Disclaimer: I don't own them. I only torture them for free.

A park bench in Ripon-September, 1913

The air was cool around her, but the cup was warm in her hands, and she let her face hover over it to catch the steam and heat the tip of her nose. The Thermos worked surprisingly well. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, she had neglected to bring a second mug, and they were forced to share the cup from the top of the Thermos between them. There was something comfortably intimate about passing it back and forth. Charles didn't seem to mind at all. He actually smiled a little each time he took a sip. She knew this because she watched his lips on the cup from the corner of her eye. An involuntary shiver ran through her which unfortunately drew his attention.

"Are you cold?" he asked, concern filling his voice. Before she could answer, he had moved the basket containing their food from between them and shifted so that he was right beside her, arm and thigh lying alongside hers. "Would you like my coat?"

"No," she replied and cursed herself mentally for her shaky voice, "I am quite warm enough now. I just had a disturbing thought." She cursed herself again as she predicted his next question.

"And what has disturbed you?" he asked.

"You," she said and then shook her head at her own stupidity, "or rather the lack of you. That is, winter is coming, and I'm sure you won't be able to travel as easily. I will miss our chats."

He frowned, clearly not happy with the thought himself. "I would miss you as well, but I think there would be little that could keep me from coming to you."

"Ah, well, then I've nothing to worry about. Perhaps I should ask if anything has disturbed you. You've not eaten much," she smiled at him, glad to divert his attention, and took the cup so that she could hide her anxiety.

He looked down at the untouched sandwich on his lap and then took a small bite, watching her thoughtfully while he chewed. She didn't miss the way that his eyes were drawn down to her lips, and she took another sip to hide her smile. With a sigh, he turned from her to look out over the park. Her gaze followed his, but she focused on the dark clouds that were much closer than she would like. She had been too distracted before this to notice.

He stood and started to pack the remains of their lunch into the basket, "I think we should get you back to the shop before you're drenched. Whatever were you about not bringing an umbrella?"

She dashed out the last of the tea and screwed the cup into place on top of the Thermos. Then she looked at him in mock indignation, "I? I seem to remember this is not the first time you've been caught unprepared."

"I am not the one with at least four umbrellas by my front door," he said archly and took her elbow, lifting his impressive brows at her.

She couldn't think of a ready retort so she just rolled her eyes and let him guide her along as the first drops started to fall. The rain quickly turned from a few drops to a full downpour, and Charles moved his grasp from her elbow to her hand as he hurried their steps. She spotted the tree just after he did and struggled to keep up with him as he pulled her into a near run.

Once they were under its sheltering branches, he turned to her with worry in his voice and eyes crinkled in concern as he pulled his coat off, "You're drenched. You were already cold, now you'll catch your death."

She couldn't keep herself from smiling at his mothering while he put his coat around her shoulders. His fingers brushed the underside of her chin as he pulled the top of the coat together, and her smile disappeared. She couldn't hold in the gasp which escaped.

His eyes flicked up from her throat to meet hers and then down to her lips. Then she had no idea what he was looking at because she closed her eyes when his head tilted toward hers. His lips were covering hers; caressing, teasing, tasting. His arms were around her in an instant, hands moving over her back, and she was leaning against him, responding to the kiss with all the eagerness that she felt late at night in her dreams. Then, with a start she realized this was not a dream. It was reality and this was not right. She pushed against his chest and pulled her head away from his, backing away as far as the shelter of the tree would allow. He released her just as quickly as he had pulled her to him, and she turned away so that she could gather her thoughts.

She could hear him breathing heavily behind her, but he made no move toward her and she was incredibly grateful for his restraint. "Elsie, I apologize. I didn't mean to be so forward, but the day got the better of me. I just wanted to tell you, but I couldn't find the words. Forgive me, please. I would never want you to feel that I pushed myself on you."

"It's not that Charles," she began but he cut her off.

"I have guessed that your husband was," he hesitated, "not kind, and that your marriage was not a happy one. I know that it will take time, but surely you've realized by now that I care for you deeply. I'm willing to wait for you to be comfortable, as long as it takes. I would make no demands."

"Charles," she said more forcefully, "It is not you. I know that you would never…, that you would always be kind. You haven't understood. I am not free."

"Of course," he nodded, "You feel obligated to Mrs. Beeton. I respect that. As I said, there is no need to rush things."

She groaned in frustration, "You don't understand. I am not free because I am married. My husband is still alive."

And the angst begins. Reviews are welcome as always.