A/N: A shortish chapter, a bit meh, but sometimes you need a bit of meh to get to the next better thing. Which I will start on as soon as I can.
"You are something elsie, Elsie Carson." Charles grumbled. Elsie was brushing her teeth in the bathroom and didn't quite catch it.
"What's that, dear?"
"Leaving me to care for Charlie while you spoke to Ethel in the kitchen!"
Elsie came into the bedroom, wearing a nightgown, patting her face dry.
"You were having a grand time, I heard you talking and laughing and I know you helped him build a big tower from the playcards your Mr Worthing left here the last time he was drinking your claret."
"Our claret." Charles corrected her. "And we did have a good time. He is growing up to be a strong little lad."
Elsie saw the glimmer of pride in Charles eyes and she climbed into bed, turning to her side against him. She was the little spoon and he the big one, his hand softly on her hip, his face so close, she could feel his breath in her hair.
"Don't you want to know what Ethel came here for?" she asked, pressing her bottom against him, making him groan, his hand slide up.
"Do you want to tell me about Ethel or do you want a rerun of the events of this morning?" He held her close.
Elsie smiled from the memory, a warm rush of blood going to her sex, but she pushed the thought of Charles hands on her naked skin away and said: "Ethel's heard from Mrs Bryant."
She loved dropping a bit of a bomb, but she did not like it when Charles didn't acknowledge it. "Did you hear me?" She turned in his arms, to look into his eyes.
"I heard you. Well. What did she have to say for herself?"
Elsie was aware of how Charles felt about the Bryants, about Ethel's incapability to keep her legs together (not that he had ever minded when Elsie had opened hers for him, Charles wasn't shy of applying a bit of a double standard now and then) and she knew he still hadn't forgiven her for looking out for Ethel when the girl had no-one else to turn to.
"Major Bryant's father has passed away." She heard how cold and harsh her voice sounded.
"Oh? And is that going to alter things for Charlie?"
She liked how his mind immediately went to the boy, a little blond fellow with bright blue eyes, a happy smile and a keen intellect. Charles cared for Charlie, she knew, more than he let on, she could see it in the way he picked him up after falling and scraping his knees and hear it in his voice when he told the boy stories. There had been times when she had offered to look after Charlie and she had found both Charles and Charlie asleep on the settee after lunch. It had stirred feelings in her chest that she did not know she possessed. She was thankful for having made the right decision when Ethel had come to her, urging her to do something.
"Mrs Bryant wants to help." She said, thinking of other words, but finding none.
"Financially?"
"Yes. And she wants Charlie to go to a school away from Downton." Her heart clenched together. She couldn't bear the idea of Charlie being sent away to Shrewsbury or whatever it was called or some such place. A place where young children were sent and bullied. To her, the village school was good enough.
"What nonsense." Charles said and it reassured Elsie. "What would a countryboy need with boarding school? I am all for education, but he can just as easily go to the village school. And after, maybe go on to Ripon and learn a trade." He sounded very decisive.
"So you are not going to train him as a footman?" Elsie laid her head on his shoulder. She wasn't sure if she was teasing him or if she was serious.
"He'll be better off as a car mechanic." There was a hint of sadness in Charles' voice.
"Why?" She asked though she knew. The serving classes were slowly diminishing. The war had shown there was a whole new world out there for the lower classes. Charles didn't answer, but pulled her closer.
"Mrs Bryant means well, she couldn't help her husband was such a bully." He was stroking the underside of Elsie's breast with his thumb quite absentmindedly. Elsie let him, though it made it that much harder to concentrate.
"No, she isn't much to blame." She answered, but she knew that if it had been her grandson, she would have fought a lot harder.
She fight for him now. Charlie was part of her family. Nobody was going to take him from her, she would physically fight anyone off who laid a hand on the boy.
She felt how Charles' breathing was evening out, he was falling slowly asleep, she'd have to be quick with her request, the question she had had on her lips since Ethel had left.
"Charles? Dear? Will you stay with Ethel when Mrs Bryant comes?"
"Hmm... Sure, Elsie." He agreed sleepily.
"No, but really though? Charles? We need you in our corner." Her hand clutched at Charles' chest hair.
"Yes. I will stay with you and Ethel. I won't let anything" - he yawned - "...happen to our lad." And his eyes closed.
Elsie was certain he wouldn't remember half of this conversation's ending in the morning, but her heart swelled with a love for him she had not felt before. A love that stung a bit, but filled her with an intense pride as well. She lifted her head of his shoulder and turned, scooting close, her bottom against his hip. He turned in his sleep, wrapped his arm around her, making her feel loved and safe. She fell into a deep sleep and was woken by the sounds of Charles putting on the kettle the next morning.