Author's Note on Elsie Hughes:

When considering this story I thought about who Elsie Hughes really was, where she came from and the time period she lived in. She was born in the Scottish highlands sometime in the 1850s. As a Victorian woman from a rural area, she must have been exposed only to the people and lifestyles around her.

Many of the churches in Scotland around this time were influenced by Calvinist teachings, with a strong focus on morals and adhering to church teachings. Based on this, I find it unlikely that Elsie Hughes would have taken a lover, something which surely would have made her the scandalous talk of the town, should anyone learn about it.

Once leaving her home and starting her life in service, Elsie might have been more prone to giving in to temptation, but at this point the stern teachings of the northern churches must have already influenced her enough to consider the implications, should she go down that road. Perhaps she was witness, early on in her career, to some unfortunate girl who had to leave because she was pregnant, or had been caught with man.

Elsie Hughes is a highly intelligent and driven woman. I believe that she would have sacrificed her personal life entirely once she committed to her career in service. Yet there might come a point in her life when she feels that she has nothing to lose, and that she has sacrificed enough.

I wanted to share these thoughts with you, to make you understand my reasoning for writing Elsie the way I have. Today it would seem very unlikely that a woman at her age would never have had sex, not to mention knowing little to nothing about what is involved. Once considering the facts that books that spoke explicitly about sex were not that common back then. There was no TV or internet, and women simply did not speak about such things. Men did, but women did not. I have done some research about this, and everything points to that most women were pretty much clueless about what was involved, prior to their wedding night (or whenever they had sex for the first time.)

BETA – BETA – BETA – BETA – BETA

This story is practically un-betaed. I have tried my best to catch spelling and grammar errors, but as a non-native English speaker who also happens to be slightly dyslexic… well, don't be to harsh LOL

That said, I would love to work with a beta for this and any new stories I might write. My current Downton beta's RL has suddenly become very busy (the reasons why are lovely, so I am very happy for her) and has regrettably declined to beta any new stories for me, only because she doesn't know if she can do so in a timely fashion. She is terrific, so I'm glas that she will continue to beta my Mary/Matthew stories: Last Year of Innosence and The Rightful Heir.

Anyone who would be interested in beta-ing this story or any of my other stories, please send me a PM. The story is currently rated T, but it will go up to M now and then later on.

Beta II comment:

Frogedog, if you happen to read this, please send me a PM if you're still interested in beta-ing my Mr. Selfridge story. Your account settings prevents me from contacting you via PM. Thanks! :)


Love Me Once and It Will Be Enough

Chapter 1 (word count: 4,100)

Elsie Hughes stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing her body. She was not usually a vain woman, but on this day she studied herself closely with a furrowed brow. Gently touching her breasts, she thought them slightly heavier than before. The dark patch covering her most intimate of places thankfully looked the same.

"You're getting old," she muttered to her reflection.

No answer came, of course, only a slight bounce of her breasts as she let go of them.

"Everything eventually goes south."

Turning away from the mirror, she started to dress; moves practiced so many times she did not even think to do them. Finally turning back to the mirror, Elsie was almost surprised at seeing herself covered.

"Forty four years old." She sighed and her shoulders drooped a little. She was two days away from her birthday, and only a few short years shy of a major milestone, one that felt just as heavy on her shoulders today, as it probably would then. "A spinster," she spat to her reflection. "Old. Undesirable."

Before she could wallow too long in her self-pity, she left the sanctuary of her room. The house was waking up, and the Crawleys and everyone else in this grand mansion had little use for Elsie, the woman. As she straightened up and fiddled with her keys that hung at her waist, Elsie was pushed back deep inside, allowing Mrs. Hughes, housekeeper at Downton, to emerge. The transition was smooth, and not really noticeable to anyone but her.

