A/N: Well, I could go on and on about why it's taken me so long to update this story. But you want to get to it as soon as possible, and I want to let you, so in short: Writer's block and doubt over writing ability are real things, real life takes precedence (and sometimes kicks harder and more frequently than what I'd like), and other stories keep pushing themselves to the front of the line.
There are several time jumps here. I found that I didn't really want to dwell on every major life event Chelsie experiences. The story just needed to move on. I hope it's not too confusing.
This chapter's rated M – just the last section really applies. Our couple is a few years older here, and they're more, um, adult. I tried not to go too crazy. This story began as a T, and I still think of it as one. Young love, and all that.
Major spoilers are dropped as to Richobel here. I'm working on Wait For Me, and the details of what happens to them will be explored further in that story. I couldn't write this chapter and not mention them. It might seem like I'm being very flippant with them here, like "oh, by the way…", but this is first and foremost a Chelsie fic.
Many thanks go out to you all who've dropped bread crumbs for me in the forest for the last few months. I never would have made it back to this one if you hadn't asked about it.
Enjoy!
It was really true that time went faster the older one became.
The days during Elsie's last year at Downton seemed to drag on, but by the end of the summer term, she could not believe how fast the year had gone.
"Part of me is surprised you did not apply for a place at Cambridge," Violet said to her on the lawn in front of the school. Staff, graduates, families and friends milled around them. "But I believe Glasgow is the right place for you. Your parents are justifiably proud of your success, as I am."
"Thank you," Elsie blushed at the soft look in the headmistress's eyes.
"I can't say I will miss the headaches you caused me," the older woman continued. "Though I am very grateful your behavior changed in your last years here. The credit goes as much to you as it does to Mr. Carson."
Charles was talking with Beryl and Anna nearby. Elsie smiled when Becky ran over to him and tugged on his arm, leading him away.
"I guess I needed someone to persuade me to change," Elsie fanned herself. It was warm in the sun. "I didn't listen to many people before Charlie."
Violet raised her eyebrows. "Do you listen to him all the time now?" They exchanged knowing grins.
"No."
"I would never expect you to follow anyone's path, except the one you make for yourself. You're far too strong-willed to let anyone dictate terms to you," Violet crossed her arms. "When you first came to Downton, if anyone would have told me you would leave here wanting to become a teacher, I would never have believed them!" she laughed and shook her head. "Elsie Hughes, you continue to surprise me. I wish you all the success in the world. I know you'll stay in contact with my cousin, especially after her wedding, but I'd like it if you kept in touch with me, too."
"I will," Elsie promised. She shook hands with the headmistress before they went off separately to visit with others.
She still surprised herself with some of the choices she'd made. Her high scores in mathematics made it easy to decide on her course of study at university. The decision to accept a place at Glasgow had been more of a struggle. A large part of her heart wanted to be closer to Charlie, but she had to be realistic. After finishing school in England, she knew Mam, Da and Becky were keen for her to be closer to home.
And the university fees were more affordable in Scotland.
She couldn't place the moment when she'd decided to become a teacher. The process had been a more gradual one than just a bolt from the blue.
I'm glad I told the headmistress she was part of the reason I made that decision.
The letter she had written her was in Violet's office. Elsie had asked Isobel to put it there.
Her older friend stood holding Richard's hand, the couple talking with Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.
It made Elsie happier than she thought possible, knowing that her friends were finally getting married that summer. Richard and Isobel had seriously considered eloping, but they had said recently that they were glad they hadn't done so. Their wedding would be all the sweeter with their families and friends present.
Including Elsie and Charles, of course.
Eight months later
"I miss you."
Charles shifted his weight on his bed. His foot was falling asleep. Elsie tried to smile at him, but he could tell even from the image of her face on his phone's screen that she couldn't quite manage it.
"I miss you too," he murmured. "I hope you let Julia drag you along sometimes when she goes out. I don't want you locked away in your room. Pining away for me."
"I never pine," she arched an eyebrow. "And I'm more likely to unlock doors than to lock them. But I am allowed to miss my boyfriend. Not that the lads in my course like it when I mention you-"
"Don't remind me," he growled. He yanked a hand through his hair. "From the way Julia described it, the first day they saw you in your first lecture, they were like vultures waiting to pounce."
He was incredibly proud of Elsie, tackling economics and mathematics. Of course she was brilliant; that was no surprise.
It was just too bad she was one of the few women in her course. It had made her a target for nearly every man she met. Either to flirt with her, or to sometimes harass her. He was grateful she'd found a good friend in her roommate.
Though he had confessed to Richard the fact that Julia was bisexual had worried him initially. What if she made a move on Elsie? The extroverted first year student from Paisley wasn't bad looking.
It had only taken his first meeting with Julia to know she'd never seriously flirt with his girlfriend – though he sometimes teased Elsie, just to see her roll her eyes.
"I can defend myself. As you well know." A real smile flitted across Elsie's face. "I should probably tell you while she's out – she's not dating Lucas anymore. She and Imogen are definitely a couple now."
"Oh, really?" He leaned his cheek on his hand.
"Yes, really. They went to Mono tonight, to see some band. I forget the name."
He couldn't help himself. "Should I be worried? I won't see you until Easter. That gives her plenty of time to change her mind and work her charm on you." It took all his willpower not to smile. Or to wag his eyebrows.
