Once they arrived at Downton they each had their own duties to attend. Charles was busy making sure that the larger trunks were getting unpacked and things settled. There was also some of the silver he had taken to London for repair that he wanted to check. For Elsie, she had to ensure that the bedrooms had received their proper airing and would be ready for the family's return in two days time. She also had to review the menu for the garden party with Mrs. Patmore and once again argue about the bloody store closet. There were only a few hours left in the day, but they were filled with all these annoyances and more. When dinner was over she retired to her parlor to sit in her armchair with her feet propped on the ottoman. She heard the door open and shut but didn't look up. Charles sat down on the ottoman and took her feet in his hands. He began to rub her feet causing her to smile and hum contentedly. "The return to reality is a bit exhausting, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, "I find it hard to believe that I've only been gone four days. It seems there's so much work to do."

"I feel the same way," he agreed, "Are you sure there's not a job somewhere that would involve us lying in bed and making love all day?"

She laughed, "There may be, but I doubt it's legal."

"Elsie Hughes, you shock me! I wouldn't have thought you knew of such things."

They laughed together softly, and he coaxed her to the sofa so he could hold her properly. Sitting there with their arms around each other seemed to make the day a little more bearable.

He had intended to merely come say goodnight and then see her off to her own bed to sleep, but holding her in his arms, he felt that he couldn't let her go.

"Come to my room tonight," he whispered.

"Charles," she whispered hesitantly, "I'm very tired."

"I am too," he answered smiling, "I meant to sleep with me. The men's quarters are almost deserted. We really shouldn't pass up this chance."

She thought for a moment and agreed, "I'll come after I'm reasonably sure the girls are asleep. To sleep, mind."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm serious when I say I'm tired too. Don't expect anything of me tonight."

He was sitting on the chair in his room; towel draped over his legs and apron on, shining his shoes when she opened the door and entered quickly. He started to rise, but she motioned for him to sit back down. "You'll drop everything if you stand up; finish shining your shoes. Why don't you let the boot black do that?"

"This was my first job in service when I was 12. For one thing, it relaxes me. For another, I've never thought anyone does it as well as I do," he smiled.

She laughed softly, of course he wouldn't. She glanced around the room. The only other place to sit was the bed and somehow the thought of that made her suddenly shy. She was struck by the absurdity of being shy of anything with him after the past four days, but she was shy nonetheless. Walking to his dresser she looked at the items there. His comb, his shaving brush, and a small pair of scissors were laid out in a neat row to one side of the basin. "The scissors are to tame these great bushy eyebrows," he said with a smile in his voice letting her know he was watching her.

She turned her head to smile at him over her shoulder, and then looked at the items on the other side, a well-worn pipe, a watch, a small bag and a picture of a pleasant looking woman in a housekeeper's dress. "I didn't know you smoked," she said.

"I don't. That pipe was my father's. Silly of me to keep it I suppose, but Mum always filled his pipe, and he would smoke it after supper. I can still smell his tobacco in it."

"And this is your mother, of course."

He nodded, finished now, placing his shoes on the floor so that he could cross to her, "I found it in Mr. Jerkyns room after he died, along with some letters."

"Love letters?"

"No, not really, they were mostly little notes to do with household matters, but they were signed Grace and not Mrs. Carson," he said with a sad smile.

"She loved him then," and she asked, "Do you think he loved her as well?"

"He must have," Charles said thoughtfully, "to have kept her picture and those notes. He nearly beat me up the stairs to her room when she didn't come down for breakfast that day."

"The watch was your father's too?'

"No; Mr. Jerkyns'. 'Prompt and tidy, Mr. Carson, prompt and tidy' he was a great stickler for timeliness. He didn't have any relatives. No one came to the funeral but staff," Charles finished.

"Did it bother you that he and your mother loved each other?" She asked.

"No; I don't know if I even really realized it at the time, although he was usually to be found in her parlor, and he was very solicitous of her. My Mum and Da loved each other, I know, but Da was rather foolish with his money. He was a groom who trained thoroughbreds, and he was good. He made a lot of money in tips and bonuses when the horses he trained won. He gambled, though. Never on horses, he didn't think that would be sporting, but dice and cards. If he'd been more careful, Mum wouldn't have had to work. Mr. Jerkyns was a different sort of man. He took care of my Mum, did everything possible to make her life easier."

"Sounds like another man I know," she said smiling and then looking at the bag, she realized what it was, "Peppermints! I didn't know you had a sweet tooth."

"I don't, or I didn't used to. I keep them in my pocket for the girls. Lady Mary always fancied them and, of course, Lady Edith and Lady Sybil found out as well. Now I use them to time things."

When she looked at him quizzically, he explained, "If someone his Lordship likes calls, then I have two peppermints before I interrupt. If it's someone he doesn't like, I have one. When Lady Violet comes to tea with her Ladyship, I crunch it."

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his waist, "So that's why you always smell like peppermint."

He hugged her to him keeping his hands from touching her, "If you want to get into bed, I'll just wash my hands and join you."

"No, I'll wait," she said, suddenly shy again.

He poured water into the basin and picked up a small bar of soap, "Elsie, are you afraid? I've promised not to ravish you. You can't be shy of sleeping together. We've spent the better part of four days in bed together."

Looking down, she said, "Yes, Charles, but that bed was neutral ground. It wasn't your bed. The bed you sleep in every night. This feels different."

"Different because I sleep there every night? Would it help you to know that I've dreamed about you being in that bed with me many times?" he said gently.

"You've dreamed about me?"

"Yes, I tried to tell myself I shouldn't, but dream Elsie is very stubborn. Kept showing up no matter what I threatened to do, so I finally just gave up and let her stay," he said with a smile as he finished washing his hands.

"Completely unlike real Elsie, who isn't stubborn at all," she replied wryly.

"Completely," he agreed and taking her hand, guided her over to the bed where he lay down, coaxing her down beside him. She lay with her head on his chest, and his arms around her shoulders. Placing her hand on his chest, she slipped her fingers under the front of his shirt. He played lightly with the small ruffle on the neck of her nightdress.

"These aren't the same pyjamas you wore while we were on our trip."

His shoulders shifted a little, and he cleared his throat, "Well, no, these are my usual ones, but they're a bit worn. I bought new ones for our trip. I wanted to make a good impression."

She laughed, "Believe me, Charles, you made a good impression, several good impressions actually, but they had nothing to do with your pyjamas."

He hugged her closer and said, "This is a nice nightdress."

"Charles, it's the same one I took on our trip," she said dryly, "You just didn't see much of it."

"No; I suppose I didn't."

After a long pause, Charles asked, "Elsie, do you think, maybe, that I could have a picture of you?"

She smiled against his chest, "Yes, Charles, we'll try to find a way."