~ O ~

Sitting sipping her tea in her parlor Elsie thought of maids that had come and gone in this grand house. Young women who had given in to temptation, always to be discovered, and later dismissed in disgrace. It could have been her. Temptation had been there. But every time she had almost given in, her father's harsh words rang in her head – If ye get in the family way, lass, don't bother to come 'ome! Perhaps her father's hateful words had not scared her, especially not when she grew older and understood what a miserable excuse for a man he really was, but the words booming over a cowering congregation on Sunday mornings did. Having grown up with the stern teachings of the Calvin influenced churches of the misty highlands, Elsie had learned at a very early age about sin and that only a few were destined to reach heaven. Feeling as if the words were directed only at her, young Elsie would sit ramrod in the pew each Sunday, praying that she would not commit sin.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, putting her feet up on the small footstool. He had given it to her. When, she could not quite remember, only that she had cherished it every day since. If she stopped and thought about it, she would realize that he did an awful lot to make her comfortable and feel cared for. Those were dangerous thoughts, so she always pushed them away when they tried to seep through the cracks in the thick walls around her heart.

Elsie closed her eyes and yet again allowed her thoughts to wander. There had been someone, for a fleeting moment in time. A farmer. Her Joe. They had been sweethearts for a while, but once faced with the prospect of a life as a farmer's wife, she had recoiled. Envisioning herself as a farmer's wife immediately brought forth an image of her mother, someone who Elsie only ever remembered looking tired, with dead eyes, hope lost long ago with the young woman she had once been, before marrying Elsie's father. The following week, Elsie had accepted a position miles away. She had hurt Joe, she knew that, but she could not face a life like her mother's.

"Mrs. Hughes?"

"Come in Mr. Carson." She smiled and gestured for him to take a seat. "I just made some tea."

He nodded and sank down in the offered chair, watching her prepare his tea the way he liked it. She had done it every day for years now.

"I was thinking… thank you." He took the cup from her.

"Yes?"

"If it's not too presumptuous of me to ask…" She frowned when his face seemed to color slightly. His warm eyes met hers. "On Thursday… perhaps you would consider having luncheon in Ripon with me?"

"Luncheon in Ripon?" she echoed with an amused chuckle. "Why on earth for? And even so, how could we possibly carry that off? Both of us gone at the same time."

"I suppose they would just have to manage without us."

She rolled her eyes at him. "As if his lordship, or your precious Lady Mary could."

"It was actually Lady Mary's idea, so perhaps you should choose your words a bit more kindly."

That took her by surprise. Lady Mary Crawley was not the warmest of people, as far as Elsie was concerned. The Earl of Grantham's nineteen year old daughter seemed much too self-centered to consider the housekeeper's comfort.

"I'm sorry."

"That's all right." He smiled at her and to her surprise placed his large warm hand over hers on the desk. "She thought that it might be nice for you."

"You told her." Elsie made a face.

"Actually she knew. Don't ask me how, but she did."

"Lady Mary Crawley knows that my birthday is this week? Well, I'll be damned." She shook her head in disbelief.

"She does, and she told me to inform you that you will have the day off."

"What? Now wait…"

"… and the following one too."

"Did she fall and hit her head?" Elsie muttered.

His fingers stroked over hers and she looked up. "His lordship agreed, and I do too. You have more than earned it, Elsie Hughes. So will you?"

She smiled then. He looked so young in that moment. Almost fearful that she would say no.

"Of course I will. It's very kind of you to ask, Mr. Carson."

"It's my absolute pleasure." He rose and her hand slipped out of his. She instantly felt cold and lonely. "Would the nine thirty train suit you?"

"Certainly. If you can be spared that early."

"I am at your disposal the entire day."

"Goodness me, Mr. Carson, carry on like that and you'll have me blush like a wee lass."

"In my eyes, Mrs. Hughes, you will always be as lovely as a blushing wee lass."

She just stared at the door, long after he had left, his words still ringing in her ears.