"Honestly, Charlie!" He knew she exaggerated the r in his name on purpose. "You know she's not like that! She's always known I'm madly in love with you. There's no one else for me – no man, woman, or anyone else on the spectrum."
He had meant to continue teasing her, but what she said touched his heart.
"It's the same for me," he said with feeling. "Always."
Two weeks later, he went home to Yorkshire for the weekend. As much as he wanted to see Elsie, he knew his family wanted to see him as well. On Saturday afternoon he went to his grandfather's house for tea.
"Charles Ernest!" Granddad smiled and opened the door wide. He gestured for his grandson to come in. "Get in from the rain, lamb."
Charles removed his dripping coat and hung it up next to the door. The term of endearment made his throat close up. As did the warm scent of something baking hitting him in the face. Both reminded him of his gran.
She did rub off on Granddad. Eventually.
"Your mum rang and said you'd be here in time for tea," Charles Ronald Carson, known by most as Ronnie, said. "I made summat for ye. It's not bad, if I do say so myself. And if I did burn it a little, there's always your favorite."
The familiar tin of chocolate biscuits on the table made his grandson smile. "I'll get the tea, while you get the other things," he said to Granddad, and busied himself with the kettle. The older man carefully pulled out a small cake from the oven.
"Your gran used to make this. Mine's not as good as hers, but I eat it all the same."
"It smells delicious," Charles said, spooning sugar into their cups. They sat and talked a little while about all sorts of things. The soggy local cricket ground, which Granddad worried over even more than he did. Charles's friends and goings-on at Magdalene. Charles was impressed by his grandfather's memory. He asked after Peter, Mei, Sybil and Tom, as well as Richard, Robert, and several other friends.
"And how's your bonnie lass?" Granddad set down his cup with a twinkle in his eye. His grin made the dimple in his chin stand out even more.
Charles couldn't help his own grin. It meant everything that his family loved Elsie. Granddad had been smitten with her from the first time he'd met her.
"She's doing well. Working very hard, of course, but she does have fun from time to time. She's visiting Anna this weekend, helping celebrate her birthday."
"When will you see her again?"
"Easter." Charles let out a sigh. They hadn't seen each other in person since February. "I'm going to Scotland, and then we'll come here. So you'll see her, too."
"Good. The last time she was here I told her about your gran and I, and how we used to dance around the kitchen." Granddad's face was wistful. "I told her how she reminded me of your gran in some ways – not in looks, o' course – your gran had dark hair when she was young - but her nature. Never sits still, that girl, and neither did Nellie." He gestured at Charles's empty plate, and at the thin slice of cake that was left. "If you're still hungry, you can have it. Otherwise, I can make you some toast if you like-"
"No, thank you," Charles held up his hands. "Save the rest of the cake for later. I'm full, but I'll make more tea if you'd like some more."
As he filled the kettle again, he glared at the ancient monstrosity that was Granddad's toaster. He didn't know how old it was, only that he'd never been able to use it without burning bread. Once he'd nearly singed his eyebrows off. His grandparents had had it forever, and after Gran died, his grandfather had refused to get rid of it.
The first time Elsie used it, the toast came out a little brown, but it was otherwise edible.
That thing hates me.
Of course she WOULD figure it out! Another reason why Granddad loves her.
Ronnie had gotten up from the table. As Charles refilled their cups, he could hear him rummaging in the sitting room.
"Ah, thank you, lad," the old man set a small wooden box the size of a book on the table and sat down. He sighed. "This damp gets into my bones. Only tea can chase it away." He took a long sip from his cup and set it down. Folding his hands, he gave his grandson an almost stern look.
"What?" Charles asked. It had been ages since he'd gotten in trouble at Granddad's house, but the look he gave him made him feel as though he was.
"How serious are you about Elsie?"
The question took Charles aback. "Very serious."
"Hmm," Granddad studied his gnarled fingers. "Are you going to marry her? Lots of people nowadays don't."
"I…" On the one hand, the question was very simple. As was the answer.
But Charles had yet to tell anyone what he thought, not his parents or any of his friends. Though he had come close to saying something to Richard.
He let out a breath and looked his grandfather in the eye. "Yes. If she'll have me."
The man's face relaxed. "I think she will. I've seen the way she looks at you. Some girls can fake it, but she's not that sort. She loves you, lad." He murmured softly. "I'm glad that you're wanting to marry her," he took another drink of tea. "Some folks say it doesn't matter if a couple gets married, but not me. I'm old-fashioned. If your gran was still alive, and we were your age, I'd still marry her. I hope," he picked at his thumbnail, "that you want to marry Elsie because you want to, not because your dad and mum want you to do it."
"I do," Charles said. "They haven't asked me about it yet. Not directly." I know Mum's been tempted more than once. He tried to collect his thoughts. "Part of my reasons are religious, but there's more to it than that." He suddenly felt his eyes burn. The clock ticked on the wall, reassuring him.
"I love her," he whispered. "I want to say it out loud in front of others, promise that I'll always be with her through thick and thin, and hear her say the same. Whether we repeat words in a church, or in a registry office, or somewhere else, it doesn't really matter to me. I want something real. Something true."
He'd never thought about it in depth, but as he heard himself speak, he knew he meant every word. He'd been over the moon when Elsie became his girlfriend, and their bond had only deepened after they'd become lovers nearly two years before.
But he wanted more than that now, he knew. More than just sharing a bed when they visited each other. Or moving in together, once they both finally lived in the same area. They were best friends. They trusted each other implicitly (despite teasing each other from time to time), and relied on each other more than anyone else, despite the long distance and sometimes long stretches of time in between visits.
