The Acquisition of Memories

by BorneToFlow

Embarking on their honeymoon, Charles and Elsie begin to process the events of their wedding day and those leading up to it. A series of internal reflections; lengthy, fun & sometimes in-depth conversations; &, interspersed with requisite amounts of playful holiday fun & honeymoon adult times. From Ch19 rating is a tasteful but strong M. Some S5/6 JF canon is blissfully ignored.

11. Chapter 11- Preparations

The Acquisition of Memories. Chapter 11- Preparations

A/N: I have adapted, slightly, a gorgeous line from Mrs Dalloway, By Virginia Woolf later in this chapter. It is marked with an asterisk *.

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Having settled into the room, Charles and Elsie realise that the hour is getting late and they still have an 8pm performance to get to. Without enough time to dine in the hotel restaurant and be waited upon across multiple courses, they decide to have room service send up a light supper for them instead.

They chat amiably about this and that over dinner on the balcony of their room that takes in the glow of the street lights of Piccadilly and overlooks the expanse of Green Park. They are at ease, although at times, Charles senses a slight nervousness in Elsie. He reasons that given the recent and somewhat embarrassing exchanges he has had with Mrs Patmore, Elsie's nerves are to do with the solid spectre of the luxurious king-sized bed they will share later in the evening- together fully for the very first time. Each time he sees her worriedly suck the bottom corner of her lip towards her teeth he reaches for her hand across the table and gently strokes the back of it with his thumb until she looks up from the table top and meets his eyes. And his eyes tell her that there is nothing to fear, that there is only love, and it is gentle and kind and that she will always be safe with him.

They go on eating, stopping every now and then to look out over the new electric street lights and the verdant treetops of Green Park as the light of the day completely fades. They listen to the bustle of people and cars. It is all so different from the dark and secret silence and that encompasses their home at the Abbey. The nights there are only ever lit by the brightness of the stars in a clear sky. In London, the street lights cast their own strange spell over the two residents of the hotel suite. The lights seem to have bedded down the grime and press of the hot London day and they bathe the city and its multitude of unseen, unknown residents of the night in a warm and reverent glow. And high above it all sits Charles and Elsie- looking out on the magic of the remains of their day.

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Afterwards, Charles and Elsie separate, each to their own bathroom and dressing room on either side of the main boudoir to bathe after their eventful morning and day of travel, and before changing back into their evening finery once more.

Charles shaves carefully for the second time that day, which has always been his habit, for it would never do for him to sport a day's worth of stubble whilst tending to dinner at the Abbey. He runs his hand over his cheek to check for any stray whiskers and his palms catch and pull slightly at the still moist and silky smooth but age-thickened skin of his jawline- the sign of a good clean shave. Pleased with his work, Charles then slicks his ever unruly forelock back with some Brilliantine oil and buttons himself into his finest starch fronted evening livery. He has decided to forego the complimentary valet service the hotel offers with this room since dressing for the evening is just a part of who he has been for decades and he needs no special attentions in that regard. "Same as it ever was," he thinks to himself.

He is ready before Elsie and feels mostly calm, but also at times- it washes over him in waves- unaccountably different and unsettled as he holds the fine silk top hat Lord Grantham has gifted him. He paces a little and shuffles the hat in his broad hands, fussing to smooth its fabric of non-existent wrinkles in the absence of any silverware to polish to calm his nerves. He circles the stiff brim of the topper around and around in his fingertips as he holds it in front of him at waist height. He waits for Elsie to finish, listening more intently than decorum probably dictates is appropriate, as she releases the plug of the bath and he hears the water run out. A vision runs unbidden through his mind- of Elsie lifting her naked body from the bath, water sliding off her and glistening on her heated, peach-blushed skin as she reaches over for a fluffy white towel- all softness and curves. He feels a hot stirring in his loins and he shakes his head briskly, fumbles more rapidly with the brim of his hat and struggles vainly to maintain his indifferent Butler's mien.

To keep his mind off of what is happening in the next room; Charles goes to the wireless in the corner of the sitting room of their suite and fiddles around with the dials. He listens briefly to the news of the new Princess Elizabeth's christening that morning in the chapel at Buckingham Palace and then settles on a station that is playing some calming waltz music. Charles pours himself a finger of scotch from the drinks tray on the sideboard. He now senses that he will need all the help he can get to calm his raw nerves tonight.

