A/N: This is the last chapter. I own nothing. They're fully clothed in this one, so I hope it's not too disappointing. :)
The tea shop was pleasantly busy. They sat along the window, with a nice view of the main thoroughfare. Elsie sighed happily as she enjoyed a second cup of tea. She raised her eyebrows at her husband, who was busy devouring his fifth scone.
"You could slow down a little…the staff here will think I don't feed you!"
He swallowed, leaving an adorable bit of cream on his face. "If anyone asks," he said, his eyes twinkling, "I'll tell them I skipped breakfast. And luncheon. Which, as you well know, is true." She blushed and reached across the table, wiping his cheek with her thumb. He smiled at her touch.
"I wonder what they would think of that." She sighed. "Oh well, we're already the subjects of gossip." She gave him a bold grin and licked her finger clean.
"Oh?" he managed to choke. He was grateful for the table between them. He followed her line of sight across the room. A young couple stared at them from a neighboring table. They quickly looked away when they realized the Carsons had caught them.
"They probably think an old couple like us has no business carrying on in public," Elsie said under her breath. "And they'd be right." She knew they weren't back at the hotel, and yet, she couldn't stop herself from making eyes at Charles. Nor did she care. Much. We've wasted so much time.
"We're not old. More likely, they wonder how a gorgeous woman like you ended up with an old booby like me," he smiled, his hand on hers. He hoped she wasn't thinking ill of herself. Her bottom lip was still visible, so that was a good sign. He leaned across the table and gave her a kiss. "I'm glad you did, though."
"Charles, we shouldn't," she protested, even as she longed for his kiss. The Housekeeper in her glared at the impropriety; as a wife, he could have ravished her in the middle of the shop and she would have welcomed it. When in public, she felt as though two halves of her were at war. The young couple got up and left without another glance.
He wiped his hands on his napkin. "Normally, I would agree with you. But we're in Brighton, where no one knows us."
"True. But still." He got up to pay their bill and came back to the table to pull out her chair, looking pleased.
"They only charged for the first cup of tea, the cake and three scones. I tried to argue, but the shop owner said the rest was a gift from him and his wife. He said they enjoyed having me and 'your beautiful wife'". He helped her into her coat, a smug look on his face.
She laughed. "That was nice of them. We'll have to come back tomorrow. Don't tell Mrs. Patmore, but those crescent sandwiches were the best I've ever tasted." He held the door open as they exited outside.
"I would never dream of betraying your confidence. And especially not with something that would result in me being chased out of the kitchen by a flying frying pan!" He laughed and pulled her arm through his.
She leaned against him, relishing the feel of his sleeve beneath her hand. "I know how hungry you were. Are you sure you had enough?"
"Of you? Never," he breathed, his breath tickling the back of her ear.
"Get away with you…" she shook her head as they continued down the street. As they approached the end, the sea gleamed between the buildings.
He looked down at his wife, who was blissfully staring out at the water. If only I had had the courage years ago, we could have had more memories like this.
"Elsie, would you like to go down to the beach?" He planted a kiss on her cheek.
"I would indeed! Although, you know Mr. Carson," she teased, "Your trousers may get wet."
"I'll risk it," he said, delighted that she was so excited. He was excited himself. They made their way down to the pier, then found a secluded spot on the sand. The sun was low. Few people were about at this hour. He worried that they would not have enough time before all the light was gone. "I'm sorry we didn't come down earlier. The reservation for dinner means we won't be able to stay long."
"Don't be sorry," she said. She fingered his sleeve as he removed his shoes and socks, having already removed her own things. "I had a good time this morning, and, well, this afternoon as well." She ran her hand down his arm. He gulped, as she gave him a dazzling smile. They held hands and walked into the water.
"Oooohhhh, this is a wee bit colder than I thought it would be," she laughed, squeezing his hand. "I don't mind, do you?" She took another step and almost lost her balance. He quickly caught her against his side.
"There now," he rumbled. "You can always hold my hand if you need to feel steady." He took her other hand, just for good measure.
