Here we go! All Chelsie, and I hope I didn't promote it so much that it fails to live up to expectations. Shout-out to deeedeee, who has a special nod in this chapter if she knows where to look (which, by now, she should, because third time's a charm, girl!).

My thanks to brenna-louise for the beta, and to all of you for the love. The next chapter will be rather long, so it'll be a few days for me to get it squared away. And pardon any typos herein, because I changed some things after Brenna looked at it.

The song lyrics for this chapter are from a lovely old song by Whitney Houston and Jermaine Jackson entitled "If You Say My Eyes Are Beautiful." It's on my Spotify playlist for this fic. It is such a lovely song, and I really encourage you to listen to it either on YouTube or Spotify before reading this chapter … it speaks so much to the love I've been trying to convey here. If you're like me, you may not have heard it in about twenty-five years. :)

xx,

CSotA

I could hold you close forever

And never let you go,

If you say my eyes are beautiful

It's because I just love you so.

Now my heart is an open door,

Won't you come inside for more?

You give love so sweetly now,

Take my love, take me completely now.

If you say my eyes are beautiful

It's because they're looking at you.

Saturday, April 4, 2105

Charles had just dropped Daisy off at Edith's for an Easter Eve sleepover, and he smiled as he remembered how excited his little girl had been to get there. She knew that Bertie had a huge Easter egg hunt planned for the girls in the morning, and she was committed to finding more eggs than Marigold would. Charles had spent a lovely day with his girl: they'd had lunch at The Cheeky Devil, where they'd had a chance to visit with Beryl and even meet Ethel's little boy, Charlie, who stopped by with Andy to pick Ethel up from her morning shift, and then they'd spent a leisurely afternoon at the mall picking up a few things she needed for school and something small for supper – and managed to avoid the dreaded Justice store, for which Charles was eternally grateful.

But things hadn't been all happy in Daisy's little mind and, when Charles had asked her about it, she'd confessed that she was worried the Easter Bunny might not realize she was away. Charles reassured her that he would, in fact, find her (having taken care of that last week in a clandestine meeting with Bertie when the girls were in school). He felt a small pang in his heart at the realization that, given she'd be nine next month and in fourth grade in the fall, this may well be the last time the Easter Bunny would need to visit her. He did regret that she'd not be spending tomorrow morning with him but took solace in the fact that they'd had a wonderful Christmas morning last December; in addition, Daisy was becoming more and more independent every day, the desire to sleep over at Edith and Bertie's house only one small indicator of that.

And so, as Charles bid his daughter goodbye and pulled away from the Pelhams' home, he turned his thoughts to spending a quiet evening with the lovely woman who was awaiting his return.

As Charles pulled into the driveway and parked, he took note of the appearance of Elsie's house. The setting sun was reflected off of the water in the pond, the surface now completely thawed after a long, cold winter, and he smiled as he noticed one of the ducks dive under to capture its dinner. Making his way up the path to the front door he took in a deep breath of springtime: fragrant flowers coming into bloom, a gentle whiff of the nearby ocean, and the newly-trimmed grass. He could easily imagine living here for the rest of his days, and he laughed when he realized how far this scene was from the life he'd left behind in England.

Guess you didn't know yourself as well as you thought you did, old man.

He reached out and opened the door, and Max came bounding out.

"Hi there," Charles said, bending down to scratch Max behind the ears. "You need a bath, my friend – you smell like you were in the pond earlier," he said playfully, and Max let out a playful bark. He ran to get his favorite ball and returned to drop it at Charles's feet.

"Okay, here you go," Charles said, throwing the ball down the drive and laughing as Max flew after it, only to bring it back, run inside, curl up on his bed, and promptly settle in for a nap.

"One toss and you're tired? You must have been busy today," Charles laughed.

"He was!" Elsie's voice called to him from down by the bedroom, and Charles took off his jacket and shoes and headed off to find her.

