AN/ Very light, possible trigger warning. If you are disturbed by repressed memories and if you think what happened between Edna and Tom was rape (as I do), this chapter might upset you.

Elsie's tears faded quickly to sniffles and angry huffs as she played the previous conversation over in her mind. They weren't even fighting about the same thing! She didn't want to fight about Alice, she was trying to be supportive on that front, but he could not accept that. She was livid that he still insisted on avoiding talking about Tamara even though he knew that's what she wanted to discuss.

Elsie grudgingly admitted that he was probably wise not to tell her the whole sordid tale when she'd first heard of Tamara before the wedding, but he'd had ample opportunity since. They were making plans to meet the damned woman in Milan, for crying out loud! Was he going to wait for it all to come out then? Elsie knew Charles often avoided conflict out of politeness, but she'd never thought him this big of a coward.

Over the next few hours, Elsie ran through a cycle of righteous anger, bitter disappointment and hope for reconciliation with her husband; How dare he! Was Charles even the man she thought he was? Would he finally trust her? Where is he?

As the day stretched on towards night, she became more concerned with his whereabouts and wellbeing. Yes, they were fighting, but she hadn't really meant for him to go away for so long. She felt a twinge of regret when she remembered how vehemently she'd told him to get out. Surely he wouldn't do anything stupid. Maybe he'd gone to Nate and Suzie's, but she was sure they'd have sent her word if he was with them. Maybe he'd gone back to work, but she didn't think he'd want to show up at the office in such a state. The sky was growing dark when she made the decision to go out in search of him.

She wrapped herself tightly in her coat and scarf and opened the door. It was shockingly cold and windy. How could it be windy so high up in their warehouse? Then she saw his hat. He'd obviously thrown it, for the always perfect bowl now sported a perfect dent. He wouldn't have gone out without his hat. The hat moved in the drafty air. She looked up and saw that the hatch to the roof was open.

She climbed the ladder to the roof and saw him sitting on a crate at the far end of the roof. Daft man! How long has he been up here? She wondered. Anger reawakened in her now that she knew he was safe.

"Have you been up here all this time? I was starting to worry." To her credit she did not sound as angry as she felt; she only sounded peeved.

"I took a walk, as you suggested, but I hadn't cooled down when I got back so I came up here." He gazed across the town with a sad and weary frown. "I like looking at the roof tops; it puts things in perspective."

"How's that?"

"All those roofs, chimneys, windows and streets; all those people. Every one has a story. Every one of them has their troubles and their triumphs that most of the world will never know of. Most of the world doesn't care."

Elsie wasn't sure she found that such a comforting thought, but then she remembered how she'd felt when she was waiting to know the status of the lump in her breast. It had made her feel better to remind herself that everyone must die. She supposed she understood what he meant.

"I care, Charles, and I want to know." Her voice was softer now, but still commanding.

"You really want to know everything?"

"You keep promising to tell me everything and you always hold something back."

"I don't want to disappoint you. Your regard means the world to me."

"This may come as a shock to you, Charles, but I don't think you're perfect. I never have. I didn't fall in love with a perfect butler; I fell in love with a wonderful human being who makes mistakes like everyone else." She pulled another crate up and sat beside him. "Just admit those mistakes so we can move past this."

His enormous sigh told her that he was ready to come clean. Though he'd made the decision to be open with her, his body contracted and drew his arms in tighter around himself as if to keep the last of his secrets safe. He looked small and vulnerable. He looked like he was in physical pain. Elsie's anger was quickly turning to pity.

"I'm sorry I brought up Joe. He is a good man who doesn't deserve to be compared to Tamara in any way. I guess I've always resented that he almost took you away from me; that he dared to court you openly when I was too much of a coward to even acknowledge to myself how I felt about you."

"I was never going anywhere with him."

Charles accepted this with a nod. "Please believe that I never meant to lie to you. Memory is a funny thing…I don't know how to explain it exactly…" Charles seemed to lose his train of thought. He shook his head and started over. "I'll assume Suzanne told you that Tamara tried seducing me."

"She said that Tamara climbed into your bed naked."

"Yes, that happened, but Suzanne didn't tell you…she couldn't have told you all of it because I never even told Nathan.

"I've always blamed Grigg and made excuses for Tamara, but I realize now that it was Tamara who made Grigg act the way he did. He was always a cad and a liar, but he got worse after meeting her.