~ O ~

The night before her birthday, Elsie struggled to ease her mind enough for sleep to claim her. She thought about the day ahead, of the day that had gone by. Mr. Carson had been giddy around her all day. She smiled at the memory of catching him singing in his office, and doing what looked almost like a skip and dance.

She rolled over, trying to get comfortable. Ever since he had said those sweet words to her, calling her a lovely wee lass, she had wondered if she truly had missed out on something when she had never given in to temptation. The few times when he had stood a little closer than what propriety dictated, or when their legs touched under the table in the servants' hall, she had felt a flutter of something. His hands had always set off little flames on her skin whenever he touched her. Still, since she apparently was the only one affected by it, she chose to do nothing about it.

"Would you love me, given the chance?" she whispered into the darkness.

For the first time in her life, she truly wished to experience love between lovers. Had it not been for the warnings, instilled in her from a young age by stern Calvinist preaching, of the damnation caused by improper actions, her hands would have started to explore. As it was, she snatched her hand away from her stomach to return it to where it belonged, on top of the covers.

~ O ~

He had offered her his arm as they walked to the train together. He was in a cheerful mood, chatting happily about how spring was coming and pointing out birds' nests and flowers to her.

Once on the train, he had taken a seat across from her in second class. She was surprised when he had pulled her forward from the third class compartments to open a door to one of the more prestigious ones.

"Please, Mrs. Hughes, don't hold up the train now."

"But, Mr. Carson, surely we don't need to pay the extra amount for this short little trip."

"Lady Mary requested it, and his lordship insisted once he overheard her asking me."

"Lady Mary and her scheming."

Carson just chuckled as he helped her inside the train car.

~ O ~

They had wandered around town for a little while before he steered her in the direction of her favorite tavern. The day was sunny, but still a little chilly so it was a delightful relief to warm up in the cozy restaurant. He had requested a table close to the fireplace. She knew it was for her comfort and she had smiled a grateful thank you as she felt the heat from the fireplace caress her back as she sat down.

Declining the offer of quail, knowing that she was not overly fond of the little fowl, he ordered a rustic meal for the two of them. She chuckled in amusement as her fingers curled around her glass of cider.

"Mr. Carson, you know me too well."

"I believe I do. You don't particularly enjoy the frills and fancy dishes that the upstairs eat. Your taste favors more rustic meals… meat pies, or cold meats and cheese on thick slices of warm bread."

"Aye."

"Happy birthday, my dear."

She almost choked on her drink as the endearment fell from his lips.

"Where did that come from, Mr. Carson?"

"From the heart." He held her gaze for a long moment. "Don't you know how dear you are to me, Elsie?"

"I don't know." She frowned, truthfully uncertain about his feelings. "You hide your true feelings quite well, Mr. Carson."

"Then let me enlighten you." He gently grasped her hand and stroked her fingers. "There are only two women who hold the key to my heart, each for a very different reason."

"Lady Mary…"

"Yes." He nodded. "And you."

"Why?"

"Because without you, I would truly be lost."

His eyes were so serious when they met hers. "Oh, Charles, you dear, dear man."

The smile that erupted lit up his entire face and he laughed happily. Their meal arrived a moment later, but the interruption did not matter. What needed to be said, had been said.

~ O ~

A dangerous thought started to take shape as they strolled through one of the small public gardens in Ripon. She tightened her grip on his arm as she tried to push it away, cursing the devil on her shoulder, silently repeating the words of the teachings of the highlands. He looked at her with concern in his eyes, but she looked away, pretending that nothing had happened. The thought refused to go away and she let out an exasperated sigh.

"Please tell me what's wrong." His left hand patted hers where it rested on his right forearm.

"I can't." She looked away. "It's dangerous, and you don't need to know my wicked mind."

"Elsie." Her name was whispered so softly as he turned to face her directly, guiding her face up so she was forced to meet his eyes. "You can tell me anything."

She shook her head. "Not this."

"Will this ease your mind?" He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a soft kiss.