And he was fairly certain that Elsie wanted more, too.
"Well, you couldn't make it any clearer. I'll say that for you. You're like your gran that way," Granddad took off his glasses and tapped them on the table. "And I know you'll ask Elsie when the time is right."
"Thanks," Charles swallowed a lump in his throat. He took a sip from his cup. "What's in the box?"
Granddad's eyes twinkled. "See for yourself, lamb."
Seventeen months later
Becky's high-pitched laugh echoed up the stairs, blending with the men's. Mam sighed from Elsie's bed. "It'll be hard to get her to go to bed tonight, but I'll make your Da do it. It serves him right – he was the one who got her laughing!"
Elsie grinned at Mam's reflection in her mirror as she put in an earring. "So did Charlie. You should force him to take a turn putting her to bed before he leaves."
She felt a pang at the thought of him going to London, and immediately chided herself for it.
I don't want to cast a pall over our last two days together.
"Ach, no," Mam shook her head. "He's spent so much time with Becky during his visit. I can hardly ask him to do more."
"I think you like him." Elsie straightened her blue blouse. "If I'd made Becky giddy like that, you'd make me stay home and put her to bed myself."
Da will have his hands full. She's thirteen years old and very strong-willed.
Like someone else I know.
Mam slid her feet over the side of the bed and onto the floor. "I do like him. I love him too," the corner of her lips turned up. "Not in the same way you do, of course."
"I should hope not!" Elsie dabbed on a little lipstick. She and Charles were only going to Inveraray for dinner, but she wanted to look nice.
She hesitated, then grabbed an old hoodie. The August nights were warm, but just in case...
"Where's my purse – oh, there it is," she muttered to herself. It had fallen off the bed onto the floor. Picking it up, she slipped her lipstick into it. The bed creaked as Mam got up. She sniffed.
"Mam?" Elsie asked, seeing her mother wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. "Are you okay?"
Mam laughed and shook her head. She tucked an errant grey hair back from her face. It stood out against her mostly dark locks. "Oh, I'm just being silly. You've grown into a woman, but it feels like five minutes ago you were walking down the lane with your Da to your first day of school."
Elsie gave her a hug. "I'll always be your wee girl. No matter how old I am. I don't feel twenty, you know. And you don't look like someone with a twenty-year-old!"
Da had told her Mam had started fussing over the number of grey hairs she'd been finding. Both he and Elsie agreed that Ainsley Hughes was beautiful, no matter how old she was. Elsie hoped she looked half as good as her mother when she neared fifty.
Laughing, Mam kissed her on the cheek. "You're sweet." She gave Elsie another squeeze. "Now, we'd better go downstairs before Charlie thinks you don't want to go."
At the bottom of the stairs, they found Da, Becky, and Charles clustered together. Becky was doing one of her favorite things – playing Pat-A-Cake.
"'Gin!" Becky giggled as they finished. It was hard for those other than family and her teachers to understand her, but Charles had been able to communicate with her well since he'd first met her.
"Just one more time," Da said, glancing at his wife and oldest daughter. "Then we need to let Charlie and Elsie go to dinner."
"Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man…" Charles and Becky went through the whole rhyme, finishing with "and put it in the oven for BECKY and me!" Everyone cheered and clapped. Da wound an arm around Mam's waist.
Charles felt Elsie's eyes on him. He returned her smile, but was distracted by her appearance. She was beautiful just wearing jeans and a simple blouse. He swallowed hard.
"That color brings out the highlights in your eyes," he murmured. She blushed, aware of her family standing right there.
"Thank you." The blue shirt was one of her favorites. "You look very nice, too." He looked good in everything, of course (including kilts), but she enjoyed seeing him less formal in his light brown trousers and green shirt.
He took her into his arms and kissed her lightly on the lips. She relaxed, beyond grateful that he was comfortable with her family – and that her parents didn't seem to mind their open affection. She and Charles had been dating for five years, but it had only been in the last couple of years that they had felt free enough to display it.
She had often thought since that she had been unnecessarily worried.
Mam and Da understand.
"Sisi!" Becky cannoned into her side, breaking her embrace with Charles. "Pat-a-cake!"
She stumbled backwards a couple of steps, pushed backwards by her sister. Becky was stronger than she knew. "Tomorrow," she smoothed her hands over Becky's back. "I promise we'll play again tomorrow, but now Charlie and I have to go. We'll see you in the morning." She gave Becky a fond kiss.
Da gently pried the girl off Elsie. "Let her go, lass," he ruffled her hair. He and Mam held both of her hands. Becky was very affectionate, but she didn't know when to stop. "Have fun," he grinned. "We'll keep a light on in here for when you get back."
"Be careful," Mam warned, but she smiled when the younger couple exchanged glances. "I'm a mother, I have to tell you that-"
"We know," they said together. Elsie picked up her hoodie where she'd dropped it on the stairs.
"You shouldn't worry. Charlie's driving, he's more cautious than I am."
"Thank God," Da laughed and scratched the stubble on his chin. "It's fine driving out here in the country, but in town there's more people."
Elsie rolled her eyes. She'd heard it all a thousand times before. "I got into one tiny accident in Inveraray, and ever since then you act like I'm the worst driver in the country. You haven't ridden in a car when Beryl's driving!"
