A/N: The truth? I have absolutely no idea what it is, and where it's going. I just know it had to be written down for me to be able to start thinking clearly again...

He was in a hurry—he should have been back hours ago, they were probably finished with their tea back at home. To shown such tardiness on the day when there was still so much to do!...

He gritted his teeth in frustration and took a sharp right, colliding with a female passerby with so much force it almost struck them both down. Startled, he reached out to grasp her elbows and steady her, his heart beating much too fast for his liking.

"Forgive me, ma'am, I didn't mean to—" he started off with an apology and stopped rapidly, having taken a closer look at the woman's face for the first time. "Mrs. Hughes!"

He thought he saw her lips tremble at his exclamation, but she recovered quickly and gave him a warm, friendly smile. "Good afternoon, milord."

Since he was already late, there was no harm in asking her to have tea with him in a nearby shop. Feeling incredibly awkward, her held out a chair for her and waited until she settled before sitting down himself; she took neither her coat nor her gloves off, but from the paleness of her skin he could say she was much feebler than when he'd seen her last.

They were both silent, eyes surveying the interior of the tea shop, as they waited for their order to arrive; only after she poured them each a cup of tea (adding lemon, not milk, to his: exactly the way he liked it) did the atmosphere change, as if the beverage was a shield they could both hide themselves behind.

"We have missed you at Downton," he told her, keeping his eyes fixed on her face. She met his gaze bravely and openly, the way she always had.

"I've missed you too," she admitted with the smallest of smiles. "Although I daresay you have been much busier recently than myself have. I hear that congratulations are in order—to both Lady Mary and Lady Edith?"

"Indeed. I shall make sure to pass them your words, they'll both be very pleased to hear from you."

"How is the new Lady Strallan, then? And the youngest Master Crawley? You must be terribly proud of him, milord."

"They are both well... we are all well," he replied, deeply touched by her consideration, given everything that had happened upon her leave from Downton. "It seems that Fate has finally got tired of pouring sadness all over our heads."

"Touch wood," she smiled at him and knocked at the underside of their table. "I have read about Mr. Bates' release, naturally... are they still with you?"

"They are. Although Mrs. Bates has been spending most of her time at the Crawley House recently. They live in a cottage about half way between the village and Downton—the arrangement is proving rather satisfactory for everyone."

She looked away, biting her lip: a gesture he hadn't seen for a long time, and one he would always associate with her. "Please give my best to both of them—especially Mrs. Bates."

"Certainly." He knew before she raised her eyes back to his what her next question was going to be, and begged her silently not to ask it.

I have to, she told him with her eyes, I need to say it out loud.

He nodded almost imperceptibly, and braced himself for the hammer to fall.

It did fall—with seven simple words, uttered with utmost difficulty:

"And how about Mr. and Mrs. Carson?..."

TBC...