I'm not even sure how to preface this chapter, other than to say it is Charles' turn. Explicit language and imagery appear in this chapter. Guns violence is prevalent (but so is love and joy). You all continue to amaze and blow me away with your kindness. XO

The shipping forecast hadn't led anyone astray. Whitby was fairly throttled with heavy rains and storms the newlyweds' second night at The Sandcastle.

Elsie was making a late night trip to the kitchen for a glass of wine for Charles and an apple for herself when a bright bolt of lightning filled the sky outside, the immediate thunder following it causing her to jump as the house was suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Bloody hell!" She stopped where she was, a few steps from the bottom of the stairs, trying to remember where she had seen the nearest candles and matches. Waiting for another bolt of lightning to illuminate the room, she reached out to grab the railing when a flash briefly lit the entry and she spotted a candlestick on a table next to the main door. Clutching the bannister, she was carefully feeling for the next step when she heard Charles call out.

"Elsie? Honey, can you hear me? Where are you?"

"Yes. I'm almost to the bottom of the steps."

"Wait! Don't move." The light of a single candle suddenly appeared at the top of the landing. "Wait. Let me come and get you."

"I'm only a step or two…"

He sighed with exasperation, his tone terse as he sharply ordered, "Elsie! I said don't move!"

Elsie flinched, his tone different than any other time he had addressed her, but not unlike the harsh words that had been spat at her by her father and uncle during her adolescence. She remained facing away from him, waiting to speak until he was within a few steps of her. "Why did you talk to me like that?"

"What?"

"I said don't move!" She mimicked him.

"I didn't want you to miss a step and fall." He was shocked by the anger in her voice. "I didn't mean to upset you. It is pitch dark and you are in an unfamiliar place…"

"It isn't what you said, it was how you said it. I have been bullied by men my entire life," she could no longer hold back her angry tears, "…I can't bear it if you do it, too..."

"Oh, Elsie, oh, sweetheart…" Charles wrapped his free arm around her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just pictured you falling and I panicked. I don't ever want you to feel like I am bullying you. Never. Never ever." He kissed her head, his stomach swimming with regret and guilt as she trembled against him.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I am just…"

"Shhh… You have nothing to be sorry for. I am the one who is sorry. Why don't we go into the library?"

Their path lit by Charles' candle, they slowly and carefully made their way into the large room, remnants of the banked fire casting a slight glow in the darkness. "I'm having a whiskey. Would you like some water?" Charles led her to the sofa nearest the drinks table.

"I'd rather have whiskey, but I know that isn't an option right now, so yes, water, please."

Drinks poured, Charles handed her the water, but paused before sitting, sensing she was still feeling the sting of his words. Choosing to sit at the far end of the sofa near the side table, Charles waited for her to speak first. Almost a minute passed before Elsie turned her head in his direction, her words coinciding with a flash of lightning.

"You weren't just worried I was going to fall. You lost your temper."

Charles took a sip of his drink before answering. "I did, but only for a moment."

"I've never seen you upset like that."

Charles leaned back against the back of the couch. "I have control over it now. If I didn't I would have killed that Tufton in our street. There was a time I didn't have control"

Elsie shifted away from him slightly, but turned so she was looking at him as she folded one of her legs under her. "And when was that?"

"It wasn't bad before the war. I was firm, but fair with my students and I never let some idiot in a pub get to me, but after I had seen a lot of combat that first year, something changed. I was quick to frustrate and quick to lash out at those who caused my frustration. Robert and JoMo even caught the end of my forked tongue a time or two, but luckily they are my friends and forgave me."

"Does this have anything to do with the Battle for Caen?"

Charles rubbed his hand over his face, suddenly exhausted by the mere mention of the event. "It was particularly bad then."

"With that Thomas you mentioned?"

"Yes."

"And with the German who shot you?"

"No, as it happens, the German was dead when I was shot with his gun."

Elsie leaned forward in an effort to read his face in the dwindling firelight. "What? How? What do you mean?"