"After they'd been together for a month or so, Tamara and Grigg would come back to our room most nights. Her place was available to them because Anton was still in Prague with a dying aunt or sister or something, but they preferred to come back and torture me. She called him 'Charles' when they were having sex." He saw that she didn't understand the significance of that. "She never called him 'Charles' any other time. Grigg was 'Charlie', I was 'Charles'. Grigg was the only one who ever called me 'Charlie' and no one ever called him 'Charles.'"

Elsie nodded, beginning to understand.

"They were not twenty feet away and they made no attempts to be quiet. She would whisper, scream, pant and call my name over and over again. When they were done, she would leave him sleeping and come out into the common area where I slept. She pretended to get a glass of water, but she was coming to tease me. Usually, she wore one of Charlie's shirts, but sometimes she wore only her knickers or sometimes nothing at all."

He twisted his hands together as they rested on his knees. His huddled posture made him look as though he were trying to protect himself from a fierce beating.

"I tried to ignore her, but she wouldn't be ignored. If I turned my back to the wall and feigned sleep, she would sit on my bed and pet my hair or try to climb under the covers with me. The only way to keep her from sneaking up on me was to watch her.

"I didn't want to watch her, but I had to. To keep her away, I had to watch her. I'd stare her in the eyes, proving that I wasn't interested in her body. Usually, I succeeded. When my eyes strayed, she would laugh and say such vulgar things. When I succeeded in ignoring her exhibitionism, sometimes she'd get angry and wake Charlie up and make him pleasure her again while she called him 'Charles'.

"I never desired her, Elsie; never in my heart." Charles was growing increasingly agitated and animated. "I knew she was a terrible person and I never wanted to be with her, but…They were so close and she was calling my name…"

His humiliating truth dawned on her. "You were…aroused?"

He nodded with his head low. "I couldn't think what might be wrong with me. How could I want to be with someone like her?" His voice was full of self-loathing and angry tears. "She knew exactly the effect she had on me. It became unbearable. Some nights I wouldn't even go home. I started looking for another room but I couldn't afford anything else.

"One night they'd run their scam on a particularly well-heeled gentleman and they'd celebrated with a good deal of Champagne. They'd been out late and I thought they'd gone to her place. Even so, I'd taken to putting cotton in my ears. I was sound asleep when they came home." His eyes stared over the town and into the past. "Apparently Grigg wasn't quite up to the challenge of pleasing her that night. She slipped into my bed…she took the cotton out of my ears and whispered to me, saying she knew how much I wanted her…she touched me and I responded to her touch."

His eyes were closed and his teeth gritted like a man in pain. "At first, I thought I was dreaming, but I woke up with her on top of me. She wasn't… that is, we hadn't…not yet…and I panicked. I threw her to the floor. She hit her head and hurt her arm."

So that was it. That was the source of his shame; he'd been aroused by Tamara's seduction and he'd physically hurt her when she'd gone too far. But it was more than that. No wonder Charles had reacted so vehemently to Elsie's accusation that he'd welcomed Tamara's advances. They weren't just advances. This incident had bordered on assault. Tamara had attempted to take him against his will. Maybe she was delusional enough to think he actually wanted her, but that was no excuse. She'd pushed him so far that he'd actually thrown her. When he'd told Nathan, it had been only a push, but the reality was much more violent.

"I slept at the theatre for the next few days. That was when Alice's brother-in-law approached me. I jumped at the chance to get out."

Now she knew everything. Charles sat in a huddled mess and waited for her to yell at him or tell him to leave again. Elsie remained silent, struggling to separate her anger at Tamara from her quarrel with Charles. He looked so vulnerable and lost, she found all of her anger with him was gone and she just wanted to protect him.

"And that's how you bring it back around to Alice?" Elsie said quietly. "I still don't see it, but you'll take your bit of the blame whether I concede it or not. If you have to feel some guilt in her death, I can't stop you, but please tell me you don't blame yourself for Tamara or Grigg's actions."

"No. Surprisingly, I don't."

"Well, that's a start," Elsie said gently. She wanted to forgive him, but she needed more. "What I'm still having trouble with, what I cannot understand is how you could still be in correspondence with this monster. You even said you felt sorry for her."