Three steps from the bedroom he came to a halt, his eyes taking in the flickering light before him. He proceeded slowly after a few seconds. "Elsie?" he asked tentatively, and he heard her giggle.

Giggle?

When he entered the room he saw the reason for the flickering light: candles, everywhere. There were tea lights in small jars all over the bureau, two larger candles on the nightstand, and votives tucked in here and there on the shelves.

"Hi there," came her soft voice, the brogue he'd come to love somehow sounding thicker tonight. He turned in the direction of the bathroom … and found himself breathless at the sight of his fiancée, standing in a rather revealing (and new, he thought, definitely not seen that before) negligée, dark blue in color to match her eyes, and cut low in front and high above the knee. She was leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed underneath her bosom, and a playful look on her face. "I wondered when you'd be back," she said. "You were gone quite a while."

He was speechless – absolutely, positively speechless. He swallowed, twice, but still couldn't manage any words at all.

"Charlie?" Elsie asked, a bit concerned now. Oh my God, is he unhappy? Perhaps he thinks this is ridiculous – we aren't teenagers, and …

His swift movements quelled her worries instantly as he crossed the room and wrapped an arm around her, ever cognizant that she was not 100% healed but well aware by the scene before him that she finally felt she was healed enough. He cupped her cheek in his other hand and placed a loving kiss to her lips, the tips of his fingers buried in her hair and pressed gently against the back of her head.

"I wasn't sure if you thought me silly," she admitted when they broke apart, and she laughed as his eyes widened. "Well, you didn't say anything," she added.

"Silly?" he finally managed to choke out. "Are you joking, woman?" His voice rumbled in his chest and she could feel it under her palms, which were currently flat on his chest.

"No," she said, slipping her fingers underneath his collar as she nibbled her lip. "Not at all. I was a bit worried."

"Elsie," he said, his eyebrows raised as he gently squeezed her shoulders with his hands, "I have been waiting weeks for this night."

She laughed softly and nodded. "Me, too. Just … be careful, and … well, you know."

"We have our instructions, yes, I know," he said. "And I promise to be so very, very gentle with you," he added, sliding a finger underneath the strap of the nightie. "And how, may I ask, did you manage to procure this lovely little number?" he added in a whisper. "Because I know you did not drive anywhere to get it, and no packages have come in the mail."

Elsie laughed softly but shook her head. "A true woman of mystery never gives up her secrets, Mr. Carson."

"I see. Well, more's the pity." He tugged at the tied strap until it fell off her shoulder, where he placed faint kisses to the skin that had been underneath it.

"You may be the death of me," she whispered, her head tilting to the side so that his lips could travel from her shoulder to her collarbone, up her neck, and to that sweet spot just below her ear that he knew was extra sensitive; he spent quite a bit of time there before he allowed his tongue to roam again.

"Never," he breathed.

"Wait," she said, backing away just a bit. "You have way too many articles of clothing on, dear. Let's see what we can do about that."

"As you wish," he replied, pulling his sweater off in one fluid motion and tossing it on the floor. He made to undo the buttons of the shirt he had on underneath the sweater, but she placed her soft hands over his fingers and stopped him.

"No, allow me." She pushed gently on his shoulders until he backed up against the bed and sat, and she stepped between his knees and slowly undid each button, running her fingernails over the skin that each unbuttoning revealed as his head tilted back and he tried to control his breathing. He felt the surge of blood in his veins (and in other areas) and experienced a brief moment of panic at the thought of having to sit still for much longer.

"Heart condition, remember," he mumbled at one point.

"Mm-hm." She felt his pulse underneath her fingertips and paused there for a moment, assessing. "Well, I'm a nurse, in case you didn't know, and you feel more than fine to me," she purred.

"I do? Mm, that's good. Um, Els? Finish with the damned shirt already."

She laughed softly as she undid the last button and slid her fingers under the fabric, pushing it off of his body and tossing it somewhere near where the sweater had landed; as she did so, she moved her thigh forward, bumping into him and smiling as he let out a loud gasp.

