'm being soppy this evening. And ridiculous too, probably, as I usually get while writing Carson/Hughes.