A/N: Thank you all for your reviews and opinions of this story! This is a Charles-only chapter. It was longer, but I don't want every chapter to turn into a 4,000+ word saga. Next chapter will be Elsie again.

The falling star bit...is for the Starman.

Clouds had filled the sky for most of the day. They broke apart long after midday, pouring light onto the rain-soaked fields. Charles blinked in the sunshine.

The warmth seeped into his bones. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

Thank you, Father of the Sky, for opening the clouds. Praise be to the Giver of Light, the Sun-God.

A ewe bawled. Ve looked up from his place beneath an elm. He glanced at Charles, who shook his head. The animal in question was pregnant, and he was anxious for her lambs to arrive. Like all those in his flocks, she wore a garland of dried purple crocuses, twisted together.

The flock was grazing quietly on a hill south of Charles's home. If he looked over his left shoulder, he could see the top of the oak tree in the distance, Elsie's hut hidden behind another hill. He sighed.

Four days. Four times the sun had risen and set since he had seen her.

And he could not stop thinking about her.

He knew it was unkind and cowardly of him to send Alfred and Andrew to check on the shepherdess; both lads had come back shaken. Alfred's face had been the same color as his hair. Andrew had been unable to say a word. But to go himself was something Charles could not risk. He was reassured when Alfred told him Elsie had been visited by Richard and Ivy as well.

A horse neighed from the road on his left, pulling a chariot that had stopped within sight of his land. Charles wondered if the animal had gone lame. Then he saw someone step from the chariot, and off the road. He shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun, his heart giving a great leap. He dropped his crook and ordered Ve to sit in place. A wide smile spread across his face.

The small figure began to run, and he towards her.

"Daisy!"

"Papa!"

His daughter sprinted towards him as fleet as a deer. She flew into his arms, and he swung her around in his arms before enveloping her in a hug.

"What, lass? I did not expect you for another two days!" He kissed her head as she clung to him. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Papa," her voice was muffled against his chest. Drawing back, she looked up at him, smiling so her dimples showed. "You look well."

"So do you," he touched her face. "You've grown since the last time I saw you." He could not believe how much she looked like Alice – her dark hair and light blue eyes mirrored her mother's. His heart twinged.

"Yes," she skipped, her arm around his waist as they walked back to the elm. "Mistress Penelope told me I will pass her by the end of the summer!" Her smile faded. Ve got up and trotted over to her, and she let him lick her hand.

"What is it?" Charles asked, picking his crook up again. Daisy tried to smile, but it did not reach her eyes.

"She's ill…that's why Master Bill sent me home early. He did not want you to worry," she said quietly.

Charles's heart clenched. He immediately put a hand on her forehead. "Is it the fever? Does Bill think you have it? I need to send for Richard-"

"Stop, Papa," she removed his hand from her head and squeezed it. "I feel fine. Please don't send for Richard. Anyway, he should be at their home by now. I passed him in his chariot when I was just to the village. Joseph was with him. They both sent greetings to you."

Letting out a breath, Charles held her hand. She seemed fine. Her cheeks were pink but not overly so. She had been walking since the morning.

"It is natural for me to worry about you," his voice came out gruff, but it did not disguise his affection. "You and your brother are everything to me."

She gave him another hug. "I know." She sighed. "I feel sorry for Joseph. He's worried about his mother."

"Of course he is," Charles murmured. He stroked her long, dark hair. He hated to think of what would happen if something happened to either her or Thomas.

Daisy ran down to the hut shortly thereafter to see May. The two returned a short time later with Alfred, carrying food and wine. Charles whistled for Andrew, who was on the opposite slope watching Elsie's flock. They all sat down to eat beneath the elm. The apprentices and Daisy talked nonstop; she had not been home since the quarter-moon.

It did surprise Charles a little that neither of the lads mentioned Elsie. He was not about to, doubting he would be able to speak of her without mortification. The young people exchanged stories of the village and the doings further north. Charles thought Daisy enjoyed teasing Alfred about Ivy.

"Please send my regards to Joseph when you return," Charles said the moment he had a chance. "How is he? Is he still helping Peter?" He was surprised his kind friend worked for the hardened wheelwright at all.

"He's well," Daisy said, her mouth full of bread. At a look from her father, she swallowed quickly. "And no, he's helping John at the forge now."

"That does not seem to suit the poor man," May said. "That hot, dirty, filthy place?" She shook her head. "If the world was just, Joseph would be a tutor in the king's palace. He taught you to read, Daisy, as well as others." She handed Charles a cup of wine.