She bit her lip, laughing at her own clumsiness. Looking across the water, she almost felt teary thinking about how far they had come since their last visit. "Wiser words were never spoken," she said softly. "As well as a little risqué." A warm smile lit his face.
"A husband is allowed to be risqué with his wife," he murmured. His lips touched hers as his hands found her waist. She clung to him as the water swirled around their ankles. Within moments, she was not cold at all. His mouth moved over hers, his teeth nipped at her lip. She moaned.
They were oblivious to everything else until the sun was undoubtedly setting. With reluctance, they splashed out of the water and back to their abandoned shoes.
"Oh dear," he said, attempting unsuccessfully to get the sand off of his legs. "I'm afraid dinner will be uncomfortable. Your-"
"Shhhh!" Elsie whispered suddenly. "We're not alone."
Charles glanced in the direction of the pier. He could just make out two figures walking close by. A female giggle drifted their way. His eyebrows furrowed.
"What the devil-"
Elsie squeezed his arm, handing him his socks. He pulled them on, trying not to hear the nearby conversation. The others seemed to have no idea anyone else was nearby.
"…it's a lovely view, isn't it?" The woman leaned against her companion.
"Not as lovely as you," The man leaned over and kissed her.
Elsie's mouth dropped open. She finished putting her shoes on, and gestured to Charles. He shook his head, not understanding.
It's the couple from the shop, she mouthed at him. His eyes widened. They tried to move away, but the only way back up to the street was right past them. Considering their passionate activity, it was a tenuous prospect at best to move past them without being noticed.
"Harry," the young woman gasped as they broke apart, "I love you. Thank you so much for bringing me here. I fell in love with you, right there on the beach."
"I remember," Harry said. "It was the first time I'd ever held your hand. I was so nervous." They hugged, laughing quietly. To Charles's disappointment, they still did not move.
"I couldn't think of a better place to spend our honeymoon than here," Harry continued. "And after this afternoon, at the tea shop, it seems rather poetic, doesn't it?"
"The way they talked to each other, it was like they were two halves of the same coin." His wife sighed. "It was so romantic. She looked at her husband like they'd only been married for a week, not for years!"
"And him," Harry agreed. "Every movement they made mirrored the other."
"Do you think we'll be like that?"
"I certainly hope so. Emma, do you remember what your dad said before the wedding? Love takes time, we'll learn about each other as the years go on. You don't just go into marriage knowing everything."
"I'm glad you listened to him," Emma laughed. "That's what I liked about them. They've learned about each other, grown together." Her voice grew quieter. "I'm sure they've had their good times as well as the bad. Watched their children grow up."
"If we love each other half as much in thirty years as they do, we'll be the envy of everyone around us." Harry said. They finally walked away. The only sound was the waves crashing on the beach.
Charles found Elsie's hand in the dark. Neither one moved.
He thought about William, standing in the servant's hall in his uniform. Lady Sybil in the kitchen, baking a cake. She thought about Thomas, who took a beating for James's sake. Tom Branson, who created an impossible bridge. He felt tears dripping off of his chin as he remembered Lady Mary coming down the stairs to marry Mr. Matthew. And Daisy, climbing the stairs to her wedding. She wept as she remembered Anna's terror and shame, then the pride she had watching her come back to life. Ethel's heartbreak, and her resilience.
Gwen. Alfred. Lady Edith. Mr. Bates. Footmen and ladies, heirs and maids. Joy and sorrow. We've weathered the storm. Together. We haven't wasted time. We've been collecting memories.
They walked slowly down the street again. The lights were on in the windows. Charles broke the silence.
"He's right, you know. We've grown together over time."
"I know," she whispered, her voice wobbly. "And…and watched our children grow up." A lump rose in his throat.
"And now the grandchildren."
"Yes," she laughed through a sob, thinking particularly of Miss Sybbie. "We've had a good life together, you and I."
He put his arm around her, holding her tight. "And we have a good many years together in the future."
She gave him a squeeze back. "Let's enjoy them, shall we?"
"Always, Mrs. Carson." They kissed under a street lamp as the first stars appeared in the evening sky.
The End.