He is anxious about the memories that might assail him when he returns to the theatre tonight, albeit, not to one he ever played in- his meagre talents having never extended to the heights of playing in Leicester Square. He squirms when he thinks of the questions Elsie may ask about the past and of the ribbing she may give him about it. He is also nervous that the Prince of Wales himself may actually attend the show this evening and that they may be obliged to be introduced to him, particularly since Charles has attended to the family at Lady Rose's presentation ball at the Palace three years ago. He hopes ardently that His Royal Highness will not recognise him as a servant. But then, why would he? The Prince would likely never have looked any servant in the eye in all of his life. He would not remember Charles, and he has never clapped eyes on Elsie, that is a certainty. He wonders how he should arrange for them to be announced to the Prince if required. Even after attending many very important, and even famous, people at the tables of Downton, Grantham House and beyond, Charles fears he would not know what to do and say on this occasion. He is especially worried about trying to explain why a butler and a housekeeper are frequenting one of His Majesty's personally booked boxes at the Empire Theatre. He worries for how Elsie will feel about it all- highly uncomfortable, no doubt. No, it will not do. Charles resolves that an announcement of the truth is the only way to proceed, for as much as he is always able to avoid saying too much at the wrong time when serving and managing personnel, he is and always will be a hopeless liar. He will simply introduce themselves as Mr and Mrs Charles Carson, at the behest of Lady Rose Aldridge, currently abroad in the United States. Oh, how he wished that he had some cutlery to polish right now! That always seems to calm him down when he is anxious back at the Abbey. That, and Elsie's steady presence.

"Hmm...Funny," Charles thinks to himself- how these musings are so unlike the thoughts he'd had earlier today- where the fleeting impressions and flashes of clear realisation seemed to happen all in the space of a breath. Now Charles feels that the negative thoughts that have been spiralling inside him around the dilemma of how to conduct himself tonight all seem to drag on for an age. He finds himself starting to pace.

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As Charles shuffles about in the next room, Elsie dries herself slowly with a pre-warmed towel. So fluffy and luxurious! She has decided to utilise the services of the lady's maid attached to their apartment, as she knows that she will not be able to reset her hair in the new style Anna had so expertly pinned that morning. Besides, she knows that she will also need some help with her new undergarments. She is hoping that a few kind and discreet words from the maid in that direction will help build her confidence about making such a radical change to her wardrobe tonight. Elsie has finally decided that there will be no time like the present to attempt this change, for she hopes that the soft magic that seems to be enveloping Charles and her this evening will weave enough wonder around Charles' eyes to have him forget the flaws she so readily sees in the full-length mirrors of their gilded rooms.

The young lass, Diana, who attends to her is very encouraging and more than a little envious of the lovely garments Mrs Patmore and Anna have gifted Elsie that– they are definitely of high quality- the brassiere is a light creamy blush coloured satin with small lace embellishments and little silk covered button fastenings down the centre back. Elsie has never felt such fine fabrics so close to her skin. That, in and of itself, makes her feel different and strangely confident, so that even without the rigid bones of her corset, Elsie's years of trained posture only add an elegant nuance to the soft lines that these new styles afford her wedding dress. So, despite her misgivings about feeling too exposed, Elsie actually feels proud of her new appearance and finds herself standing even taller.

The work Diana does on her hair is as exquisite as Anna's- a Marcel wave using curling irons- Quite the style of the moment, to be sure! Elsie likes that her long hair is pinned a little more loosely than her customary, functional work braids. She realises that they have made her look older and more severe, now that she has something with which to compare them. The girl even makes some lovely suggestions for Mrs Carson's lip rouge and cheek colour to suit the evening lighting. Elsie would not have known to do any of these things if she were left to her own devices. Thankfully, Elsie's hat from the day still suits the evening's entertainments quite admirably. Miss Baxter had embellished the mauve-tinted straw with a fine rich purple satin band, crepe edgings and soft frangipane styled silk flowers that all tones in beautifully with both her dress and velvet coat. And although all the opulence of their London sojourn would have stifled Elsie and made her feel like a fraud this morning in the presence of everyone she knew had they hosted the breakfast in the great hall at the Abbey, somehow tonight, Elsie feels ready for the theatrics of the evening, both on and off the stage, since she does not really know anyone they might be meeting. Having completed her dressing, Elsie feels refreshed and younger and giddy with excitement all over again for the night ahead.

