Chapter Text
The young woman turned upon hearing the door open. She smiled when she saw the butler, his face the picture of detachment that she remembered from their first meeting, now almost two years ago. In his hands was a large tray holding a tea service for two.
Thomas brought it over to the small table at the end of the room and began to serve it.
Laura watched as he poured in the milk, then the tea, before dropping in two cubes of sugar. Once done, he turned and pointed to the steaming cup.
Smiling, she approached and taking the cup and teaspoon from from him to stir, said, "I hate that since meeting you even I can't prepare my own tea so well as you do."
"And now you won't have to," Thomas said, a slight smirk on his lips, resulting in an expression that was amused but not unkind.
"Do you think I've agreed to marry George for his butler, Barrow? Because if you do, you'd be absolutely right. I genuinely don't know what I'd do without you."
Thomas couldn't help but laugh. She always managed to make him do so and it warmed him that George—after a long parade of ill-advised liaisons—had managed to land a real catch.
Laura Cunningham was not old stock, certainly not old enough to satisfy George's mother. To be fair, Lady Mary was not so snobbish as she often let others believe she was, but Thomas could tell that she'd welcomed the news of their relationship and later their engagement with some reluctance. Laura was the daughter of a successful stage and film actress and the lord who'd bought her affections for a castle that she quickly sold for a tidy profit after his death when Laura was only five. So Laura had money—more than enough to save her from the accusation that she was fortune-hunting with George—but absolutely no regard for the trappings of aristocracy, having been cured of any respect for them by her bohemian mother.
She related her life story with hearty laughter to Mary, who was scandalized by it almost as much as she was by the fact that Laura only ever wore trousers. In fact, she favored cigarette pants cut to mid-calf and looked every bit the picture of Audrey Hepburn with her black turtlenecks and closely shorn chestnut brown hair.
Laura had no interest in Downton Abbey or being a countess, but she loved George too much to turn him away when he'd proposed, something George told Thomas he'd do when he'd returned home the night he met her.
"I'll come back for this later," Thomas said, moving toward the door. "I'm sure his lordship will want a cup himself when he arrives."
"Oh, please don't go," Laura said.
Thomas smiled. "Are you nervous about tonight?"
"Why would I be nervous? It's only an engagement party with the entire British upper class," Laura said with a roll of her eyes.
"Half of them wanted their own daughters to marry him."
"They should count themselves lucky. He snores like a monster, and it'll be my cross to bear forever now."
Thomas laughed again.
"I'm actually nervous because I have a question to ask you," Laura said.
"And what's that?" Thomas asked curiously.
"Well," Laura said, setting her tea cup down and approaching him. "You know that my father died when I was young, and . . . well, as much as I think giving the bride away is a terribly outdated notion, Lady Mary wants to squeeze as much tradition out of me as she can and I've said I'd go along with this one if she accepts my choice for who will do the job. And she has, believe it or not."
"Who is your choice?"
"You, of course."
Thomas looked at her agog. "Me?"
"I don't have much in the way of family other than mother. Henry offered and he's a jolly fellow but nothing to me. There really isn't anyone in my life I could possibly think of who means as much to as I know you mean to George . . . it's perfect. You're his closest friend, as funny as that is considering you're his butler and twice his age. And perhaps he's never said as much to you, but he means it. I couldn't have you serving at our wedding and not actually getting to be a part of it."
Thomas was floored. "And you say Lady Mary agreed to this."
"It surprised me too. She is not so set in her ways as even I think she is."
"That is true," Thomas said, still somewhat dumbfounded. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll do it! Please!"
Thomas pursed his lips and looked down in an effort to keep his emotions at bay. "It would be an honor, Miss Cunningham."
"Ha!" Laura yelled and threw her arms around him. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
By the third, "thank you," Thomas' arms finally came around to circle her small frame.
"He said yes?"
Both Laura and Thomas turned to see George at the door.
"He did!"
George bounded into the room and wrapped his own arms around them both.