The rain was pouring outside in heavy torrents, beating against the window panes. The trees were moaning outside due to the force of the wind and the storm that circled all of Downton didn't seem anywhere close to subsiding. The clock on the mantelpiece by the fireplace at the Carsons cottage struck 2 in the afternoon, its gentle chimes blending into the turbulent sounds of the storm outside.

Elsie was sitting on a chair by the fireplace, sewing a pretty little dress for the new Bates baby, lovingly named Elisabeth after the kind Scottish Housekeeper to whom Anna Bates looked up to and loved like a mother. Elisabeth with an "s" no less, Elsie often thought with humble pride. Her fingers were very cold despite the fire and her endurance, a result of her upbringing among the cold hills and fields of the little village of Argyll nestled in the picturesque Scottish Highlands.

Charles was fast asleep on the settee by the fire, next to Elsie's chair. His shoeless legs stretched out and the open book which he was reading before he lazily gave way to sleep spread open across his chest. His greying hair rumpled, a slight smile on his face, so un-Carson like.

Elsie looked up from her work at her bear of a husband asleep on the settee. A soft laugh involuntarily escaped her lips as she watched this gentle giant of a man fitting into the comparatively small settee. Her eyes lit up and her cheeks blushed slightly as she thought of her Butler. The carefree side that no one else saw. The man she fell hopelessly in love with. For a moment her mind drifted to the many years they spent together as colleagues. They weren't married only by law and name, for throughout those decades they cared for each other so lovingly. Married life was simply a more relaxed continuation of what they already had. Of course with some interesting happy additions! The last thought made Elsie blush a much deeper shade of red.

She looked down back at the little dress that now lay on her lap. Sometimes she wondered how the children she would have had with Charles would have looked like, if life had been fair on them. She often pictured a young girl with his brown eyes and her auburn hair and a young boy with her blue eyes and his tall and broad frame. She would at times dare to imagine them with Charles and her. Sitting at the same table at dinner and chattering away. Maybe the children would have caught a bit of her accent, a slightly strong tap on the "r". A little dragging of the vowels. Sometimes they would visit her in her dreams. Making her both happy and a bit a sad, but always leaving a few tears on her pillow and cheeks which she secretly wiped away before Charles saw. But Elsie had no regrets. She had Charles and that was what she had wanted more than anything else in the world.

Elsie was lost in her thoughts so deeply that she didn't notice that Charles had woken up and was now looking at her. He watched the glow of the fire dance across her pretty face and smiled inwardly about how lucky he was to finally win her. As he silently admired his lovely wife lost in her own thoughts, he noticed a gentle trace of an emotion which constituted either worry or sorrow or both laced with the slight smile across her lips.

"Elsie?" he asked softly so as not to startle her.

"Oh Charles. I didn't realize that you were awake," she replied with her lovely Scottish lilt. He loved colour that her Scottish tones gave to his name. There was so much emotion and love in the way she rolled the "r" in his name around.

"I wasn't for long. Just woke up now and I couldn't help but notice my lovely wife looking wonderful!" he flirted and a bright grin lit up across his face.

"Oh get away with you Mr. Carson!" Elsie laughed lightly as she playfully snapped at her husband.

"No, really," he replied softly and watched her smile lovingly at his emphasis on his earlier statement.

"Well, what are you up to with your fancy words," she countered with mischief replacing the gentle smile that adorned her face.

"What do you want me to be up to?" Charles winked. Elsie laughed lightly at this too but Charles noticed the edge of sadness that trimmed her normally very cheerful smile.

"Come here love," he motioned for the settee as he took his legs away. Elsie rose wearily and joined him. He circled his arm around her waist and the other cupped her cheek as she coyly looked down.

"Is anything the matter, my love?" he asked gently and ever so softly.

"Nothing Charles. It is me being a bit silly," she replied and looked deep into his eyes. For a moment he drowned in her deep blue eyes that spoke of the beautiful skies that stretched out and she in his brown eyes that whispered of the soothing of a strong cup of tea.

"Tell me Elsie. You don't have to be all brave and gallant about it. I can tell when you are upset."

Still having no answer from her he decided to try his luck at guessing. In a flash of a second he noticed the little dress that Elsie had left behind on her chair and in a moment knew what was bothering her. It was something he never dared to speak about. He didn't worry about it as much as Elsie did for he had Elsie, children or no children. He loved her more than words could ever say.

"Elsie, is it about children?" he asked softly and watched tears slowly well in her eyes. She didn't answer back but the forming tears were a direct answer.

"Oh my darling!" he exclaimed and wrapped her into an enormous hug. That was all what Elsie needed. To have the warmth of the person she loved the most to envelope her and drive away the cold that threatened her stability of emotions. She felt the rhythm of his heart beat through his shirt and felt quite glad he hadn't worn his waistcoat.

"I am not worried about it Charles," she whispered into his chest and felt him relax slightly around her, "I so happy with you."

"I am so sorry Elsie," Charles replied, a trace of a sob muffled by his strong voice.

"Whatever for?" Elsie asked quite bewildered. She released herself from his grasp and looked up at him.

"If I had not been foolish and had picked up my courage before. We could have had that life Elsie. We could have been parents. We could have been grandparents. You could have been a mother Elsie. A lovely mother," his voice broke down and the tears that formed earlier were now rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh Charlie," Elsie took hold of his face in both of her hands and looked at him, "but we are grandparents. We have little William Bates. Now that lovely bundle of joy Elisabeth Bates. There is even Master George, Miss Sybbie and Miss Violet, Mr. Talbot's daughter. And of course we are parents too. You have Lady Mary. I have Anna."

"That's different Elsie," his voice trailed off.

"Only that they are not our blood and flesh. But they love us just the same," she replied and watched his furrowed brow relax.

"Then why were you so upset earlier, looking at that dress?" he asked, concerned again.

"You know how I get into my moods Charlie. You do too. They just come and go," she answered lovingly. He smiled again at last and she felt relieved.

"If Daisy saw you now she'll go all soppy and say that you looked like a hero from a novel. Maybe she'll choose Mr. Rochester," she teased him to lighten the mood. Charles felt much relieved for he knew when Elsie was back on teasing terms, then everything was back to normal.

"Do I not?" he asked cheekily.

"I never said you didn't," she winked happily.

"But you know Elsie, there are parts in that novel that Charlotte Bronte never wrote, those that actually should have been."

"And may I ask you what they might be Mr. Carson?" she asked as equally mischievously as his last statement had been.

"I would rather show you than tell you, Mrs. Carson. If you would kindly join me upstairs," he stood up from the settee, still holding her hand.

"Oh I think I would," she rose from the settee too.

What more can I ask from life? Elsie thought happily as her gentle giant of a husband rose her clear off the ground.