"Just or not, at least John will be fair to him," Charles replied. "Which is more than can be said of Peter." He was pleased to think of John and Joseph working together. The two had been friends for years. On the other hand…no one thought well of Peter, with good reason. His poor wife.

"Oh! Daisy," Alfred interrupted. "I forgot – you've been to the palace! You went there with the weavers!"

"What was it like?" Andrew asked, his eyes wide. Daisy laughed.

"It's nothing like what you think," she elbowed Andrew playfully. "Not like the holy words about the halls of the gods. Hasn't Thomas ever told you?" The lads shook their heads. She rolled her eyes at them, sighing. "It's a great stone place. Mistress Penelope and I were shown into the queen's rooms. Big windows looking out on fields. Beautiful tapestries covering the walls. Servant girls holding cloth, and a lad in the corner playing the lyre."

"I feel sorry for him, sitting in a room with ladies all day," Alfred said with a snort. "I'd rather be tossed out the window, me." He brushed breadcrumbs off his hands.

Daisy pursed her lips. "He didn't seem to mind," she said, her cheeks suddenly flaming with color. "He had a lovely voice."

Charles jerked his head towards his daughter. "Did he? Who is this lad?"

"I never heard his name," Daisy said, blushing harder. "He sang well, that's all." She did not see Andrew's scowl.

"Hmph," her father mused, ignoring May's pointed look. "Did you see Thomas?"

"Yes, but only for a moment," the girl said quickly. "He looked well enough, but was in a rush to prepare for the king's return. We barely had time to say hello." She avoided her father's eyes. He did not notice.

"I have not had a message from your brother at all since he was home," Charles said softly to no one in particular.

May cleared the remnants of their meal, and Andrew went with her back to the hut to sleep. Alfred left to take the watch over Elsie's flock. Charles tossed Ve a bone, lost in thought about his son.

"Papa?" Daisy twirled the crook, sitting on the long grass, as the sun went down.

"Hmm?" He was far away.

"What do you think of the new shepherdess?"

Charles's heart skipped several beats. "W-why ask me about her?" His voice came out harsher than he meant it to. "Who was talking about me?" For the first time all day, I thought of other things, and the person to remind me of her is my own daughter!

Daisy wore a confused expression, and he did not blame her. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "What I mean is, who told you about Elsie?"

"Phyllis," she said. "Peter's wife. She saw me as I was passing through Downton and offered me some cheese. We talked for a while. She said she saw you drive by with her in Richard's chariot. And that Ivy had said she'd sprained her ankle, and you helped her. That's all."

Forcing himself to smile, Charles gestured for her to hand the crook to him. He relaxed a little at her news. Phyllis was a kind, amiable woman who deserved a much better husband than the one she had. She was also not a gossip. She would not make too much of the incident, and certainly not to Daisy.

"Elsie seems to be a nice woman," he said carefully. "I…do not know much about her, but I think she will be a good neighbor." One who I hope I will not see very often. For my own sake.

Twisting her hair in her fingers, Daisy stood up. "Would you mind if I visited her tomorrow? To meet her while I'm home?"

The stars were coming out above them. He sighed, leaned on the crook. "No, I have no objection. Go see her, but make sure to bring her something as a gift." Better she visit than me. Or the lads.

Daisy yawned and nodded, covering her mouth. "I will. I'm going to bed." She gave him a hug and kiss.

"Sleep well," Charles said. "Remember to say your prayers." He watched her walk down the hill to the hut, where an oil lamp was burning in the window.

He sighed as the night sky darkened. It was wonderful to have Daisy home, but he was not sure how she would feel when he told her he was going to visit Martha.

And what about Thomas?

"Oh Eala, guide me," he whispered, pulling his cloak around his shoulders. "Help me to do what is right for them, and not just for myself."

His breath was caught by the sight above him. A falling star streaked across the sky, followed by another. Then another. Charles pressed his fingers against his forehead, then dropped his hand with his palm up in tribute.

He had seen a similar display in the heavens years before. Then, he had taken it as a sign of approval of his marrying Alice. They had been engaged before Father had sailed into the storm that killed him. Charles's mother, grief-stricken, found it impossible to look after the flocks alone. He and Alice had agreed to wait to marry so that he could care for his mother and look after his parents' sheep.

