A lot of talking in this chapter, but hopefully it will explain some things. Inspector Lewis will return in future chapters.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are owned by me. I earn nothing from them and receive no compensation other than the pleasure of writing and the addiction of reviews.
Charles had his head leaned back against the seat and eyes closed. He was already exhausted, and the day was barely half over. They were seated in the car with only the chauffer for company, in the back seat over his own vehement protests, waiting for Mr. Crawley to clear up one or two things so that he could take them back to Downton. He opened one eye to look at Elsie and realized that at least some of his exhaustion stemmed from very little sleep the night before, but even if he'd known what they'd have to face today, he wouldn't have done anything differently. Last night had been the best of his life, to this point at least. He hoped now, if they could work through this new difficulty, that there would be many more nights like that one.
"Are you smiling?" Elsie hissed at him, "That doesn't seem at all appropriate."
He leaned closer to her so that he could speak just beside her ear, "It is probably not, but I was thinking about the best night of my life."
She gave his hand a squeeze and rested her head against his shoulder, "I hope that you mean last night because it certainly was for me. I just wish it hadn't been followed by today."
He returned the squeeze and reassured her, "I would have preferred today be different, but this is not all bad. It means that we can be married with little difficulty now."
"Little difficulty?" she asked incredulously, "You mean other than the police taking that as one more reason you or I would have killed him."
He scowled at her, "Elsie, they know we were together last night. I don't think our marrying will change their opinion on that score, and…" He stopped himself, not wanting to worry her any further.
"And?"
"And it will be the proper thing to do since I've besmirched your honor," he said lightly, hoping she'd accept his hurried explanation.
She narrowed her eyes at him, "That is not what you were going to say."
He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably and looked straight into her eyebrows, "I have no idea what you mean."
"Charles, you're a horrid liar, one of your best qualities. What were you going to say?" she asked flatly.
He sighed, wishing again that he could be just a little dishonest with her, "And if the worst happens, it will be a comfort to me to know you'll inherit what little bit I've been able to save."
She tensed instantly and turned from him, "Don't even think that. I couldn't bear it if…"
"It won't," he said firmly and squeezed her hand again; "The man from the hotel didn't say it was me. He couldn't be sure that it wasn't me, but he wouldn't say that it was me either. That's something, and our coming back is in our favor. And the timing doesn't quite fit; even that Inspector Lewis said so. If they really believed it was me, they would have charged me."
She nodded and seemed the tiniest bit reassured, "Our stories matched. They wouldn't have if we were lying, and I'm convinced that's why they separated us."
"Yes, of course it was," he agreed, "Inspector Lewis doesn't seem to be anyone's fool. He surmised why you had left your marriage immediately." When she looked at him questioningly, Charles added, "He noticed your scar, I believe."
"That must have been why he was so solicitous of me," she said, shaking her head. "He was very accusing at first, wondering why I'd deserted my husband, but after he'd spoken with you for a little while, he said he could see why I sought comfort with another."
He looked at her gravely, "I didn't reveal any confidences. He did ask about the scar, but I merely told him that your husband had been harsh with you. He deduced the rest."
She met his eyes squarely and whispered fiercely, "Charles, love, if it keeps you from being accused of a murder you didn't commit, you can describe every inch of me to him in minute detail along with everything we did last night and this morning."
His cheeks flamed red as her words brought far too many images to mind; the softness of her skin, her lips moving against his, her hands roaming over his back, the taste of her on his tongue. He cleared his throat quickly and tried to change the subject, "If there was anyone else they could blame, I'm sure that they wouldn't even look twice at me."
"Possibly," she mused, "You have to admit that both of us have a strong motive. The way he treated me and you, my lover, determined to get revenge."
He nodded, glad that looking at this logically could distract both her and him, "And I suppose there is a financial incentive. After all, you will probably inherit the farm now."
"Oh no, that will go to Peter I'm sure," she said, still distracted.
"Peter?" He hadn't heard her mention him before.
"Joe's son, or rather his stepson from his first marriage," she said, "He's been in the army these past few years, but I'm sure he'll come back and take over the farm."
He looked at her speculatively, "He was married twice and still no children?"
She shook her head, "Of course I thought of that too. I even said as much to him…once."
"That man," Charles growled, "I almost wish I could have met him at least once."
She squeezed his hand tighter, "I, on the other hand, am glad that you did not, for just that reason."
A thought occurred to him, "Are you quite sure that Peter is still in the army?"
"No, of course not, I've not been in touch with him since before I left," she narrowed her eyes at him, "You don't think…?"
He inclined his head, "The farm would be a good inheritance, and if he was going to divorce you, Peter might have been afraid he would marry a younger woman."
"One who might give him an heir," Elsie finished his thought for him, "But Charles, Peter was a good lad. We never completely got along, too much resentment on his part, but I can't believe he would do this."
"Was Joe rough with him as well?" That would be one more possible motive.
Elsie shook her head, "He wasn't particularly close to him, but he never harmed him. From some things Peter said, I think his mother might not have been so fortunate."
Charles wondered if that might be the other motive. A boy growing up and seeing his step-father be cruel to not one but two women. Elsie was worrying her bottom lip again however, and he was certain that he knew the reason. Lifting his hand to her cheek, he brushed his thumb over her lip.
"I thought we agreed that you would stop that habit," he said softly
She scowled at him, "You agreed. I'll stop that habit when you stop being so bossy."
He smiled, "I suppose I should give your bottom lip up for lost then. What's worrying you, love?"
"My estranged husband is dead. My lover is all but excused of murder. His reputation is ruined because I led him astray. I now have no job, and I'm certain Downton will not want their butler's paramour as housekeeper. And to top it all off, a dear, sweet little lad may very well have killed his stepfather out of spite. This is a terrible mess, and I can't help feeling that I caused it all. If only I had just stayed with him," she finished with shining eyes.
"If only you had just stayed with him, you would at the least have more scars on your person and might very well be dead by now," he said fiercely. "Don't blame yourself for the misery he caused."
"Charles," she began, but he cut her off.
"Elsie, love, things might not work out perfectly, but we will find our way through this, and we will do it together," he said, "If you'll consent, we'll do it as husband and wife. I can speak to the vicar tomorrow."
She shook her head at him, "When you get a thought on your mind, you won't let it go will you? Will you always expect to have your own way?"
"Always and forever, my dear," he smiled and waited for her answer.
Her face softened into a relaxed smile, "Then always and forever it must be."
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