Elsie ran to his side, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, "Oh Charles, talk to me!"
"Elsie, I fear I am going to be sick," he heaved, speaking to her feet. She bent over pressing her cheek against his temple. He was pale and his skin felt clammy.
"Charles, you need to sit down, my darling. Are you able to walk with me back to the hotel? We can sit downstairs."
"No Elsie, not the hotel, I need air!"
She looked around, past the vehicles whizzing by the little roundabout they were in the middle of, trying to find a safe haven. She noticed off to her right, "Charles, There's a park bench, can you walk with me there?" He reached out his arm and she tucked herself underneath it, turned them both in the direction of the bench and slowly began to walk them there. He looked ghastly. As they reached the bench at last, she begged him, "Please sit down, Charles."
But his was still a downward gaze and he noticed there were small pools of water from the morning rain on the wood slats. "It's wet," he complained. He who had just spent a good hour soaking in the tub didn't want to get wet. The irony.
"Then I shall wipe it dry with your handkerchief," she countered, reaching into his breast pocket. She felt the handkerchief right away but had trouble removing it at first, that blasted new little notebook, she thought. Finally extracting it, she swiftly wiped down a spot for him on the bench. "It's dry now. Sit, Charles," she ordered.
He practically collapsed onto the bench, though opening his torso to thigh angle immediately helped his breathing. She sat down beside him, a very concerned look on her face as she reached out and stroked the back of his neck. The color was coming back to him, if only a wee bit. "Oh, I have a wicked headache," he groaned at last, leaning forward again, anchoring his elbows on his knees and head between his hands. Elsie switched to rubbing large, slow circles on his back. They remained this way for another minute before he began to speak again, slowly and achingly. "Elsie, please help me understand why...why you spoke with Mrs. Crawley about - "
It was obvious he was not just sick but very MAD to learn about the earlier conversation that she as the prospective bride had found so very enlightening. Taking a deep breath, she began very deliberately, "Charles, after learning of your wishes for a full marriage, and assuming that to mean my adoring husband-to-be intended for us to indeed make love, I put down my poetry books and did some research. You know they publish little books, primers on the subject but everything I read either didn't address women my age or suggested there might be issues. And so I made an appointment with Dr. Clarkson."
"Yes, so you have previously established."
She frowned a bit at his interruption but given his state, continued on. "His confirmation that intercourse - "
Straightening the hand closest to her and extending it near his head, Charles begged, "Must you use that word?"
She sighed deeply for it was clear he was being impossible more than anything else; her curmudgeon was back. "Dr. Clarkson confirming I might feel discomfort left me anxious and that was at the forefront of my mind still when I stopped by Crawley House on my way back. Again, regarding some hand-me-downs Mrs. Crawley had said she had for me or Becky. We got to talking, Mrs. Crawley and I, and one thing led to another and - oh Charles she is a nurse for God's sake. And she is a woman of a certain age, like me, and is experienced in these matters, and someone I consider a friend, and well, I confided to her what Dr. Clarkson had said and she advised me that we might try - well, you know."
"But did you forget there's one other thing that Mrs. Crawley is? Specifically, a member of the family?" Lifting his head for the first time to address her more properly, his errant curl was once again hanging over his forehead. "My God, from now on when she comes to the house for tea, for luncheon, or anything else for that matter is she going to wonder - or ask - how we're getting on?"
She rolled her eyes at that one. "Oh Charles, you worry wart, I trust her to be more discreet than that." She reached over and tucked the curl back. They were at least talking civilly again.
"But do you trust me?" he winced.
Taken aback, she found it hard to believe he even had to ask. "Yes."
"Then trust me on what I am about to say, Elsie," he paused, to carefully select his words and find a steady voice. "Trust me as your best friend. Trust me as the man who pledged before God to love you and worship you 'til the day I die." He sighed and briefly looked to the sky for strength. Then he continued. "I do want to make love to you. My God, the entire time we were in the bath this morning, I was on the edge of ecstasy but that was a fraction of the pleasure I felt in making love to you the other night. You in my arms, yours surrounding me, our bodies joined as one, I felt things I didn't even dream were possible. It sent me to the moon, Elsie. I want to feel that again. Again and again and again! Today, tonight, tomorrow - for the rest of our lives!"
