It's warm for an April afternoon. Charles cracks open the living room windows of his cottage, knowing the breeze will bring in the soft scent of blooming lilac from the hedge across the road. He pulls the curtains around the small hooks, securing them, and peers through the window with a modicum of hope to see if anyone is coming down the lane.
There's no one in sight, of course. He knows it'll be at least forty minutes before Elsie even sets foot on the path from Downton Abbey - knows this because he'd glanced at his watch immediately prior to opening the windows - and another fifteen before she arrives at the cottage. In fact, he thinks Tom will probably offer her a lift, but Charles is sure she'll refuse because she never passed up the chance for a walk on a gorgeous day. He can't disagree with the sentiment, only he wishes time would pass a bit faster today.
The phone on the kitchen counter buzzes and he rushes to it in anticipation, but it's just the same unrecognizable number again, probably offering him yet another cruise around Scandinavia.
No, thank you.
With a bemused smile, Charles turns back to the object in the center of his small coffee table, the sight of which instantly turns the corners of his mouth downward. His gaze follows the cables running out the back and connected to the television, and as a sigh escapes his mouth he makes his way over to it all and checks all the connections again, turns everything on, and winces at the music emanating from the speakers even as he snaps up the remote from the table and lowers the volume.
"'Borrow the Wii,' he said," Charles mutters, Tom's voice echoing in his mind. "'It'll be fun,' he said. Right."
With an extra dark glance thrown at the Wii, Charles heads back into the kitchen. He pauses in front of the calendar hanging on the side of the refrigerator and gingerly lifts the page, peeking at May and tracing his finger over the small heart Elsie had drawn over the box for the sixteenth. The smile returns in full force, his heart swelling as his eyelids flutter shut, and he allows himself a few moments to dip back into a familiar daydream, wondering about her dress, imagining what will likely be her sure, steady steps as she comes down the aisle (escorted by none other than the Earl of Grantham), and finding himself unable to imagine how it will feel to slip the simple gold band over her finger.
A quick check verifies that the kettle is filled and on the hob, ready to go, and that there are ample biscuits in the tin. Rubbing his hands, Charles is at a bit of a loss; another check of his watch verifies that he is, after all, still some thirty-eight minutes away from their …
Date. It's a date, he tells himself. After years of wishing to simply have a date with Downton's resident housekeeper, he still struggles with the word, despite his current engagement to be married to the woman. But he and Elsie have managed two dates a week with her half-days scheduled on Mondays and Thursdays, plus a bit of extra time on Sundays. They've spent afternoons together in the village, taken walks in the park, and they even had an afternoon tucked together on his sofa last month as the rain came down in buckets all around the cottage. They'd solidified their wedding plans that afternoon, sorting the food for the wedding breakfast and the flowers for the men's boutonnières.
With another sigh, he makes his way back to the Wii, figuring he'd best work on how to use the thing before she arrives.
He boots it up and sits on the sofa, controller in hand. Tom had given him very brief instructions, but in the end Charles remembers little other than the fact that he needs to create the character - the 'Mii,' Tom had called it (with an exhuberant Miss Sybbie bouncing on the balls of her feet and nodding all the while). Charles smiles, remembering, then takes a deep breath and clicks the correct spot.
Tom hadn't been kidding, Charles sees immediately. The process involves few words and is somewhat user-friendly, even for someone with as little technology expertise as he possesses. He takes his time with each option, seeing what each will look like before making his decisions: skin color, facial shape, hairstyle, eyebrows, and nose (those last two make him chuckle when he selects the largest ones he can find and still is unsatisfied). He's methodical in the process and comfortable, he supposes, with his choices. He finishes by entering his name, thinking briefly of simply putting "Carson" because it is, after all, Miss Sybbie's gaming system, but in the end he adds "Charles." Once it's saved, he peeks in at the other players' Miis, and sees Elsie's right away, except-
"Knock, knock! Anybody home?" Elsie's voice rings out clearly as she comes in the door, and Charles places the controller back on the table and jumps up to greet her, checking his watch again, unable to believe how much time he's just spent on a cartoon version of himself.
"There you are," he says softly, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek.
Elsie rises up on her tiptoes and kisses him firmly on the lips. "One month," she reminds him. "I get more than just a friendly kiss on the cheek if we're getting married in just over one month, surely."
Charles grabs her around the waist and pulls her close, bending down towards her but stopping short of their lips touching. "I suppose," he murmurs, and he smiles as her eyes flutter closed. He gently threads his fingertips into her hair, which she's got loosely styled today, and closes the gap between them, kissing her very slowly and very sweetly until they're both breathless.
