Charles helped her out of the saddle, his face covered with mud and a snarl on his face. "Oh Mr. Carson I'm so sorry!" Elsie could not stop the laugh that welled up in her.

His eyes flew open and he stared at her in shock. "I'm sorry...i'm so sorry...it's just..." She brought her hand up to cover her lips but she couldn't stop the laughter. Without thinking, she reached up and wiped away a clump of mud from his brow.

Charles couldn't believe his ears but his voice was rendered useless and he noticed a large clot of mud on her neck and started laughing himself. She was taken aback for a moment as well but soon they both were laughing hysterically in the rain, in front of her cottage.

They stumbled just inside the door, still laughing. "Here...let me help you Mr. Carson." She started to help him out of the jacket but Charles put his hand on hers to stop her.

"I think I better get back..." Their eyes met and his heart ached.

"Of course you will not Mr. Carson. It's too dangerous, we barely made it here. I would not forgive myself if something happened to you." She insisted with pleading blue eyes.

He was accosted by her stare and again his voice was gone. "I...I...should...probably...do something...with the horse then?!"

"Oh yes...you can put her in the barn. Can you manage? It's just down a ways from the garden over here." Elsie stuck her head outside and pointed in the direction of the barn. "There will be plenty of bedding for her. You'll see the 2 stalls empty...Joe has the horses with him." Charles nodded in understanding. She watched him traipse off and took in a deep breath.

###

"Let's get this muddy coat off and those boots. You will come and have some tea and get dry so you don't catch your death a cold!"

Charles looked into the small cottage, the inviting living area, the cozy kitchen. It was nice, he thought. It was lovely, clean and tidy, her essence all around. Suddenly he wished to lead a normal life and felt like a prisoner at Downton. "Unfortunately, I think you are right. It would be too dangerous to try and make it back now. The rain seems to be coming in torrents."

"Yes and it wouldn't do for you to get caught in that. Here sit, take yer boots off." he pulled a chair to him and he sat and removed the muddy boots. He had never been in a woman's house before, not like this, especially not one with his shoes off. Elsie crossed the room and worked on a rain had cooled the summer air considerably and they would need the fire to dry his clothes.

"Mr. Carson, you'll have to get out of those clothes, I'm afraid."

Charles' heart quit beating. "I...Mrs. Burns...I don't..." he stammered.

"Oh you can wear some of my husband's clothes." Elsie started down the hall. "I think you're a little taller than he is, but not much. I can find something that works."

Charles sat in disbelief. He wasn't sure what he was feeling but he realized he hadn't even thought about her husband and son. "Uh...where are your husband and son Mrs. Burns?" He called.

"Oh they are at market in Bristol. I hope they've made it far enough west to beat the rain. They left early this morning." She called from somewhere, he wasn't sure where.

"Mr. Carson, I've left a change of clothes on my son's bed. I've also left a towel for you to wash up in the bath. We are one of the lucky tenants to have running water and a washroom. Please make yourself at home."

"Uh...aren't you...going...to get cleaned up..." He swallowed hard.

She looked down at her wet dress and chuckled. "I will, yes. You go ahead. I'll get the fire going and put a kettle on. Leave your...suit...and I'll wash it out."

###

Elsie and Charles sat comfortably at the kitchen table, drinking tea and talking. The rain beat down on the roof of the cottage and every once in a while Charles would glance out the door. His anxiety and concern were dissipating with each passing minute spent with this woman he thought was beautiful. She had dressed in a thin cotton dress with an apron. He could only remember seeing his mother dressed like this. He was used to the propriety of service and the rules of class. The women he was around were dressed in beautiful gowns and heavy maids dress, save for the cooks and scullery maid but none had ever turned his head. He could tell Elsie wasn't wearing a corset and he thought how nice it was to see a woman's actual curves. He suddenly thought it hot, thankful he was dressed casually as well and not in his usual heavy jacket and trousers.

"How long will your husband and son be away?" Charles questioned taking a sip of tea.

"Just 4 days. It's almost a days journey there and back. They will spend 2 days selling the crops." Elsie looked into the bottom of her tea cup. Charles watched her, there was that look again, that look of sadness that he had observed over the years. 'What was it?' he thought.

"Does he do well?"

"He does. He has a knack for selling, probably should have been a solicitor." She chuckles.

"And your son? He enjoys going with him?"

Elsie finally smiled a genuine smile, her eyes twinkle. "Yes. He does. He enjoys people watching as much as anything. He never meets a stranger."

"He makes you smile...really smile." Charles grinned. "It's beautiful." He risked.

Elsie lowered her gaze and blushed but smiles. "Yes...he's my...everything." She looked around/ "Would you like something to eat? I'm sorry I just realized I haven't offered you anything to eat and it's getting late. It looks like you're going to have to stay here Mr. Carson."

"Yes. I'm afraid so. I just hope they won't worry about me at the Abbey. I told Mr. Bates I was taking you. He's a wise man, I'm sure he'll figure out I stayed put."

"I have some left over lamb stew with thyme biscuits."

Charles was famished actually and that sounded delicious. "Actually, Mrs. Burns, that's sounds wonderful."

She smiled again. "Mr. Carson, would you do something for me?"

"Of course."

"Would you call me Elsie?"

Charles respiration's quickened, his mouth was suddenly dry. "Al...right...Elsie." They both stared at one another for a long moment. She broke the connection when she turned to the stove. Charles gaze landed squarely on Elsie's bum. He quickly turned his head, trying to banish the thoughts brewing in his mind. He stood and walked to the living room, his hands in his pockets, picks up a photograph lying on a small table. "Who's in this picture?"

Elsie leans around to see what he is referring to. "Oh..that's my parents. My sister had it made."

Charles smiled. "It's nice." He looked at it for a long time and Elsie watched him. She smiled.