A/N: This chapter took quite a long time to be published and I think it might be helpful if you could go through the previous chapter before reading this one. Thank you so much for bearing up with me and so sorry for taking more time than usual to publish this update.

Chapter 7

"Here we are," Elsie sighed and smiled weakly as they stood at the beginning of the lane that led to her flat. The straight road was illuminated by a long line of street lamps. The lane was considerably quiet, the night had already settled in upon most houses. Lights shone in windows and occasionally shadows of people upon the curtains.

"This is your lane?" Charles asked, eyeing the dark lane lit by streetlamps and the houses that were lined up along it. Most of the houses at the beginning of the lane were Edwardian Era cottages with few modifications on the outside. Their ivy covered stone walls were hauntingly beautiful as they disappeared at the bend in the lane. Closer to the far end of the bend the silhouettes of a few modern looking flats were visible. Their clean, modern, straight lines a stark contrast to the homely cottages with their age old, imperfect stone lines.

"Yes, this is it. I suppose I must release you now," Elsie looked up at him and smiled, as she wrung her hands. They had walked part of the way in companiable silence and part of the way engaged in amiable chatter. Each as lovely as the other. A feeling Elsie failed to discuss, a nice one nonetheless. It was a novel experience and Elsie found it hard to believe that their little adventure was about to end and strangely… she was beginning to miss him already, even before he's left.

"Which one is your flat?" Charles asked, trying to make a guess, squinting his eyes in the semi darkness.

"Oh you can't see it from here. It's closer to the end of the lane."

"Then come along," Charles gestured towards the lane with his head but when Elsie didn't follow or make any move to, he looked at her rather confused, a questioning look upon his face.

"Charles… I… uh," Elsie stuttered, unable to form a proper sentence to make him understand. Taking a deep breath she began again, "I have imposed on you so much already Charles, and I really don't want to trouble you anymore. You are late enough as it is, " she looked at him beneath her lashes, a pleading look in her eyes and a shy smile on her lips, and Charles' heart melted at how sweet and lovely she looked in that moment. Her bottom lip making its way beneath her teeth out of habit.

"You think I'm going to let you go alone in the dark? At this time of the night? No way!" Charles implored and looked at her deeply, his eyes holding a very serious look about them.

"But Charles—," Elsie's protest was cut short when Charles shook his head in disagreement.

"There is no argument here. I can't very well let you walk alone through that?" he threw his free hand the direction of the lane, his look one of determination.

"You think I'm incapable—" Elsie countered suddenly feeling incredibly annoyed with him.

"I do not doubt your capability—"

"Then what?" Elsie glared at Charles.

"Elsie, I'd like to see you home. Make sure you get home safely," Charles pleaded.

"Honestly Charles, I can go the rest of the way. I've taken this path over hundreds of times in my life," Elsie argued and reached for her paper bag in Charles' hand. He quickly moved it to his other hand and when Elsie reached again, he moved his hands behind his back.

Elsie stood with her hands on her hips, her head tilted to a slight angle, an eyebrow raised at him. He defiantly kept on holding the paper bag out of her reach.

"Charles," she said in a low voice, a warning tone woven into it.

"Elsie please, it isn't right!"

His insistence got on Elsie's nerves and she said much sharply than she had intended to, "What isn't? Charles I'm not some frail, young thing, I told you before. I can look after myself."

She regretted her tone the moment Charles' expression stiffened and he stood with his back and shoulders straight. Elsie glanced away for a moment unable to hold his stern and steely gaze but then turned to look back at him. A feeling of guilt tugged at her heart, she understood she wasn't imposing on him but that he was offering because he was well and truly a gentleman, and that he definitely isn't one of the "following types" – a lunatic, a stalker or a serial killer. Being a good judge of character was a quality and an ability was something Elsie was always proud of herself for. Perhaps he still lived in a world where chivalrous men carried heavy loads and walked women to their doors. Opening doors for women, insisted on walking on the side of the pavement which was exposed to the traffic. All those tiny things slowly disappearing from the world, becoming unnoticeable and insignificant before eventually disappearing altogether.