"Well," she manages when he pulls away. "That's certainly an improvement."
"Just you wait, Mrs. Hughes. I'm not a complete stranger to romance."
"Apparently not." Her cheeks flush, and she looks away as she unties her scarf and hangs it and her light coat on the hook. "I can't wait to see what that means."
Charles is already heading to put on their tea, but he stops and turns. "But … we are still waiting, correct? You've not changed your mind on that score?"
His words are almost apprehensive, and Elsie puts him at ease immediately. "No, I haven't. I rather like the idea of waiting until we … well, for all of that," she says pointedly. "It's quite traditional … quite us, really."
"Agreed."
They make small talk as he prepares the tea and sets out the biscuits, and Elsie notices the television is already on, the Mii screen up. "Got a character then, have you?"
"Yes." Charles rejoins her and pours some tea, nodding at the screen. "I was just about to fix the name for yours when you arrived."
Elsie glances up and sees it. "Mrs. Hughes," she reads. "What's the matter with it?"
He points to the screen, astonished. "There's no space between the 'Mrs.' and the 'Hughes'," he explains, as if it should be perfectly obvious. "After the period, I mean."
"Well, no," she agrees, keeping herself from rolling her eyes. "It wouldn't fit."
"Sorry?"
"The name limit is ten characters, or something like that," she explains, looking back at the screen and counting quickly. "Yes, ten. Spaces included. Miss Sybbie chose to eliminate the space instead of the period, I suppose. Does it really matter?"
Charles scowls, and her eye roll breaks through, which perturbs him a bit more. "Of course it matters." He takes up the controller and deletes her name, changing it instead to 'Elsie.'
"Really? You'll put my actual first name up on Miss Sybbie's game because it's more proper than a missing space? Not that I mind, but I'm shocked you don't."
"I'll change it back when we're finished, of course." He clicks back to the main screen. "Besides, I put my first name in, so now we'll match." He adds in a soft grumble, "I couldn't very well just put Carson …"
Elsie reaches for a biscuit to keep herself from replying, watching with bemusement as he goes back to his own Mii and edits the face a bit to make it appear thinner.
"It's smiling," she teases. "Is that right?"
He chuckles, then goes back and adds a furrowed brow and a scowl to his character. "There."
"And its eyes are blue."
"Well, I didn't like the brown. That was too dark, and the green was so very, well, green." He blushes a bit at the tips of his ears; she notices, and her eyes enquire silently. "So I left them blue because they match yours," he murmurs.
"Well," she replies tenderly, "I suppose you aren't a stranger to romance after all." Elsie leans over and pecks him on the cheek, then picks up her own controller. "Alright, then, pick a game. This one's got swordplay, wakeboarding, frisbee, archery … What would you like?"
"Wait a moment. It said to put the on the wrist strap and tighten it."
Elsie sees him trying to adjust the strap in order to fit his hand through it, but she puts her hand over his. "Wait to see what we're playing first before you put it on."
He looks back at the screen, scanning the grid of options. "I'll be rubbish at them all," he concludes. "Do you have a favorite?"
Elsie nibbles her lip, contemplating. "Well …"
"Just pick one," he tells her. "Honestly, I don't mind."
"Alright, then." She takes the controller and clicks the wakeboarding image. "You do know what wakeboarding is, don't you?"
"I'll figure it out, I'm sure," he says.
They follow the prompts to calibrate the controllers, and then Elsie selects the correct Miis from the board.
"Now, we'll do a 'beginner' level. You watch me and see if you can figure it out."
Charles looks on, his mouth slightly open in astonishment as his fiancée - his relatively reserved, proper, well-respected housekeeper - steers her Mii over the waves, shouting gleefully at the television as she does so. He tries to observe and learn from how she holds the controller, how she leans and twists and everything else, but after about thirty seconds, all he can manage to pay attention to is the joy on her face as she easily bests the round … or game, or match, or whatever it's called. He doesn't much care anyhow.
"That was spectacular!" he praises her.
"You didn't even watch half of it!" Elsie replies with a laugh, and she reaches over and caresses his cheek.
Charles clasps her hand in his and kisses the back of it. "Perhaps not, but we both know I'll be a disaster at this, and I don't mind one jot. It makes you so happy to play it that I'll use a Wii every day if you'd like. Perhaps we should get one of our own?"
Elsie laughs and sits on the sofa. "Why don't we see how you like actually playing the thing first, hm?"
Charles takes his turn. He doesn't do quite as abysmally as he'd anticipated, something which secretly makes Elsie quite happy, indeed. She wins, but not by as much as she'd expected, and they play the wakeboarding twice more and then try their hand at archery before turning the system off for the day and picking up the dirty dishes.