Charles shuddered. "What a disturbing thought. I never have, but I've heard enough from you and Anna to know I never want to be in a vehicle with her behind the wheel."
They said their goodbyes and headed outside. The sky was still light.
After a short ride, they arrived in Inveraray.
The George was full of tourists and travelers. They would have had to wait for a table, but to Elsie's surprise, Charles had made a reservation.
"You didn't have to do that!" She said to him as they were led to a table in a large room next to the bar. "I thought we were just going to have a quiet dinner." The table was decorated with two lit candles, and had a fine view of the outside.
"We are. But I do like to spoil you a little, when I can," he grinned, pulling her chair back. She blushed and sat down, self-consciously checking her hair.
"I should have worn something nicer-"
"'Should' nothing, Elsie," he sat down. "You look beautiful. Am I wearing a suit and tie? No." His eyes twinkled. "And you know if we were going to someplace formal I would've told you."
She let out a breath, laughing. "Very true. You are a stickler for protocol. Sometimes I think you were born in the wrong century. I've thought that since we were at school."
"I'm glad I wasn't born earlier," he said seriously, perusing the wine list. "I would have missed meeting you."
Her heart melted. As fussy as he could be (he'd relaxed since they'd been together), he had a habit of saying the sweetest things.
"I love you," she managed to say through a lump in her throat.
How am I going to say goodbye to him again?
The two years she had left at the University of Glasgow felt interminable. He wouldn't be much further away than he had been, going from Cambridge to London, but she knew he was going to be working hard at his BPTC.* He'd barely have enough time to breathe.
"I love you, too."
She recovered her composure studying the menu, and more when their wine arrived.
"Mmm, this is excellent," she commented, swirling the dark red liquid in her glass.
Expecting him to go into a lecture on different kinds of wine, she was surprised when he only smiled and took another drink.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Oh," he breathed, leaning back and tapping his fingers on the edge of the table. "I keep thinking about the future. My course…how I'll do."
"Are you nervous? You'll be brilliant. They gave you a scholarship for a good reason." She took his hand. He squeezed it, glad of her strength.
"Not nervous exactly," he said, hoping she didn't prod him further. She always knew how he was feeling. Sometimes it was comforting.
But tonight, he hoped he could keep her off track.
"It's going to be a big change, going to London. Starting over. You know it's hard for me to meet new people. Peter, Mei, and Sybil will be nearby, but they'll be busy with internships and school. I'll be busy, too. And I can't rely on them entirely to provide a social life for me."
"No, but Peter especially will want to spend time with you when you both have a chance," Elsie reminded him. "You're one of his best friends, you know. He was serious at graduation when he said he didn't want to lose contact with you."
"I know. I wish you could go with me," he sighed. "Then I know I'd be fine."
"I'd go with you if I could, you know that," she whispered. "Someday, we will live in the same place again."
They moved onto other topics, neither of them keen to dwell on their impending separation. Becky. Da's new job, working with his brother. John Bates's plans to enter Sandhurst after he graduated from Manchester. Cora and Robert moving to Paris together.
Richard and Isobel, and their adorable daughter Mairin.
"Did you see the video Richard posted?" When Charles shook his head, his mouth full of fillet steak, Elsie pulled out her phone and found it. "She's walking – look!"
"She was close when we were there last week," he smiled, watching the fair-haired girl take several wobbly steps from her father to her mum. He shook his head and handed the phone back to Elsie. "Even staying in the house with them, it still seems incredible that they have a child."
"And another due in December," Elsie reminded him. "Isobel said she hopes she'll get over the shock by Bonfire Night…she said she doubts the students will let her forget."
"Is she disappointed she's going to be missing work again?" Charles scraped his plate. "She said she's not, but Richard told me he worries she's upset about having children so close together, what it will do to her career."
"While she's worried about him, being away from her and the baby while he continues his training. That he regrets their marriage and that they should have waited until he was finished with his Foundation training at least. I told her that she's being ridiculous, and that he doesn't regret a thing, but I'm not sure she believed me."
"She should," Charles said. "He adores her and the baby. Both babies. He's very happy he'll be able to help with them around Christmas."
"I'm sure they'll work it out between them." Sighing, Elsie finished her glass of wine. "They've had more to deal with than most couples. If anyone can endure school, careers, children, and living apart for weeks on end, they can."
"Richard said he'll sleep when he's dead."
Elsie snorted in laughter. "That sounds like him. I don't know when he sleeps now, not with working all hours. And then when he does get to go home for a few days, he hardly rests because he wants to spend as much time as possible with his girls."
"He's had a gift for sleeping on command ever since we were in school," Charles set down his fork and knife. "Once before a cricket match, I'd gone over the strategy, and we had a few minutes before we had to go out. Richard went to sleep with his head against the wall. Tommy Barrow only had to say his name once, and he blinked, stood up, and picked up his bat as though he'd just had his eyes closed. But he'd been snoring!"
"I've missed seeing you sleep," Elsie said, rather wistful. "Mam and Da have known about…us for a while, but I didn't feel like arguing with them when they said you'd sleep downstairs."
"I'm glad you didn't." Charles was relieved. That would have been a disaster. "I mean, I miss you too, but it's not worth getting into a fight with your parents. Our relationship is not all about sex…as much as I enjoy it with you," he wagged his eyebrows at her just to make her smile. "You are coming to London in three weeks. And we were together when we were at Richard and Isobel's last week."
"That was nice of them to put us in the guest room together. Though it was awkward for them and for us – they knew we were in the house, and we knew they were there!"