But that tiny niggling voice at the back of her head, that had dealt with life all by herself for so long was protesting. She was certain he wouldn't make any unwelcome advances, she could clearly see it wasn't 'his style', that wasn't the man that Charles Carson was – but, well, not that advances by him towards her would be all that unwelcome for these past hours had made her rather interested, if not 'very' fond, of him. But it was her habit of not wanting to rely on someone else, not wanting to depend on someone else was what she was most in conflict with in that moment. She had fended for herself for too long that it had become part of her. It was an essential part of who Elsie Hughes was.

Still, she felt she shouldn't bother him after all what she had relied on him for in the past few hours, she felt she couldn't trespass on his generosity for any longer. What if he didn't even like what he was offering but still doing so because he felt it was what a gentleman ought to do, what he as a young man was taught to do? And Elsie herself was most definitely strong enough a woman to brave the world alone, just as she had done for so many years than she cared to remember.

A terribly awkward moment passed between them. Elsie shifting from one foot to another with fidgeting fingers which she controlled by tucking them in her pockets (but still found herself fiddling with the lining of the pockets and playing with the thread that had come loose) and Charles standing tall with his brows knitted and a look of hurt somewhere between the lines of his impassive expression (holding on so tightly to the handle of the paper bag that he was sure his knuckles must be terribly pale).

Elsie realised how her words must have been heard. Combined with her snappish tone, the sharpness they created, she felt, was not what Charles deserved.

"Look, I'm sorry Cha –"

"Elsie it's that I –"

Elsie laughed nervously at how they both spoke out at the same time but his expression was solid and unchanged.

"You go ahead," Charles offered. His expression relaxing very slightly. A shift that Elsie failed to notice as she tried to get a better hold of her thoughts.

She took a deep breath and began, "I'm sorry Charles. I… uh… I didn't intend to sound mean. I just…" She looked up at the sky and grunted in annoyance at how her words failed her. It infuriated how words eluded her when she needed them so desperately, as was in this moment. Charles stood silent and still, giving her the time and space to express herself. "Oh God how am I going to put this right." She looked back at him beneath her lashes, suddenly feeling very small next to his large frame. "I feel like I'm constantly imposing on you. I don't like people to feel that about me—."

"Elsie I offered and you are certainly not impo—."

"Please," Elsie urged him to let her continue. "You see, I've always managed by my own for how long I can't remember – so many years and it just feels… rather odd."

"I could say the same. I mean the managing alone part. But… well," he laughed lightly unsure of how to phrase the next words that he wanted to say and in a feeble attempt to lighten the thick 'atmosphere' around them. "I don't doubt your ability or your independence. Not in slightest. I'd just like to walk you all the way home. Make sure you get there safely."

Elsie bit her lip and eyed his sincere expression and it certainly didn't bear any trace that he would give in, "You are sure I'm not in your way?"

"Absolutely sure," he nodded. He noted how her brow furrowed lightly as she thought and the crinkles it formed at the corners of her eyes, despite the dim light that surrounded them.

She looked up at him and smiled shyly as she felt touched by his noble motive and his kindness, "Alright."

"Good," he smiled back at her, with both a gentleness that shone from deep within his brown eyes and satisfaction that his point was made and that he had got his way. "So shall we?"

"Oh sure," Elsie started walking and he followed by her side, observing the neighbourhood.

And though Charles would never say it out loud, he was glad she allowed him to escort her home. And he tried his best to commit every detail to memory, to bury it in his mind where memories of her would reside.

"So this is it," she said, turning to face him as she stood at the bottom of the stairs that led up to her flat.

"See? That didn't hurt much did it?" he joked and she laughed heartily.

She regained her breath and thanked him, "Thank you Mr Carson."

"It was my pleasure," he replied bowing a little, earning a giggle from her in return.

"Reminds me of those black and white films from the 1920s," she laughed lightly, her eyes glistening, and he shook his head, clearly amused by her.

"Now that you are home safely," he emphasized with a twinkle in his eye, a smirk that he didn't try to hide, which caused Elsie to giggle again. "I suppose it's time for me to head back to the Abbey." He handed her the paper bag that Beryl had packed for her.