"Oops," she said, her eyebrows high in her merriment.

"Two can play at that game," he growled, reaching out with his fingers – which, up to that point, had been gripping the edge of the mattress – to caress the backs of her thighs. He allowed his hands to wander up and cup her bottom, and he realized with a start that she had nothing on underneath the nightie. "Oh, you teasing little minx," he said, and she chuckled seductively.

"I didn't want to bend over to put them on," she murmured, placing her hands on his shoulders and bending her head to kiss his forehead. "Wanted to be sure I didn't harm myself in any way at all. I wanted to be sure I was in excellent shape for when you got home," she added. She trailed a fingertip down his jawline, only to have him turn his head quickly and capture it in one swift move. "You still have too much on," she reminded him, pushing her leg forward again and inhaling deeply as he groaned.

"Perhaps you should back up, then," he said, and she obeyed. He stood and removed his undershirt as she reached forward and grabbed him by the waistband of his pants. She pulled him closer (almost possessively, he thought with a surge of desire) and made swift work of the belt as well as the button and zipper of his jeans, which he dropped to the ground.

"My, my," Elsie murmured, reaching down and grasping him in her hands, sliding her palms over his hardness as his hands reached up and around her ribcage, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

"I need to lie down," he gasped, and she smiled.

"Yes," she said, "that is how this is going to have to work, after all."

He dropped his shorts and sat on the bed, scooting himself up toward the headboard where, he noticed with a laugh, she'd already piled the pillows.

"Prepared, aren't you?" he asked.

"Well," she said, gingerly kneeling on the mattress and reaching a hand out toward him, which he grasped to steady her as she maneuvered her body closer to his, "I didn't want to waste any time, really."

"I appreciate that," Charles said.

Elsie knelt beside him, her posture straight so as not to put any undue pressure on her lower back.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "I mean, are you sure this is alright?"

"I hope so," she said, interlacing their fingers and squeezing his hand. "I guess we'll find out. I think if we're careful – and slow – I'll be more than fine."

Charles took a deep breath, knowing it would be a monumental effort on his part to maintain the slow and careful bit. "I will try but, if it's too much, you have to promise you'll let me know."

She bit her lip and nodded.

"Can you take this off?" he asked, fingering the nightie.

"With your help, perhaps."

He laughed and sat forward, knowing full well that she didn't need his help to remove the item in question.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure." He reached to untie the second strap, and watched appreciatively as the silky fabric slid down to her knees.

"Elsie," he murmured, rubbing his hands up and down her sides before taking hold of the fabric and slowly lifting it up and off of her body.

She leaned forward and he cupped her face once again, tangling his fingers in her hair and picking up on the comforting scent of her shampoo. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply and, when he opened them again, she saw unshed tears.

"Oh, my love," she whispered, brushing away his tears with the backs of her fingers. "Don't."

"I'm sorry, it's just … I feel so blessed … to have you in my arms, to know that you're willing to spend your entire life with me." He leaned forward and kissed her softly, a gentle caress of his lips over hers. "And your eyes – my God, those eyes … so beautiful," he murmured.

She smiled. "Well, I am watching you," she said simply, tilting her head as she contemplated this amazing man before her. "And I don't think the day will ever come where I am not completely astonished by the look in your eyes when you see me. I feel as though the entire first half of my life was spent just waiting to be by your side. Now that I am, I don't ever want to be anywhere else." She pressed gently on his shoulders and he sat back against the pillows, reaching his hands out for hers once again.

"Go easy on me," she reminded him, and he nodded.

"I'll try."

She laid her hands on top of his, linking their fingers once again and using his strength to help support her weight. She slowly moved her legs so that she was straddling his lap and then she settled back for a moment. He adjusted his posture, sitting up to provide more support for her, not wanting her to have to bend forward more than she was comfortably able. She let go of his hands and her arms ended up around his shoulders, his hands at her waist, and her head fell backward as he gave into his desire, holding her steady as he placed hot kisses to her shoulders, neck, breasts … anywhere he could reach. The pressure of her fingernails on the back of his neck and shoulders spurred him on, and Elsie let herself get lost in the feeling of his mouth on her body.