"If I am going to tell you, I am going to need more whiskey."

Elsie built up the fire as Charles stood before the bar. She glanced over her shoulder at him a few times between poking at the newly added wood, but found she couldn't make out more than his slouched figure in the low light. Crawling back onto the couch, she curled her knees up, hugging them to her as he returned to the far end of the sofa.

"I told you Robert and Joseph and I were in the same company, but there was another man of note who was also in our unit." Charles took a drink, his voice low as he pronounced the man's name. "Charles Grigg, but everyone called him Charlie since I was Charles. JoMo and Robert didn't really have an issue with him, but I disliked him from the word go. He was forever playing the clown and telling jokes. Don't get me wrong, I understand there is a need for levity when things are as serious and as frightening as they are in war, but there was just something off-putting about his humor and…well, just him. He stole things; watches, razors…small thing he thought would go unnoticed or given up as misplaced and then sell or trade them with fellows in the other companies we would encounter."

"Did you turn him in?"

Charles shook his head. "I never caught him red handed. He was a talented pickpocket."

"How did you know it was him?"

"Because he didn't have a pot to piss in, pardon my language, but always seemed to have a pair of nylons or a tube of lipstick when we would come across a pretty French girl in a village."

"Ahh." Elsie immediately understood how a man as moral, not to mention respectful of women, as Charles was would find this other man's behavior repugnant. "So the four of you were in the same company with this Thomas?"

Charles shook his head. "We came upon Thomas when the four of us sought refuge in a farm house near the bridge in Caen."

"Came upon? Was he wounded?"

"Hiding. He had escaped detention by the military police and was hiding with the family who lived in the house."

Elsie sat up, the story becoming more intriguing. "Why was he being detained?"

"He had been caught in flagrante with a French soldier."

Elsie's eyes widened. "He was arrested simply because he was caught making love with another man?"

"He broke the law."

Elsie was struck by Charles simple answer. "What was to be his punishment?"

"Imprisonment in a military jail and then he would have been forced to face criminal proceedings in Britain."

"Where he would have either had to serve jail time or be chemically castrated?"

It was Charles' turn to flinch at Elsie's words. "I suppose so."

Elsie shook her head. "No wonder he tried to escape."

Charles didn't comment, choosing instead to take a sip of whiskey.

"So you found this Thomas with the family?"

Charles nodded. "Grigg had heard of a missing prisoner named Barrow and this fellow fit his description. Anyone who found him was under orders to detain him and we had a pair of shackles, so we each took turns being bound to him."

"Good God. How did he take that?"

"Not well. Robert and I were bigger than he was, so he was simply sullen when in our charge, but he tormented Joseph, which was ironic because he was the only one of us who showed him any kindness; giving him extra bits of his rations and offering him his bedroll when he wasn't using it. I told you I hated Thomas. I didn't hate him because of how he was or for anything he had done before we knew him. It had crossed my mind to let him go so he could take his chances in the field rather than keep him prisoner, but I didn't because I hated him for being so ungrateful and terrible to one of the kindest men I have ever known."

Elsie shook her head, her heart aching at the thought of poor JoMo being on the recipient of anyone's cruelty.

"More than once, I relieved Joseph of his responsibility of guarding Thomas so I could release some of my pent up anger by jerking him around and berating him for his hatefulness."

"I see." Elsie's voice was quiet. "And Grigg?"

"I think Grigg was the catalyst for Thomas being so cruel to Joseph. He was merciless with his talk of how disgusting he found the man's actions and would go on and on in great detail about the sort of punishment Thomas could look forward to once he had been handed over to the authorities. Grigg was cruel and rough and Thomas had no means of defense. His only way to act out was to attack the man who had shown him a trace of kindness and humanity."

"And you let Grigg get away with that? Weren't you in charge?" Elsie's tone wasn't accusatory, but mystified.

Charles shook his head. "I kept a journal of misdeeds that I was going to file against Grigg the next time we were in contact with a commander. Other than verbally reprimanding him and taking away his guard shifts, both of which I did, I really had no other recourse at the time. It turned out it was fortunate that I did take his guard shifts or we would have all been murdered in our beds."

