My shot at the loves challenge. Short, but hopefully understandable.

Love

Riding along with the wind in his hair, Charles almost laughed at the feeling of freedom. He loved to help his Da work with the horses. Even mucking out stables and staying up all night with a mare having a foal was better than working inside.

His mother wanted him to learn his figures and train to be one of the inside staff, to be a footman or even a butler someday. He knew he'd never want to do that. He'd never want to be confined to a space as small as a house all day, having to be at someone else's beck and call. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing better than working outside all day.

More than anything, Charles loved his freedom.

First love

He hated the stares. He hated the bored glances. He hated the cheers. He hated the jeers. He hated the smell of stale beer and staler men. He hated the smoke. He hated the fights with loud-mouthed men. He hated the encounters with red-mouthed girls in alleys pressed against the wall. He hated being called Charlie. He hated Grigg. He hated dancing. He hated the jokes. He hated the travel. He hated being away from home. He hated getting drunk. He hated being hungry.

In short, he hated everything about the halls except one thing; he loved to sing.

Romantic love

Charles was taking the book back to the library in disgust. His Lordship had suggested that he read it to broaden his mind. Apparently he thought his choice of literature too limited with just Dickens. From now on, he resolved that he might sign one of these out occasionally just to satisfy his Lordship, but he certainly wasn't going to read it.

How silly to think that everyone had to be married to be happy! He was certainly very satisfied with his life as it was. He'd given up any thought of marriage when he set his sights on becoming butler of Downton Abbey. There was nothing about marriage that he really missed. His belly was full, patting the roundness there, he thought maybe too full. He felt useful and proud of his work in such a large house. If he occasionally had needs that needed to be filled, well, there was always a pretty woman in the village or London that was ready for a bit of fun. No; he definitely didn't need something as messy and sticky as love to complicate his life.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that he was going to be late. Putting the book back on the shelf, he shook his head wryly. Love at first sight! Of course there was no such thing. He walked quickly out of the library to meet the new head housemaid Mrs. Dunmore had hired.

One sided love

He'd not fallen in love with her at first sight, but at first conversation. She was pretty enough; with lively brown eyes and a knowing smile, but it was her lively, knowing words that drew him to her. He was lost after the first time he spoke with her more than to say good morning or excuse me. She'd been trying to reach some items on a high shelf, and he'd happened by. He'd offered his help, and she'd refused saying that pulling things off shelves was beneath him. His answer that it seemed to him that the problem was that the items were above them both had made her laugh. He was enchanted from that moment.

He enjoyed her cheerful nature and kindness. She seemed to see beyond his reticent shell. Finding the right words to make her smile or laugh became an almost daily mission. Unfortunately, he knew that to her, he was only the stuffy butler, and he was hesitant to try to make her see him as anything else. If he tried and failed, at best it would make working together uncomfortable. He would have to content himself with being her friend and save up memories of her smiles to fill his lonely nights.

Lust

This had all been a terrible mistake. He realized this as he lay holding her against his bare chest trying to catch his breath. Foolish man that he was, in some part of his mind he'd thought that if he gave in just once and satisfied his desire, it would go away. He was like a drunkard that had tried to satisfy thirst with a bottle of wine. He'd only replaced one thirst with another, stronger one. Now that he'd had her, he didn't think he could ever get enough.

While they were making love, he'd not really thought about it. Truth be told, he'd not really thought about anything but his desire to fill all his senses with her. He'd wanted to smell her, taste her, touch her, see her and hear her. She'd surrounded him and drawn him in so that for those moments all he'd known was her. That was all he'd wanted, to be able to memorize all this so that he could draw upon it for his late night fantasies and dreams. He supposed faintly in the back of his mind, he'd hoped that if he could make this enjoyable for her too, she might allow him another chance.

He was drowsy but didn't dare dose off. He wanted every moment of this time that he could keep in his memory, because he was afraid that this might be the only time. Holding her while she slept, he played with her hair and kissed her temple. After too short of a time, she began to stir. Unconsciously, he tightened his hold on her just a little. She began to stroke his chest and tilted her head to look up at him with a sleepy smile. Seeing the look in her eyes as she rolled on top of him, he thought that maybe this might not be the only time after all.

Doomed love

Charles knew that it was over. He watched the men limping over the grounds. He'd heard snatches of their stories. Standing for hours and days in trenches filled with mud and filth and then being ordered out of those trenches to senseless slaughter only to gain a few feet of ground. Men who'd gone through that would never want to stand for hours in drawing or dining rooms waiting for orders for tea or food.

Charles loved the traditional way of life, the order of everyone having a role and the pride that came from fulfilling that role well. He knew that once this war was over there would be new traditions. There would be no order and no one would know what role to play.

He had loved his life, his job, his role, but he knew that change was coming.

True Love

Charles smiled at his true love as he prepared her meal. The influenza had left her with weakness in her hands. She took his arm when they walked not just for pleasure but out of necessity to balance her unsteady gait. He didn't mind; he was glad to lend her his strength.

She was just as strong as ever in mind and spirit. He still loved her lively eyes and knowing smile. Her words still livened up his evenings. While his body remained strong, his mind faltered at times. He could remember the events of long ago so much easier than those of yesterday or last week. When the three little boys and little girl visited from the big house, he could never quite remember their names, although he found himself calling the girl Mary. Elsie was his memory, though. She took care of all of those things. While he lent her the strength of his body, she lent him the strength of her mind. They took care of each other this way.

There was one thing that he could remember very clearly; Elsie was his true love—a love that completed and fulfilled him.

Reviews are welcome.