Author's Note: For Miss Maid ❤︎

No prior knowledge is required. Takes place during the fair of Series 1, Episode 4. Two things have changed: Chelsie is married from the start of the show and Charles made it to the fair this time around.

Fans of Another Time, Another Place, parts of this chapter will look familiar. After that, we wade into different territory.


Tonight was proving to be something else entirely for Elsie Carson, née Hughes. From aimlessly wandering about the fair to realising Joe Burns was unlikely to show, the woman found her patience growing thin. The farmer had insisted on meeting here tonight, why wasn't he showing up after all those letters?

She'd given him a bit more time to reveal himself, to step through with an excuse about the train or some silly nonsense. By this point, her original irritation had faded into bemusement. Did something serious happen? Was everything all right?

Time and time again, the woman found her gaze drifting in the direction of her husband. She was becoming drawn to wondering about it all. Worry remained for Joe, but there was a baffling melancholy that trailed after her the longer she consider the situation.

Joe had written to her about second chances, oblivious to her marriage. It made her wonder what a life without that marriage would've been like. What if they'd gone all this time working together as colleagues, nothing more? How different would their lives be?

Laughter distracted her, the woman turning her attention toward a couple strolling through the fair. She didn't know them but she could see at once they were married. Married and happy to show it, rings glinting in the light as arms fondly linked. The wife was even leaning into her husband, smiling up at him as though they were newly-weds.

What would that be like? To walk arm-in-arm with Charlie without a care in the world? Not needing to invent an excuse to see him, not having to always watch their surroundings, not hiding it all away.

To think on that hurt more than anything tonight.

But there was no point in dwelling in it. They'd agreed thirteen years ago it had to be a secret, that couldn't change anytime soon. Not if they wanted to keep their positions, not if she wanted to continue to support Becky.

"Excuse me,"

Elsie blinked back into reality, nearly stumbling as she dodged some stranger's path. Belatedly, she thought herself grateful she'd almost crashed into someone. It'd shaken her out of those silly questions.

Turning back to the fair, she forced reality to take away these late night musings far away. She had given Joe more than enough time to show. If he wasn't going to, the least she could do was enjoy herself.

"I don't suppose you've the time?" Watching Charles unexpectedly turn around, catching a glimpse of that smile he was most certainly holding back, Elsie took some pleasure in being able to surprise him after all this time.

But a familiar pocket-watch came into sight and soon it was her turn for a surprise: "I'm afraid it's later than I thought."

Oh. Of course. How stupid of her to assume the world would slow down for them.

Glancing in the direction of the others, well aware that letting Thomas lead that group would only end in disaster, "I suppose we ought to start heading back."

Elsie looked back at the butler, watching him observe the crowd. He had eyes of his own. He could make the same conclusion. Why then did he look so hesitant to agree?

"Perhaps," She knew that tone. That was the voice that had coaxed her into many delightful moments over the last decade. She didn't dare allow herself a smile, wanting to hear that tone finish its thought. But she couldn't deny her curiosity. "We can allow them a few more minutes? They don't normally get a night off."

Was she imitating a codfish? Perhaps.

Did that stop her from carrying on? Not in the least.

"Who are you and what have you done with Mr. Carson?"

The woman got an unimpressed look for such a question, the twinkle in her eye only brightening. Without another word, he took off in the direction of the others, intent on informing the group of their decision.

And when that was all settled, "I don't suppose I could try to win you a prize?"

Her snort was slight, her thoughts going back to those ridiculous musings from before. Thoroughly uninterested in humouring that part of her, "It's probably for the best you don't. Wouldn't want them to suspect anything."

Elsie didn't realise she'd been staring at the floor. It would take her catching the sound of Charles walking away to recognise that little detail.

"Mr. Carson?" Why did he feel he had to walk away? Was this his way of quietly agreeing with her? He knew better than to do that. Or, was it–– was he really––

Oh, no, you don't!

"Mr. Carson," Her silly man had taken it upon himself to play one of the fair's games, the wooden rings in his hands. It seemed he was determined to win her a prize, after all "I can assure you, there's no need for this."

"You're right." The housekeeper came to an awkward stop at those words, confused. "There is no need, Mrs. Hughes."

She straightened up with a practiced air, snatching back some semblance of a smile. Well, at least he recognised there was no need. Could the man now be so kind as to put those rings down and leave it well alone?

"I would still like to."

Elsie couldn't speak. She couldn't offer up a quip, couldn't arch an eyebrow, couldn't even murmur a my, my. All she could do was stare. There might have been a tidal wave crashing round the town, there could have been a plague spreading through the country, there might have even been a war in the background and all she could was stare.

That is, until she remembered her place.

"Well then," But Elsie refused to take on the role of housekeeper just yet. For one brief moment, she would allow herself the chance to be inches away from him, closer than a colleague ought to. Then and only then would she go back to maintaining the distance their life required.

Let it be known that, whatever the distance between them, she wouldn't keep mischievous cheek from sneaking into her tone, "Who am I to stop you?"

Charles gave her another knowing look, fully aware she could do exactly that if she so wished. But she wanted anything but that, and he was right there with her.

Elsie watched him close his eyes a moment at her permission, reveling in the sight. He looked to be taking in the prizes like they were ledgers to be sorted, business requiring the utmost attention. That he was giving such consideration, all for a simple trinket at the fair–– it felt as though he had no qualms about showing his love for her. As though he were happy to make it clear that they were more than colleagues.

