A/N This one-shot is a birthday present for brenna-louise. When I asked if she had any special requests, she said she'd like a story about Chelsie calling each other by their first names or about Charles calling Elsie "Mrs. Carson." This is what I came up with. I hope she likes it. Please pop on over and leave her a happy birthday message either here on fanfiction-dot-net or on tumblr.

16th May, 1925; Scarborough, North Yorkshire

"Will you be needing anything else, then, sir?" asked the pleasant young chap who'd shown the couple to their room and carried their bags.

"No, thank you. I believe we have everything we require," Charles answered as he fished some coins from his pocket and placed them in the lad's hand.

"Thank you, sir; that's very generous. I hope you enjoy your stay," said the young man as he left the room, and Charles closed and locked the door.

Elsie stood looking out of one of the room's two large windows while removing her hat. Night was falling, but she could still make out the enchanting panorama of the beach and the sea. She could hear the gulls calling and the surf breaking on the shore. She could even smell and taste the sea air.

"It's a lovely view," she observed. "I daresay we'll see a beautiful sunrise over the water in the morning."

"I'm not interested in seeing the sun or the sea or the sand," Charles rumbled. He stole up behind her, laid his hands lightly on her shoulders, and spoke softly near her ear. "The only breathtaking scene that concerns me is that of my new bride standing right here in my arms." He moved his hands to rest on her hips.

Elsie's eyes fluttered shut, and she drew in a sudden breath. Her lips curved gently upward, and warmth and color suffused her cheeks. Though Charles had occasionally offered her sincere compliments during the five months of their engagement, she was still unaccustomed to such praise. And despite the fact that they'd shared several kisses and embraces during that time, his nearness and his touch now further discomposed her. Consequently, she was unable to formulate a suitable reply, and a breathy "Mr. Carson … " was all she could manage in response.

"You don't think maybe you should start calling me 'Charles'?" he suggested seriously.

She turned to face him, still struggling to find words. "But … months ago, when I suggested you call me 'Elsie,' you wouldn't … and I thought you didn't … and in all this time, you've never … "

"I know, love, and I'm sorry. There are so very many things I wish I'd done differently 'in all this time.' Come here, please."

Taking her hand, he led her to the small settee between the windows, and the two sat down, facing each other. He leaned in and kissed her, then eased back with a sigh.

"I've gone about this all wrong," he began, "and I'm shocked that you've gone ahead and married me despite all my bumbling. I'm not very good at this – at being in love, I mean. It's all new to me, and I've no idea how to go about it. And Heaven knows how I'll fare at being married! I'm sure I'll make a right mess of it. But know this: your marrying me has made me the happiest man alive. I know Mrs. Patmore conveyed some of my sentiments to you, but you deserve to hear it from me. I can hardly put into words how I feel about you. You're kind and patient, strong yet gentle, spirited and compassionate … so clever I can hardly keep up with you … and so, so enchantingly beautiful. I love you with all my heart … Elsie." As he finished, his voice faltered, and his eyes welled up with tears.

Elsie's eyes were clouded over, too, and when she spoke, her words were a weak whisper. "I love you, too … Charles." She lunged forward and threw her arms around him, sobbing into his neck.

He returned her embrace, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her tightly. "I'm so sorry, my love. I should have been more forthcoming from the start. For goodness' sake, I proposed without ever having declared my feelings! What must you have thought of me? I'd never wooed you or courted you … never given you flowers or chocolates … never asked you to walk out with me or go to tea … It's no wonder you had to send Mrs. Patmore to divine my intentions!"

"You did ask me to buy a house with you," she pointed out with a laugh combined with a sniffle.

"Oh, yes. Very romantic, too, that was. And you understood me perfectly, did you? You interpreted my suggestion to mean, 'Elsie Hughes, I love you so much it hurts, and I can't live without you'?"

"Well, no, actually. I never arrived at quite that meaning."

"You've always understood me," said Charles. "You know me better than I know myself. I foolishly believed you knew how I felt about you. I assumed – incorrectly, it seems – that I couldn't possibly hide my feelings. But even if you had known, you still would have deserved a proper courtship."

"I don't care about all the trappings of courtship. The purpose of courting is for two people to get to know each other, for them to discover whether they're well-suited to one another," Elsie explained. "By the time you asked me to marry you, we'd been 'courting' for nearly thirty years, and I think we'd already established beyond a doubt that we were well-suited! I don't mind that we overlooked some of the more romantic aspects, but I do wish I'd known how you felt. It would have saved me a great deal of worry."

"I regret bitterly that I caused you even a moment's anguish, but I can't change that now. However, I do intend to atone for my neglect by spending the rest of my days making certain that you know just how much I adore you … how badly I need you … and how desperately I want you." He pulled her to him, kissed her, and asked earnestly, "Elsie Carson, will you be my wife?"

"I'm afraid you're already stuck with me, Charles," she laughed.

"I'm not convinced I can be hearing this right," he returned playfully.

"You are … if you think … I am saying … yes." And she pressed her lips – and her body – firmly to his. After just a few kisses and heated touches, they were both panting and gasping. She rose from the settee, and he did, too. Looking him squarely and deeply in the eyes, she invited him, "Come along, now, Mr. Carson … and make me your wife." And she took him by the hand and led him to bed.

Sometime later, when they lay naked in bed, ensconced in each other's embrace, no longer harboring any doubts about the other's feelings or intentions, utterly sated, and supremely happy, Charles murmured, "I love you, Elsie."

And Elsie whispered back, "I love you, too, Charles. But … you don't think maybe you should start calling me … 'Mrs. Carson'?"

"Very well … Mrs. Carson," he obliged as he kissed her neck. "Mrs. Carson," he repeated, nibbling her ear. "Mrs. Carson," he said a third time before he captured her lips with his own.