A./N.: Things are slowly heating up for our favourite couple. Hope you enjoy it. Drop me a line if you want.
CHAPTER 4
A knock on her door jolted Elsie out of her misery. Sighing inwardly, she resigned herself to let in whoever Mrs Patmore had sent up to check on her. Really, it was small miracle that she had been left alone for so long without someone to knock down her door. Maybe her maids had been overjoyed at not being supervised by the fierce Scottish Dragon for once, a dark part of her muttered.
"Come in," she called softly, not even contemplating to rise from her seat by the window. Her voice didn't sound much like her normal voice, somehow it was hollow and strained as if talking required more effort than usual. Still gazing out of the window, she didn't see who entered her room. She only heard the door opening and closing, then a long pause while she waited for the seemingly evitable scolding for shirking her duty.
Charles was struck speechless by her unguarded beauty. His heart went out to her. She looked so small and vulnerable, quiet unlike her usual stern self. It was an image he was sure would stick with him for eternity. If possible he fell more in love with her in this dark hour than in all the glorious ones when she was glowing with pride over a perfectly executed event.
"Elsie," he called softly, forgetting proper etiquette as he stepped away from the door further into her private room. His earlier apprehension had instantly evaporated upon seeing her pale complexion and slumped shoulders. He yearned to take her into his arms and comfort her, but he was also afraid to do so lest he lose control completely. Damn Barrow and his insinuations! Damn his own traitorous libido!
The voice calling her name so tenderly was undeniably male, it's owner daring to use her Christian name. Spinning around on her chair, Elsie was somewhat unsurprised, but also deeply unsettled, to see Mr Carson. 'Of course it would be him,' she thought bitterly. 'Of all the times to have him …' she blushed deeply at her own thoughts, abruptly cutting them off. Suddenly she became aware that she was still glad in only her nightgown, her long plait hanging down her back. Hastily she jumped up, trying to shield herself behind the inadequate cover of her hands, nearly tripped over the hem of her long, matronly nightgown. With a startled exclamation she fell forward, but never hit the floor. Instead she suddenly found herself leaning heavily against Mr Carson's chest. His proximity, especially after her unsettling dreams and her even more unsettling reaction to them, unnerved her greatly, sending shock waves of desire though her body. Her senses tingled and she was hyperaware of the man in whose arms she lay. Charles' intense gaze upon her made her gasp and wish for her dreams to come true.
Downton's stoic butler lost his first internal battle. Before today he had prided himself on his honour and integrity, as she had termed it, always able to withstand temptation; be it in the form of wealth or beauty. Today, though, marked the day when he fell before the feet of a fiery, petite, and beautiful Scotswoman. He just couldn't resist her and he felt no inclination to even try.
Acting without conscious thought and purely on primal instinct, Charles swept her up in his arms while hers instinctively went around his neck to prevent her from tumbling backwards with the sheer force of his embrace. He stroked her back, silently communicating to her that he was still her best friend and confident of many years, that she mustn't be afraid of him. Elsie was instantly reassured and buried her fingers in his hair. Pulling away, she tried to get a proper look at him. Their eyes met for a breathless moment, both smiling sweetly and a little shyly at each other, as heat surged through her body once again, making it impossible to think. Then his mouth was on hers, his breath warmly mingling with her own.
She had been kissed before, many, many years ago. Joe Burns, the most persistent and resent of her suitors, had done it a number of times before she turned down his proposal and entered service at Downton. A moment ago, she would have said that she liked kissing well enough, but didn't quite understand what all the fuss was about and why young maids should risk everything for it.
This was different. Liking it didn't begin to describe the torrent of emotions thundering in her body and heart. Hot sweetness raced from his lips through her body, making her tingle, making the breath come short in her lungs, making her knees watery. Powerful awareness of all the places their bodies touched – from his palms on her back to her breasts, belly and thighs crushed against his – made the blood pound in her veins.
Suddenly Charles took his mouth away.
"No," she whispered breathlessly, desperate for their nearness, and pulled him back. He was gentler this time, easing his lips carefully over hers, pulling away briefly, then returning. 'A good thing he's holding me up,' she thought giddily, 'Otherwise I'd fall over.'
In the end he pulled away with a strangled laugh and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her over to her bed. There he sat, cradling Elsie in his lap. "Thank God, you're not offended," he whispered, smoothing her curls away from her face. "I'd never want to upset you."
Added to her frantic, confusing, and self-deprecating thoughts, it was too much. She buried her face in his shirt so he wouldn't see the tears which trickled from her eyes. He seemed content to simply hold her in his arms, lips against her hair.