A/N: In which we leave Lytham Saint Annes and head back home. One more regular chapter after this one and then a "Christmas special" in December.
Thanks to all for reading and reviewing my #unofficialDAs7 fic! Your reviews have made me smile.
This chapter is rated a strong "T" for ... Touching.
xx,
CSotA
With all the detail-sorting of the trip and Becky's first meeting with Charles over and done with, added to a few days' vacation and de-stressing, Elsie sleeps more soundly than she has in weeks.
As morning slowly rolls in, she turns toward where Charles is sleeping and wraps her arm around him, placing several kisses to his back and shoulders in an attempt to wake him up.
He groans sleepily, then playfully, and reaches his arm behind him; his hand lands on the back of her thigh and she smiles against his skin, blessedly content even though they're leaving to go home in a few short hours.
"Good morning," she murmurs.
"Mm. S'early."
She props herself up on her elbow as her free hand roams his body. "It is," she agrees with a kiss to the back of his neck.
Charles's voice is still groggy and thick from sleep. "And I gather there's something you want?"
She's moved down a bit and hums against his skin. "Perhaps."
He feels the breath of the word on his shoulder blade; for some reason, the intimacy of that one small detail strikes him. He shakes his head a bit to more fully wake up while he kneads his fingertips a bit more deeply into the flesh of her leg, pulling her closer still.
"I was rather selfish last night," Charles mumbles. "I'm sorry about that."
Her responding chuckle and the series of kisses she places to his back are distracting him. He thinks it's perhaps the best way to be woken in the morning.
"I wouldn't say that, Charlie. Besides, it was my idea," she reminds him.
"Still, it wasn't my intention to fall asleep so soon."
"You didn't hear me complaining about anything, did you?"
"No," he remembers, blushing, "I didn't. I must say, Elsie ... in all those times I imagined what we might get up to in our marital bed, that was one thing that never made the list."
"And I didn't hear you complaining either, dear," she coos, trailing her fingers up and down his hip.
"Erm, no. You didn't."
She sighs happily, then lets out a giggle. "The buttoned-up, stern, dragon of a housekeeper and the strong, deep-voiced, steady butler … Whatever would people say if they knew?"
He hears the happiness and contentment in her voice, and it reminds him that she's going to retire. Finally relinquishing his hold on her leg, he feels her move away, backing up a bit to enable him to roll over and face her.
"They'd never believe it," he replies, caressing her cheek. "So it's a good thing these activities of ours are a secret. Well ... that one, anyhow."
"Oh, my. Look at you, Charlie." Her voice is almost purring and she bites down seductively on the corner of her lip, her hands brushing over his broad chest as she curls a leg up and over his, her toe trailing over his calf. "Looking rather ... mussed." Her hands travel up the back of his neck and into this hair, fluffing it even more as she tugs it a bit.
"Witch," Charles whispers. "Are we in a bit of a rush this morning, Mrs. Carson?"
"We are. Come here, my lovely man …"
He quirks an eyebrow at his wife and her eyes light up as he lifts his body over hers, putting most of his weight on his left side as he tests out how his right hand and arm will respond to bearing his weight so soon after waking.
She watches him as he moves, attuned to his concentration and his careful movements.
"Is it alright?" she asks quietly.
"Seems to be," he replies, smiling and dipping his head for a kiss. "I think I rather like having you away from work for a few days," he tells her, gasping as she reaches for him and caresses him softly. "Ah … oh, my."
"I wonder ... how will I manage with retirement?" she whispers, her touch feather-light and driving him nearly mad. "I don't do well with being idle."
He shifts and she follows suit, cradling him between her legs. "You've never been idle in your life," he reminds her.
Reaching her hands around the small of his back she pulls him closer, insistent, and captures his gaze with hers as his hand flutters over her arm, neck, shoulder, and across her chest.
"And I don't mean to start. I guess you'll just have to keep me occupied, my dear."
"Elsie," he whispers, and he hears her murmur his name (and something else that he can't quite make out) in reply as she reaches down to guide him.
They move together slowly, almost silently, each movement drawn out and lingering, grabbing hold of just a bit more magic on this brief time away. Their eyes are locked on one another's the entire time, neither feeling the need to say another word.