Elsie would never tell Charles, but Isobel had confided that when she was pregnant, her libido was stronger than normal.
"The worst part was running into Isobel in the hall on my way back from the bathroom." Charles shook his head. "Both of us trying to avoid each other's eyes, scurrying back to our respective bedrooms-"
"And both of you well aware of what had been going on right before then. It's a wonder none of us woke Mairin!"
They both laughed, not worried about anyone overhearing them. The room where their table was had filled up while they ate, and was nearly full. A live band played from the bar. Some people had gotten up to dance nearby.
"I should tell you, so you know," Charles began, wiping his eyes. "Your father said something to me Tuesday morning when we were working on his car. About you and I." His ears turned red.
"What did he say?" Elsie was curious. It had taken her almost two years for her to tell Mam that she and Charles were intimate. Her mother had given her a short lecture on safety and responsibility, then let the matter rest. Elsie knew Mam had told Da, but he had never said anything directly to her – not that she had expected him to.
"Well," Charles scratched the back of his neck. "He asked me point blank if I used protection."
Water almost spurted out of Elsie's mouth. "Wha-at?" she set her glass down and covered her face. "Oh my god, I can't believe he asked that to your face-"
Her father was usually direct. But not about something as delicate as sex.
"You're his daughter. I don't blame him for asking. When I told him of course I did, that I cared about you and felt responsible for my part of the relationship, he looked relieved. I didn't tell him that you've been responsible for your part, too," he hastily said. "I thought that would be too much information for him."
Pressing her lips together, Elsie nodded. "I know why he asked. Did I tell you about Joe Burns?"
"Yeah. And what's-her-name."
"Mariah. She's due in October."
"You said you saw Joe before he left Glasgow, right?"
"I did," she admitted. She took another sip of water, a smaller one. "He said he was looking forward to moving to the flat, and getting ready for the baby, but that he'd miss being at the university. He was hoping to be the first person in his family to graduate. Now, who knows?"
"That's too bad." Charles understood the pressure. His father had gotten some technical training when he was younger, but had never gone to university. Neither had his mum. "Anyway," he went on, not wanting to talk about Joe anymore, "Your father also said he was very proud of you."
Sweet Da. "That's nice of him. Did he say anything else?"
"No," he said quickly, taking a drink of water from his own glass. "You know him better than I do. He gets straight to the point when he has something to say. He's not one for small talk."
"Very true." Her eyes wandered to the dancing couples near them. The music wasn't as loud as in the bar, but it carried into the larger room just fine. The live band finished their song. After the applause, they began another.
"That singer's not quite James Arthur," Charles said, breaking Elsie from her reverie.
"Never mind…I like this song," she smiled at him.
"Which part? The line about throwing up?"
"Ugh, no," she wrinkled her nose. "But we did meet 'in the dark' that night at Downton, and 'you lit me up'…"
He got up and held out his hand, making up his mind all at once. "Will you dance with me?"
"I was hoping you'd ask." Her eyes twinkled.
It was one of his favorite things, and hers. She fit into his arms perfectly.
They didn't do anything fancy, just swayed along to the music. She hummed.
The fairy lights glowed above them on the ceiling.
I met you in the dark
You lit me up
You made me feel as though
I was enough…
He hoped his hands didn't sweat, and give him away.
I knew I needed you
But I never showed
But I wanna stay with you
Until we're grey and old
Just say you won't let go…
"I'm very selfish," he murmured. She lifted her head from his chest. He looked down at her, his face solemn.
Except for that dark curl that never behaved itself.
"What do you mean?"
"It's not enough for me to spend time with you every few weeks," he caressed his fingers across her cheek, letting his thumb kiss the corner of her mouth. "I want to be with you all the time."
It didn't surprise her that their impending separation was weighing on him.
"I know," she said softly. "I want that too. That hardly makes either of us selfish."
I'm so in love with you
And I hope you know
Darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold
We've come so far my dear
Look how we've grown
And I wanna stay with you
Until we're grey and old…
"Do you remember after my graduation, when I said I was going with Robert and John?"
"Yes," she blinked. She wondered what that had to do with their conversation. He seemed scattered-brained, not like himself at all.
"I didn't go to Spain. I lied. We hadn't planned any holiday."
"Oh?" She was utterly baffled. Why would he say that, if he didn't mean it?
He came to a complete stop, and she stopped with him.
It was all he could do to keep his breathing even. He was glad there were three or four couples dancing; they weren't as conspicuous standing in the corner.
"I stayed an extra day in Cambridge. Your parents were very kind to come all that way just for my graduation, and I wanted to thank them properly. And…" he took a deep breath, letting go of her waist and taking her hand. "Their train didn't leave until that night. They didn't take the early train, like you thought, because they knew I wanted to talk to them. About you."
His voice, as ever, made her feel like she was going to melt into a puddle. He looked at her as though she was the only person in the room.
The only person in the world.
Her heart beat so fast it was almost a flutter. She bit her lip, more to keep herself from saying anything, while inside her head, she was doing cartwheels.
She couldn't feel the floor beneath her feet.
"There's never been anyone but you," he whispered. "Really, ever since the day you found me in the rain by the football pitch at Downton. That's when I first loved you. I'll never stop."
Am I hearing this right?
Yes. Yes, you are.
He got down on one knee. Tears came to her eyes, and she had a mad desire to laugh and cry at the same time.
