Elsie had just ushered him into her sitting room, like she had on so many occasions lately. She had recently brought it upon herself to be his official keeper. She had always taken care of him, but it was somehow different now. He felt completely under her control, and he was enjoying every minute of it. She would place her hands on him now. Coax him gently at times, guide him, bend him to her will. He enjoyed it, it made him feel wanted, cared for, loved. She told him to sit down and she left to get tea. He waited anxiously for her return, knowing she would stay and join him for a cup, or two. Their evening chats seemed almost nightly now and he came to rely on them. She was different since her health scare. She was glowing and lighter, like a cloud had been lifted from over her head. In a way he supposed it had, and this new light that shone on her, she took as a second chance. She laughed more, teased more, flirted with with him on occasion. It unnerved him a bit and he usually ended up saying something completely stupid or insensitive, but he just wasn't sure how to handle this new thing between them.

She came back with the tea and he watched as she quickly prepared their cups. She made his just to his liking, she knew so much about him. Took the time and energy to do the little things that brought him joy and made his heart flutter. He would never let her catch on though. The years as butler had taught him to hide his emotions, God forbid the family catch you rolling your eyes or grunting in disapproval in the dining room. She handed him his cup and he took it from her, his large hands grazing her small, soft, delicate fingers and he suppressed a shudder. The slightest touch of her skin caused a tingle to shoot through his body. She is quite attractive tonight in her tan blouse and dark blue skirt that he can't help but notice clings to her round bottom. He wondered what she was wearing under that skirt, certainly she could not fit too many layers beneath the snug fitting. He felt his face turn red and realized he was staring at her bottom. She had looked over her shoulder to catch him, and smiled knowingly. He looked away and cleared his throat. "Young Lady Sybil was quite good company tonight while you were all out."

"I'm sure she was. She really is a darling baby. Looks so much like her mother." She replied, her voice soft and sentimental.

He will let her have this moment, let her speak of the young lady they were both so fond of. "That she is. Very easy to love, that one." He added, a slight smile on his face.

"Now who's the one getting sentimental, Mr. Carson?" Elsie teased him, but he saw she was uncomfortable, possibly even hurt by his condemnation earlier that evening.

"I do apologize about that Mrs. Hughes. I did not mean to sound harsh." He said with a slight frown. "I don't know why I said it. Most the time I do not know why I say half the things I do."

"Don't fret Mr. Carson, I am made of stern stuff." She is kind and attempts to relieve him of his guilt. She is the strong one, always has been. He gets so much of his strength from her. Relies on her too much. As much as he knows he is the head of this household, he knows who runs it. The woman who stood before him, slowly stirring her cup of strong tea and reaching for a tin of biscuits. She opened them and handed him three. They are his favorites. Again he feels guilt. He does not deserve such a sweet generous woman in his life. In so many ways she shows him her care and friendship, and what does he do for her in return? He butters her toast, serves her first at the table, brings her leftover wine... These things all seem so insignificant and not enough! He wants to do something for her, something that will show her just how important she is to him. How much he truly cares for her. But what? He would never be able to speak the words, was not allowed to hold her in his arms, could never press his lips to hers in thanks. No matter how badly he wanted to do these things. He often wondered if she ever thought the same. He thinks she does, thinks she might be receptive to the idea of them being more intimate. But he could not risk the chance that she would not be. He would never put himself out there like a lamb to the slaughter, because he knows he would certainly die if she were to reject him. He could not face another day here if she were to turn her nose at him, think him a hypocrite, an old fool. He shook the thoughts from his head when he noticed she was staring at him.

"Where did you go? I seem to have lost you for a moment." She said to him, raising her eyebrows and biting her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Hughes. I was just thinking of...well...I was...I just...I wanted to tell you how very important you are to me. How very much I value our friendship." He stumbled over the words. His nerves made him sound and feel like a bumbling idiot.

She reached across the table and gently placed her small hand over his large one. "Thank you for that, Charles. You are the best friend I've ever had."

He was finally able to breathe again when she spoke those sweet words to him. Best. Friend. Ever. He thought if he were to die tonight, he would go a happy man. They stayed like this, their two hands together and a knowing smile passing between them. Maybe they will move ahead, he thought. He would try. From now on he would make the effort. He would give more of himself. He would give more to her, his best friend.