Just as he's about to lose complete control, Elsie reaches out to grasp his face and pull him down for a passionate kiss, the touch of her tongue against his tipping them both over the edge.
oOoOoOoOoOo
"I think that's it," Charles says as he clasps the buckle of his suitcase. "Can I help you with anything, love?"
"No, I believe I'm all set," Elsie's voice sounds from the en suite.
She comes back into the bedroom just as she's fixing the last pin in her hair.
"Beautiful," Charles whispers, reaching to place his hands on her hips and drop a kiss to her forehead.
"That's my heightened color you're noticing," she says with a smile. "I believe you're responsible for that."
"If I remember correctly, it was your idea."
"And you're welcome," she replies cheekily, pinching his bottom as she walks over to the wardrobe. "You're responsible for the mark on my shoulder, too, by the way."
He watches her as she finishes packing: efficient movements, no wasted energy, and he wonders briefly how she will manage in retirement. He understands her point all too well; serving the family is not for them anymore, not who they are anymore, as they'd discussed last night. But he knows how hard it can be having hours upon hours in the cottage with nothing much to do. The place is never untidy and yet he often finds himself rearranging and straightening things just to pass the time. He's joined the library board, but that's only a once-per-month commitment. Sitting and reading for hours on end is lovely once in a while, but he needs a hobby and knows she will, too.
Besides that.
"All done."
Charles checks the time. "Perfect. We can leave our bags with the reception desk until we return from Becky's place, and then we should have plenty of time to make it to the station."
He opens his arms and Elsie moves into his loving embrace.
"Shall we broach the subject of Christmas?" he asks, and she nods.
"I think so. It'll give her something to look forward to. Are you sure it will be alright?"
They discuss finances more frequently now, but while Elsie's become a little more comfortable about their situation, she's not entirely at ease with Charles footing the bill for everything they do. Still, he's told her it's likely that she'll have a financial gift of sorts from the Granthams (given that they certainly have no need to present her with a cottage on the estate), and she knows that if she and Charles can invest that with the bank then she'll feel better about it all.
"I'm positive. It's not a terribly expensive train fare and we'll be able to stay here overnight, I think. That is, if you'd like to?"
"I would. This is such a gem of a place, Charlie."
"And it's spotless," he teases, and she laughs. He knows his wife only too well, but she knows he appreciates those things as well.
"And there's that, yes."
oOoOoOoOoOo
"Hello, Elsie!"
Charles chuckles as Becky once again races toward her sister and embraces her fiercely.
"Not all 'Charlie' this and 'Charlie' that, then," he mutters, happy for that to be the case. He adores Becky, but it's Elsie who's loved her for a lifetime.
He holds back and waits his turn, and sure enough Becky greets him with his own hug, albeit a slightly less exuberant one.
"We've a surprise for you," Elsie says softly, leading Becky to the small settee in the corner of the sitting room.
"Oooh!" Becky claps her hands and then sits dutifully beside Elsie, who takes her hands and squeezes them gently.
"Becky, love, I'm going to retire. Do you know what that means?"
Becky shakes her head, her brow a bit furrowed. "No."
"Well," Elsie begins, catching Charles's eye and motioning with her head to the chair beside her, where he promptly sits, "it means that I won't be working anymore. I won't need to, you see."
"Oh."
Elsie meets her husband's gaze quickly and then turns her attention back to Becky. Charles is antsy, his nerves about Becky's reaction and his constant attention to the time of day distracting his wife as well.
"Becky, what would you say if Charlie and I came to visit you at the Christmas holiday? Would you like that?"
Becky's eyes widen, and she nods slowly as her face breaks out in a grin. "Do you mean it?"
"I do, dear." Elsie pats Becky's hand in measured, steady strokes, and she's surprised to see a few age spots where Becky had previously had none … a reminder that time is moving on, indeed.
"And Charlie?"
"And me," Charles says, his rumbling voice resonating somewhere deep within his wife's heart. "If you'll have me."
Becky nods slowly. "Of course, Charlie. You're our family now."
He reaches out and lays one of his hands over theirs, clasping them all in his currently-steady grasp.
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