A/N: I hope you enjoy this next update. I really appreciate your feedback.

Chapter 21

It had taken great willpower not to invite Elsie along with him to visit Mr. Travis, but it simply wouldn't do. He did have another errand to run in the village, an errand where her company would be most unwelcome.

Breakfast had been a tricky affair. He'd been congratulated numerous times yesterday, and he could only hope that the news of his impending marriage to Elsie would lose some of its teeth overnight, but that had not proven to be the case. He entered the Servants' Hall as dignifed as ever, yet he quailed inwardly as he perceived the attention of the staff. He was relieved to see Mrs. Hughes this morning, looking as bright and fresh as a daffodil in spring. He longed to smile, but he sensed that all eyes were on them, studying the differences in their interactions now that they were betrothed. His nerves made him feel skittish and unsure, and he raised his voice above the pleasant din.

"You may all be seated now."

Mrs. Hughes wisely refrained from making eye contact with him. She contented herself by preparing his tea as she usually did. She buttered his toast just as he liked it, then sat drinking her own tea, serene, almost radiant, he thought. He found he wanted to touch her hand, push his leg companionably against hers, smile openly at her, but his years of training prevented the mask from slipping in public. In private, he could be Charles to her Elsie, but here, here he must remain Carson and she Mrs. Hughes. His only public concession to their engagement was a promise to himself to soften, very slightly, his professional demeanor toward her. He recognized that his ill-timed, often harsh comments to her were merely last-ditch efforts of shoring up the wall he'd spent so many years constructing between them. Being sharp with her was his only means of not succumbing to the temptation of having his cake and eating it too. It took great effort to conceal his joy at being able to do both now. He felt the beginnings of a grin tug at his face. No, no. It wouldn't do to begin thinking of last night, old man. Far too dangerous. He focused instead on ensuring his tea cup made it to his mouth and back down to the saucer with nary a drop spilled.

Picking up his buttered toast, he commented casually to Mrs. Hughes. "I shall be going into the village this morning, Mrs. Hughes. If there is any errand I can perform for you, it would be my pleasure to do so." Very good. Very normal and regular. He would always have offered to pick up anything she needed from the village, engaged or no.

Mrs. Hughes fought hard to stifle the grin that threatened. "No, Mr. Carson. I believe I have everything I need right here." You stop that right now, Elsie. You're no frolicker! It's wrong to tease him when he's trying so hard to act as though today is another ordinary day in a long line of ordinary days. You know how difficult this is for him. You must help him or he'll never make it through. "There is nothing I need at the present time, though I do thank you for offering," she said kindly.

He nodded, then replied gruffly. "Very well. I shall be off after the family breakfasts. I should arrive home well in time for luncheon."

Mrs. Hughes nodded in reply, though curiousity was burning inside her. Where on earth was he going? Surely meeting with Mr. Travis would take only minutes, not hours. He'd mentioned several errands last night, and she'd sensed that he was reluctant to reveal them to her. She would have to content herself with not knowing. For the time being.

*CE*

Charles had been rather cheerful on his walk to the village. He was pleased to be out on such a day performing such an errand. His visit with Mr. Travis had been succinct. If Mr. Travis were shocked, he'd done an admirable job of concealing it. A date was fixed for slightly less than three weeks hence. Mr. Travis had allowed himself a small smirk at Charles' eagerness for the soonest date possible, but Charles was too happy to take offense. He bid the Reverend good day, then proceeded along his way.

He had a further errand in the village, one that would be significantly more daunting, but one that was in the interest of ensuring his future happiness and that of Elsie's, most especially. He would just have to take his medicine, though he hoped not literally.

*CE*

He inquired of the first nurse as to the availability of Dr. Clarkson, and he was told to wait on the bench outside the examination room. Fortunately, the doctor was not terribly busy, so Charles' wait was very brief.

"Good morning, Mr. Carson. What brings you in on this fine morning? You're not feeling ill, are you?"

"No, not at all. In fact, I've seldom felt better. I…I merely had some questions for you."

"Questions? Of course. Won't you come in?" Charles followed the doctor through and tried to disguise the trembling of his hands by twirling his hat in them. "Please, sit down." He gestured to a chair opposite his desk, waited for Charles to be seated, then took his own. "Now then. What can I do for you?"

"You might have heard…well, probably you haven't yet. It's all very recent, and-" He looked into the doctor's face, his calm expression belied only by the twinkle in his eyes. "You see, I am to be married."

"Married! Indeed. Well, that is a bit of happy news. Allow me to offer my congratulations to you. May I ask to whom you are engaged?" As if I didn't know.

