Made with Love

A/N: This was written for Kouw in celebration of her birthday.

"Are you sure you don't mind my going with Beryl into Ripon today?" Elsie Carson couldn't help but feel a bit irritated that her husband was encouraging her to go with her best friend on this of all days.

"No, why should I mind? She asked you to go. You accepted. I think it will do you both some good to spend an afternoon together away from Downton and our cottage."

"But surely, today isn't such a good day to go. Would you not agree?" She watched as he stood at the sink finishing up the washing from their breakfast dishes. "I could stay home, and we could do something together," she added, her voice sounding hopeful.

Charles turned to his wife and gave her a broad smile. "We do something together every day. It's not often you get to do something with Beryl. I think you should go and have a lovely time, and you can tell me all about it when you get home."

Elsie huffed and resigned herself to the fact that her husband had forgotten the date. She was torn between letting him stew in his own misery when he remembered and realized he had sent her off on her birthday with someone else or telling him and watching the horror on his face when he tried to explain why he didn't have even a card on hand for her. Deciding that it would be too painful to watch and that he would go overboard while she was away, Elsie decided to remind him at bedtime and let the cards fall where they may. She might even buy herself a new scarf or hat in town … a birthday present from her husband to herself.

"And what will you do while I'm away?"

"Thought I'd do a bit of weeding in the garden, work on the squeaky door to the bathroom … odds and ends really. Why? Was there something specific you wanted me to do today?" He dried his hands and folded the dish towel, placing it near the sink before crossing the room and slipping his arms around her waist. "Your wish is my command, milady."

"Apparently not or you wouldn't be forcing me to leave the house today. I had rather hoped we could spend the day together. In fact, why don't you come with us? The other chores can wait and I'm sure Beryl won't mind you joining us."

Charles blustered and shook his head. "I dare say Mrs. Pat … Beryl … would appreciate having you all to herself. And the shops you two might venture into … let's just say I'd rather see the purchases after they're made … only yours, of course," he added hastily.

Before she could respond with encouraging words about how he might help her choose a few new lacy things, there was a knocking on the cottage door signaling the arrival of her companion for the day.

He quickly closed the distance between them and brushed his lips lovingly across hers. "I will miss you today," he whispered against her lips, "but I hope you enjoy the outing. I want to hear all about it when you return. Perhaps, we could go into the village and have a nice, quiet dinner instead of eating here," he offered, knowing full well that he had other plans in mind.

With Elsie and Beryl well on their way, Charles quickly set about his task. True, the garden needed weeding and the bathroom door could use some oil on the hinges, but those were jobs for another day. This particular afternoon, he was going to attempt something he'd never done in his life. He was going to bake his wife a birthday cake. And not just any birthday cake. This one was going to be three layers with chocolate frosting and all of it made solely by him. He'd managed to convince Beryl to share the recipe with him weeks ago, had her go over each step multiple times until he could hear her voice ringing in his ears, and had even secretly purchased all of the necessary ingredients without any assistance.

At first, everything seemed to be going smoothly. He had meticulously measured the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and sugar, adding them each into the large bowl after checking and rechecking the list. Next, he added the eggs and buttermilk, then the remainder of the necessary items until his batter was nice and smooth. The dark coloring of the mixture was simply too enticing not to sample it, and he had to admit that even the flavor was rather tasty. He'd only had one minor mishap with the cocoa powder, resulting in a large mess on the floor which he still needed to clean, but that could wait.

Satisfied with his tasty cake mixture, Charles methodically measured the batter into three pans and placed them into the oven, checking his watch to make a note of the time. He had been warned by Beryl that cakes could sometimes bake too quickly if the oven was too hot, and he would need to make sure to keep track of the time or else they might burn blacker than Elsie's first attempts at toast in her new toaster.

Once the cakes were in the oven, Charles started on the frosting. That proved to be a more daunting task than the cake and by the end of the process, he was completely frustrated and irritated. He kept reminding himself that his lovely bride was not expecting the birthday cake but at the end of it all, he would be able to proudly declare that he had managed it all by himself. Truth was, though, that his icing was a little lumpy and while it tasted good, it did not compare to the frostings Mrs. Patmore and even Daisy could make. For a few moments, Charles berated himself for biting off such a huge task, thinking he could bake a cake and have it ready by the time Elsie and Beryl returned. Then, one look at the wedding photo on their mantle strengthened his resolve and he returned to the kitchen, intent on finishing the job.