"And so I did."

"After all that?"

"After Anton's death, she wrote that she was sorry for not being a better wife to him. She said that I'd been a better friend to him than she had. Her letter was so sad, I thought maybe she actually loved him. I hoped she'd changed. Do you think someone acts the way she acts because they're happy?"

"No. They act that way because they are wicked," Elsie almost spat. "Knowing what she is, how could you agree for us to meet her in Milan in a few months?"

"I know it will be hard for you to understand. I hardly understand it, myself, but…I didn't remember all the details, the depth of her depravity, until a few days ago. I remembered that she and Grigg had a fling and that she was a terrible flirt, but that was all I remembered. All my anger was reserved for Grigg."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know. I suppose that I buried those memories as deep as I could. If you want to forget something badly enough, apparently, you can." Charles looked up at Elsie with pleading eyes. It was the truth and he needed her to believe him. "It wasn't that I wanted to deceive you. I couldn't tell you because I couldn't remember; I didn't want to remember."

Elsie did believe him. She felt a pang of guilt. If she'd just let Grigg rot away in the workhouse, maybe Charles wouldn't have had to relive this nightmare. More likely, it would have all come out in Italy.

"Who would believe a grown man could be…" he made a noncommittal gesture, unsure of what to call Tamara's assault on him. "…by such a tiny woman?"

His relief in returning to service made even more sense now. In service, there was no expectation of physical relationships. In fact, he was insulated from the very notion by his status in the household. Though there had been moments of sparks between Charles and Elsie throughout the years, they'd both always conquered their desires. Elsie had relied on her religion and sense of duty to strengthen her resolve. She had assumed that Charles did the same, but now, she suspected otherwise. Had he always had a repressed sense of shame about sex because his body had betrayed him by desiring Tamara? He certainly wasn't repressed with Elsie now, but it had taken years to build the trust between them.

"What are we going to do?" Elsie asked. It was a rhetorical question, so she was astonished when Charles answered it immediately.

"We won't see her," Charles declared.

"How will we manage that?" Elsie wanted to know. "We've already told her when we are going to be in Milan. She knows where we're staying."

"We'll change our plans. We won't go to Milan at all, if that's what it takes."

"But you wanted to see La Scala," Elsie reminded him, though she could hardly say why she was playing devil's advocate. Perhaps she was testing his resolve.

"We can go next year...or never. It doesn't matter. Do you think touring an opera house takes precedence over our marriage?"

"I should hope not," she smirked.

Her teasing answer gave him hope. Charles grabbed her warm hands in his cold ones. "Nothing is more important to me than you, Elsie. I may do a poor job of showing it, but…"

"You do just fine," Elsie interrupted him. She kissed his lips lightly and was astonished at how cold they felt. She remembered that he'd been sitting up here in the wind and the cold for hours. "Goodness, Charles, you're freezing. Come downstairs and we'll warm you up."

His heart leapt with joy when he saw that he was forgiven. He waggled his eyebrows at her playfully. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Of course it does; it means a nice, hot cup of tea." She winked as she disappeared into the hatch.

Charles shook his head and chuckled as he heard her sparkling laughter from below. It was amazing how quickly the ghosts of the past dissipated in the shining light of her smile.

"On a nice, warm couch!" She shouted up at him. Needing no other incentive, Charles scrambled down the ladder.

She was already in the kitchen about to fill the kettle by the time he'd hung up his coat and dented hat. He moved swiftly and silently to stand behind her.

"Sod the tea," he whispered huskily into her ear. "You're hot enough to warm me up."

She giggled and turned in his arms, leaving the empty kettle in the sink.

"Oh, Elsie, how I've missed you." He covered her face and neck with adoration.

"I was always right here," she said softly. "Just trust me and I'll always be here."

"Mmhmm. Always." He nodded as he nuzzled her neck. He tugged her hips away from the sink and towards the sitting room; towards the nice, warm couch.

TBC…

AN/ I've known enough people with repressed memories (especially around sexual encounters) to think this is plausible. Charles is an old-fashioned gentleman. I think he would find it very hard to believe a woman capable of such predatory acts. The fact that he was aroused by her attentions would have confused him even more. I think he would have to alter his memories to resolve this incongruity.

We'll be entering a nice period of fluff where Chelsie is concerned. Enjoy.