She accepted it back with a smile that faded when his fingertips brushed against hers. A sudden of sense of nostalgia for the moments they had shared together washed over her when realisation struck that this really was good bye. She was missing him even before he was really gone. A feeling that she was not very familiar with. She shook herself out of her thoughts and spoke, "I can try to find you a cab. At least I hope very much that I would be able to."

"At this time of the night," he scoffed good-naturedly. "I highly doubt it but thank you. I don't mind walking to the Abbey. It's not that far."

"No please let me check, it wouldn't hurt," she placed the bag on the floor and rummaged in her coat pocket for her phone. "I'd be glad to make sure you got home safely too," she smirked and he shook his head at the mischievously determined note in her voice, with a smile on his lips.

"Oh here it's working now," she hissed and scowled at her smartphone, and proceeded to tap on it, her fingers moving over the screen so swiftly. Her bottom lip tucked beneath her teeth. Her look of utter concentration, he found to be amusing.

"Oh thank goodness it's working. I booked an Uber for you. It's supposed to be here soon," she looked at him triumphantly, her eyes glowing.

"A what?" he exclaimed without thinking.

"You do realise this is the 21st century, don't you?" Elsie raised an eyebrow at him, smirking mischievously. She was highly amused by how many things technological baffled him. In the short space of time which she got to know her, it was one of first and astonishing facts she had got to know him.

He gave her mock stern glare, "I get about Miss Hughes. I get about."

"Baffling," she replied nonchalantly.

"Oh really?" he asked sarcastically.

"Absolutely. And intriguing," she laughed.

"Why don't I find that reassuring?" he laughed and she joined in.

When the laughter subsided, the awkward silence began to creep in slowly forming a separating veil. Elsie played with her fingers and Charles stared at his feet with his hands in his pockets.

He cleared his throat and her eyes shot up to meet his. "I wondered… um," he paused looking into her eyes deeply. He was nervous, yes, nervous of the question he about to ask, nervous of what her answer would be and nervous of the consequences. A thousand thoughts were racing through his mind, faster than he could hold on to them to process them rationally.

"Yes?" she urged sensing his hesitation to bring his thoughts into words.

"I wondered if you'd be free tomorrow. Evening perhaps?" he asked letting go of his breath along with his words. His pulse racing as anticipation for her answer ran through his veins like lightening but he felt an odd sense of relief that he somehow managed to say what he wanted to. That was quite uncharacteristic for Charles, for it was normal for him to incessantly weigh the pros and cons in mind, debate the possibilities and come to a very rational decision. Charles Carson was never known to do something impulsively, at least not nowadays, not for a very long time. No, everything that he did was well planned ahead of time and executed with the utmost precision.

But something about Elsie Hughes, something about this beautiful, enigmatic woman who stood in front of him, something about what she made him feel, what her lilting voice paired with her deep blue eyes and entrancing smile, what her mere presence did to him was something he was not in the least prepared for. Something he most certainly had not planned.

"Oh," she exclaimed suddenly as his question hit her with an unexpected force. That was not something she had expected to come out of him. This man before her, so calm and collected, so proper and traditional, this certainly was not something she had not expected from him. But it thrilled her nonetheless for with every word of his, woven into eloquent sentences and spoken with his enchanting baritone timbre drew her to him. His gentle and caring personality despite his intimidating physique was intriguing, she would even dare to say quite "endearing."

"Well?" he inquired, suddenly feeling anxious over her surprise at his offer. He was growing impatient with every second, with every passing heartbeat.

Elsie's eyes drifted away from his, still wide with surprise. Slowly, very slowly, clarity returned to her mind. She had indeed enjoyed the time she had spent with Charles so far. And she couldn't deny, he was unlike most men she had met before and she certainly felt drawn to him, more so as the night grew old around them. Of course she would like to spend more time with him. She would be lying to herself if she pretended that she was not curious about Charles Carson and that she didn't feel any attraction towards this tall, broad shouldered, deep voiced man who was every bit a gentleman, at times even painfully so. She would gladly accept his offer.

