A/N: Hello again! I thought I would try to write what I believe will eventually happen with our beloved Elsie and Charles. I am going to keep this story as realistic as possible and very true to the characters. Hope you enjoy and as always, reviews are a joy to receive.

Chapter 1

It probably was not noticeable to anyone else but she could see the difference in him; his gait had slowed, his reactions a little weary and his shoulders drooped ever so slightly. She could see how it frustrated him, how he hated not to be the young, fit, and agile man of his younger years. Yet he still worked so hard, from morning until night, and still gave more effort than most of the young footmen combined. However, he was a proud man and as Mrs Hughes watched him serve drinks at the far end of the Great Hall, she knew he could not cope being anything less than perfect in his role as Butler of Downton Abbey.

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"It's been a long day Mr Carson," Mrs Hughes said, as she stepped into his pantry that evening.

"It has indeed Mrs Hughes. However, the ball seemed to be a great success," he said, raising himself from his seat with much effort to greet his friend.

"Please sit down Mr Carson, no need to stand on my account. Do you not think you should be heading up to bed? You look tired," she said sympathetically.

"No I am quite fine thank you Mrs Hughes. I am not tired at all. In fact I think I will finish updating the wine lists before I go up to bed," he replied firmly. He may not be as young as he once was but he hated the pity he could see in her eyes. He did not want Mrs Hughes to see him as some sort of tired old man.

Mrs Hughes rolled her eyes; thinking what a stubborn old fool Mr Carson could be sometimes. He looked ready to drop and yet he was determined to do more work. She knew how he hated it when she fussed but he looked so exhausted; she couldn't help herself,

"Mr Carson … surely the wine lists can wait? You've had a long day … come on, I am going up, walk with me …" she tried again.

"Mrs Hughes I am not going to bed!" he shouted bad-temperedly.

She looked at him in annoyance. How dare he speak to me like that, she thought.

"Fine … do what you like ..." she said, just as snappily.

"Fine … I will," he replied defiantly.

Mrs Hughes made a noise, signalling something between exasperation and hot-blooded anger and marched out of the room. Mr Carson slumped back into his chair, feeling very sheepish after speaking to her in such a way. He knew that her motives for wanting him to rest were completely pure; she cared for him and she could see he was completely worn out. He just could not bear getting older and he could not stand her treating him like he was old and decrepit. He wanted her, of all people, to see him as fit and able, not tired and crumbling.

Mrs Hughes was only a few years younger than him but she didn't seem to have changed at all, he thought ruefully. She still had the energy of 10 of her maids and worked a longer day than anyone in the house. However, he knew that he was not as fit as he once was; nowhere near in fact. It pained him to admit this to himself, but he was no longer sure he was up to the task of being Butler of Downton. Yes, he could certainly do the job adequately but he could no longer do it to the standard he once had and to him, that was simply not acceptable. For the first time in his life, the notion of retirement crossed his mind. He had previously thought he would be Butler of Downton until he took his last breath, however he realised now that he was coming to the natural end of his time serving this great house. He no longer felt up to the task and it might now be time to step aside and let a younger man take his place.

Fear gripped Mr Carson's heart at the thought of leaving Downton, leaving the family and leaving his colleagues but most of all, he felt considerably unsettled at the thought of leaving Mrs Hughes. However would he cope without her? This was not a decision to be made lightly. It needed further thought. He knew he was procrastinating, pushing back a decision that needed to be made but to leave Downton, and everything and everyone he knew, would be the biggest and most dreaded step of his life and he needed to make the right decision.

A shiver ran through him as he stood in his pantry. It was the middle of winter and the temperature downstairs, as well as in the staff bedrooms, was brisk to say the least. He smiled thinking of Mrs Hughes. She normally filled them both a hot water bottle to take to their respective beds. It was one of the many little ways she looked after him. Well, she certainly wouldn't have made him a hot water bottle tonight, he thought. He felt a piercing pain in his chest. He, at best, had annoyed her greatly this evening and at worst he had truly upset her. The thought saddened him. He wished it was morning so that he could apologise and make things better. He shook his head and sighed, switching off the lamps in his pantry as he dragged his tired body to the door. Thankfully he looked to the floor as he closed the door, otherwise he would have tripped over the metal hot water bottle resting just outside in the corridor.

Mr Carson's face lit up as he smiled a relieved and very happy smile. She still cares, he thought joyfully. Despite me being an old fool, she still cares.