Recognizing in her reaction that may have come across more demanding than he intended, Charles continued, tenderly, "Elsie, I understand now that I hurt you and I am so very sorry for that. It is the last thing I want to be the case. Under the circumstances, I respect and support your having gone to see Dr. Clarkson and can now understand why you spoke with Mrs. Crawley also. Based on their counsel, I hope that we can try again, soon, and perhaps with practice we can reach the moon, together. Elsie, it's just I...I would greatly prefer if, should you have further questions or concerns about...about our intimate matters, that you first discuss them with me. Your husband." He sat up straighter, looked at her adoringly, and shared one of his trademark half-smiles. "Your deeply and madly, foolishly in love, husband."
She knew by his tone, posture and term of endearment that he had turned the corner emotionally and was asking forgiveness for his behavior. And was flirting. Past the worry of minutes earlier, she rolled her eyes. She wouldn't let him coast. "Oh, yes, because my husband, Charles Edward Carson, life-long celibate bachelor is the fountain of all wisdom when it comes to inter - , to marital relations." She chose that phrase because of the Rs.
"Oh, you aren't the only one with discreet sources, love," he winked. With that he reached into his breast pocket again and pulled out the seemingly ever-present little notebook. Making sure no one was nearby to see, he handed it to Elsie who was not sure what he was alluding to. She could see along the edge his pressed white wedding boutonnière, and the single red rose petal between other pages. Then she read the cover and realizing it too was a sexual primer, gasped, "Charles!" pressing it into her chest.
"I went and spoke to Dr. Clarkson as well, Elsie. In the hopes of pleasing you." He wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight to his side for a peck on her temple. Looking out over the park, rather than at her, he continued, "But I did not speak with Mrs. Crawley after that," he teased.
She swatted his chest with the primer before tucking her hand into his coat to return the booklet to it's safe place. "Wicked man, you!" And with that they both began to giggle. Charles leaned down and kissed her again, first on the forehead, then the tip of her nose and then, squarely on her lips.
Breaking the last kiss, he smiled and looked at her, hopefully. "Elsie, would you be agreeable?"
"To what?"
"Sheaths."
"My word, you have but one thing on your mind, Mr. Carson!"
"I have only you on my mind, Mrs. Carson. You, who haven't answered me."
She thought about it a moment and then smiled at him and nodded mildly in the affirmative, "But you - "
"No, no. I'm fine with sheaths."
She was surprised. "You are?"
"Yes. Especially if they mean I won't get you pregnant. I don't know how we'd afford a new home and another mouth to feed all at the same time."
"Ha ha, my silly husband." Turning serious again, she added, "But Charles, if I still have discomfort, Dr. Clarkson advised there's something we could get from the chemist. I just don't like the idea of a chemical as a first step."
"I understand and am in agreement." They sat silently for a moment, then he suggested, "Elsie, let's go back."
"Yes, let's go back, we haven't had even a drop of tea yet this morning."
"No Elsie, home. I want to go home to Downton. Today."
"But our room here, and Mr. Nathan! Our plans to visit the maritime museum, our train tickets for tomorrow."
"But, but, but, I have one but; we are not going home but until you shop for those new underthings we discussed. With no baby on the way, remember, we can afford them. What do you say, Elsie, home to Downton, to our new cottage, new life? Together with no postcards to send or housekeeping to walk in on us?"
"What do you have against housekeeping?" she glared, mockingly.
"Nothing at all, I just want to keep house - with my wife."
"Ok, we'll go home today. We can go to church in the morning and - "
"No."
"No? You always like to hear what Reverend Travis has selected."
