A/N: I'm so glad everyone likes Martin! We'll come back to him in a bit. There's a bit of a backwards time jump here, so mind the gap.
STORY THE SECOND - Soldier Boy
1914-1916
They know. They both know what the other is thinking but there is no time. There is a party and guests to contend with, all plans thrown into disarray.
Some of the men stay for dinner and a council of war and speculation. (Gossip, she calls it. He indignantly insists that great men do not gossip.) They do not leave until very late in the night.
By the time the two of them make it into their bedroom it is almost early morning. Charles groans as he sinks to the bed, finally able to get off his feet. Elsie joins him, pulling off her boots and rubbing her feet, wincing as she hits the sore muscles and tendons.
As he removes his own shoes, she falls over sideways onto the bed, curling up behind him. "I am perfectly willing to sleep right now like this," she murmurs through a yawn.
"You'll regret it in the morning," he points out as he shrugs off his jacket and tries to figure out if he can change into his nightclothes without standing up again. Elsie pulls his jacket over her head like a blanket, curling her knees up until they dig into his side. He shifts her skirts just enough that he can run his hand up and down her calf muscle. "Come on then."
With a groan she sits up, pulling the jacket off of her head onto her lap and giving him a disgruntled look. She pushes off the bed, grimacing as her full weight once again lands on her feet. From the wardrobe she pulls his pajamas, tossing them across the room at him before pulling out her own.
Only when the room is dark and they are under the covers does she voice the question that has been in the back of both their minds all day: "Do you think he will enlist?"
She rolls over onto her side to face him, Charles shifts to mirror her position. He tries to think logically, tries not to allow emotion to blind him. "I think..." he starts, "That Nathan is not foolhardy. He knows the risks. I doubt patriotism will severely cloud his judgement."
She finds his hand with hers, pulls it close to her heart. There is very little comfort to be had when you face the terrible prospect of your only child going to war. Quietly in the dark, she whispers to him, "I am so very glad that you are too old to go to war."
It is hardly a silver lining. He would much rather face the guns than allow his only son to do so. Charles can remember the grim years while his lordship was in South Africa, and the more terrible year after he had returned. The war had affected his lordship deeply and hurt his family nearly as much.
Elsie, of course, has not seen the effects of war on man first hand. Bad enough are the memories of Charles' frowning face as he told stories of coming across her ladyship hastily wiping away tears, the children's visits to the kitchen, angry and confused, demanding explanations, and how his lordship would vanish on walks for hours on end.
Charles pulls her closer and she nestles her head into his chest. "It's late. We both need sleep."
"Worry about it in the morning?" her voice carries a touch of irony in it, but her yawn overrides it.
He yawns as well. "Sleep," he urges. She does not respond but shifts so that he can lay more in comfortably while she remains tucked against him. They do not normally fall asleep wrapped in each other's arms but tonight the comfort from it is the only way they will manage any sleep at all.
Elsie has her afternoon off first. Mrs. Harding, the postmistress, gives her a sympathetic glance as Elsie dictates the telegram. They share a sad smile. This is hardly the first telegram of its kind that has gone through the office in the past few days.
She catches him in the front hallway as he shuts the doors behind the Dowager Countess who had come over for tea to discuss the dreadful topic of Matthew Crawley enlisting. He glares at her, mindful that The Family may still be about. She just rolls her eyes at him, it's not as if she's a scullery maid, and presses the telegram into his hand.
NOT ENLISTING STOP FAMILY SENDS LOVE STOP
She smiles up at him. "Some good news finally, Mr. Carson."
He smiles at her, the wrinkles by his eyes crinkling upwards. "Very good news indeed, Mrs. Carson."