It had been years; decades even, since her last kiss. Not realizing how starved she had been for this kind of closeness, she clutched at his lapels, pulling him closer, craving to feel him against her. His eyes were slightly wild once they pulled apart. She looked away, ashamed of her behavior.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be daft, woman," he huffed. "No man on earth would object to such a lovely kiss."

He held her hands, waiting for her to say something. She looked down at them, noticing the difference in size.

"I've never known… I mean, I've never had a man…"

He pressed his lips against her temple, hushing her with gentle words as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I know. I know. Did I frighten you?"

"Frighten me?" she frowned at the ridiculous thought. "Certainly not."

"Then what is it? What made you tell me that?"

"I… I wish… never mind." She pulled away from him and started to walk back the same way they came.

He hurried to catch up with her, gently grasping her arm.

"Elsie, please."

She spun around and her fiery eyes met his. "I was about to ask you to become my lover, Mr. Carson. There, now you know my deepest, darkest thoughts. I'm certain I will be both damned in hell and in your heart for even thinking such things."

He gaped, shocked, for a moment. Recovering quickly he cleared his throat. "I'm flattered, but I am afraid I cannot accept the offer."

She felt tears in her eyes and pulled her arm away from him. "I know that."

"No, Elsie! Wait." He hurried after her again. "Will you please stop and listen for a moment, woman?"

He was a little out of breath as he cupped her face. She frowned at him, but remained silent. He smiled at her and kissed her, softly this time.

"The reason, my dear, stubborn lass, that I cannot accept your offer, is because I want so much more."

Her eyes widened as he struggled to get down on one knee. "Mr. Carson! You'll hurt yourself."

"Please just remain silent for a little longer." He winced as his old bones protested at how he was treating them. Looking up at her, he took her hands. "Elsie Hughes, will you marry me?"

"What?" She just stared at him, her head spinning. "But what about Downton?"

"Downton will lose its most valuable housekeeper, our Mrs. Hughes."

"I know that." Her frown deepened as she wondered how he could treat her job so insignificantly.

"But the one who will take her place is even lovelier and…"

"You've hired my replacement already?" She almost shouted at him. "Of all the…"

"Elsie Hughes, I did not realize that you were this daft."

She huffed and tried to pull her hands free. "Calling the woman you just asked to marry you, daft, is not the wisest, Mr. Carson; at least not if you hope for her to accept you."

He struggled to get up, still holding her hands in a tight grip. "Beautiful, stubborn Elsie," he said softly, smiling at her. "If you had waited to hear me out, you would've learned that her name is Mrs. Carson. So I ask you again, Elsie Hughes, will you marry me?"

"We would both stay?" He nodded. "But where would we live?"

He rolled his eyes at her questions. "Will you please trust me when I say that I have all of that sorted?"

"I suppose."

"Good." He made a face. "Now, while we're still young, will you please either let me down gently, or…"

"Yes." She smiled somewhat shyly at him. "Yes. Charles Carson, I'll marry you."

He gently cradled her in his arms, kissing her firmly. They laughed as they pulled apart.

~ O ~

Taking the next train back to Downton they sat close together, her hand in his. Now and then he would turn to steal a kiss, making her blush each time. It was a good thing that the train was not very crowded at this hour, or they would have embarrassed more than one person with their actions.

"This is not the way back to the house," Elsie protested when he led her down a different path.

"I know that." He smiled at her and patted her hand on his arm. "I want to show you something."

Not much later did they come upon a small cottage. He opened the gate and held it for her. She carefully stepped through, smiling as she spotted daffodils peaking up out of the ground along the fence.

"Who lives here?" she whispered to him as they approached the front door.

"Right now, no one, but very soon… you and I."

She just gaped at him and then turned to look more closely at the house. It was a darling little whitewashed building with green trim around the windows. The front door was new and the dark wood shimmered in the light from the setting sun.

"How?"

"This cottage has been on my mind for years. Once I had saved enough money, I asked his lordship if he would consider selling it to me. He eagerly agreed once I explained my plans for it, for us. I still think that he gave me a ridiculous good deal on it."

