Ten:
A Light in the Darkness

Fiona enjoyed daddy allowing her to sit on his knee as they ate dinner. Auntie Beryl had been allowed to make dinner, and it was roasted potatoes and carrots with pork chops stuffed with walnuts and apples – all of Fiona's favorite things. She was excited for Auntie Elsie to enjoy such a good meal… and there was spice cake, too, topped with powdered sugar. Auntie Beryl was the best auntie in the world – Auntie Elsie was more like a mummy than an auntie.

She'd rather Auntie Elsie be her mummy than her auntie, but daddy and Auntie Elsie didn't really like each other much. She knew that because daddy got upset whenever she said she wanted Auntie Elsie to be her mummy now. And Auntie Elsie said that daddy didn't want another wife, so she couldn't be her mummy.

She didn't see why they were both so stubborn. Of course they would fall in love once they were together a bit, wouldn't they? Lots of people got married and then fell in love. Fiona didn't see why they didn't just get married and have done with it.

Auntie Beryl had given her a box of rhubarb sweeties, and Mrs. Oren gave her some ribbons for her hair. Daddy had given her a new dress – which was so pretty she could hardly believe it – and new shoes and stockings. Auntie Elsie gave her handkerchiefs – and she felt so happy for that because she was always losing them and borrowing Auntie Elsie's. Her new handkerchiefs were pink and had 'FAC' embroidered prettily in one corner in purple. She would never lose another one again. She couldn't wait to go upstairs and thank Auntie Elsie.

Daddy told her that there was another surprise – she would be packing and moving into a different room with Auntie Elsie, and that they would share a bed now.

That made Fiona so happy she might just burst from excitement. When she had a bad dream, she crawled into bed with Auntie Elsie, and it was always a very snug fit. Or when she felt bad. Or when she missed daddy and granny. Or… well, Auntie Elsie was warm and cuddly and she loved Fiona very much. That's why she wanted her to be her mummy now.

Fiona finished her cake and drank her milk before daddy sent her up to bed. He had to work, so she had to be a big girl and get ready for bed by herself and try to be good for Auntie Elsie. She carried her presents up to the attics, excited to share her good fortune with Auntie Elsie.

Her birthday was the happiest day of the year – except for Christmas.

She waited; she waited until everyone had gone to bed. Fiona was snoring softly, mumbling in her sleep. She could hear the quiet of the ladies' corridor and assumed that everyone was down. And then she crept down the hallway. The door that separated the men's section of the attics and the women's section was locked by the housekeeper at the end of the evening, and then she was to keep the key on her person.

With her having been laid up on doctor's orders, the key had been kept in the lock. Which is what she desperately needed now.

She unlocked the door and slipped through. Mr. Carson's door was the third on the right. Once he became butler, it would change to the first door on the left, but for now… third on the right. She opened the door and he startled awake. "Fiona?" he called softly.

"Shh, no, it's not Fiona," Elsie whispered.

There was confused silence, then, "Mrs. Hughes, let me put the candle on –"

"No, please don't," she murmured. "I couldn't bear you to see me right now."

"What on earth are you doing in here?"

For the first time since she'd had her insane thought – the one that refused to leave her, that made her heat from inside with such overwhelming passion that she might burst without him – she stopped and thought of just how madly she was behaving.

She was very quiet, then whispered, "I… I need you, Charles." She swallowed hard. "I need you."

"Elsie," he murmured, "this will change everything – there will be no going back from this."

"Just please… tell me you don't hate me for what I've done."

He sounded confused. "What have you done that's so wrong, Elsie?"

"Too many things," she whispered. "But please forgive me –"

She heard him shifting on the bed, getting up, coming toward her. Then he was touching her gently in the dark, his hands finding her shoulder and her hip, pulling her closer. "I forgive you everything," he whispered. "Why now?"

"I ran out of patience," she murmured. "And tomorrow, everything changes."

"I could love you," he whispered.

"I could love you," she replied.

"We could… love one another." His voice was low, soft, gentle, in a timbre and pitch that made her insides flutter like a copse of butterflies taking flight.

"Please." It was the only thing she could think to say. She didn't want to beg, to plead, to open herself to ridicule and pain, but she was dizzy from the want and the temptation of having him so close.

"Elsie, there could be consequences."

"Suppose the world ends tomorrow?" she said. "Suppose Lord Grantham sells the estate. Suppose I run off with the milkman or I leave to take care of my sister – a child would be a welcome consequence, Charles. A very loved, welcome consequence."

"Elsie –"

"We both need each other," she murmured. In the darkness, she guided him down to her for a tender kiss. "We do. Now, in this moment, we need one another."

He relaxed a little, gave in finally. The kisses became intense, passionate. Elsie felt all the fire she'd held back, denied, welling up again. She could love this man, did love this man, this gentle giant with a heart of gold and a beautiful daughter. And her patience had run out long before she believed that it would.

They kissed and caressed, building up an intense fire between them before he even bothered to lead her to the bed. It was the same single bed that she had in her room – for the moment – and she despaired of them being able to fit. He kissed away her protests and gently maneuvered them onto their sides on the mattress, nightclothes long before having gone by the wayside. His eyes in the darkness were intense, and she refused to break eye contact with him; he lifted her leg over his hip and gently positioned himself to enter her.

The moment his thick hardness began to spread her, Elsie lost her ability to breathe. The intensity of feeling in her body centered in her groin and her eyes fluttered shut, her breath bottoming out to almost nothing as she bit her lip. He leaned in and kissed her, and she surprised herself by inhaling deeply and moaning into his mouth as he thrust into her one little bit at a time until his hips were flush with hers and she thought he could not possibly go any deeper. It was a delicious ache, feeling him nestled so tightly inside her, so deep, and she shifted her hips forward, wanting him impossibly deeper.

Their kisses now were deep, tender, passionate; as above, so below. He thrust gently into her, retreating, then coming back, building up a tender rhythm that mimicked their snogging. Her leg over his hip, keeping him close, their free hands twined together, a bastion of strength.

The buildup was slow but intense, and when she let go, she felt the world implode around her; everything became centered around her pleasure, the pinnacle that only she could reach. She gasped into his mouth, bucking against him as sparks of pleasure blinded her. He was right behind her, his grip on her hand tightening as he stilled, his hardness jerking repeatedly within her, sending her right back up to heaven as he twitched against her inner walls.

They were both slick with sweat and laughing softly as they broke the last kiss. "Oh," Elsie breathed, "Charles, we've been terribly naughty…"

"Speak for yourself," he whispered. "I've been a perfect gentleman."

She smiled and kissed him, murmuring, "Oh, you have… believe me, you have."

"And heaven forbid I don't continue that… Elsie Hughes, will you marry me?"

She inhaled sharply, very much aware that they were still together, his almost spent member still inside her. "Don't be daft," Elsie murmured. "We barely know one another."

"I won't be doing that with anyone else," he uttered softly. "Not when I can have perfection in my arms any time I want –"

"I am not perfect," she whispered.

"To me, you are. You are perfect with all of your imperfections –"

"You daft, sweet man –"

"Let this be my birthday gift to you, Elsie. Marry me. Allow me to protect you like you protect my Fiona –"

She turned off her mind, all of the reasons she should say no, and instead breathed, "Yes – please, yes, Charles."

END PART TEN