Elsie thanks the young maid and is sure to tip her generously for her efforts as she dismisses her. With impeccable manners, Diana wishes Mrs Carson a lovely evening and much happiness for the rest of her wedding day. Elsie makes a mental note to tell the Head Housekeeper of the room maids of the girl's excellent work before they leave the hotel in two days' time.

Elsie then picks up the single silver six-penny from the dresser that she had carefully moved from her wedding shoe to her travelling shoes earlier that day. As she goes to place it back into her wedding shoe for this evening's new adventure, she turns it slowly around in her fingertips, watching the soft light glide and glint across its shiny new edges. Two sides of a coin, spinning on edge through life together- Charles and Elsie. Then she smiles fondly as she recalls the letter it came in from Charles, which she had received just last night. Most of it she could probably quote verbatim, for she has read it over that many times! But it is a lengthy piece and Elsie feels a sudden need to check for its existence on this strangest of all days. She had carefully tucked it into her luggage, not wanting to part with it, even for this short trip. Elsie read it over so many times on her wedding eve that she had finally dropped into a relaxed and peaceful slumber, waking with it still neatly folded on top of her counterpane. Never had she received anything so precious and honest in writing from a man before. Elsie cannot stop herself from quickly reading through it again now. She feels sure it is becoming etched upon her heart and that she will remember it forever.

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Friday, 28th May, 1926

To My Dearest Elsie,

As you know (indeed, better than anyone I care to think of, after all of these years), I am a stickler for keeping up with the traditions that any grand occasion requires. As such, I do not see that the occasion of our wedding should be any different. And so it is that I have happily discharged my duty as the intended groom to provide you now with all of the particulars of the day that we finally came to an agreement over. I do hope that tomorrow proves to be everything you could desire, for you deserve nothing less.

It occurred to me that there is one tradition which cannot be discharged by the people who may otherwise have attended to these particulars due to our dual status as orphans and the fact that our impending nuptials are occurring at this latter stage in our respective lives. To wit, it is my understanding that it is considered good luck for the bride to carry certain items on her person on her wedding day that may bring luck and good fortune to the married couple. Namely, that you are to be gifted with something old -to represent continuity; something new- to represent optimism for the future; something borrowed to denote borrowed happiness; and, something blue- to symbolise purity, love, and fidelity. Plus, a sixpence for your shoe to wish for good fortune and prosperity.

Whilst I am sure that Anna, Mrs Patmore, Miss Baxter, and no doubt many others taking care of your needs tomorrow, will happily see that these small items are seen to, I feel the need to break a little from the tradition of these being provided solely by your 'ladies in waiting', so to speak. I do not wish to cause offence or impose upon their good will in giving you the items enclosed with this letter. However, I feel that you have taught me well enough, Mrs Hughes, to know that we must adjust our actions according to the needs of the times we live in. And so, I respectfully ask that you carry these two items from me, along with the equivalents you may be gifted by those ladies closest to you now. I do not think it will be tempting the fates too much to have you carry these extra tokens to symbolise all that I hope and pray for in our future together as man and wife.

In the first instance, it had occurred to me that for the 'something old' you need to have on your wedding day, you need look no farther than the man who will be standing proudly at your right hand at the altar tomorrow morning. Alas, I feel this may not quite be what the words of this small wedding tradition intended, nor could I guarantee that my own nervous personage is enough to convince Fortune to favour us with either longevity nor great luck. Instead, I have decided to gift you with two items that I feel represent most adequately all that this quirk of wedding day traditions aims to embody.

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The first item you will find is one of only two mementoes that I have left of my dearly departed mother- the other being her gold wedding band, which I will be honoured to place upon your hand tomorrow. Her ring was found wrapped in the same silk handkerchief enclosed in this letter. It was kept in a drawer of my father's room and was handed to me by members of the estate who cleaned our cottage after his death when I was 12 years old. Even though I was able to stay close to my father and work alongside him as a stable boy from the time of my mothers' death until his own, he never once told me of these things. I think that is because his grief at losing my mother was too great, plus, he was ever a man of few words. I can only guess that he gifted the kerchief to my mother at some point after their marriage. I understand that it may sometimes be a gift a husband gives his wife on the occasion of the birth of their first child. If we suppose this to be the case, it makes this handkerchief at least as old as I am – and thankfully for you, somewhat easier to carry!