Elsie moved nearer, his frightening admission inspiring her to be closer him. "What happened?"

"It was the middle of the night and I was shackled to Thomas and we were going to step outside to relieve ourselves when he noticed movement in the bushes. We stepped back into the house just in time to hear the mother of the family scream and then four shots were fired."

Elsie gasped, grabbing Charles' hand.

"Thomas and I were closest so we made our way to the room and threw open the door just in time to see the German soldier climbing through where he had busted through a boarded up window."

"The mother?"

"Dead. As was her husband and little boy."

Elsie leaned her head against the sofa, tears running down her cheeks, "Jesus Christ."

Charles swallowed hard before continuing. "I was pulling my gun when Thomas suddenly threw himself on top of me just as the soldier shot in our direction."

"But you weren't hit?"

Charles inhaled deeply. "Thomas. I felt something warm on my hand. Thomas caught a bullet in his arm and was bleeding on me."

Elsie cringed, tightening her grip on Charles' hand. "What about the German soldier?"

"He was advancing towards us when Grigg suddenly appeared in the doorway. I managed to get my gun pulled and when the soldier aimed at Charlie, I got off three shots. One in his leg, one in his chest and one in his head."

Elsie cupped his cheek with her hand, "Good." She couldn't help but stroke his face as she thought of the murdered family and the vengeance Charles had sought on their behalf. Wiping her eyes, Elsie sat back and moved her hand to Charles' arm as she asked, "What happened next?"

"Grigg."

"You had just saved his life."

Charles nodded. "And he repaid me by trying to kill me."

"What?"

Charles reached for and then swallowed the rest of his drink before finishing the story. "The German had fallen forward and was laying on Thomas who was on top of me. He had groaned a few times, but hadn't moved since we had fallen after that first shot. Grigg came around and bent over, looked me straight in the eye and said, "I found your little book." He picked up the German's gun and aimed it at my face, but just as he was about to pull the trigger, Thomas suddenly jerked up, knocking the gun away."

"He saved you twice?"

"Yes, he did."

"What happened next?"

I scrambled to get out from under Thomas and the German, but Grigg jumped on top of us and was trying to get at me with the gun, but Thomas continued to struggle against him and I got my gun up and managed to shoot Grigg in the shoulder. Thomas was almost off of me when I heard a shot and he fell down limp against me."

"Grigg killed Thomas?" Elsie's voice trembled.

"Yes. I was so stunned by it, I didn't realize Grigg had managed to point the gun at my side until I heard and felt the next three shots. He was aiming for my abdomen, but hit my hip."

"He shot you and Thomas with the German's gun." Elsie shook her head, willing herself to keep calm for Charles's sake.

"I passed out and don't remember anything else until I woke up in a field hospital and saw Isobel looking down at me."

"Grigg?"

"Was conscious when Joseph and Robert found us and told them my gun had accidentally gone off and struck him when the German shot me. Said Thomas was dead when he got in the room, but that he had managed to get a hold of my gun and shoot the German dead. He was declared a hero and given several commendations."

"Bloody bastard." Elsie hissed through her teeth. "Bloody, sodding, murdering, fucking bastard!"

Charles face held a mirthless grin as he squeezed her hand. "And there's more. My journal with the record of his misdeeds was never recovered as I am sure he destroyed it and he had the audacity to visit me in the hospital. Tried to convince me I had dreamed the whole thing, but I knew what he had done. It was while he was harassing me with these visits that he struck up a friendship with my girlfriend, Alice. Wait, sorry. My fiancé, Alice."

Elsie looked at him in surprise, "You were engaged before?"

"Church booked and wedding planned for my next trip home before I was shot."

Elsie took a deep breath, "What happened?"

"Who would you rather be with? The hero or the bloody cripple?"

Elsie shook her head, groaning at the injustice of what he had just told her. "Oh my God, Charles. She left you for him?"