"I'm sure he did, but you've earned it."

He smiled and looked away, feeling a little bashful at the praise. "Would you like to see it?"

"Of course I would."

He unlocked the door and she stepped inside. She chuckled when she recognized a small sofa in the parlor.

"Charles, tell me you did not steal his lordship's sofa."

"Certainly not! Besides, it used to be his grandmother's and he offered it to me."

"It's been in the attic as long as I can remember. I suppose it's about time someone put it to good use."

"That's what his lordship said." Carson gestured to the rest of the furniture. "He gave me, us, the rest. Refused to accept any payment at all."

He led her into the kitchen next, showing her around. Finally they made it to the bedroom. She stood in the door, feeling somewhat nervous suddenly. Glancing at the large bed, she recognized the linen. She turned to face him, arms folded, looking stern.

"You lied to me, Charles."

"I did." He made a guilty face, and then threw his arms out wide. "How on earth was I going to explain what happened to the sheets and still keep this a secret?"

"It's all right." She chuckled and stroked his flustered cheek. "I forgive you." She looked around the room, taking in the neatly arranged furniture and the pretty paintings on the walls. "Anything else I should know about?"

"The remaining missing linen are in the chest over there in the corner," he confessed.

"Mr. Carson!" Hands on her hips she gave him her sternest housekeeper look. "You told me that something unspeakable had happened to them, involving his lordship's hounds."

"Yes, well.." he scrambled to defend himself, but finally resigned to only a deep sigh.

"I clearly need to keep an eye on you. You're quite a talented liar."

"I am not!" He looked so indignant she burst out laughing.

"Oh Charles."

He followed her back out into the kitchen, all the while defending himself.

"I couldn't very well tell you the truth; that Lady Grantham wanted to buy some new special sheets for the family from Selfridge's, and asked me if I wanted these before she would give them away…"

"Mr. Carson," she cut him off.

"Yes?"

"You can continue this tirade… or you could kiss me." He gaped. "What will it be?"

"Kiss," he mumbled and stepped closer.

"Wise decision."

Sinking down on one of the sturdy kitchen chairs, Carson pulled her onto his lap. He cupped her cheek as his lips sought hers. She gasped when he a moment later squeezed her hip, and stroked over her backside. When her lips parted, he gently touched his tongue to hers.

Elsie trembled; she had never felt like this before in her life. Was she sick? Perhaps she was too old for this sort of thing? She pulled back, staring at him.

"Is something wrong, my dear?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." She frowned. "I feel odd."

"Your heart flutter and your lower body is tightening, making your head feel light?" he asked, a little smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, but that's not… how did you know?"

"It's perfectly normal, my dearest one. You're getting aroused."

"I see." She knew she was blushing and turned her face away.

"Don't feel ashamed about it. I can assure you that the feeling is mutual." He chuckled amused as he shifted her on his lap. "In fact, I would consider it flattering to make you feel that way."

"You don't think that I'm too old, Charles?"

"Elsie Hughes, you stop that nonsense this very minute. You're the perfect woman for me. I don't want you any other way."

She smiled at him then, cupping his face before kissing him. "Thank you."

"When should we tell the others?"

She sat up straight. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I suppose we should set a date first."

"I don't want to wait, Charles." She looked down, slightly ashamed to admit her eagerness.

"Neither do I. How about right before Easter?"

"Aren't you going to London with the family for Easter?"

"Not this time. They will be staying at Lady Rosamund's since Grantham House is still being renovated."

"So we are to remain here?"

"We are indeed. His lordship only told me this past week."

"With them gone for over a week?"

He nodded, chuckling at the wicked smile on her face. They laughed and he pulled her down for a kiss.

"So Easter then?"

"Easter it is, my dear."

Elsie rested her head on his shoulder, for the first time in her life feeling absolutely content.

To be Continued…