A/N: A short chapter to keep this story moving. Hope you enjoy x

Chapter 25

"Charlie ... why are you making so much noise?" Elsie groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and resting against the doorframe as she looked at her husband.

"I wasn't ... I was just washing our mugs,"

"I could hear you upstairs ... it sounded like the Battle of Flodden down here," she said crabbily, her eyes squinting a little as the sun shining through the kitchen window pierced her eyes.

He shook his head fondly at his wife; it was a refreshing turn of events for her to be the grumpy one.

"Elsie ... do you think perhaps you drank a little too much last night? Perhaps you are hungover?" he suggested gently.

"Certainly not ... I don't get hungover ... what a thing to say Charlie!" she gasped, forcing her eyes to open wider as she walked slowly to the small table and chairs.

I am Scottish. We don't get hungover, she thought. I have always been able to handle my drink. Although I do have a headache and I have definitely felt better. I must be coming down with a sickness bug or something, she reasoned.

Truth be told, Elsie had only dragged herself out of bed because she knew they had to get to Church.

He watched his wife hesitate as she looked at the bowl of porridge in front of her.

"I may just have a slice of toast ..." she said deadpan.

######

"So you had fun with Mr Branson and his sweetheart?" Beryl asked, as she and Elsie walked ahead of Charles and Bill.

They were on their way home from Church. Thankfully, the fresh air and the calm of the service had eased Elsie's 'sickness bug' a little.

"We did, quite unexpectedly. I think they are a very good match," Elsie said happily.

"Well I'm glad ... and I'm glad you and Charlie got to let your hair down. Just think, in a month you'll both be retired," Beryl stated.

"I know ... and then a month after that, you'll be retired as well," Elsie smiled at her friend.

Beryl had no wish to be at Downton once her best friend retired; she would stay on for one more month to aid transition. Daisy had agreed to take over the running of the kitchen at the House; she wasn't needed as much at the Farm now that Beryl was there with Bill and the younger woman missed Andy when she wasn't at Downton anyway. Beryl was still running her cottage as a Bed and Breakfast but eventually she and Bill planned to live there. The Farmer hoped that Daisy and Andy might take over the Farm in the next couple of years.

"Who'd have thought it ... two more months and we'll both be retired, married women!" Beryl chimed.

"No-one would have thought it ... not even us!" Elsie laughed.

"Well, for fear of sounding soppy ... I am very glad of it," Beryl whispered, looking over her shoulder at the two men chatting amiably a few steps behind them.

Elsie looked over her shoulder as well and the sweetest smile appeared on her face.

"I am too," she breathed.

######

"Damn and blast!"

Elsie heard the shout even from the sitting-room. She rose swiftly and rushed to the back door. As she opened it she witnessed Charles clutching one hand in the other and she could see blood already seeping into his shirt cuff.

"Charlie, what's happened?" she cried, as she grabbed a tea-towel from the kitchen cupboard and hurried across to him.

"It's this bloody shaky hand ... I ended up banging a nail into my hand ... my good hand as well," he said.

He'd only been mending a bit of loose fencing; he thought he could manage.

"Oh Charlie, don't worry ..." she said softly, she could see how agitated he was.

His face was crumpled and his eyes heavy with misery and frustration as he looked down at his tattered hands, one noticeably shaking and one covered in blood; feeling frustrated with himself and his condition.

She couldn't bear to see him like this. He had been coping so well and the tremors seemed to have eased since he had left his full-time role. However, he'd sometimes have a bad spell although it thankfully didn't seem to last too long.

She gripped his hand in the tea-towel, pressing hard to stop the bleeding.

"Don't worry? I'm useless Els ... worse than useless," he sighed heavily.

"You are no such thing Charles Carson, no such thing ... and I'll have none of that ... I for one couldn't do without you. Accidents happen to the best of us, look at me and those stairs ..." she said, determined to soothe him, to calm his frayed nerves.

They were both looking down at his hands; the gash wasn't as bad as it had first appeared, it looked like the worst was over. He gazed upwards to see his wife's kind and loving face.

"Let's go inside love," she smiled.

He replied with an exhausted smile and let his wife lead him inside. She held his quivering hand in her fingers, caressing his skin softly.

As they reached the kitchen, Elsie pushed Charles gently down into a chair as she collected a bowl of warm water and some antiseptic ointment and cotton wool. She also collected a clean towel and a small bandage from the first aid box. She laid all of the bits on the table and was about to sit on the chair beside him when Charles wrapped his unsteady hand around her waist and pulled her down to sit on his knee. She smiled lovingly at her husband, kissing his soft hair. He rested his hand on her hip as she laid the clean towel on her knee, placing his injured hand on this as she began the task of cleaning the wound. She worked in silence and Charles didn't speak either, both needing the quietness to gather their thoughts.

When his hand was clean and bandaged, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he still held her waist, drawing his head to rest on her chest as she placed further delicate, warm kisses to his hair. They still did not speak but she could feel her husband calming as they both held tightly to the other and she continued to pepper his hair and face with tiny caresses, one hand now stroking his back. The soothing touches and kisses from Elsie helped to lull Charles as he rested against her. She heard him exhale a long, wispy breath. Everything is alright, he thought. I have Elsie, he reflected happily, his eyes closed as he felt cossetted, loved and spoiled.

"Better?" she whispered softly, kissing the side of his temple.

"Better," he rumbled peacefully.