Greetings fellow Chelsie fans, and Happy Christmas to you all!
I am a new author, and I have a confession...prior to September 2016, the only time I had EVER watched even a single episode of DA all the way through was New Year's 2016 when friends I was visiting tuned in for 6.1. I really didn't know the characters then, even assuming that "Mrs. Hughes" was married to, or widowed from, a Mr. Hughes. But I quickly understood the basics of a rich family in England with a hot while often curmudgeonly Butler, aka "DownstairsDaddy." A September 2016 Downton Abbey marathon on the local public television station sucked me in. Mind you, I still have yet to watch ANY DA season all the way through, save for speeding through Season 6 on two recent, overseas flights, but I have been a goner for the last few months. I recall it was in the interest of understanding more of the characters' backstory that I first Googled "Carson and Hughes" which led me to FanFiction.
Honestly, prior to mid-September, I had no idea this forum even existed – for Chelsie, for Downton, for ANYTHING! And as much as Julian Fellows owns them, it is you all who have brought Chelsie to life for me and kept drawing me in further. I have devoured many, many of your stories and chapters over the months since then. I have come to understand the concept of AUs; how fertile some imaginations can be; and how well some can write smut! There are great talents in this community – I applaud you, I thank you! You have entertained me and inspired me. As thanks, I have opted to try to write and post myself.
Given my still unfamiliarity with all the DA details, beyond what I have learned here and Season 6, I'm sure I don't have everything right, and I trust that will be okay as it's more about flexing dormant creative muscles and contributing to this community. I hope it will spur some more Chelsie writing from others!
Like the Downstairs Staff, I work in a profession where details are important, and constraints are a reality. For the first of what may be many contributions, I've constrained myself to the February prompts from years past and writing about the Chelsie honeymoon specifically. And, to get the ball rolling, I've taken all 32 prompts I've found in some stories and compressed them, four to a chapter, for this initial story. No, not in the original order – creative license, yes?
By posting my first story now, I really do hope it is a gift for all of you whose work has gifted me over the last few months. I have the remaining chapters in this first story outlined and with your encouragement, I will finish them and contribute more in time – assuming the Chelsie ship hasn't sailed completely. Chelsie on?
Chapter 1. Train
In his more than half-century of Service, Charles Carson had a hand in two generations of weddings for members of the Family. To be certain, there wasn't a drop of misconception on either his or Elsie's part that theirs would be a much simpler affair. Simpler, yes; but far from simple. His matter-of-fact proposal, void of any romance, had unleashed all sorts of angst and drama that he hadn't remotely anticipated when he proposed to Elsie weeks before. Foolishly, he had imagined they would simply meet with Mr. Travis, the Banns would subsequently be read the following Sunday and after the requisite waiting period, they would exchange their vows and be done with it.
Who knew she would first fret about whether theirs would be a "full" marriage let alone recruit Mrs. Patmore to fish out the terms he expected. Never had he been so uncomfortable in his life as he was in that conversation once he realized the subject Mrs. Patmore was trying to raise.
Then the debate over the whereabouts of their reception and his being forced onto the tightrope between his beloved Elsie and treasured Lady Mary. Lady Grantham's intervention opened the door for Elsie's heartfelt declaration upstairs. He just blindly had no idea of exactly how many more DECISIONS beyond those there were to be made about – as she had clarified that evening – "Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes and what they want."
Fortunately, they had agreed quite easily on Scarborough as the destination for their honeymoon. While Brighton and Argyll held sentimental value, they seemed too far to travel for only a few shorts days' time. Likewise, both the village of Bath and the promising intrigue of its natural hot springs, and London with all its big city sights, too, would best be saved for other times.
But Scarborough, adjacent to the North Sea, relatively easy to travel to and yet a world away from Downton seemed perfect to the both of them. Further, Charles recalled a former acquaintance, Mr. Catchlove, who had left Service years ago to manage a hotel there. When he phoned the property to enquire about a room, he learned that the older man had recently passed but his nephew was now managing The Chadwick Arms and was delighted to personally see to their arrangements.
And this afternoon, after their glorious wedding, warm and festive reception, here they were on the station platform, BEGINNING their sojourn to Scarborough where they would simply be recognized as Mr. and Mrs. Charles Carson, not the Butler and Housekeeper of Downton Abbey.
In the privacy of the schoolmaster's office at the schoolhouse they had, individually, changed into their travel clothes. In the end, the reception had gone on longer than they had planned and driving back to the Abbey to change would have made for a rushed ride to their train. As it was, their guests were able to see them off, and a short while later, the chauffeur deposited them and their bags at the station.
The train ride to York was the shorter of the two legs and they had a compartment to themselves. Charles had been on many train rides with Elsie over the years but realized as he sat down on the seat beside her, rather than across from her, the reality that the fetching woman with him was not just his travel COMPANION but his wife hit him head on. With that recognition, the brilliant smile so many – beyond Elsie – had only seen for the first times earlier that day reappeared on Charles Carson's handsome face. No sooner had the train made its initial lurch forward than Elsie herself noticed his affectionate grin and asked him teasingly, "What are you smiling at?"
