A/N Thank you for all your kind reviews for the previous chapter! I'm very pleased that so many of you liked it, and I appreciate your reassurances that it was tasteful. Please keep reviewing. Here is the promised pillow talk.
Chapter 37
Elsie woke feeling something warm and heavy pressing on her bosom; it took her mind only a moment to apprehend that it was her husband's head. She smiled and cradled him more closely, stroking his hair and kissing the top of his head.
The sun had risen and now cast a soft light through the curtains. The oil lamps were still burning – unnecessarily – but Elsie was not inclined to move to put them out. The fire had died long ago, and the room was chilly, but the blanket and the warmth of Charles's body kept Elsie from feeling cold.
As Charles slept, she caressed his now stubbly cheek and recalled the events of the past two weeks: his attacks, the doctor's diagnosis and recommendations, her discovery of Charles's journal and the revelation that he loved her, their mutual declarations, and ultimately, their marriage and retirement together. During Elsie's years at Downton, she'd seen wars, illnesses, deaths, births, marriages, scandals, fortunes gained, and fortunes lost, but nothing could have prepared her for the whirlwind of the past fortnight. Fourteen days ago, she was a spinster-housekeeper with no real expectation that her station in life would ever change, and she had stoically resigned herself to that eventuality. But today, she was a retired, happily married woman with every joyful expectation that her new station in life would never change, and she cheerfully embraced that reality.
"Are you happy, love?" asked Charles seriously, without looking up at her. She'd thought he'd been asleep, so his voice surprised her.
"Positively euphoric," was her unqualified response. Elsie felt him smile at that. "And what about you?" she wanted to know. "Are you happy?"
Now he did lift his head to look at her intently. "I wouldn't have believed it possible for any man to be so happy." He pressed his lips to hers briefly but purposefully. "Wait right here," he instructed as he slid out of bed.
Charles winced when his feet hit the cold floor. Shivering, he found his pajamas and quickly pulled them on, not even bothering with his underthings. Elsie sat up and watched him as he turned down the wicks on the long-neglected lamps, relit the fire in the fireplace, and retrieved something from his valise in the corner of the room.
"There's something I'd like to give you," he announced, padding back to the bed. As he quickly slipped out of his pajamas and back under the covers, he handed her a familiar black volume.
"Your diary!" she gasped, fingering the cover.
"I'd like you to keep it for me," he told her. "You see, I've made another notation." He leaned over and opened the book to the page marked by the ribbon. "Go ahead. Read it," said Charles excitedly.
Elsie smiled, kissed him indulgently, and began to read the page he'd indicated.
Dearest Mrs Carson,
As I write this, on the eve of our wedding, you are not yet actually Mrs Carson, but by the time you read this, you shall be. The name suits you, I think, and I hope you agree. I certainly do enjoy the privilege of calling you Elsie, but I hope you won't mind if from time to time, I call you Mrs Carson instead. The thought of your bearing my name makes me prouder than I can say, and I might sometimes need to reassure myself that the most enchanting woman ever to walk this earth has, in fact, married this sorry, old fool.
When I began this register, nearly a decade ago, my purpose was to document everything I ached to tell you but could not. Now, even after having told you every secret in my heart and revealed to you the very essence of my soul, I find myself still unwilling to abandon this means of expression. It was the finding of this diary that first made you aware of my love for you, and for that reason, this volume is very precious to me. Had you not discovered it, I might never have gathered the courage to make known my affections.
Therefore, I intend to continue to record here, on occasion, my most private thoughts and feelings. I shall not fail to whisper to you those same intimacies when I hold you each night and to show my devotion in other ways, but I should like for you to have tangible proof of that devotion.
After we are settled in our cottage, I shall give you this book and request that you keep it for me. I mean to ask for it back now and again, when I feel I should like to write to you, for my written words are sometimes more eloquent than my spoken ones. Keep safe, then, this record of the contents of my heart as you safeguard my heart itself.
I shall end this entry in the same manner in which I began the very first one: by telling you simply -
I love you.
Ever yours,
Your loving Charles
Once again rendered speechless by his sweet words, Elsie could think to do only one thing. She set the journal down on the bedside table, turned back to Charles, and proceeded to show him her love by other means.
A/N And that's just about the end of it, friends. There will be a short epilogue to follow in a couple of days, and then that's it. In the meantime, I'm already working on my next story. I won't post anything until I get it well underway, but look for "Getting On" to debut sometime in the next few weeks.
Special thanks to Kissman, who suggested that Charles continue writing to Elsie. Her help with ideas on wrapping this up proved very useful. I had planned for Charles to give Elsie the journal, but I hadn't thought about additional entries. Kissman's idea was a nice touch, I think.
As a side note, you've seen how this story has evolved and how your recommendations have helped shape it and improve it. If you are in any doubt as to whether reviews matter, the course of this story should be proof enough that they do matter – a great deal!