The mantle clock was mocking him Charles decided as he listened to its percussive tick in the next room. Time. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, swallowing a mirthless chuckle at how the measurement had always seemed to be against him in the nighttime. Many a miserable cold night he had spent in his narrow bed in the attic, thinking the darkness was somehow slowing time down when coupled with his loneliness. This usually led to his attention focusing on the far wall and wondering if the lovely occupant of the room just the other side was struggling with the same misery. And then in these recent months since they had married, the nighttime suddenly seemed to speed up as though purposely cheating him out of time spent holding and being held by the wondrous creature next to him.

He turned and looked at her form, the darkness stealing away the details, but not diminishing his admiration in the slightest as it was more than enough to sense her presence through her warmth and scent. He had no need of light to appreciate the elegant slope of her nose or the cheekbones which seemed sculpted by an artist who had mastered perfection, nor the kindness that swam in the depths of her deep blue eyes or the warmth that radiated from her wide smile. He knew these features as well as he knew each tureen and candlestick that occupied the locked closet in his pantry.

His thoughts suddenly drifted to the night they had celebrated the well-deserved and long-awaited Bates' liberation from fear. Strange that their liberation had occurred when he himself felt as if he were drowning in it. He had avoided being alone with her all evening until it became inevitable due to Daisy's transgression. Those moments after the young woman had left the pantry had been some of the most harrowing of his life until she uttered one of the most beautiful phrases he had ever heard, "You misunderstand me." It was in that moment that she was once again his salvation, a life preserver, as he now knew she had been the entire time he had known her.

Now, once again, the future looming with so much uncertainty given the invasion of the palsy he had so prayed had passed him by, he felt the need to pull her to him and feel that unique sense of safety only she could offer. He hesitated, deciding it would be unfair to disturb her slumber for the sake of his own. They had so much ahead of them tomorrow: Lady Edith's wedding and reception in tandem with the regular New Year's celebration at the house. In years past he would have faced the oncoming day as a challenge to which his well-honed skills and her command of detail would certainly overcome. Now he was terrified he wouldn't be able to hold up his end of the bargain. Not only would he let down the family, but he would let down Elsie. At no time in his life had he had a greater desire to pull the blanket over their heads and hide until the newlyweds were away on their honeymoon and the New Year many hours old.

A deep sigh escaped his lips before he could catch it and his body tensed up as he held his breath in hopes he hadn't awakened her.

Her warm hand slipped along his side and then up onto his chest in search of his hand. "Let me have them for tonight," she whispered.

He didn't understand her, although he gratefully turned his palm up to receive hers. "Let you have what?"

Elsie pushed herself up onto her elbow, her face now partially illuminated by the moonlight coming through the window on the other side of the room. "Your troubles. It's the middle of the night and I know you've not slept a wink. We've a demanding day ahead of us, Charlie. You need to rest."

He shifted so they were facing one another. "You know what my troubles are and I think I have burdened you with them quite enough as it is."

She hesitated before responding, fearful of upsetting him, but desperate to soothe him. "For richer or for poorer. If my lack of savings and taking care of Becky aren't burdens to you as you insist, then there is no way your hand will ever be a burden to me, Charlie. In sickness and in health. I would think you of all people would value the importance of a vow."

It was no surprise to him that she had found the perfect thing to say. "Thank you for that."

Pushing herself up higher, she leaned over and gave his lips a light peck. "The act of loving doesn't require thanks from the one being loved."

Another sigh escaped his lips, but this time it was tinged with a sense of relief which made her smile.

"Would it be alright if I loved you back a bit, Mrs. Carson? May I hold you until I fall asleep?"

"You never need ask, Charlie. There's no place I'd rather be than in your arms."

And just like that, the moment his arms wrapped around his wife, the waters stilled and he no longer felt adrift and unmoored and the ticking clock faded into the background as he fell into a dreamless and peaceful sleep.