A/N This continues where "Accusation" ended because it felt right. It is a bit longer than yesterday's one-shot and it doesn't make a lot of sense ;). But I had no time to think of something better (and my muse refused to visit. It's Monday. She hates Mondays). Enjoy! And THANK YOU ALL for your wonderful reviews!

Day 9 MOVE


Andy sets down the last box in their new living room, next to the green armchair they've brought over from the main house earlier.

"If there is anything else you need, Mrs Carson, just let me know and I'll organize the transport somehow." The new footman smiles at her. He's kind, gentle, attentive and reminds her of William. She will miss him. And if she's honest with herself, she will miss everyone once they've moved into their cottage. The hustle and bustle before an elaborate dinner, the planning of house parties and the annual bazaar, maids knocking on the door of her sitting room with questions, requests, problems. For such a long time she has lived and worked amongst a large group of people. The only time of the day when she has been truly alone where the hours she was in her bedroom, sleeping. Now they will spend their days only in each others company.

"Thank you Andy. That is very kind of you." She checks the contents of the box briefly, ticks it off her list. Of course she has made a plan, like she always does.

"I'll be off then." He smiles at her once more before he takes off his cap, wishes her a good day and exits through the front door.

She is alone now, truly alone. No one will knock on the door in the next few hours, no one will ask for her help. She has to adapt to a new routine now, void of bells that call for her, early risings and receiving orders. The previous night has been the last she has slept in her room at the Abbey. Tonight they will share a bed for the first time since their wedding night. Until then she has a lot to organize and unpack.

-x-x-x-

He comes home earlier than expected. The sun has not yet touched the horizon but the shadows are already long and the air has cooled down considerably. She has closed the front door but the windows are still open so she hears how the key is turned in the lock, listens to his footfall on the wooden floor in the living room.

"Elsie?" He calls out for her.

"I am upstairs, dear." One last box still needs unpacking: her pictures and the little trinkets she has collected over the years. She has spread them out on the bed, cannot decide where she will put everything. They have so much room now that belongs to them.

"Good evening, love." He stands in the doorway of their new bedroom.

She turns her head, smiles and looks at him, when she hears his voice. "Good evening." He is the only person, aside from Andy, she's seen in hours.

"Are these truly the last things you need to find a place for?" He comes over, stands next to her, puts an arm protectively around her waist. She feels his lips on the top of her head when he kisses her there gently.

"Unless you've brought something else home with you." She picks up the little landscape painting.

"That's beautiful. I never noticed it in your sitting room."

"It was just above my desk. A maid once gave it to me and it reminds me of Scotland." Her thumb brushes away a bit of dust that has gathered on the frame.

"We can put it above our desk. Then you can look at it whenever you write a letter to Becky." He kisses her cheek now, takes the picture from her hands and puts it back on the bed. "Let's decide about the rest of this tomorrow."

His gentle touches, the way he turns her around to face him, the kiss they share, all of this makes her forget that she still has some work to do until their new house looks and feels like home. For now all that matters is that she can enjoy this wonderful certainty that no one will interrupt them. The front door is locked, the curtains drawn. It is only the two of them in their own bedroom, kissing passionately and murmuring endearments. The rest of the day belongs to them and no one else. This is how it will be from now on and it makes her happy beyond description.


TBC: tomorrrrow (who would've guessed)