"Not tomorrow, I want tomorrow to be one of those days, as you said, when we are home in our cottage and have nowhere to go, nothing to do, and we spend the whole of the day in bed. Together. With our not returning to work until Thursday next, we could do exactly that for a few days, in fact."
"Well, Mr. Carson, seems you have it all planned out for us."
"Are you in agreement?"
She smiled, "I am," and then bit her lip as he took her hand.
They walked back to The Chadwick Arms, explained their early departure to Mr. Nathan, assuring him that they would look forward to another future stay. They went upstairs and packed while Mr. Nathan drew them another map, this one from the hotel to the train station by way of a ladies' intimate apparel shop Mr. Nathan knew to be a little "secret" with the discerning women of Scarborough, Victoria's.
Along the way to Victoria's, they stopped in some other shops and picked up some small gifts for others back home as Elsie wished. When they arrived at Victoria's, Charles found the window display a little risqué but agreed to at least step inside with Elsie. He wasn't there very long, surrounded by all sorts of ladies' underthings, when his collar was starting to feel tight again, and his forehead to feel warm.
"Elsie, I think it best that I go get some air again. Do you mind if I leave you be here for a bit, with our cases? I will walk ahead to the station and exchange our tickets for today. Surely by the time I do that and return you'll have picked out some nice...things...for yourself?"
"As you wish, Charles, but before you go, tell me which color do you prefer," she gestured at the garments displayed. Her question forced him to look at them. Again his collar was becoming a bother.
"That color," he pointed but looked away, quickly.
"Nude? I'm a little surprised, Charles."
"They call that - "
"Nude, Charles." She smiled. He was so adorable when out of his comfort zone. She would have to pull him there more in the days ahead.
"Yes, that color. Elsie, I will be back." Hoisting the new travel case from Mrs. Crawley, he addressed the young saleswoman. "Miss, make sure my wife fills this up with new, er, garments." And with that he handed Elsie a large note, kissed her cheek and was thankfully out the door heading to the station.
"So, where shall we start? What would you like, ma'am?"
"I don't know, they're all so lovely," Elsie marveled.
"Well, perhaps think about when you expect to wear your new undergarments."
"Well then, something comfortable, more comfortable than my corset, pretty and feminine, yet nothing too FORMAL. I suspect I will wear these things not to work but for days at home," she smiled, "Days where I have nowhere to go, nothing to do."
Charles continued with a bit of window shopping on his way to the station, stalling some so that Elsie could finish her shopping at Victoria's and he wouldn't have to be in there long upon his return. He found the station, had no problems exchanging their tickets and was pleased to learn that with the next train to York about to depart, they would actually be on the one after, allowing them to have a leisurely lunch first. He had just turned away from the ticket window when a voice nearby called to him, "Mr. Carson? Is that you sir?"
The young man who called his name did not look familiar to Charles. "I'm sorry, I don't recall from where I should know you."
"Yes, well, that is understandable. I am Geoffrey Perkins, Mr. Carson, I met you and your wife on the train the other day, I was in the compartment when you boarded at York."
"Oh yes, of course, how are you, Mr. Perkins?"
"Very well, Mr. Carson, and you? And where is Mrs. Carson?" he asked hopefully.
"Ah, down the way. Some last minute shopping here in Scarborough before we head home. How on earth did you recognize me and what are you doing here in Scarborough, I recall you exited the train somewhere shortly after York."
"Yes, well, I was coming from having just asked my future father-in-law for his permission to marry his daughter. It made your mention of being on your honeymoon memorable for me the other day."
"Ah, congratulations, young man. Wise choice to get up the courage to ask your girl at your young age."
"Thank you, Mr. Carson, I can't imagine my life without her. Any other advice, from a married man, that is?" he nudged Charles.
Charles thought for a moment, then replied, "Treat her like a SNOWFLAKE."
"A snowflake?"
"Yes, recognize there will be wonder whenever you see her, that she should be treated delicately, but do not underestimate her power, and above all else, remember she is truly one of a kind and therefore special."