"It's why I was so miserable. Why I had to get away from London. Robert, Joseph, Violet and Isobel are the only ones who believed me. Even with Robert's intervention and connections, the war office wouldn't hear what I had to say. Our friends, Alice and mine, they just thought I was a pitiful victim of the war who couldn't face facts. I couldn't be there anymore. Running in the same social circles, living in the same sodding neighborhood as them."

"Of course not." Elsie leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence, listening to the dying storm for a few minutes before Charles suddenly spoke. "I didn't love her. Nothing could be plainer to me now given what I have with you. She was vain and shallow."

"Well, that's obvious if she would leave a man like you for a worthless git like him, but you don't have justify having been engaged before, Charles."

"I tried to get Thomas vindicated and recognized for his sacrifice. I wrote letters to everyone from my commanding officer to Churchill, but it didn't make a difference."

Elsie laced her fingers with his, "I'm glad to know you tried. What a sad life he must have had."

"He wasn't a bad man. I see that now. I think he led a difficult life that I can't comprehend, but he deserved better, both in life and death." Charles was quiet for a moment. "You know I wish he hadn't died, nor that innocent family?"

"Of course."

"But you know? I'm glad the rest of it happened."

Elsie jerked up, turning to look at him. "What?"

"I have been dreading telling you the story since the day Robert brought it up, but now that I have, I realize something. I wouldn't trade this bum hip or my awful recovery for anything in the world."

Elsie searched his face. "Is this the whiskey talking, Charles?"

Placing his hands on either side of her face, he began to gently kiss her cheeks and then her forehead, the tip of her nose and her chin before finally reaching her lips. "It isn't the whiskey, my sweet girl. I just realized that if all that hadn't happened, I wouldn't be married to the love of my life and she wouldn't be carrying our baby. I never thought I'd say this, but I almost want to shake that son of bitch's hand."

Elsie's eyes were filled with intensity as she looked into his. "I love you more than anyone in the world and I can't imagine my life without you, Charles, but I can't let go of what he did and the fact that he is a murderer." She inhaled sharply, the sum of Charles Grigg's trespasses feeding her belly like fuel to fire as she swore, "God help him if we ever meet because I will cut off his balls."

Charles lifted an eyebrow in surprise before pulling her to him, an appreciative grin on his face, "Oh, my sweet girl..."

Elsie woke a few hours later, clinging to Charles where they lay on the sofa.

"The lights are back on in the entry," she whispered, gently kissing his cheek. "Wake up, love. We need to get in bed or you won't be able to walk tomorrow."

"Mmmmmm…." Charles groaned as he rubbed his hand over her back. "Ugh. My head."

"That would be Scotch revenge." Elsie lovingly patted his knee. "Go on up. I'll bring you a Beecham's powder and some water."

Watching Elsie's walk towards the doorway, her body framed by the light coming through the opening, Charles realized he felt different. It was though a tremendous weight had been lifted of his chest. Smiling, he called out, "Hey, you."

She turned around, smiling. "Who me?"

"Yes. Want to get married?"

"Mmm…." She let out a small chuckle, "I think we already did that."

"Did we?"

"Mmm hmm. I wore blue and you made me cry by having your friends read beautiful things. We had a cake and our dog was there and we danced and then I told you about the sweet pea inside of me."

"Ah." Charles pushed himself up from the sofa, wincing slightly, but smiling as he made his way to her.

Elsie held out her hand to him, "And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Thank you." Charles took her hand, gently rubbing his finger over the sapphire on her left hand. "And that night, did I tell you I loved you?"

Elsie grinned as she watched him caress her finger. "I think you might have mentioned it."

"It wasn't enough."

"What?" Elsie looked up at him.

Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered, "I love you doesn't remotely begin to cover what I feel for you." Clinging to her, he knew without a doubt that all the grief, despair and angst that had been mounting within him for so long had been swallowed whole by the tremendous wave of gratefulness he felt to and for the woman in his arms; and it was with joy that he finally allowed himself to weep.