"You may. It is my privilege to announce that Mrs. Hughes has accepted my offer of marriage. I've just been to see Mr. Travis about the reading of the banns."

"Well, I congratulate you again on your good fortune. There is no finer woman than Mrs. Hughes. Please convey to her my best wishes."

Charles nodded in acceptance of the doctor's compliments. "It's only…you see…I had certain questions regarding matrimony. Well, matrimonial-" He looked helplessly at the doctor. My god! To be 64 years old and as tongue-tied as a young lad. Well, and who wouldn't be? He could hear Elsie's brogue. Not now, man. Definitely not now.

The doctor nodded briskly. "I see. You are wondering about sexual intercourse?" Best to take a clinical approach, thought Dr. Clarkson. The poor man is suffering in the extreme.

Charles nodded dismally.

"You are familiar with the mechanics of it, I presume?"

Charles' eyes flew open in surprise. "I…I…" He closed his mouth firmly, then closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an effort to control his thoughts. He looked the doctor in the eye. "I am familiar with the idea of it, doctor."

"I see." Clarkson did his best to hide his shock. Oh dear lord! Presumably Mrs. Hughes knew very little of it herself. He had talks with young men, whenever possible, about the duties of being a husband; he advised restraint, particularly in the beginning, and encouraged them to be as patient and gentle as possible. He often wished he were able to have such frank discussions with the brides, but he could only do so much, as in this case. "Well. As far as you are aware, you have no problems with impotence?"

"Impotence?" Charles looked at him blankly.

"Yes. An inability to sustain an erection?"

Charles blushed a mortifying shade of red. "No, no I don't think so." He would not think of last night. He would not.

"Then you should be able to engage in normal sexual activity. Have you…" He paused, trying to think of a way to phrase his next question in such a way that would not offend Mr. Carson nor cast aspersions on Mrs. Hughes. "I presume you have shared some physical contact with your fiancée?"

Charles looked shocked. "I'm not sure what you're implying, doctor! Mrs. Hughes is-"

Dr. Clarkson held up his hand. "I'm quite certain of that, Mr. Carson. I only meant to determine whether a certain level of comfort had been exchanged between you." By gods this was painful.

Charles relaxed visibly. "Yes, we have exchanged a certain amount of… comfort. I just…I'm not sure how to…whether it would be best to-"

Dr. Clarkson stopped him in mid-sentence. "If you'll wait here for one moment." The doctor disappeared into a closet. Charles could hear him shuffling papers about. He emerged a few moments later holding a slim pamphlet. "This was written by an American, but don't let that put you off." He handed Charles the book. It's very good. I think you'll find it answers most of your questions quite thoroughly."

Charles studied the cover: Married Life and Happiness: Or, Love and Comfort in Marriage. "You expect me to read this? I can't…I couldn't possibly take this back to the Abbey! It's unseemly!"

"Mr. Carson," began Dr. Clarkson in a stern tone. "What is unseemly is allowing ignorance and pride to ruin not only your wedding night, but perhaps your entire marriage! Discussing such matters frankly with anyone, even a doctor, is very difficult, Mr. Carson, and I commend you for it. It shows a level of devotion to Mrs. Hughes that very few men are capable of reaching. Don't let's ruin it all now by letting outdated notions of propriety cloud the true task at hand, which is to be a kind and gentle husband. Your first duty now is to Mrs. Hughes and her care and comfort." He gestured to the pamphlet. "That book will help you, so take it with you and read it, for heaven's sake! And feel free to consult me at any time. I'm a doctor, and I was married," he added in a softer tone. "Marriage is a wonderful institution Mr. Carson, the true blending of two disparate souls into one, as long as one is willing. Are you willing, Mr. Carson?" Charles nodded mutely. "Very good. Now don't look so glum, man! You are about to embark on a most delightful journey, and may I say again that you couldn't have chosen a partner more equally suited to you and the task ahead."

Charles wasn't quite sure there wasn't something a bit risqué in the doctor's last comment, but he decided to ignore it. The man was only trying to help, after all. Perhaps this little book was just what he needed. Even if it had been written by an American. He rose and placed the book carefully in his waistcoat pocket. "Thank you, doctor," he said gravely. "You've been most helpful."

"I hope so. Please come and see me again if you've any other questions," he finished delicately. He watched as Mr. Carson turned and made his way out of the room. He shook his head ruefully. The book would help, if only the bloody fool would read it! He wondered if there were a way to get a copy of it into Mrs. Hughes' hands, though he couldn't be absolutely sure she would read such a book. Ah, well. There were limits to what he could do. In cases like these, he simply had to trust to Providence (and Elsie Hughes' good sense) to sort things out.