Charles Carson sat at his desk, staring at his wine rota. His mind wandering, the pages before him a blur. It had happened last night. The one thing he longed for most...and feared most. He had dreamed of it often. Had imagined how it would happen, when it would happen, where? How it would make him feel? If his performance would be up to par? What he would say, if anything? Yet, when it happened, he forgot all these things. He was completely lost in the moment. The glorious event took him by surprise. Emotions he never felt rushed through his body. And now he sat in confusion and clarity. The confusion of what to do. The clarity of knowing how he felt...He loved Elsie Hughes.
Elsie Hughes sat at her desk staring at her linen rota. Her mind wandering, the pages before her a blur. It had happened last night. The one thing she longed for most...and feared most. She had dreamed of it often. Had imagined how it would happen, when it would happen, where? How it would make her feel? If her performance would be up to par? What she would say, if anything? Yet, when it happened, she forgot all these things. She was completely lost in the moment. The glorious event took her by surprise. Emotions she never felt rushed through her body. And now she sat in confusion and clarity. The confusion of what to do. The clarity of knowing how she felt...She loved Charles Carson.
The previous evening...
The fire blazed in Mrs. Hughes' sitting room. She sunk down onto her settee, kicking off her shoes and rolling her stockings down off her toes. She raised her sore feet onto the cushions. It had been a very long day. Being short in staff due to a flu hitting the house, she had been up at five preparing guest rooms, changing linens, mending, and washing. It had been a long time since she was so thrown into the actual physical labor of Downton. She was Housekeeper after all. Her whole body ached from her head on down. She undid the buttons at the neck of her dress, rubbing at the knots forming. She moaned as she leaned back against the arm of the seat. Then stretched out along the length, her skirts bunching up, her bare feet and ankles sticking out. The buttons at her neck undone down to her corset. She was sore and exhausted. She closed her eyes for a moment, knowing it would be hours before Mr. Carson would be done with the family, and come knocking at her door.
The dinner was small tonight. Just the family, the Dowager, and Mrs. Crawley. Mr. Carson felt confident in leaving the task to his underbutler Thomas. He was in fact a bit worried about "his" housekeeper. He had not seen her all day, except in passing. He knew she was busy filling in for her ill staff members, but she had missed breakfast and tea. She must be exhausted and starving, he thought. He would bring her a bite to eat and some tea. After all, was she not always taking care of him. He was pleased to be in the position to help her for once. He went to the kitchen where Daisy made him a nice tray to take in for her. Adding a small vase and rose, she handed it to him smiling. He reached the room balancing the tray with one hand while giving his customary knock before entering. He pushed the door open to find Elsie fast asleep.
His first instinct was to leave, to not invade her privacy. However, he could not drag himself away from her. Shutting the door quietly behind him, he set the tray down on her table. Charles stared at the woman before him. He had never seen her like this before. The bare graceful curve of her neck, her creamy white chest, the v where her soft bosom met above her corset. Her thin muscled calves, delicate ankles, small bare feet. He sat down at the table and watched the rising and falling of her chest as she slept so soundly. He should feel like he is intruding, but somehow he does not, and he cannot pull his eyes away from her. So peaceful, unbuttoned, free. The urge to touch her burned through his body. He had wanted this many times before, but this was magnified, uncontrollable. His mind told him to stop as he walked over to her, kneeling next to the settee. He lowered his hand slowly to her face and gently ran his fingers over her hair, down her cheek. "Mrs. Hughes." He whispered.
"Mmmmm. Mr. Carson." She moaned half asleep. Her eyes started to flutter open, only to find Charles Carson hovering above her, his hand stroking her cheek. She thought she must be dreaming as his lips came down to meet hers. Softly, gently, lovingly. Her hand instinctively came up, her fingers curling into the hair at the back of his head, holding his lips to hers. He deepened the kiss, their mouths slowly parting, tongues teasing each others lips.
He felt his control slipping as she placed her other hand on his chest, gripping his lapel, pulling him onto her. He moved his hand to her hip, gripping slightly. Wanting to move it, caress parts of her body he had always longed to touch. Yet he did not want to push her, scare her. As if hearing his silent pleas, she placed her hand over his and slowly slid it up to her breast. He gently squeezed while gliding his thumb over her peaked nipple. Wanting to say so much, yet scared words would break the spell over them. He pulled up slightly to be able to see her face. She bit her bottom lip and slowly nodded her head. She wanted this as much as he did. Knowing this pushed him over the edge. He loved this woman with every fiber of his being. He didn't know if he would ever be able to tell her, but by God he was going to show her. If it was only this once, he was going to love.
Their lips found each other again, kissing with a passion they had hid for so long. Her fingers slowly worked at his shirt and waistcoat. His fingers undoing the buttons down the front of her dress. They moved slowly, kissing and loving as they went. Savoring every moment,taking everything in, not wanting to rush. He was in his undershirt and trousers before he realized it. He sat up, gently tugging her dressed down while staring into her eyes. She raised her hips and he slowly pulled it off laying it over the back of the settee carefully. She pushed her corset together unhooking the clasps and slid it from her body. "Beautiful." He whispered as he lay back over her. Thin shirt and shift the only thing dividing their bodies. His hand ran up and down her body, loving every curve and dip. She was soft and warm, panting and shivering. He kissed slowly across her face, down her neck, leaving light kisses across her exposed skin.
She knew the next step would have to be hers. She reached down and pulled at his undershirt, bringing it up and over his head. His hair was deliciously tousled, a curl playing across his forehead. He looked boyishly charming, his curl, his eyes full of wonder and need. She ran her hands over his bare chest, across his nipples. She brought her head up to lovingly kiss across chest, her lips lingering over his heart. They moved to his strong shoulders, tasting his salty skin and smelling the soap and sweat. She bit lightly at the solid muscle of his shoulder. So broad and strong from years of lifting heavy silver trays. Her hands ran up and down his solid arms. How she loved this man before her. She didn't know if she would ever be able to tell him, but by God she was going to show him. If it was only this once, she was going to love...
