Mr. and Mrs. Carson returned to a lovely welcome home party in the servant's hall.
Elsie felt a bit timid, unable to keep the embarrassment from pinkening her cheeks at times. Questions about the honeymoon came from all directions, and she wasn't at all prepared.
How on earth were she and Charles standing here, chatting and drinking punch, when she had spent the past five nights sheltering him between her thighs?
Oblivious to her discomfort, Charles was uncharacteristically at ease, smiling and laughing, not leaving her side until it was nearly time to go. He went to double check his old room, coming back shortly to gather her and squire her to their new cottage.
Their evening consisted of lounging on the sofa in front of the fire, munching on the basket of food that Mrs. Patmore had so kindly prepared for them. Popping the cork on a gifted bottle of wine, Charles poured them both generous glasses to celebrate the first night in their new home.
"Did you and Thomas have a good conversation?" Elsie asked, remembering the pleasant words shared between the two men during the party.
Charles harrumphed, making Elsie smile into her wine. He wouldn't acknowledge having any fondness for the young man whatsoever, and Elsie decided not to push.
"Anna looked well," Charles said, wanting to distract Elsie from any further discussion of Thomas Barrow.
"Oh, I was going to say. It's not for everyone to know yet, but she is expecting again, and the doctor believes this one will be fine."
Elsie herself had commented on Anna's healthy appearance at the party this afternoon, then the two shared a quiet moment after Charles had gone up to check his room. It was wonderful to see the young maid hopeful and happy again.
"That's wonderful, they deserve every bit of it."
Charles paused a moment, a funny look in his eye. Opening his mouth, he started to speak, then seemed to think better of it and take another drink of wine. Noticing his hesitance, Elsie was immediately intrigued.
"You might as well tell me whatever it is, Charles Carson. I can see you want to."
Setting his glass down and facing her, Elsie was delighted to see a blush on his cheeks.
"Good heavens, Charlie, you better tell me quick. This must be good."
Chuckling at her excitement, Charles took a deep breath as if to steady himself.
"I…this is quite embarrassing, and if you ever tell Anna I told you, I'll deny it to my last breath."
Elsie's eyebrows raised in wonder as she waited for Charles to continue.
"After Mr. Bates had been released from prison but before they moved into the cottage, I went up to the attic to check on a piece of art her ladyship had inquired about."
He stumbled, struggling to get the words out. Elsie gasped, the look on Charles's face telling her exactly where this was going.
"Mr. Carson!" she gasped, feeling a blush coming to her own cheeks. "They weren't!"
Nodding his head briefly and looking to the ceiling as if to appeal for strength, Charles reluctantly continued.
"They most definitely were."
Elsie laughed until her sides hurt, and then wiped the tears from her eyes before she could speak. "Oh, oh my, Mr. Carson. I am so sorry that you had to see that, of all the things. But I'm glad you weren't so offended either of them lost their position."
Charles shook his head, then began solemnly. "No, I'm not so heartless as all that. They had been through so much, and after a year and a half apart it's understandable to have a momentary…lapse."
Elsie's giggles took off again at his wording, and she had to stifle herself.
"Mr. Bates came to my pantry shortly after, and I assured him that as long as it didn't happen again, I was happy to consider the whole thing forgotten."
Unable to resist, Elsie stood up and came to him, placing herself in his lap. He seemed surprised for a moment, then relaxed, letting her settle comfortably before wrapping his great arms around Elsie and pulling her against his chest.
Charles hummed, which Elsie had learned was a sign of his contentment.
"You're naught but a great teddy bear, aren't you Charlie Carson?"
He chuckled, dropping a kiss into her hair before taking another drink of wine.
"I did speak to Anna, a few days before the wedding. Or rather, she spoke to me." Elsie said, the alcohol loosening her tongue. "About the honeymoon."
As soon as the words tumbled out, Elsie wished she could put them back. Damn the wine, anyway.
Watching him carefully, Elsie searched for any hint of anger or irritation, knowing that Charles was as private as he was dignified. She worried he would see the conversation with Anna about things that would occur between them in the marriage bed as an invasion of his privacy.
Taking another drink, Charles appeared thoughtful, and Elsie's fears of him being offended were extinguished.
"I'm glad Anna eased your mind, but you could have spoken with me if you were worried, Elsie."
She pulled back, raising an eyebrow at him in disbelief.
"Mr. Carson, I do appreciate that, but I very much doubt you could say 'breast' or 'sex' without dying of apoplexy."
To Charles's credit, he managed a good three or four seconds of eye contact before the furious blush on his face forced him to look away from her with a 'harrumph.'
Chuckling, knowing she had proven her point, Elsie relaxed back into his arms and took another drink of the delicious wine. Elsie loved it here, nestled in the warmth and safety of Charles's arms.
Emboldened by the wine and the easiness between them, Elsie decided to ask a question that had been rattling around in her mind.
"What about you, Charlie? Who was your first, who taught you how to…do all that?"
Charles tensed, and Elsie was afraid she had overstepped the boundaries, yet again.
Hurriedly she added, "You don't have to tell me, of course, I didn't mean to pry."
Clearing his throat again, Charles fought the urge to jump up and move away, that damning habit of putting space between himself and others something he had yet learned to control.
Realistically, he should have known they would eventually have this conversation. As much love as they shared, it was a natural progression into learning the ancient histories of each other, no matter how sordid and tawdry it happened to be.
He sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable and bracing for the shame.
"You are not prying, Elsie. You are my wife, and you have every right to ask these things, and any other questions you have of me. Only I worry, that is, about you possibly thinking less of me."
Elsie's brow furrowed as she tried to understand his hesitance.
"I could never think less of you, Charles. You're a man who has lived a man's life. I never expected you to be pure as the driven snow."
Taking another drink of wine to fortify himself, Charles began.
"The first time was a housemaid."
Unable to stop herself, Elsie giggled, clapping her hand over her mouth. Charles relaxed and felt a smile playing upon his own mouth.
"Yes, I know. I was fifteen and had just been promoted to junior footman. She wanted to…ah, congratulate me, she said. It was horrible and awkward and absolutely wonderful. Shortly after I left for London."
Jumping in helpfully, Elsie added, "To work on the stage?"
"Yes, thank you, when I worked on the stage, I became, ah, acquainted with a widow who worked at the theater. One of the seamstresses who made the costumes, in fact."
"She was maybe twenty years older, and very kind. We spent many mornings together and she taught me the correct way of how to go about certain things. I met Alice maybe a month later, and the rest you know."
Love tugged at Elsie's heart as she placed her hands upon the large ones clasped in Charlie's lap. She knew how much it cost her husband to reveal things about himself, especially things he considered undignified, Elsie did truly appreciate the gift of trust he had given her.
"Let's go, Charlie." Standing up, Elsie sat her glass down before grasping his hand, pulling him up.
Surprised, he also sat his glass down before allowing her to lead him.
"Where are we going, love?"
"To the bedroom, of course." Elsie said, grinning mischievously over her shoulder at a confused Charles.
"Tutelage as fine as all that is a gift, Mr. Carson. We can't let it go to waste."