"Charlie," she said eventually, bringing his gaze back to hers, noting that his eyes were almost black with desire.

It was all she needed to say; he leaned back a bit and supported her torso with his large hands as she raised herself up on her knees and then – very, very slowly – slid down over him and finally welcomed his body into her own once again. She cried out at the sensation, but the look on her face told him that her shout was one of joy and not pain.

"Wait," she murmured once he was completely inside of her. "I just … need a moment."

He nodded slowly in full understanding. It had been such a long time, this closeness something they had both been missing – craving – in equal measure. After a moment, she rolled her hips forward and lifted her body slightly before lowering it again; seconds later he picked up on the slow rhythm she was setting and matched it gently.

They didn't speak, but held one another's gaze, communicating all of their feelings wordlessly as they'd become so accustomed to doing. Elsie felt a flood of desire surge in her abdomen and her eyes widened minutely; he noticed and slipped a hand from her waist to the heat between them, using his thumb to guide her closer and closer to the edge. He felt her tighten around him and returned his hand to her back, supporting her as her body tensed and clenched.

"Ohh …" she moaned, and the sound of her voice was his own undoing …

"Are you alright?" he whispered moments later, her head resting against his, and she nodded … and laughed.

"You have no idea how alright I am."

"Um," he said, tilting her chin up to kiss her … a sweet kiss that quickly turned passionate as her tongue slid into his mouth before they broke apart again … "I think I do."

"Perhaps," she teased. "But honestly, I feel fine. Wonderful, in fact. Thank you for taking such good care of me," she added, bumping the tip of his nose with her own.

"I will 'take care of you' whenever and however you want, Ms. Hughes," he chuckled.

"I know you will," she said in all seriousness, and she swallowed a small lump that was forming in her throat. "And I'll do the same for you."

He saw something flicker in her eyes - a hint of a question, perhaps - but then it was gone. "We need to get some sleep, Elsie. We have a houseful coming over tomorrow, remember? Here, let me help you …"

He gently helped her up, sighing sadly at the feeling of being separated from her once again, and guided her until she could get off the bed and head into the bathroom. He was rolling something around in his mind, preoccupied, and couldn't seem to quell it as easily as he'd been doing up until tonight.

When Elsie returned, he got her settled into bed and took care of his own evening ablutions. He returned to the bed to find her propped up on his pillows, the sheets billowed around her waist.

"You've not put your nightgown back on," he said.

"An astute observation from the former attorney," she teased. "It's not a hint or anything, I just … I needed to just feel your skin against mine again."

He smiled as he climbed under the quilt. "Good," he said, drawing her close and giving her one more loving, sleepy kiss.

"Charles? Please tell me what's bothering you," she ventured. "I know something is eating away at your mind." She ran her hand up his arm and squeezed gently. "I rather expected you to already be asleep when I came out of the bathroom," she added with a tender smile. "The fact that you weren't tells me I'm right."

He sighed deeply and gazed off toward the window, noticing how dark the sky had gotten and how the moonlight was bouncing off of one of the blossoming trees. It was several minutes before he spoke, but she waited patiently, knowing there was something truly great troubling him if it was taking so much to draw it out. She knew he wasn't having second thoughts about the wedding – even if that had been a worry of hers before it most definitely wasn't now; the highly charged, emotional connection of their lovemaking had effectively rid her of that concern.

"I've something to ask you – tell you, I suppose – and I am afraid it will upset you," he whispered. "I don't think it's fair to keep it from you, but I don't think it's fair to tell you, either. And I don't know what to do with that."