I feel very strongly, even though I only knew my mother until I was six years old, that she would have liked you, Elsie, and that she would have been very proud to include you in her family if she had been able to know you in my adult life. From the small amount my child's brain can remember of her, my mother was a strong woman, and not without her moments of fiery intensity. Sometimes when I see the fire flash forth from you, my dearest Elsie, I catch vivid glimpses in my minds-eye of my own mother's strength. And so, it is you who allows me to hold onto the memory of her more clearly. However, perhaps most tellingly in these heightened moments with you, I am reminded of my mother's constancy, for I know that even when I have done wrong, you would no more forsake me than she would have when I erred as a child. For the time that the good lord saw fit to keep my mother in my life, she was always there for me and that is what built the home I was fortunate enough to grow in and be loved in as a child. And it is you alone, Elsie, who has given me that same sense of constancy in my adult life. For I now know, most clearly, that you are the reason I have been able to feel so at home at Downton over all these years.

I believe that my mother would have recognised in you a kindred spirit, Elsie, and that she would have given you this treasured item of hers to carry on your wedding day, if only she could have. This small, and now quite delicate, handkerchief is embroidered with her initials 'EC'- Elizabeth Carson- and I somehow feel it more than serendipitous that you shall share these initials with her after tomorrow, and that the threads that link the two of you in my life, through these fine, embroidered letters, matches the colour of your very own lovely, pure and faithful blue eyes.

Miss Elspeth Hughes, please do me the honour of accepting this gift of my mother's to represent the aspects of the wedding rite that calls for something old and something blue to be carried by the bride. For, just as it is with my own heart, I know that I could only ever entrust this most humble and fragile of gifts to your very own constant and loving care.

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The second item you will find wrapped in this kerchief, Elsie, is one that I see as encompassing the parts of the wedding rhyme that require you to carry something new and something borrowed, whilst also being the sixpence you will carry in your shoe for luck. You will see that this particular coin has been newly minted this very year, and has never been used in circulation prior to it coming to you.

However, I am afraid I am somewhat selfish in my intent with this gift, as it is one that I would like you only to borrow from me for the duration of tomorrow. I hope that you will humour me in this, and see this sixpence as a fair exchange for the ring that I will, of course, freely and gladly give to you tomorrow, even if you should disagree with my particular desires in this matter. I am merely asking to be able to carry the same six-pence you will have with you on our wedding day for the remainder of my time upon this earth. Since men do not get to sport wedding bands as women do, to symbolise the sacred bond and promise we will make to each other tomorrow, I would see this penny as my equivalent.

I know you will probably think me rather a sentimental old fool, but I should very much like to carry this coin in my waistcoat pocket every day. To me, this particular six-pence will act as a memento of our special day and a talisman for our continuing good fortune in marriage. In this coin, I will always see the two of us and the journey that got us to this particular point in time. Perhaps, more pointedly, this coin will continue to remind me of all the times we could not make either head nor tail of one another! And I know that I shall then smile at the fact that, despite all of our little disagreements, we are always on each other's side. But most importantly, from tomorrow, this coin will always represent the faith and the hope and the bright and shining love and happiness that I have no doubt will surround us on the day that we will start our newest journey in life together. I hope you will see this as a more than reasonable exchange for the sheer amount of love I have for you, my dearest Elsie, for the promise I will make to you, and for all the happiness that you are, in truth, free to borrow from me at any time from this day forward.

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Oh dear, Elsie! I have just read through my entire letter, and I fear that you will absolutely think me a sentimental old fool! It seems as if every letter of love I ever wished that I had written to you has been poured into this missive. I ask only that you do not chide me too, too much for my verbosity, and please accept that I may never truly be able to find the right words to tell you exactly what you mean to me.

And so, I wish you goodnight, Mrs Hughes. I fear that I shall not sleep much tonight for the thrill of knowing, fully, something that I have in the past and for far too long taken for granted- fool that I am!- Namely, that we are now and will forever more be 'stuck' with one another.

Until tomorrow, my sweetest love,

I am, and shall remain,

Ever yours,

Charles.

oOOoOOoOOo

Elsie smiles happily to herself as she rereads every nuance of the letter he has taken such obvious pains to compose for her. It is real. She did not dream it, or any of the rest of this day! He is here. And... – Oh My Gosh! - He is waiting! I have taken far too long!