Fixing his brown eyes intently on her brilliant blue ones, he replied, "You, my love," before smiling all the more broadly and reaching down beside his leg for her hand that rested there on the seat between them. Lacing his fingers between hers, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, which she returned. Letting go only long enough to remove their tickets from his breast pocket and hand them to the conductor, they contentedly enjoyed the remainder of this first journey together as husband and wife, caressing the back of one another's hand with their thumbs, conveying joy and yearning in the process.
At York, they had a 20-minute layover before boarding the train that would terminate at Scarborough Station. Charles went and purchased a bottled lemonade while Elsie waited with their luggage. She was surprised that as short as their visit to Scarborough would be, Charles had packed two pieces of luggage – and her only one.
Charles returned with the lemonade and let her take the first drink through the paper straw. Handing the bottle to him, she noticed that some of her lipstick had stuck to the straw and apologized, suggesting he might prefer to drink from the bottle directly lest the lipstick transfer to his own lips. Looking first at the straw and then quickly around the platform he bent down and whispered in Elsie's ear, "My dear, I don't mind your lipstick making its way onto my lips, though I prefer it happen like this," as he craned his neck, kissing his bride full on the lips. It was a quick but genuine kiss that put a twinkle in Charles's eyes, punctuated with a mischievous wink to his wife as he stood up straight and proud, afterward, tugging gently at his waistcoat.
"Charles Carson, I never –" was all she could say in her astonishment before being drowned out by the conductor's announcement of, "All aboard!" Handing Elsie the lemonade bottle and tickets that had remained in his breast pocket, Charles implored, "Lead on, dear Elsie," proceeding to lift their luggage by the handles, two bags in his right hand, one in his left, before they climbed onboard the train.
Strolling ahead of Charles to their car and eventually their compartment, Elsie kept smiling and shaking her head at the recollection of that very public display of affection her husband had just treated her to. Thereafter, she would always have a soft spot in her heart for platform number 3 at York Station.
Upon finding their compartment, Elsie looked inside and was disappointed to see a young man seated alone and reading a book on the backward facing seat. She looked up at Charles dejectedly and nodded toward the young man. Charles peered in as well but rather than be disappointed, he confidently nodded her in.
"Good afternoon," Elsie said with a half smile.
The young man stood, returning her greeting, "Good afternoon, ma'am, good afternoon to you both," he said, stepping aside to allow Elsie to pass to the window.
Before Elsie was even seated, she heard Charles's deep voice, in a friendlier tone than he typically used to greet interfering strangers. "Young man, my name is Charles Carson. This is my wife. You don't know us and we are unlikely to meet again after this train ride we are now embarking on together. But this is a very special day for us." Gesturing to his own graying hair, Charles explained, "We may not look it, but today is our wedding day. After 20 some years working together in Service, I finally found the courage and sense to ask this beautiful woman to marry me. Our wedding was a few hours ago back home where we live in Downton." Putting down the suitcases to reach into his breast pocket once more, Charles pulled out a small, plain booklet that Elsie did not recognize, opened it quickly and pulled out the remains of a white rose before tucking the notebook away once more. "This was my boutonniere, you see, and we are heading to our honeymoon in Scarborough. Are you headed there as well?"
"Congratulations, Mr. Carson, Mrs. Carson," the young man acknowledged with a wide smile and nod of the head. "No, I am headed only to the stop after next." As he began to sit back down, Charles cleared his throat, stopping the young man's downward progress.
Charles looked at the young man pleadingly, "Begging your pardon, in the interest of a couple of lovebirds starting their life together, one breathtakingly beautiful and the other her ragged mate, might I kindly offer you a pint or whatever you fancy for a drink, in exchange for allowing us the comfort of the compartment to ourselves?"
"Mr. Carson, there is not a bar car on this train, I have already looked!" Noticing Charles's kind and gentle gaze toward Mrs. Carson, the young man, however, quickly added, "though I know the closest pub where I will exit the train! Please enjoy the compartment and congratulations once again." Charles extended a Quid to him but the young man waved it off, shaking his hand instead. With that he made his way past Charles and out of the compartment. Elsie smiled her appreciation as the young man turned out of eyesight.
"Charles, you are full of surprises today," she said, patting the seat beside her. As Charles moved to sit down, Elsie continued, "the kiss on the platform, pressing your boutonniere and bringing it along, sharing those details of us with that nice young man to secure our privacy –"
"We have the compartment to ourselves, but we do not have privacy," Charles clarified. When the conductor had collected their tickets, they settled in comfortably next to one another for the remainder of their journey to Scarborough. Charles even put his arm around Elsie's shoulders, turning slightly toward her and the window. The glass was dirtier than he would prefer and if their journey and the daylight were longer rather than the current approaching SUNSET, he would exit the train at the next station to clean it. Instead, they remained seated together for the remaining 30 minutes of the train ride, Elsie leaning her torso lightly against Charles's left side, her own left hand and wedding ring tucked slightly under his waistcoat, smoothing small circles on his shirt near his beating heart. Feeling her gestures transferred to the skin of his puffed out chest, Charles thought to himself, "my very own travel-size smoothing iron!"