With the cakes out of the oven and his frosting prepared, fear struck in his heart. It was almost time for Elsie's return and he had not cleaned up the cocoa mess on the floor, washed up the dishes, or frosted the cake. The hearty beef stew was simmering away on the top of the stove, he'd chosen the wine, and had the bread warming in the oven, but the table had not been set nor had he had time to cut the flowers from their garden for the table. Time was simply running out. At least he had her present wrapped, though it was still hidden beneath their bed.

Faster than he had ever worked, Charles managed to get the table presentable to even his standards, dashed to the garden and clipped a few of Elsie's favorite flowers, and even decanted the wine before turning his attentions back to the cakes … all three layers.

That was when his true problems started. He hadn't realized it when he flipped the layers out of the baking pans, but the layers were uneven at best. Still, he felt he could remedy this problem by adding additional icing to the layers, in essence, building up the cake until it was even again. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that the cakes needed to be completely cooled before they could be layered with the chocolate frosting. By the time he added the third layer, the cake was leaning decidedly to the left and some of the chocolate icing had begun to melt.

The chiming of the clock on the mantle struck fear in his heart. There was nothing to be done about it now. The cake was a mess, as were his nerves. He had hoped to surprise Elsie with a lovely meal, a beautiful cake, and a heartfelt present. Instead, he felt he was offering her a simple meal of stew, a rather unimpressive cake, and a gift she could have easily purchased for herself on any given day.

To add to his misery, in his haste to clear away the mess in the kitchen, he had knocked over the container with the flour and it had made a white mess on the floor which needed to be mopped up before his wife returned. And that was exactly how Elsie Carson found her husband when she suddenly and unannounced walked back into their cottage. Charles Carson … on his knees … flour on his hands, clothes, and face … a lopsided cake with melting chocolate icing on the counter … the smell of stew and bread in the air … a perfectly set table … and flowers in her favorite vase beside a decanter of her favorite red wine.

"What in heaven's name …?"

"Elsie, I can explain," he said, looking startled. "It was all meant to be a surprise," he exclaimed.

"Yes, well this certainly is a surprise, Charles," she said, trying hard to suppress the giggles threatening to overtake her at the sight of her husband covered in flour. She crossed to his side quickly and cupped his cheek, kissing him sweetly on the lips. "It's a lovely surprise."

Charles took a deep breath and released it slowly. "You're just saying that to make me feel better. I wanted everything to be perfect for you, but I'm afraid I made a mess of things … literally and figuratively."

Elsie shook her head and smiled. "I disagree. You've managed to surprise me with a lovely meal and a cake. It's been so long since I've had a proper birthday cake. It looks delicious, and if I'm not mistaken, that's beef stew on the stove, another of my favorites."

"The cake isn't as pretty as I envisioned it. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to toss it out to the birds and have Beryl make you one," he said, sounding rather sad.

"Nonsense! I'm sure her cake cannot compare to the one sitting right here on our counter. Would you like to know why?"

Charles dared to raise his eyes to meet hers, curiosity getting the better of him. "Why? This I have to hear."

"For three very good reasons. One, this cake was made by my husband. Two, this frosting was made by my husband. And three … can you guess? This birthday celebration was planned and executed by my husband. In my estimation, that makes this the best birthday I've ever had."

Charles reached out and wrapped his arms around his wife, drawing her against him as they both knelt on the floor. "I love you, Elsie Carson, and while I'm sorry everything turned out a bit topsy turvy, I swear to you it was all done with love, and I do have a present for you."

She kissed him soundly on the lips. "And I have a present to show you, though that will have to wait until later … after I've had my supper and my cake."

"Well, if the batter and the frosting are anything to go by, the cake might actually taste very good, though the presentation leaves a lot to be desired."

Elsie reached up and swiped her finger across the cake to get a huge lump of icing on her finger. She gently spread the chocolatey frosting across her husband's lips then leaned in for another kiss. "Mmmm, I'd say the cake and the meal aren't the only things to be desired. There's nothing more attractive than a man who goes to so much trouble for his wife."

Charles had a soppy grin plastered on his face as he followed Elsie's example, swiping his finger across the cake for frosting before coating Elsie's lips with it. Without any warning, he closed the distance between them, kissing her with tenderness and passion.

It would be much later before Elsie got a proper taste of her birthday meal and the cake, though she had no complaints. This was, truly, the best birthday she had ever had … and she still hadn't shown Charles the lacy things she purchased as a gift to herself nor had she opened his gift … a new deep blue nightgown made of the finest satin.

When asked by Beryl at church the following Sunday about the cake, Elsie praised Charles's efforts highly, declaring it beautiful and incredibly tasty, much to the delight of her husband. "In fact, we're planning to do a lot more cooking together. We've found it something we both enjoy … immensely.

The End.