Elsie quickly slips the letter back into a pocket in her travelling case, pops the six-pence into her shoe again, tucks the delicate handkerchief safely into the little inside pocket of her purse and springs lightly towards the door to the inner room of their suite.

Elsie feels a sudden urge to hold her lovely, sweet-hearted man again- for, most certainly, it is true that her Charles is not a complete stranger to romance after all!

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Charles is jolted out of his spiralling thoughts by the faint click of the dressing room door opening on Elsie's side of the suite. He looks up and immediately stops worrying the edge of his top hat as his heart stalls inside his chest.

'What is this terror? What is this ecstasy? he thinks to himself. What is it that fills me with extraordinary excitement?

It is Elsie, he says.

For there she is.' *

And before he takes his first halting step towards his wife, he wonders briefly- How is it that your heart's desire can still be responsible for the stopping of your heart? She looks as radiant as she did that morning at the church, but now there is the mystery of the night that seemed to have slipped a fine, sultry and exotic film over her whole being. She has never looked so fine- truly magnificent. And he feels almost that he should kneel down low in supplication at her feet because she has saved him from himself and his loneliness born of his misaligned sense of duty. He wants to feel the silken hem of her dress float across his forehead and his shoulders like the forgiveness from the hands and wings of an angel.

"Milady" he breathes reverently-"you… you are absolutely stunning..."

She smiles serenely at him and sways as she glides towards him. He cannot tell why but she even walks differently in this moment! It is a beguiling mystery to him and a gift all in one, for he knows that he will slowly unwrap her tonight and he prays that she will allow him to reveal all of her mysteries through the touch of flesh on flesh. They meet in the middle of their shared space and he bends his head to lightly kiss the back of her proffered hand.

As he looks up again into her glittering dark eyes he is stopped short by the smiling love he sees in them and he feels that he just has to tell her what he can of all these fleeting notions that have flooded over him today. But how can he possibly put it all into so many words and make her understand? He knows that it is not possible, and in another blinding flash Charles realises that there is only so much that we can ever truly know about another human being. And this makes him feel unaccountably sad- the sense that maybe he may not ever be fully known by her, and in turn, that all he might be able to do is to scratch the surface of her being- grasping helplessly for her essence and trying to hold it gently in his open palms before it disappears like a willow-the-wisp, seeping slick and cold out of his flailing hands. He gazes deep into her eyes and she strokes the side of his face when she sees the sadness flicker in the depths of his dark eyes. And so he tries. He tries to tell her everything because he has given his word and he is a man of honour and integrity- she has told him that herself, and he will abide. He tries to tell her – of the church, the sunshine, the people of the village and what they seemed to represent to him on this day. He tries to tell her that he knows she worries that he has a preference towards always to serve Lady Mary first and foremost- and he desperately wants to reassure Elsie that this really is not so. He needs to tell her that his allegiance is first and foremost, and evermore- to her. And so it truly is- from this day forward- as he edges towards retirement and the call of duty as a butler recedes- it is now that he sways totally towards the hours of his life being dedicated to her and her happiness.

But he is struck dumb, he has not the words to say it all so well.

And then Charles hears himself blurting out "I was wrong, Elsie, I was so very wrong- all those words I had Mrs Patmore relay to you." He sees her face suddenly fall and she is leaning away from him and it is all going horribly, horribly wrong- and so he stumbles forward- he has to make her understand!

"No Elsie, please, please understand me! I should not have said that in my eyes you are beautiful, for you are so much more than that. So very much more. You do not need my eyes to filter the truth through, Elsie, for the truth of it is just that - you are. You just…are, don't you see? Elsie- you are truly beautiful to all in this world with heart and eyes enough to see."

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TBC!

A/N: I felt that Charles' upbringing in the Victorian age would have meant that a letter such as he has written here would be a natural part of this unusual, but ever proper courtship. No doubt Charles would have studied various forms of love letter writing (he is a diligent researcher I feel!), but I hope that what I have imagined shows a little of the spontaneity that would ultimately overtake him as he sat down and actually got into the flow of writing to Elsie about their wedding day. I think it is something that Elsie would understand as important for Charles to do for her too, because of the courtly history and chivalric origins of love letter writing. I hope that I have also captured the nature and the older style of language that such a love letter may have taken – writing is always more formal than the way people speak day to day anyway.

I hope that you have enjoyed this little chapter of soppy romance. :)