The bed dipped beside him, and he opened his eyes to see the room suddenly brightly lit by a flash of lightning. Rolling onto his side, he saw that Elsie had brought Grace into the bed with them.
"Is Gracie ill?" he asked and saw Elsie jump at the first sound of his gruff voice.
Touching her shoulder to soothe her, his hand met bare flesh. Before he had a chance to withdraw his hand, Elsie shifted back slightly into his arms.
Torture. That's what it was. Torture. But if Elsie needed him, he would just have to endure. Perhaps he could go out into the cold rain after. Shuffling closer, he reached around her to put his hand on Grace's back and drew them both into his embrace, careful to keep his hips back. She didn't need that to worry her now.
She sighed. "Not ill. Just frightened I believe. I am sorry to have woken you."
He started to speak, but a loud clap of thunder caused Elsie to jump and Gracie to begin crying in earnest.
Elsie made soothing sounds while Charles rubbed the baby's back gently.
As Gracie's cries waned, he said, "You don't like the storm either."
Her attention remained on the child in their arms. "I've never cared for loud noises." He had no doubt that her previous home had been anything but quiet.
Lightning illuminated the room again and Charles lifted his hand from the babe's back to cover her ear, counting to himself until the clap of thunder came. Closer than the one before. They were going to be in for quite a storm. His hand must not have completely blocked the noise, because Gracie startled and began to cry again. Elsie jumped as well, bringing her closer to his hips. This might be a long night.
When another loud roll of thunder had Gracie crying more vigorously, Elsie sighed again, "Charles, the easiest way to soothe her would be to let her nurse. I know you don't like to be here. That is, I know that it makes you uncomfortable."
He hesitated. It did. There was no denying it. Torture. He was becoming more accustomed, but still it was torture. There was also no denying that Elsie shivered with each clap of thunder almost as much as Gracie. He would never leave her when she was like that.
"Go on. I'll just… It's dark."
She shifted slightly, and he could feel her movements as she loosened her nightgown more. Then, Gracie shuffling closer and the quiet sounds…
He took a deep breath and pressed his forehead against the back of her head. Torture. He kept his hand on Gracie's back and occasionally covered her ear to block the sound of the thunder. His hand was so close that he could almost feel… Torture. He tried his best to concentrate on counting between the flashes of lightning and the claps of thunder to judge if the storm was coming closer or going further away. Gradually, the storm seemed to be moving away. He began to relax. Maybe both of his girls would calm.
Soon, though, between the claps of thunder, he could feel her shoulders shake and hear the softest of sobs. Glancing at her during one of the flashes of lightning, he saw tears streaking her face.
"Elsie? Are you that frightened?"
She paused. Another flash of lightning gave him a glimpse of the curve of her white breast. He shifted his hips farther back. He hoped the storm would abate soon just so he could go out and stand in the cold rain.
"It's not the storm," she said fiercely.
"Then what?" he asked, and then rare insight dawned. "You don't believe I'm upset about Gracie nursing do you?"
"What else could it be?" she asked. "You're always away or find something else to do."
"It's not that," he said sharply, then quieter so that he wouldn't disturb the child who was contentedly and quietly nursing. "I think it's wonderful. Amazing. I think you are wonderful. Beautiful."
"Then what?" she asked, voice gentler now, but he could still hear her voice crack.
He tried to gather his thoughts, not an easy task when most of his mind and body were otherwise occupied. "I just didn't think it would be proper. I mean, for me to see so much of you when," he struggled to find the right words, "we've not known each other. Fully known each other, that is."
"And why haven't we?" she asked, "Fully known each other, I mean. Do you not want that? I don't understand you. Do you want to live together as brother and sister?"
He barked a laugh which unfortunately startled poor Gracie. Carefully, he soothed her with his hand on her cheek, brushing Elsie's breast as he did so. Words failed him so he shifted his hips closer to her bottom so that she could feel him, all of him.
"Oh," she whispered in soft surprise, and then surprised him by pressing her bottom snugly against him.
His mouth went dry, and his arm tightened around her, mouth brushing her neck in a hungry kiss.
"Then why?" she asked.
He took several deep breaths to calm himself before speaking gruffly. "I thought—that is, Mrs. Crawley warned me—to not be too eager, that childbirth is a difficult business. She said you would need time to recover. I just wanted you to be well."
Her hand covered his on Gracie's back for a moment, tracing a pattern there. Then she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his palm gently.
"Oh Charles," she whispered and he could hear the smile that had replaced her tears. "Gracie's almost five months old. How long did you think it would be?"
If he didn't have an inkling of where this conversation was headed, he might have been offended by her teasing tone.
"I wasn't sure," he said, "but I didn't want to bother you. I mean, if you weren't ready. I wanted to give you all the time you needed." After the slightest of hesitations, he added, "I never want to hurt you, Elsie."
She pressed back against him again. "I'm ready. I have been for weeks at least. You only need ever have asked."
He growled now and pressed his lips to the back of her neck again, tongue flicking out to taste her skin. He pulled back quickly before he could be overwhelmed. "But not tonight," he said, "The storm. Gracie."
"Tomorrow night," she said, "I can ask Mrs. Molesley to watch Gracie."
She turned over in his arms to face him, so that Gracie was between them. He watched her chest with bold and open interest now as she began to nurse again on Elsie's other breast. His eyes roamed over the creamy curve of skin and his daughter eagerly nursing. It was fascinating.
"Does it hurt?" he surprised himself by asking out loud. She looked up at him and this close he could sense her smile. "No, it doesn't. I was a little sore at first, though."
"Beautiful," her eyes met his in the near darkness, and he wanted to kiss her so much that it hurt. So he did.
She pulled away from his lips, but tucked her head on his shoulder. "Tomorrow night."
The storm was nearly over now and as he watched, both of his girls were drifting off to sleep. In a moment, he would take Gracie to her crib but for now he contented himself with having much more in life than he would have ever dreamed. Smiling, he pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered, "Tomorrow night."