"That's lovely, Mr. Carson, I will remember that always. I am afraid I must board the train to York now, please give my regards to Mrs. Carson."
"I shall, Mr. Perkins, thank you and good day - and good luck!"
Charles knew the coincidental meeting would please Elsie when he told her. As he strolled back to Victoria's, his mind was on pleasing Elsie in other regards and so, when he saw a sign for a shop he hadn't noticed earlier, he impulsively stepped inside. It was different than Victoria's in every regard and yet, he felt uncomfortable in there as well. And so he left, quickly. Forgetting he had previously decided to stall on the journey to and from the train station, he rushed back in to Victoria's. Elsie was standing at the till, her new purchases already tucked away in their case.
"Oh Charles, excellent timing. Do you have our train tickets for today?"
"Yes, yes, no problem at all."
"Good, and what time is our train?"
He looked at his pocket watch, "Half one."
"Oh good, enough time for lunch then. No breakfast is catching up with me."
"Yes, I was thinking the same. Are you all finished here?"
"Yes, and I think you'll agree with my purchases."
"I am sure I will," he grinned, cheekily.
"Thank you Ms. Rookley. Your help is most appreciated," Elsie nodded.
"I hope you will both enjoy them," the young woman smiled. Elsie was sure her innuendo would make Charles blush but he appeared unphased; maybe he was growing accustomed to being a married man.
They walked along toward the station, a little faster than Elsie was expecting given they had just under two hours before their train to York would depart.
"Oh, Charles, one last stop before lunch please. There's an apothecary shop. I would like to get some more rose water. It will just take me a minute."
"This apothecary?" he thought, uncomfortably. Oh why this one, it was the one he had exited not 15 minutes prior. "Elsie, I am sure there's another one closer to the station."
"Nonsense, this one is right here and we don't need to look for another. If for some reason they don't have rose water here, then we can go on to another."
Her gloved hand was about to grasp the door handle when he stopped her.
"Elsie, please don't go in there."
"Charles, as I said it will just take me a minute."
"No Elsie, please, not this one."
"Charles, you are making no sense right now. Why not this apothecary?"
Shoe on the other foot for once, Charles rolled his eyes and mumbled something.
"What dear? I couldn't hear that."
This time he rolled his eyes again but spoke louder, "I was just in there."
"So?"
"I was just in there buying something."
He was acting strange again. "And?"
"I was just in there buying...these." He waved her closer, encouraging her to peek in the right flap pocket of his overcoat.
"Sheaths!"
"Shhhhh, Elsie! People can hear you!"
She now noticed his pocket was bulging, the left one too!
"Charles, my word, how many did you buy? There's enough to last us until WINTER!"
"I hope they don't last that long; I hope they don't last us until Thursday!" he grinned and leaned down to kiss her.
"My, my another public display of affection. Are you really Charles Carson of Downton, in Yorkshire?"
"The one and only, at your service!"
"Well, it would seem I don't need any rose water to light your fire. Therefore, if you would kindly escort me to lunch, Mr. Carson. It seems we will both need our energy for the days ahead, together, in our cottage."
With that, she turned away from the door to the apothecary and Charles extended his elbow which she grabbed happily. The two contently walked on, together, toward the station and their future, together.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
That's it, my first fic is in the books! Thank you all so much for reviews and encouragement over these few weeks of postings and especially to ChelsieSouloftheAbbey for your behind-the-scenes FanFiction navigational coaching! All of it is SOOOO appreciated. The process of stretching my creative muscles has been fun but the interactions have contributed to it for certain. It really did feel along the way that we are in this, together. Thank you!
By way of the reviews, it is clear that you all want Chelsie to have some more fun, and would liked to have seen it in this fic, but given my first go around it was hard to stay true to my original vision and incorporating the prompts and other constraints. Fortunately, there are, ahem...alternatives...and given that I'd like to see the kids have more fun too, over the last week the theme and title of my next fic has come to mind. I promise LOTS of frolicking fun for Chelsie in my next story. Stay tuned for...The Newlywed Games!
