A/N: Thank you everybody for voting! Just a little note to say that it isn't always easy coming up with three choices every day and I am sorry that yesterday's felt a bit same-ish. I hope today will be better. And if not, at least it was two thirds smut. Don't forget to vote and don't forget I think you are all awesome.

Results for chapter 24, based on 20 votes:

#1: 14 votes, #2: 4 votes, #3: 2 votes

Previously: It will be fine." He says and pulls her into a gentle embrace. "I'll come up with you, we'll both change. We'll need to discuss living arrangements, who we can trust to keep an eye on our charges when we are no longer in our rooms in the corridor."

He is all practicality and it soothes her to know he is not flustered, that the panic she feels rising in her chest is not shared by him. She follows him inside, up the narrow staircase to the attics and into his room. The corridor is deserted, everyone is hard at work, as they are supposed to be.

"Allow me..." He murmurs against her neck as he wraps his arms around her from behind. His door is now closed, they stand against it and she nods in agreement.

He helps her with her coat, then starts unhooking the hooks and eyes at the back of her dress, pushes the bodice down her arms, lets it fall beneath her waist. He carefully unties the laces of her corset, giving her time to adjust to the sudden influx of breath, the air expanding her lungs, her anxiety diminishing.

Her corset lies on the floor, his hand comes to rest first on her belly, the bump firm and taut. He runs his hand over the cotton of her slip and then cups her breast, soft and enlarged. He kisses her neck again, nips at the skin and whispers in her ear:

"I love you. You are beautiful, Elsie Carson..."

1. She leans back against him, one eye on the clock. They have time, not much, but enough to indulge.

She presses herself back against him, his desire for her evident as it lays hard against the supple flesh of her bottom. His fingers gather the fabric of her slip until it's bunched in his hands and he lifts it over her bum, losing contact for a mere moment. Then he reveals her belly and breasts and she sees herself in the small mirror affixed to the wall, where she takes care of her careful coiffe each morning.

He rids himself of his shirt, lowers his trousers, his shorts. He toes off his shoes, manages to be quite naked in seconds and he leads her towards to bed and he lays her down gently.

He kisses her ankle, her calf, his fingertips featherlight next to his lips and she sighs in happy anticipation. He tickles the back of her knee, strokes the inside of her thigh and lays down beside her and claims her mouth tenderly. She turns to him, her arms sliding up his chest, one slipping around his neck. She toys with the soft curls in the nape of his neck and hums contentedly into their kiss.

He alights a fire in her, one she has never been able to deny, but it feels acute somehow: the ring still on its chain around her neck, nestled between her breasts, their child safe within her and between them. She loves him. She loves him. She loves him and she pushes herself against him again, urging him to touch her.

His hand is at her waist, then her hipbone - or where she knows it hides these days - and then he cups her mound. She moans when he rubs the tiny nub at the forefront of her folds, arches into his touch and he smiles when she opens her eyes and looks at him.

His smile is filled with happiness and love and Elsie reaches up, cups his cheek.

"We're going to be just fine." She whispers before clambering up with some difficulty due to her altered center of gravity and straddles him.

2. She turns in his arms and plunders his mouth with a starving hunger, her fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt, pushing his jacket from his shoulders, pushing and pulling him until he catches on this time it's not about tenderness but that it's a howling need, a fire that needs to extinguished.

Soon they are in just the barest of necessities: she in her shift, he in his shorts and she takes his hand, pulls him to the bed where she makes him lay down and she strokes his shins, his knees, his thighs and his erection through the cotton of his pants. He is looking flushed but not unhappy. Normally it's he who takes the lead, but maybe because they are married now he enjoys giving her the control? She doesn't think about it much as she yanks his shorts down and settles herself above him, lowers herself and hisses with the familiar feeling of his stretching her, filling her, making her more whole in some way.

She rocks back and forth, her hair coming undone and she pulls her shift over her head, revealing herself to him. She is all curves and softness now. Her breasts are heavy and swing with her movements, her belly is still high, but very obvious as she leans back, supporting herself on her hands that find purpose on his thighs. Her wedding ring on its chain around her neck bobs up and down against the ivory skin of her chest.

He has grabbed her hips, his fingers digging in her soft flesh, their rhythm causing her narrow bed to groan in protest and neither of them has noticed the cook until it's too late and a heavy Yorkshire accent sounds:

"Oh my God, Elsie Hughes!"

3. "I love you, too." She takes his hand from her breast and wraps it around her for just a moment, relishing this moment of shared intimacy. She looks at the clock, they have little time before they are expected back and she still hasn't a plan for announcing her pregnancy.

She lays her hand over his as it's on her bump and she knows that though things may not be ideal, at least her child is loved, will be looked after proper. She'll hold it close soon, feed it, clothe it, sing to it. Their child will make them a family, something she had never thought she wanted until this happened.

"What are you going to say?" She asks, breaking away from him, the loss of his touch felt vividly. She opens the wardrobe and pulls out the dress she has been working on for weeks. It's as black as the ones she's always worn, it's of the same fabric, she has stitched all the hems as evenly, but there is room for her belly in this one. Room to expand.

She pulls a pair of clean drawers out and puts them on, feeling Charles' eyes upon her at all times an slips the dress over her head. She hooks it closed and studies herself in the mirror.

"Erm… I… I was just…" He shakes his head before managing to pull himself together. "I was going to say that the good Lord had finally blessed us…"

She shakes her head. "You think it's wise to use the Lord's name in vain like that?"

She wonders if they've not been punished enough, there's no need to provoke more. Or worse.

"What would you have me say?" He asks, his eyes fixed upon her chest.

"Simply that you've felt it's time to announce your wife is with child and that allowances will have to be made."

He nods.

"We'll be fine." She assures him, feeling safe and secure in her new dress, her ring nestled between her breasts, her marriage a testament of her respectability.