Dying less than a year later, his mother gave her blessing for him to wed before she departed. But then it seemed the gods turned against him. A rare disease decimated the flock. Just when they recovered, the kingdom went to war and he was compelled to fight with Robert. Another two years were lost. When he returned, he found the shepherds he had hired were negligent. By then, Alice's father wanted to break off his daughter's betrothal.

The vision of falling stars helped convince him not to.

Charles and Alice had been married shortly after.

It was still quite early in the morning when he reached the village. He had left home when it was scarcely light outside.

He did not want there to be an audience when he visited the matchmaker.

"I knew you would be coming to see me." Martha wore a smile that could only be described as smug. It broadened when Charles glowered at her. "Now, there's no need to be upset, Charles. I only have your best interests at heart."

She invited him into her house, where embroidered tapestries hung on the walls. That was no surprise. Martha had long been the wife of a merchant, and due in large part to his wealth, Robert had married their only daughter, Cora. After her husband's death, Martha had become the matchmaker. Many suspected it was more for her own amusement than to help others. But there was no doubt she did well.

Charles wrinkled his nose at the sharp scent of incense. A servant boy took his crook while a girl poured wine. Martha gestured for him to sit on the wooden floor, across the low table from her.

"What can I do for you?" she asked, sipping her wine. "Only days ago, if you had come to see me, I would assume I needed to find a woman for you. I may yet have to, since you dawdled. You are not the first man to come to me about Elsie."

He spluttered, and almost spit wine out of his mouth. Swallowing it hastily, he glared at her. "I have not come here about the shepherdess," he said, his face warm. Martha raised her eyebrows. "I only just met her, and know hardly anything about her. I have merely come to ask for your assistance in finding a suitable wife. That is all."

"You surprise me, Charles," she said. "Every other man who has visited here recently has asked for Elsie. No one else. And you, the one who met her first, and by at least one account the only man to affect her, you ask me to find you a wife." She laughed.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'affect her'? I only helped her. Don't tell a story when there isn't one." Inside, his heart raced. Elsie could not possibly…like him. He had chased her, threatened to take her to the temple. When he had left her at her home, she had barely looked back at him. Surely she had not spent the last few days thinking of him. And certainly not in the way he thought about her.

Had she?

Martha pursed her lips. "It seems she asked Richard about you."

His heart skipped. He had to bite his lip to keep from asking anything more. Or to smile. Impossible. A woman like her, asking after me? "I am sure she was only being polite."

The matchmaker scrutinized him, playing with her jeweled necklace. "Are you sure you don't have a woman in mind?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "I trust your discernment in this matter." Above my own.

That woman makes me forget all my reason. There is more to marriage than lust. There must be.

"All right," she said reluctantly, folding her hands. "Is there anything you desire in a woman? I hardly need to tell you that there are many to choose from."

Charles scratched the side of his face. "I do not want a child as a bride. You know how old Thomas and Daisy are. They would never accept a girl as their stepmother. And I am not a young man anymore," he tapped his finger on the table. "My children need a mother's care. Try to find someone who will love them," he said quietly. "Also," he hesitated slightly, "if you could find someone who…knows her own mind, and is not afraid to speak it, I would be grateful."

Nodding, Martha twiddled her thumbs. "That last request does not describe your dear Alice."

He blew his breath through his nose. "No. But I have changed since I was young." A breeze wafted through the large room. Through one window, a horse neighed loudly. Martha put a finger next to her nose.

"A woman, not a girl," she said. "A woman who loves your children. A woman who is not fazed when you bluster, instead of one who simply bows to your temper." She sighed. "You ask a lot, but I'll do my best."

He put his hands flat on the table. It was embarrassing to have her say it so baldly. And yet it was true. Standing up, he counted out three gold pieces. She took them and walked him to the door without further conversation. The boy handed him back his crook.

"I almost forgot," Charles said, turning. "Thomas will be home at the next new moon. Could you wait to tell me what you find until after then? I have to speak with both of my children first."

"I'll wait," Martha said. "I understand, it's important that they know what you are planning." She grinned, a not altogether unsympathetic smile. "May the gods favor you when you tell them."

"Thank you," he said. He walked back down the dirt path toward the edge of the village.

His head told him he had done the right thing. It was time, perhaps past time, for him to marry again. And Martha, as galling as she could be, also knew her trade well. She would bring his attention to acceptable women.

If only he could forget about his new neighbor.

But the knowledge that she had asked about him made his heart sing. He whistled on the way home.