Elsie snuggled in as closely as she could, given that she had to remain mostly on her back. Her head was resting against his shoulder as she reached her arm across his body and drew her leg over one of his. She stared resolutely at the ceiling, positive that she knew what was coming – she'd come to know him so very well, after all, and she'd seen this brewing for quite a while now. She'd first noticed it when he'd been banished from her room by Daisy, who'd been cuddling up with her shortly after the accident. She'd seen a brief flicker of it at the movies with Tommy, and again each time that Edith had visited, and - more recently - when Marigold was at the farm and the girls were doing their book reports at the kitchen counter, discussing how exciting it was going to be for Marigold to be a big sister.

"If it helps, I can make an educated guess," she suggested.

"You probably could guess, by now," he said, and she knew in that instant that she was right.

She took a deep breath and decided to dive right in.

"I don't know if it's possible, Charles," she said, her voice catching in her throat. "And, to be honest, I'm a little disappointed that you never told me you'd been thinking about it all this time."

He sighed softly and it occurred to her for the first time that perhaps his concern was that of not wanting a child together, as opposed to what she'd initially thought, which was that he did.

"Wait ... Charles? Is it something you wouldn't want?"

"Oh, Elsie," he whispered shakily. He shifted a bit, lying on his side so that he could see her more easily. He trailed his fingers through her hair as he spoke, looking directly into her eyes as he did. "I would welcome it so very, very much if it were to happen. But I wasn't sure if you would, if you'd want to take the chance again knowing that it could end in more heartbreak. And I've been so torn, because I don't ever want you to feel pressured about this; I didn't want to make you feel that, if it never came to be, you'd become somehow less in my eyes, because that would never, ever happen."

"I know," she said tearfully. "I know – I do. But there is a big part of me, very deep down, that does wish it would happen, and I'd be a liar if I said otherwise. I've not felt that in a very long time, and it took me a while to recognize it for what it was."

He looked at her curiously. "When did you begin thinking about it again?"

She looked guiltily at him. "Christmas," she whispered. "The day we decorated the trees and then ... um, when we were on the sofa?" she smirked.

"Really?"

"Well, it occurred to me we weren't exactly being careful, and you were having so much fun earlier that day regaling us with stories of Daisy and Santa and Christmas being for children. And you'd made the cookies, and you were just so … well, Christmassy. You were just the proudest Papa, and I felt this surge of 'Oh, I wish I could give him that again.' But we weren't anywhere near talk of marriage then, not really, and so it wasn't the time to bring it up. And then, as things went forward, I thought about it more and more. But then I had the fall …" Her voice trailed off, but he understood: there really had never been a good time to discuss it.

"So … We wait and see, then, yes?" he asked.

"I think so, yes. If it's what you want. It seems foolish to start taking precautions now," she said truthfully. "Only we have to try not to get out hopes up. The fact that it's not already happened speaks volumes."

He snuggled up against her body, pulling her more tightly in his arms and feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"It is what I want," he said. "And if it's not meant to happen, then so be it." He smiled roguishly at her. "But it could be an awful lot of fun if we tried to make it happen," he murmured, nuzzling her ear; she laughed loudly, the sound of it echoing in the quiet room.

"It could, indeed. Charles?"

"Mm-hm?"

"I'll be perfectly content with our little family of three, but I can't possibly put into words how happy I'd be if we had a child of our own, a little person that was part of both you and me."

He shifted a bit to look her deep in the eyes once more. "I know."

"Good. Time for some sleep, love," she whispered, kissing him one last time before he wrapped his arms around her again. He watched her as she closed her eyes, and then remembered something he'd wanted to ask.

"Elsie?" he whispered.

"Hm?" she replied sleepily.

"The nightie – Beryl?"

She huffed out a little laugh and placed a kiss to his arm.

"No – actually, it was Isobel. Her 'parting gift,' she called it."

"Remind me to thank her," he yawned.

Minutes later, ensconced in one another's arms, they drifted off to sleep.

I hope you guys aren't disappointed. :) A review would make my day!