Of course he'd be traditional.
This is happening this is REALLY happening oh my god ohmygodohmygodohmygod
She did not think it possible to love him any more than she could at that moment.
"Elsie Hughes, will you marry me?"
Nodding, she was overcome with emotion. "Yes," she managed to say. "Yes, Charles, I'll marry you, yes, yes-"
The room blurred. He pulled a ring out of his pocket and slipped it on her finger. She saw it glimmer in the dim light, but at the moment the man in front of her was far more important.
He was hers, for now and forever.
He stood up and she jumped into his arms. They kissed, him spinning slowly, oblivious to everyone else watching.
I wanna live with you
Even when we're ghosts
'Cause you were always there for me
When I needed you most
I'm gonna love you til
My lungs give out
I promise till death we part
Like in our vows
Just say you won't let go
Just say you won't let go…
"You've made me the happiest man on the planet," he said before his lips captured hers again. His voice broke. "God, I'm so happy. I love you." He gently set her down and they stood with their arms around each other, their heads together.
"I love you, too." Every part of her body was tingling. She felt electric. Giddy, almost. But in her heart she felt a certain calm.
Like she was finally home.
The sound of soft clapping reached their ears. Charles grinned bashfully at the smiling faces around them. "Thank you," he murmured to a man who said congratulations.
Elsie didn't mind the attention from others. It wasn't excessive. She nodded thanks at a white-haired couple sitting at the table next to theirs.
"Did you tell the band to play this song?" Elsie whispered, humming against his mouth. "Right now, at this time?"
"I didn't plan it that way, no," he murmured. "It's just a happy coincidence. Now," he grinned, kissed her on the top of her head and stepped back, putting one hand on her shoulder and the other on her waist. "I'd like to continue our dance, if you don't mind."
She took a breath and laughed, even while tears were in her eyes. "You were the one to stop dancing! And now you're telling me in no uncertain terms to shut up and dance with you!"
They both remembered their first dance, and their first song.
Kissing her hand, he swayed to the music. "I'd never be so rude, or be so stupid as to tell you to shut your mouth," he cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sorry I stopped earlier?"
"You booby, of course I'm not," she sighed, relishing the feel of his arms around her.
"I should have asked them to play 'Shut Up and Dance,'" Charles joked. "I feel like jumping around the room as it is."
He felt more alive, for lack of a better word, than he had ever felt before.
This is the beginning of the rest of my life. Our life.
Together.
"I know," she giggled. "It's like I'll float to the ceiling, if you weren't holding onto me!"
They kept dancing, just enjoying the moment. She was very surprised that he had been able to surprise her like that.
"I thought you would go for a formal evening," she admitted. "And take me somewhere like the May Ball. I never thought you'd propose while we were here."
"Which was my goal," he smirked. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to plan something like this without you finding out? The more people that knew, the more I worried that someone would slip-"
"Who else knew besides Mam and Da? Your parents, I assume."
"And Granddad. He was so excited," Charles grinned, remembering. He leaned down and kissed her nose. "He's been waiting for this."
"I can't wait to see him," she said, feeling a surge of warmth for the old man.
"Good. Because he wants to know what you think of the ring."
She lifted her left hand from his shoulder to get a better look at it. It fit her perfectly. "That isn't a diamond, is it?" There was a small center stone, with smaller ones on either side.
"The one in the middle is a sapphire," he said. "With diamonds on either side. I know, it's hard to see in here."
She liked the way it looked on her hand. It looked nothing like most of the engagement rings she'd seen. It was intricate, delicate. Sapphires were her favorite stone (not that she had ever thought about it in depth, but she loved blue).
"It's perfect for me," she raised herself on her toes and kissed him. "It's lovely – did your grandfather help you pick it out?"
Picturing the two of them ring shopping was adorable.
"He gave it to me," he smiled widely at her stunned expression. "It belonged to my Gran…he had bought it for her on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary."
"He didn't have to give it to you," she said in awe. "Maybe your grandmother wanted one of your aunts to have it."
Charles shook his head. "She said when I was twelve that it was mine, to give to my future wife. She was quite insistent that I give it to the right woman, though," he remembered. "She told me, 'Lamb, don't go giving it to the first girl to catch your eye! Remember, love is patient.'"
"Wise woman," Elsie mused. "I wish I could have met her."
He swallowed hard. "Me too."
"Who else knew you were going to propose?" She asked, not wanting him to feel sad.
"John. In case you tried to contact me during the fake holiday. I didn't trust Robert."
He couldn't wait to call both of his friends.
"Naturally." She was grateful.
"But that means it's highly likely that Anna knows. That was almost two months ago," Charles extended his arm to let her twirl underneath. "I don't think John could keep a secret from her for that long. Oh, and Richard and Isobel know, of course."
"Of course!" She cried. She huffed under her breath, both pleased and annoyed that one of her closest friends knew something she didn't. Even if it was for a good reason. "She'll have to make it up to me!"
"Actually, I thought in a way this is paying her back," he laughed. "She told you about her and Richard's engagement before she told anyone else."
"Violet knew." Elsie raised her eyebrows.
He mirrored her expression. "She didn't tell her cousin, Violet guessed what had happened. That doesn't count."
"I hope you've avoided Downton this summer, then," she teased. "Otherwise she would've guessed you were going to propose just by looking at you."