Heavens, the woman cleared her throat and looked away, wondering where such sentimental nonsense came from. Why would Charles want to reveal their marriage after all these years? They'd decided almost from the very beginning that keeping it a secret was for the best.

There was a blur of movement nearby, pulling her gaze back to the prizes. What, was he trying to test his aim with that first ring? Show that he was capable of winning her something grand? He didn't need to! There were perfectly acceptable prizes within reach, tokens she would greatly appreciate.

"Why not aim for one of those dolls?" For example, those straw dolls were much closer. And this way, he won't have wasted his money on her for something unattainable. "They seem nice enough."

Reproachful was a quaint term for this particular look of his, the unspoken message loud and clear. She looked upward for only a second, wondering what she did to deserve such dedication. Even the cans in the front row would've sufficed, there was no need to aim for anything else.

"My, my," Elsie couldn't quite keep the smile off her face as her gaze returned to him, trying not to stare at her the butler in amazement. This was only a knickknack, not one of his Lordship's snuff boxes. There was no need for pomp and circumstance. Granted, if she had to guess why he was so drawn to winning this prize, "I don't suppose it's a matter of pride now?"

The housekeeper's laugh was low, the woman uninterested in distracting him now. Charlie's pride certainly could be something else. If she got in the way of it, it was liable to take quite the hit.

Like she needed much reminding about that of all things. Even when he wasn't in what she fondly referred to butler mode, his pride was ever-present. Which reminder her: years ago, when she'd found out about his life on the stage, there had been a matter with juggli––

"We have a winner!" Elsie gaped, snatched away from her thoughts. He'd actually bested the fair's system and had gone so far as to win her that stunning prize.

The woman watched in incredulity as her husband took hold of a beautiful white tea cup and saucer. Charles was bestowing her with it as though it were the grandest thing he'd ever seen. The worst part –– the best part, her traitorous mind would belatedly whisper, when she was seconds from sleep –– was that she had the silliest urge to kiss him for it.

Well, he was her husband! She could only suppose it made sense to want to kiss the man. But they did have to maintain their positions at the house, for Becky's sake if nothing else. And, so, to do anything of the sort was only to ruin their lives.

Yes. She didn't like it any more than he did, but it was true.

"Mr. Carson," Really, the butler ought to know better than to show such affection in front of their subordinates. If someone was watching them, Thomas, for instance, they would have a hard time explaining themselves. Besides, "There's really no need!"

But Charles was proving how little that mattered to him, "I insist."

Elsie's eyebrow arched before she could think otherwise, wondering why he had to insist on such a thing. The only times they'd spent at a fair were under the guise of housekeeper and butler, not a married couple. Why change that and risk everything after all this time?

Except, he wasn't changing a thing. Underneath that supposed insistence was a question. If she had to guess, her husband was simply asking her to consider change.

It was entirely up to her where they went from here.

Grasping the delicate prize with care, the woman sent him a knowing look. She took in a great sense of delight in watching his face light up. Really, this whole gesture meant more than she could say. Refusing to win her anything he deemed unworthy, going so far as to offer this little chance to enjoy themselves after an unending night –– she might very well kiss him, after all.

As it happened, she saved that kiss for a far more opportune moment.

"If I'd known you were that hungry," Charles slowly began after they'd parted for air, his eyes widened in awe. They were finally ensconced in her room, the rest of the staff having retired for the night. "I would have had asked Mrs. Patmore to pack something for the fair."

Clearly her man thought the cook's sandwiches –– a delicacy that had been prepared specially for their late night excursion, one that they'd just sampled –– were the cause of such affection. Although it was true she'd been more famished than anticipated, this display of affection was all thanks to him.

Elsie chuckled at his reasoning, "It wasn't the sandwiches."

"No?" He huffed out some sort of chuckle, "Are you sure?"

"It was you." She plainly informed him, tickled to see him gape for once. Truly, Charlie was practically begging for another kiss when he looked that agog. "Mind, the sandwiches helped."

"I'm sure they did." He playfully growled, beaming as he took her into his lap, "And does this help?"

"Well, it's much more than a nightcap," She cheekily responded, eyes glowing with mirth. Their thirteenth anniversary had been a quiet affair thanks to an unexpected dinner party, ending in a weary drink.

But that was enough of that attitude –– they'd more than made up for their official anniversary with tonight.

Although, the woman couldn't help but recall that couple from before, the married one at the fair. Those two didn't need to wait for others to retire in order to enjoy themselves. They could relish in being married whenever they wanted. They probably even spent their anniversary in public, going wherever they pleased.

A public anniversary. What a funny thought.

"Elsie?" But why think on that now? This was a special night, one she intended to enjoy for as long as she could.

"It's nothing." The woman insisted, refusing to bite her lip and give anything else away. There was no reason to fixate on such things, not when she was happy with what was. She had Charles, she had her position, and she even had the chance to support Becky –– all was well in her world.

Or so she tried to tell herself.


Author's Note: So, this might have turned into a small three-chapter fic. Nevertheless, Miss Maid, I promise you: I'm definitely keeping in mind what you requested and I hope you enjoy what's to come!

In any case, I hope you enjoyed this and that you have a lovely day! 'Till next time.