"Sarah."

She smiled uncertainly at him from the door. The intimate atmosphere of his bedroom was horrendously disconcerting.

"Does the master know you're here?"

She shook her head.

"No, but his mother does."

For all that she'd ever said about her, Mrs Crawley had been remarkably sympathetic and had allowed Sarah to see Molesley without too much persuasion. But then, Sarah reflected, she was probably more preoccupied with her son's impending departure.

"She promised not to tell Mrs Hughes," she added with another weak smile.

"That's good."

It seemed he couldn't think of anything else to say. So she was going to have to. The loudly ticking clock was remarkably distracting.

"Last week...I ...You...We seemed to..."

Tick, tick, tick.

"We seemed to..."

"Fall apart?"

She was glad that he met her halfway with that one.

"Yes."

Tick, tick, tick.

"I was probably..." admitting she was wrong was never something she could do very well, "I probably seemed like I didn't want... didn't want to..."

She didn't quite know how to finish it, he seemed to be scrutinising her carefully.

"Did you want to?" he asked.

She watched the floor as she nodded. There was a moment of stillness as the implication of what she meant sank into both of them. Almost numbly, she felt him rise from where he sat at the edge of the bed. And then:

"Oh, Sarah."

At his words they seemed to fall face first into each other's arms and held each other tightly, swaying back and forth.

It felt like an age until they moved a fraction apart, arms still holding on.

"I'm sorry," he told her, "I was too hasty. I assumed you didn't want me."

"I didn't, for a moment," she confessed, "But as soon as I was alone in my room I realised how wrong I was."

They held each other again. A clumsy attempt to sit down and they were lying beside each other on his bed. Realising how quickly their position had inadvertently accelerated, Sarah found herself blinking like a deer caught in a light. He realised too and cleared his throat.

"I didn't mean for... well, that is to say, at the moment I..." he seemed flustered at the intensity of the eyes next to him, "I... you will marry me, won't you?"

The question couldn't have surprised her more than if it had been proffered to her by Thomas dressed as a clown. However, her answer would certainly be a different one to him.

"Yes."

And he kissed her there and then, lying down on his bed.

End.

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