"She hasn't been there. She's been in the Mediterranean. Isobel mentioned it. That's different for her, she usually stays in the UK during the holidays…"
"Maybe she has a boyfriend." Elsie laughed under her breath. "She's not bad-looking, and she's been a widow for a loooooong time."
"Ha ha," Charles said drily, rolling his eyes. He couldn't help laughing himself at her silliness. "Whatever her love life, all I care about right now," he chortled, catching his breath, "is that you're my fiancée."
Just saying it out loud made his heart feel like it was going to explode with joy.
Her eyes glittered beneath the tiny light lights dancing above them. "And that you're mine."
The music went on around them as they kissed.
Before they reached the long road back to the Hughes home, Charles turned off the main road and shut the car off. They got out and sat on the bonnet. It was warm, and stars appeared through the clouds overhead, but otherwise it was dark.
Neither of the couple noticed.
"Charlie…" Elsie breathed against his ear as she straddled his lap. His big hands slid down her back, over her bum, and along her legs. She moaned.
"I can stop, if you want to," he murmured against her neck. It would be difficult – very difficult - but not impossible.
But the way she felt against him was incredible. He could kiss her forever.
And they had so little opportunity for that, or for anything more…
"Wait," she gasped after several more minutes of frenzied kissing. Charles stopped fumbling with her bra. His shirt was on the windshield, and hers dangled from one of the side mirrors. "Wait," she repeated, shifting her weight back. She ran a hand through her hair. It was wild. "We can't do this. Not here." She bit her lip, very glad of the darkness. "Unless you have…protection."
He could tell from her posture that her face must be as red as his, recalling their earlier conversation. "Um," he cleared his throat, trying not to let the moment slip away, "As a matter of fact, I do."
He silently thanked Richard for convincing him to bring extras along.
A laugh bubbled out of Elsie's throat. "Thank God," she muttered. She leaned in to kiss him again. His tongue slide over hers. "Mmm," she hummed, tasting his lower lip.
He is such a good kisser. And he is mine.
He cupped her face in his hands. "Let's go someplace more comfortable, shall we?"
"Where?" she asked, her mind hazy. They slid off the bonnet and he led her around the car. "We can't go in the house."
He opened the passenger side door and put down the seat. Even in the dim light, she could see a wicked grin on his face. "Do you want to be on top, or should I?"
Her heart almost stopped. Him, wearing nothing but his trousers, his belt unbuckled. His thumbs hooked in his pockets.
"Mr. Carson." It came out like a purr. He almost lost his composure on the spot. "This behavior is not very becoming of a future barrister, or a former Head Boy at Downton School."
"No," he agreed. "But I hope that it's behavior acceptable as your future husband."
How can his voice DO that to me?
"Fortunately it is," she said, straightening her shoulders. "Get in the car."
"You sound like a Head Girl," he teased, obeying. He'd yet to tell her, but he rather liked being bossed around by her during sex. He was fairly sure she knew that. "Anything else you want me to do?" He laid down on the reclined seat, draping his long arms above him. He grunted when she climbed on top of him.
"Yes," she breathed, removing his belt. He stopped breathing when she took off her bra. She tossed it onto the driver's seat and leaned forward until they were skin on skin. "Make love to me."
"God, I love you," he moaned. He began trailing a line of light kisses along her shoulder to her collarbone. "My fiery lass, my bride to be."
I never would have ended up with a Head Girl, or anyone I was supposed to.
She had always forged her own way, unafraid, and he was eternally grateful she wanted him.
"There," she ran her fingers into his hair as he pushed her up to lavish attention on her breasts. "Oh god, there."
It was times like these that she didn't know how she got so lucky. He could have had anyone, but he chose her.
He sucked on the soft loveliness that was her nipples, keeping the touch of his lips light. He knew she loved to be teased, and from the sound of her voice spiraling, he was well on his way to making her happy.
"Oh my god," she sucked in a breath. The friction of their bodies moving against each other, his warm hands on either side of her torso, his mouth his tongue-
She let out a cry. "I'm going to come like this if you don't stop-" she gasped. Her hips moved of their own accord.
"Do." His voice was muffled, buried in between her breasts.
With extreme effort, she pulled herself from his embrace. She forgot they were in his rental car, and she hit the back of her head on the low ceiling, but even that only broke her concentration for an instant. She raised herself as much as she could on her knees. Fumbling, with shaking fingers, she unzipped her jeans, and managed to peel them from herself.
They were thrown onto the driver's seat. Followed by her underwear.
She took off her shoes. And for good measure, took his off, too.
"I need you. God, please," she trembled, almost crying. She lowered herself onto him again and kissed him on the mouth, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Please."
He kept one hand on the small of her back. The other followed the curve of her bum and traveled between her legs. All the while he kissed her neck. Along her jaw.
Slow.
"Touch me, god, yes, mo ghraidh," she begged, incoherent. The hair on his chest brushed against her breasts, but it was the feel of his mouth at her ear and his fingers stroking her that drove her crazy.
So good him touch good y-y-y-e-e-e-e-e-s-s-s-s
Her voice was loud in the enclosed space. High screams, her body arching above him.
He gave and gave and gave, loving the sounds of her shattering. It was so dark he could barely make out her silhouette. Her hair brushed his face.
"Mmmm," she sighed, panting hard, her mouth against his shoulder. He caressed her back while she kissed him. Trying not to move too much, he lifted his hips and dug out a small package from his pocket, then unzipped his jeans.
His pleasure was obvious.