"We have it on loan for several weeks," Charles says.
Elsie sighs. "I know. I do hope they make it back for the wedding, but who knows how long that business in Boston will take? And I'm sure they'll want to spend time with his cousins, too."
As they're washing up, Charles asks about Elsie's morning.
"Nothing terribly exciting happened today, thankfully. Robert and Cora have more restorers coming in next week to work on that leak in the tower, so we've roped that section of the castle off from the guests. So in terms of general housekeeping, the staff have been rather at loose ends. I sent them to do some extra cleaning in the family's quarters - wood polishing and the like - because there wasn't much to do today with no tours of the main areas this past weekend."
"The rain is such a problem in the springtime."
Elsie nods. "You should come up and observe the tower work, you know."
Charles frowns a bit. "I'm not sure. I've had a hard enough time with this forced early retirement, as you know." He holds out his hand, which is trembling gently. "Somehow, it just seems easier being away from the place."
"Well, the workers that were there yesterday were talking to Robert about all sorts of details regarding the architecture of the place, discussing how they wish to use the correct materials in the repair in order to remain authentic. Half of it was over my head, but you'd be in your element. You may even be able to answer some of the questions they have about the history of when it was built. I think they left a list."
"Hm. Perhaps," he allows.
Dishes done, Charles escorts Elsie to the door. He takes her scarf from the hook and tenderly wraps it around her neck, securing it in a loose knot. But as he slides her coat over her arms, Elsie leans back and into his chest, sighing as he wraps his arms around her from behind and places a sweet kiss to her neck that makes her heart beat a bit faster.
"One month," she murmurs.
"Thirty-four days," he clarifies. "Dinner tomorrow?"
Elsie turns in his arms and rests her hands on his chest. "How about coming up to the Abbey for luncheon tomorrow? Robert will be around, and the weather should be lovely for a walk. We can maybe eat in the courtyard, if that suits."
Charles nods. "I suppose, if you think it's a good idea. I don't want to be in Mr. Barrow's way."
"You won't be."
She steals one more kiss, and it convinces him.
"Alright, then."
He grabs his coat and house key.
"You don't need to walk me back, Charles."
"It's getting darker," he says, locking the door, and Elsie glances up at the sky, still blue despite the setting sun.
"It isn't, really, but if you insist, I'm happy for the company."
She takes his hand as they head up the lane. "Once we're married and I've moved in here, you can't possibly walk me to work every day, even though it'll be dark when I leave the cottage in the winter."
"We'll get a car," he tells her, and she laughs.
"We will not! Everywhere we ever go, including the train station, is within a mile from the cottage!"
He stops, pulls her close, and drops a kiss to her forehead. "Then I shall, indeed, walk you to work every day."
"We'll see."
They go a little way in silence, companionably, and Elsie feels Charles's thumb brushing rhythmically over the back of her knuckles.
"Have you started packing?" he asks eventually.
But Elsie shushes him with a finger to his lips as a rabbit darts across the road a few feet ahead of them. "Ohh, she's got a wee one in her mouth," she coos softly.
Charles looks at her, his eyes tender. "You really are like a child, sometimes. Not in a bad way, mind you."
"I know what you mean, Charles. And I suppose that's a good thing; I'll keep you young."
He takes her hand again as they continue on their way.
"I'm pleased to inform you that, since you've been asking me the same question every other day for three weeks now, I have a different answer today."
"Do you now?" He's surprised, which pleases her.
"Yes. I've packed some of the books in my office and some of my off-season clothing. Not that there's much to take care of, really. I'm not bringing any furniture, of course, and the small sitting area up there doesn't hold much. Most of my personal belongings are in my office, I suppose. Living in at Downton certainly has kept my material needs down to a minimum. And you purchased linens and such when you retired and moved in, so we won't need any of that."
She doesn't tell him about the quilt she's been working on, the one she hopes to finish for their bed by the time the wedding arrives. Just thinking of it, and the bed it'll reside upon, makes her sigh.
"Elsie?"
She glances up at him from underneath her eyelashes. "Oh, don't mind me. It's nothing."
"I doubt that very much." Charles smirks. "You're a woman of mystery if ever there was one."
"That I am, Charlie. That I am."
TBC? This started out as a silly plot idea from Hogwarts Duo (who graciously provided me a tutorial of the Wii, which I know as much about as Charlie here), but I'm wondering if I should keep it going. Drop me a review if you liked it and let me know what you think. Thanks for checking it out! xxx