The Acquisition of Memories. Chapter 7- A Wee Dram
All in an instant- in flicking of a grain of sand- in the blinking of an eye- Charles has seen all this – his wedding day so far flitting across his minds-eye and he feels the veil has been lifted from his own eyes. The shroud is thrown off and he feels intensely alive as he sits beside his Elsie on the rolling and rhythmically rocking train. As they set out on this new journey together he feels clear of head and of heart and fairly bursting at the seams with unadulterated joy – the revelation of his life. But still, no words can he find that will do these feelings justice. Yet, now he has some small hope that Elsie will always understand him best, purely because of who she is- how she is, and so he feels it behoves him to always try to share with her what he feels inside. And so he tries.
As the impressions appear, and before they can slip completely from his grasp, Charles looks to Elsie by his side to tell her.
"By the way," his voice rumbles low in his chest as he leans in closer to her, almost conspiratorially, enveloping her in a secret, private space that stretches no further than the rise and fall of his warm breath upon her cheek, "have I mentioned that you presented quite the regal vision of loveliness when you walked down the aisle towards me earlier today?"
Elsie's breath is caught in her chest as his declaration trickles low and sweet over her face, like cool brook water over smooth riverbed stones- it runs deep within her. His voice not quite a whisper, it never will be- as she knows after all of these years by his side, for his deep baritone is not so easily subdued, and its rich tones seem to embody for her all the rugged Yorkshire mystery and beauty that is Charles.
Oh! and what a thing to say, thinks Elsie, with a very pleased smile on her face. They had barely had time to speak two score of words to each other after the church service. It had seemed that almost everyone in the village was greeting them with well wishes and congratulations.
Charles' voice slides over her again, encasing Elsie in its deep and mellow warmth as she holds her breath.
"I have never seen any of the ladies of the house look quite as beautiful as you did today in the crisp morning sunlight as it flooded through the arched doorway of the church. You quite took my breath away.' He murmurs softly from somewhere deep in his chest- inside his heart- his lips barely moving. She is enchanted. He looks intensely into her eyes and Elsie cannot look away. A smile sparkles in her deep blue eyes and she exhales the heady tension of the private moment he has built with her. Will wonders never cease, she thinks to herself, where is my blustering butler? -Semi-disgusted at the lack of propriety that such blurring social boundaries this train ride in first class would normally cause in him! He is being quite the poet with me now!
In their normal setting, if Mr Carson ever sounded this serious or waxed so lyrical at work, she would have found some sharp poniard to throw back over her shoulder at his sentimentality, as she strode away. She would find a retort that would root him to the spot as she put him in his place. But this is different. This is not the inaccessible, buttoned-up butler speaking to her now. This is not that same man speaking. This is Charles- her Charles- and Elsie can see him clearly in this moment and she knows that he is not just trying to flatter her. Elsie knows she will not try to put him in any sort of place that might drive a space between them in this moment. He has meant every word he has said to her and it all comes from the depths of his sweet and brim full heart. She has no words.
Elsie bites on the inside of her lip to help control the tears of happiness that well up, unbidden, from her heart into the corners of her eyes in this very moment. Charles reaches tentatively to her lips and smoothes his thumb across the corner of her bottom lip that is caught lightly in her teeth. His other hand cups her face and dashes a small tear away from her high cheekbone before it can fall onto her silken collar. His steady hands span the sides of her face with infinite gentleness, much as he had held her that first time he had kissed her in his pantry. Elsie's hand reaches to cover the back of his own and then he leans in and brushes his lips, feather-light, against hers. Elsie swallows and draws in a shallow and quietly shuddering breath, still not at all used to this level of physical contact with Mr Carson. Charles' eyes smiled softly as he slowly moves his head back from hers.
"Will wonders never cease" he murmurs, "my Elsie with no sharp retorts".
"Quiet you," she smiles through the tears that have welled up in her eyes, and she clips him lightly on his upper arm with her open palm, "or you will be hearing the sharpness of my tongue before you can even blink."
And on a sudden impulse, she reaches for his lapels and draws him down for another kiss, deeper this time. Longer. Her tongue instead of sharp is beguilingly soft as it tentatively glides along his lower lip. Elsie hears his sudden intake of breath and she feels a tingling pang drive low into her belly at its sound.
"Grhmmph "he half groans, half grumbles as they part. One of Charles' eyebrows kinks slightly skyward as he eyes her intensely.
"My very own Gaelic Faerie Witch Queen, upbraiding me again".
Elsie notes that the tone of his voice is huskier than she has ever heard it before, and the eyes that smile back at her are much darker, suggesting a new mystery that might break through- one that she will have to uncover - later.
Reluctantly, Elsie draws back, still not really knowing what had possessed her to be so forward with him, but she knows that she must withdraw before she loses herself completely in his arms. Wide-eyed, she sinks back into the seat with a shaky but contented sigh. Charles keeps a tight hold upon her hand and does not take his eyes from her flushed face.
"Pfew! Well…well" she says, "this morning has all been a bit much, I must say. I feel I could do with a wee dram of whiskey to find my footing again before you read that letter from Lady Rose. It has been quite a day- and we haven't even made it to luncheon!"
"The finest Scotch whiskey," he intones in his best butler voice, "As you wish Milady" –Charles replies as he leans towards the door to signal for a carriage porter.
Elsie quickly sits upright and reaches for his arm.
"Och! You daft man! It's far too early in the day for that sort of thing. Whatever would people think of me-drinking scotch in the middle of the day?!" she exclaims.
"Milady, need I remind you, we are privately seated in a first class carriage. No one is going to raise so much as an eyebrow when they think that the fine gentleman sitting next to you is the one drinking said scotch in the middle of the day, whilst we devour a plate of sandwiches, and you demurely prepare a cups of tea from a pot- both of which I intend to order along with that DOUBLE scotch." He lowers his voice in mock secrecy. "We'll go halves in that wee dram, I believe." And he winks at her then. "Your honour shall not be besmirched by a paltry tumbler of whiskey under my watch Milady." And Carson gives her his best, deadpanned butler's face.
"And what, pray tell, Mr Carson, is all this 'Milady' palaver you are on about? I do believe you may be trying to lead me astray," Elsie chuckles.
"Oh you don't know the half of yet, Milady" he growls out low and close to her ear and with a glint of animal steel darkening his eyes.
Elsie's breath hitches as she turns and plunges even deeper into his eyes. She finds herself reflected back from those very sultry depths, her mouth slightly open with want and at a total loss for words once more.
CECECECECE
Just a bit more than a dram or a drabble. A bit of a teaser for 'ron. Next up - Lady Rose's letter- I promise!
Next up - Lady Rose's letter- I promise!