She blinked slowly, and raised herself on her hands and knees, her face just above his. She ran her fingers down from his chest to his abdomen and further. Feeling his warm, almost hot skin. His strong muscles as he yanked off his trousers and boxers.
For some reason, she loved his legs. The hair on them, contrasted with the smoothness of her own.
"Can you-" he handed her the package. She took it from him, and told herself to be careful. The very last thing either of them wanted was for her to tear it.
Her fiancé was in no condition to open the package himself. He fell back onto the reclined seat and thrust his hands into his hair, his chest heaving, his breathing louder than hers. "Shit, Elsie, please hurry, god I need you now-"
Her steady fingers worked their magic, and a moment later they were fully together.
He shouted. The sound was almost painful in her ears, but he felt so good she didn't care.
His mind went blank. There was nothing but her, feeling touch taste pleasure desire, god her more more HER HER HER
Hardness melded into softness, black hair with red.
Had anyone been walking in the countryside nearby, they would have been able to hear a woman's muffled keening and a man's deep voice bellowing from inside the car.
Fortunately for the lovers, no one heard them.
She lay sprawled on top of him, her hair and skin damp. Sweat glistened on his chest and beaded on his forehead.
"I love you," he murmured as they kissed one more time. "But I can't breathe in here…"
She was having difficulty herself. The air was stifling.
Elsie managed to open the car door. Cool night air rushed into the space. She ran her hand along her cheek, feeling its heat. She barked out a laugh as she glanced back at the windshield.
"That looks like the car in fucking Titanic. Without a handprint." It was completely steamed up.
"It's way better than that," he sat up and pulled on his boxers as she slid into the driver's seat. "We're nowhere close to the north Atlantic, or an iceberg right now, either."
They put their clothes back on and returned to sitting on the bonnet. They left the passenger side and driver's side doors open. Charles wanted to air out the car. It smelled like sex, he said.
"It smells like you," Elsie nudged him. She lifted his arm that was draped around her shoulders and kissed his wrist. "What, you don't think the next person who rents it will approve of the scent?"
They talked about telling family and friends about their engagement. Ordinarily, both would have wanted to start calling people immediately, but it was so late they thought it best to wait until the morning.
And both of them were rather glad to have the secret just to themselves for at least a night.
"We'll have to wait," Charles murmured against her temple. "To get married. Until after you graduate. Unless you want to be like Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson."
"I'd marry you tomorrow, if I knew it meant we could be together," Elsie sighed. "But I'd rather wait until I know we can live together all the time. Richard and Isobel's situation was different. That was them. Our wedding should be about us. Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes."
"Mmmm," Charles sat up, pulling her back against his chest. "What do you want our wedding to be like? And where? My family's mostly in Yorkshire, yours is in Scotland. Our friends are scattered all over."
"I don't know." Elsie didn't feel particularly like figuring out details at the moment. She was content to enjoy the quiet night around them. "Are you set on it being a church wedding? I'm fine with it being in a church, or somewhere else. I'm not picky."
"What do you want?" He persisted.
She blew air through her nose. "I really don't know. I could see it being somewhere here. The George hosts weddings too, you know. Only certain times during the year, though. Not in the summer. Or we could get married in Yorkshire. Your grandfather would like that – we could get married in the church where he and your gran got married."
"That would be sweet," he said. "But that would mean making your family travel."
"Either way, one of our families will have to travel. But we don't have to get married in Yorkshire or Scotland. We're not confined to that." She grinned at him. "You'd love the south of France. All the wine…"
"And you've wanted to go to America ever since Cora invited you there," he scratched the back of his neck, grinning. "What's the name of that place where her parents have a summer home? Newport?"
"India!" Elsie cried, holding her arms up. "That's it! Imogen's sister's best friend got married there last year…you should see the pictures! Days of celebrations, the bright colors, the dancing…"
"And the heat," Charles started to laugh. "All right, India it is."
"Daft man," she touched his face. "As wonderful as that would be, neither of us could do that to our families. Most of our friends wouldn't be able to go. Peter, definitely. Robert would be there of course; he'd go to Tasmania if you told him that's where the party was. But Becky can't really go much farther than France. And by then Richard and Isobel will have two little ones."
"If not more, at the rate they're going." He gave her a squeeze. "Well, you'll have to think about it. But really – I'll marry you anywhere. Whatever you want, we'll make it happen."
"Thank you," she whispered, kissing him on the cheek.
They drove back to Elsie's childhood home. A light was visible in the front room, beckoning them inside. Just like Da had promised.
Charles kissed her once more before she tiptoed upstairs to her bedroom. No noise came from Mam and Da's room, and Becky snored on the other bed across from hers.
Maybe it wouldn't make sense to most people, getting engaged and married so young. But they wanted to spend their lives together. Why wait?
Not that Elsie cared much what anyone thought.
She cried out of sheer joy, tucked into bed. The feel of the ring on her hand made the night that much more real.
For the rest of our lives.
He couldn't stop smiling, and wondered if he'd be able to go to sleep.
Forever.
*BPTC – Bar Professional Training Course. Further education to become a barrister in the U.K. (Disclaimer: I don't really know anything about the process except what I've read on the internet, so please don't take me as an expert.)
*The song that's playing while they're at The George in Inveraray is James Arthur's "Say You Won't Let Go". It's my most recent favorite Chelsie song.
*Thanks to ericajanebarry, our resident Richobel expert, who let me use a name for their daughter. It's perfect! Thank you!