Here it is, the final chapter. Please keep in mind that this was written before the CS aired. So the plot is quite different.

Thank you kouw, you are the absolute best! And thank you everyone for your lovely reviews – especially the guest reviewers, whom I couldn't thank via pm.

A week later, a glorious late September day invited the servants to take a walk home after church. With the exception of Mrs. Patmore and Daisy, who had to go ahead and prepare the family's lunch, and Mr. Bates and Anna, all servants declined a ride on the wagonette and instead made their way back to the Abbey on foot.

The Housekeeper and the Butler made up the rear of the lively group, walking side by side as was their custom.

Mrs. Hughes took a deep breath and enjoyed the crisp air filling her lungs. Lifting her head slightly, she allowed a few rays of sunshine to warm her face. When she looked ahead again, her eyes fell on Miss Baxter and Mr. Molesley. The couple walked with appropriate distance between them but the gentle smiles she caught when they turned their heads to talk to each other spoke volumes to the Housekeeper. She wasn't worried about their conduct. They were both faithful and good servants, upstanding people. If anything ever came of their closeness in the distant future, it would be done in a proper manner.

Her gaze then settled on Mr. Barrow who walked with the new footman, Andrew. Mr. Barrow had softened considerably in recent months – ever since his surprising half day with Miss Baxter. She wasn't sure what had transpired then but she didn't care. Whatever the Lady's Maid had done, it seemed to have helped. While Thomas still sported the occasional sneer and his tongue was as sharp as ever, he held back when things mattered. She hadn't caught one unkind word from him towards Anna since the young woman's return.

She thought back to Anna and how she was slowly starting to return to her normal self. Elsie Hughes was well aware that the young woman would never again be as carefree as she had been before the attack, but there were little moments that allowed for hope. A little peal of laughter escaping the Lady's Maid as she listened to one of Mr. Molesley's stories, tentative hand-holding with Mr. Bates, an afternoon spent drinking tea in the Housekeeper's parlour discussing everything and nothing (without shadows lurking beneath the surface).

Lost in thought, she didn't pay attention to the road and her foot suddenly caught in a small pothole washed out from weeks of rain. She stumbled slightly but before she had the chance to right herself, a strong arm caught her elbow and pulled her upright. A second arm came up to her other side and steadied her.

She gave a little, embarrassed chuckle as Mr. Carson's hands fell away again. "Thank you for catching me, Mr. Carson." She was busy righting her clothing and it took her a moment before she looked up into the Butler's eyes. The intense look she found there wiped the small smile off her face and caused her breath to hitch.

"I'll always be there to catch you, Mrs. Hughes," he rumbled softly but decisively.

It felt as if they were suspended in time as she drowned in the gentle warmth of his eyes.

She realized that he was speaking the truth. Had first realized it sometime during her talk with Anna. All his small attempts at providing assistance, his gentle reminder that he was on her side. Catching her when she had stumbled.

He had always been there – maybe not able to openly express his reasons for his support, but supported her he had. Just like Mrs. Patmore had done. Maybe she'd do well to remember her own advice to Anna and appreciated how much support she really had in her life – if she allowed it.

The moment was broken when a round of boisterous laughter broke out among the servants in front of them. Mr. Carson cleared his throat and took a step back.

"We should walk on," he said quietly and she nodded. To her surprise he suddenly held his arm out to her. "I wouldn't want you to stumble again."

She hesitantly allowed her hand to rest in the crook of his elbow. She was relieved to notice that he didn't tense at her touch, that he even seemed to draw her a little closer to his side.

They walked in silence for a few moments before Mr. Carson spoke again. "I've been meaning to tell you. I've had a phone call from Mr. Thompson earlier."

"On a Sunday morning?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes, he called on a matter of urgency. Do you remember his little cottage?"

Of course she did. They had looked at it briefly upon their return from London. It was a lovely little cottage, ideal for a couple, maybe even a small family. Ivy covering parts of its façade, it had looked like one of the cottages in a child's fairytale book.

The viewing had been different to that of other properties because Mr. Thompson already had a tenant living there. The owner had made it clear that this tenant, an elderly gentleman who had been absent during the viewing, should be allowed to stay after the sale.

It had offered a different impression to see the cottage furnished, had made it easier to imagine it as a home. (Although, the arrangement of the living-room had been all wrong. There should have been a carpet in there, an old, leather armchair standing in front of the stone fireplace. A lovely rose-coloured settee on which she could do her darning next to it. Pictures of Scottish scenery should have lined the walls)

Still, she had liked it – immensely.

However, Mr. Thompson had been urging towards a quick sale and with her thoughts occupied by Anna, she hadn't felt able to make the decision. Mr. Thompson had found another buyer and she had forgotten all about the charming, little building.

"It seems his buyer withdrew at the last moment. Mr. Thompson is now quite desperate to sell. Apparently he is planning to move to America where his two children have settled. He is willing to lower his price," Mr. Carson finished his account of the phone call.

"We shouldn't profit from the man's desperation," she replied firmly. "What about the tenant?"

"A Mr. Wilkinson. According to Mr. Thompson he is a very reliable. His lease is up in two years and apparently he isn't planning on extending it."

"Two years isn't very long," Mrs. Hughes mused. She looked up to the Butler to see what he thought. A small frown marred Mr. Carson's forehead as he stared into the distance.

"I had actually thought that two years sounded perfect," he replied hesitantly.

She stopped moving, causing him to stop as well. She quickly glanced at the other servants but they hadn't noticed anything and continued walking.

"Perfect for what, Mr. Carson?" she asked softly, waited with bated breath until he finally looked at her.

"It would be the perfect time to retire. To live a little as you called it," he said quietly, looking her directly in the eyes as he said it.

She continued looking at him silently for a few moments. Then she nodded, tugging at his arm as she resumed walking. "I think you are right. So should we call him later and finalize the arrangement?"

"We should," he confirmed, relief evident in his voice.

They walked a few yards, her hand still tucked in his elbow, when he began speaking again.

"We would be married of course."

"Of course."

"And we would be very happy," he declared firmly.

"Naturally," she replied, amusement colouring her voice.

His hand came up to squeeze hers where it rested in the crook of his arm. She looked up at the unexpected touch and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep tears from welling up at the look of pure adoration in his eyes.

"Marrying you would make me very happy," he confessed quietly.

She squeezed his arm affectionately. "I'm glad, Mr. Carson," she breathed, allowing her relief at his overt declaration to shine through, "because I think marrying you will make me very happy too."

Mr. Carson cleared his throat to stop a soppy smile from breaking out on his face. But he stood a little taller, and allowed his chest to swell with pride at her acceptance.

She felt the change in his posture and couldn't help smiling softly when he pulled her a little closer.

Together they continued on their way back to the Abbey – both feeling steadier than they had in years.

I figured a little fluff at the end couldn't hurt. I'd love to hear from you!