I've seen Perfection

Part three

I must admit that I quite like this part, so I have high hopes that you'll agree with me!

I like to "borrow" some lines from the script if I can, I always think it's nice to recognize something you already loved, but maybe in a slightly different context. It will happen from time to time and I'm sure you'll notice some familiar sentences here;) Also, I guess the title will make more sense after this and I'd be curious to hear your thoughts about it!

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Mr Carson hadn't needed much time to check on the preparations for dinner. Mrs Patmore had quickly instructed him about everything she had spoken through with her Ladyship and had assured him that it was settled down to the smallest detail. A round through the upstairs rooms had shown him that Thomas actually seemed to be quite capable as well, apart from some small adjustments due to Carson's distinctive idealism, he had nothing to complain. So, with the blessing of his Lordship and under the eyes of a rather too smug Barrow, Carson left the dining room to make a last visit to Mrs Hughes before he would finish the day with his usual rounds around the house.

He knocked and this time, he got an answer, but there was something in her voice he didn't like at all, he just couldn't put his finger on it.
He saw it, however, when he entered. Mrs Hughes was just sitting up in her bed, she had been asleep until his knock had disturbed her, as it seemed, and she looked rather flustered.

"Mrs Hughes? Mrs Hughes, are you alright?", he asked clearly concerned as he closed the door and made his way through the room.

"I- I believe so..." She blinked several times, trying to chase away the sleepiness and memories of her dream in equal measure.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you", Mr Carson said apologetically and sat down in the chair that had become his personal spot.
"But we said I should come back later..."

"Oh yes...you don't need to apologize", Mrs Hughes assured him warmly, her head clearing with every second.
"I'm rather glad you woke me", she assured him and watched in awe how his eyes softened even more.

"Was it a bad dream?", he asked compassionately.

"You could say so...", she confirmed, "A strange one for sure..."

"I told you to get some restorative sleep", he scolded her, just a hint of real reproach in his voice, but she knew it was in jest.

"Well, I did hardly choose to have nightmares, did I?", she shot back in return, her Scottish accent slightly more distinguishable than usually. He liked it when that happened. Every time she was excited or passionate about something. Or when she was arguing with someone - him, mostly-, be it serious or not.

"Quite right...", he granted her, for now was neither the time nor place for discussions.
"Do you want to talk about it?", he offered carefully, in his experience the only thing that could do any good. Her eyes widened at his suggestion.

"Oh, Mr Carson, I don't think I should-", she refused and he feared he might have overstepped a line, but something told him that her reaction had a different reason.

"It might help. Go on, tell me", he encouraged her therefore. He didn't want to press her, but he wanted to be of help and right now, he saw nothing for him to be done but listen to whatever might be troubling her, to share the burden if he could. But Mrs Hughes shook her head.

"No, really, I would be too embarrassed if I told you", she said, looking down at her hands she was wringing nervously in her lap.
Mr Carson had barely ever seen her like this, he didn't know her to be the guarded type of person, never lost for something, and now she was even slightly blushing - he had no idea what to make of it.