Their kiss was light, tender, despite of the reason of its beginning. Despite his hand still on her naked breast, despite the way she was flushed, despite of their ragged breaths - despite the implications of such a behaviour, their gestures were sweet, calm, almost reverent.

Her lips parted beneath his own, her flesh soft under his touch, everything was perfect, thought the Doctor, just as perfect as if they've never done anything else in the world than cuddle up one another. His mouth descended on her neck, slowly, briefly kissing every inch while her hands were strongly on his shoulders. The pressure of her fingers on him was quite innocent, save for the way it was useful for her to arch her body nearer to him. Dr. Clarkson thought he was a really lucky man if such a beautiful, strong, independent woman had turned to him when in need of... He stopped. In need of what, possibly? It was his fingers' turn to stop on her arms. "Wait," he whispered. She didn't seem surprised.

"Don't worry, Doctor. I do understand. I don't know how it happened, I shouldn't have..."
"No, wait, please," he told her, putting his thumb on her cheek like it was the most normal thing in the world. "I don't want you to go, believe me. Just..." He paused for a moment, trying to recollect the words. It was quite difficult, with her so close and so little clothed. He fought with himself to keep his eyes on hers. "Just tell me why. Why now? Why me?"

Elsie Hughes tried to smile boldly, but she failed. She was not a wanton woman, everybody knew that, and she was finding very hard the idea of speaking frankly about her feelings - even to a man who not only had visited and manipulated her breast but also kissed her like there was nothing more to do in the whole world. "Why not?" She asked instead, hoping he'd accept her point.

Apparently he did. "I won't say I don't like you, Mrs. Hughes. Quite the contrary, to be honest. I was... I am very fond of you. I do appreciate our chats, our time spent together during the war..." They both smiled, remembering that collaboration of them which probably made Downton see the end of the war without falling in pieces due to the continue fights between Lady Grantham and Mrs. Crawley. "So, as long as I like... better, I love, this...occupation..."

"I know. I'm sorry, I don't..."
"For Heaven's sake, let me finish!" he said, and there was a sort of laugh, in his voice, which made her stop her new flow of apologies. She lifted her eyes, softly chewing her bottom lip. "As I said, as long as I love our occupation in the last minutes, well... I'd like to do things properly, if you'll agree."

She was taken aback, her brows furrowed. "I don't understand."

"I'd like to court you, Mrs. Hughes. It seems I'm not exactly hideous to you..."
"...certainly you aren't!"
"I'm glad to hear it. So... Can I hope?"
"Are you really asking me my permission to court me? After the way I've acted this afternoon?"

He put both his hands on her waist, driving her nearer to him, and he lowered his mouth at the level of her ear before whispering, "Because of it, my darling woman. Because of it."