I wasn't going to post another part today, but it appears my weekend is going to be crazy busy. Thanks for all the reviews. Hope you all keep enjoying the future parts. :)

Title: Masquerade Ball

They entered the house through the front door, as Lord Grantham had requested on the invitation. Elsie lowered her chin and bit down on her lip as the new footman became flustered, obviously in awe of the well-known and respected ex-butler.

Charles took her elbow and leant over to whisper conspiratorially in her ear as they followed the young lad through to the ballroom: "He wouldn't act like that if he saw me in the garden."

She flushed, trying not to think about the inappropriate thoughts she so often had when she watched him in the garden.

They joined the end of the receiving line and were welcomed by the members of the Crawley family in attendance tonight. Then, they rounded the room together, greeting past and present servants, some more warmly than others.

Disconcertingly, during all this, Charles never removed his hand from her arm.

Was it her imagination or did some of the guests' eyes drift down to take in that fact too?

She craned her neck to study his expression. It was, as he'd practised for many years, impassive. She sniffed irritably. He was one of those men. Masterful and possessive in public, but behind closed doors, he ignored all his spousal responsibilities.

With an audible sigh she admitted silently to herself that she was being entirely fair. But she would also admit she was finding frustration a difficult emotion to deal with.

Upon hearing her sigh, Charles's hand only tightened and she felt something else other than mere frustration. It wasn't irritation at his display of public ownership either.

She felt... It felt...so right.

"Mrs Carson, may I have this dance?"

She looked up. Lord Grantham was holding his hand out expectantly.

Slowly, she felt Charles's hand drop away. Just as she'd feared it would.