But then… there was Joe. Joe Burns. And his letter followed by the clumsily typed email requesting to see her. And the rather reluctant reply she wrote back agreeing to see him. Tomorrow. Tomorrow… of all days, the very same day that Charles had asked her if she was free.

She couldn't compare Charles to Joe. Never. They were men of different worlds. But when Elsie typed that reply one afternoon, a week and a half before (after several days of thinking and a wine glass and a half later to give her courage to not back away and shut her computer and forget that she ever got that email from a man she once turned down) she didn't know of Charles' existence. She could never had guessed that her life would take such an interesting turn just over one week later. At that time, when Elsie sat at her kitchen table with piles of documents and files from work surrounding her, half a dozen text messages from Anna's work mobile unread on her phone, the clock in her living room echoing as it ticked, Elsie felt an overwhelming emptiness in her life that prompted her to agree to meet Joe. A man from a life she left behind. An urge to perhaps fill her life with something.

But then Charles almost collided with her tray of drinks… and fell into her life. And with him came a flicker of something beyond Joe, perhaps beyond even everything that she left behind among the mountains and vast fields of Scotland including Joe Burns, the shadows of which Joe seemed to represent.

"Elsie?" Charles inquired gently as he watched thoughts fly past across her face. He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, behind her eyes. The thoughtful look in her eyes made him dread her answer.

She came back to Earth with a start and cleared her throat, quite embarrassed of how she got lost in her own thoughts. "I'm afraid I'm busy tomorrow…" she began in a soft voice but trailed off when she saw him physically deflate and his face fall as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

She continued with mischievous glint in her eyes, "But would it be terribly forward of me to give you my number. Then we can see how it goes." Her expression softened a bit as the light and colour returned to his face and he tried to suppress a wide grin. His eyes that suddenly went dull, now returning back with a gleaming light.

"It is terribly forward Miss Hughes," he mirrored her expression. "But not that I mind." He couldn't believe his own words the moment they had left his lips and became instantly worried whether his words might have put her off. He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed her expression was still cheerful, flirtatious even. Maybe just as she had said earlier that night, he could afford to live a little.

He retrieved his humble mobile phone from his coat pocket and handed it to Elsie, "You do know how to work one of those, don't you? Not too old fashioned?"

She scowled playfully at him and proceeded to type the numbers in. Elsie pressed the dial button and her own mobile rang. She ended the call and handed the mobile phone back to Charles, "There you go."

"Thank you for…" he couldn't finish the sentence for a cab pulled up outside and honked too loudly. Its blazing headlights lit, gliding past them as it came to a halt. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder back at the street and at the gleaming monster of a cab that had shattered his precious moment.

"That's for you I guess," Elsie smiled.

"Yes," he smiled back, desperately wracking his brains on what to say.

"Good night Charles and thank you," she said and her smile melted into a much more gentle one at the knowledge that this little adventure was finally drawing to an end.

"Good night to you too Elsie," he nodded with a smile, his heart skipping a beat at how her smile changed and how incredibly beautiful she looked as the light framed her face. A few wild strands of hair, adrift in the air. His unspoken words hanging in his mind and in the air between them.

He turned around to leave and willed himself not to look back as he descended the steps that led to the street. As he opened the door of the car, he looked back up at Elsie, standing in the dim light of the hall way. He smiled at her even though he wasn't sure if she could see him clearly. He got in and closed the door.

"To the Abbey sir?" the driver asked as Charles closed his door.

"Yes," he replied without thinking and he continued to look at her through the glass.

The car pulled away and sped up, the neighbourhood passing by quickly. Too quickly. Charles settled down in seat. Pulling out his phone from his coat pocket, he went through his list of contacts till he reached the latest one. He couldn't help but smile widely at her name on his screen.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Thank you so much for your lovely reviews on the previous and chapter and a very, very big thank you to all of you for being patient with me. I will do my best to update the next chapter as soon as I am able to and I would be very grateful if you could let me know in the reviews your thoughts about this chapter and this story. Hope you enjoyed! See you soon with the next chapter!