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.

24. Chapter 24- Colour, Sweetness and Light

The Acquisition of Memories- Chapter 24- Colour, Sweetness, and Light

A/N 1: I know I have always struggled to keep my tenses consistent throughout a piece of writing- I think I am all over the place in this chapter- so apologies in advance.

A/N 2: There is a song that has been a bit of an earworm for me of recent months. Given that this fiction is now set on a Sunday, and prayer and religion are important aspects of Charles and Elsie's lives, this too has seeped into the last chapter, and now this one. I think this song sums up some of Elsie's sentiments and changes in perspective over the years with Charles and her approaches to accepting her life in service that I will touch on later in this chapter. It is from the ever poignant and beautiful writer of the human condition- Mary Chapin Carpenter. The song is called The Moon and Saint Christopher. Mary Black has also done a version- (which gives a good bright bell ringing and lilting Celtic tone to it watch?v=cgZCbHcp1JE ), but I do think that this next version is my favourite- done live in a trio of musician, playing their various songs 'in the round', harmonising beautifully together to boot (Mary Chapin Carpenter, Nanci Griffith and Roseanne Cash). Found on You Tube watch?v=IoPTCQazeIY . Chapin's intro just says it all too "A tune that is really about making choices in your life and then learning to live with them."

But, poor old Nanci in this one- the song obviously struck a raw nerve with her at that time. It is just beautiful, though.

Here are the lyrics:

The Moon and Saint Christopher
(Mary Chapin Carpenter)

When I was young, I spoke like a child,
And I saw with a child's eyes
And an open door was to a girl,
Like the stars are to the skies
It's funny how the world lives up to all your expectations
With adventures for the stout of heart,
And the lure of the open spaces.

There's two lanes running down this road,
And whichever side you are on
Accounts for where you want to go,
And what you are running from
Back when darkness overtook me,
On a blind man's curve.

I relied upon the moon,
I relied upon the moon
I relied upon the moon
and St. Christopher.

Now I've paid my dues 'cause I have owed them,
But I've paid a price sometimes
For being such a stubborn woman,
In such stubborn times
I have run from the arms of lovers,
I have run from the eyes of friends
I have run from the hands of kindness,
I have run just because I can.

Now I've grown, and I speak like a woman,
And I see with a woman's eyes
And an open door is to me now,
Like the saddest of goodbyes
Well it's too late for turning back,
So I pray for the heart and nerve.

I rely upon the moon,
I rely upon the moon
I rely upon the moon
and St. Christopher
to be my guide.

So, Protestantism is not big on the following of Saints, so maybe for Elsie – think of Charles Carson in this song instead. Saint Christopher is the patron saint of travellers- I think that can mean travellers through the cycle of life- not just 'out on the road' travellers.

A/N 3: At the end, I will post links to all the artworks I have extensively referenced in this piece. It is worth going to look at them. Much of what I describe and discuss about the compositions through Charles and Elsie has been derived from The Tate Britain's excellent website. I have had to play with the truth a little on a couple- as not all of these painting were actually hanging in 1926, or have ever been hung, in the Tate Britain Gallery- but they fit the bill for me in this little Chelsie fiction. I will add notes accordingly.

CECECECECE

"You look ever so lovely, Elsie. It is new, isn't it? The blue shows up your eyes so well." And he reaches around to kisses her on her cheek. "Do you have our six-pence there, Love?"

She picks it up from the dresser and turns to him to slip it safely inside his waistcoat pocket, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the lips. As her fingers go to wipe some of her rouge from his lips, both their stomachs give annoyed growls, and they grin at each other.

"Shall we go see to that cup of tea now, Mrs Carson?" Charles asks as he proffers his arm to her.

Elsie quickly retrieves her purse and summer hat and links her hand into her new husband's arm- still the same woman, but now his wife and lover- more herself than she has ever been, and part of something that is brighter and freer and so much more than the sum of both of them.

CECECECECE

As they enter the Palm Court of the Ritz, the room is light and breezy, and the apricot tones contrast strikingly with Elsie's new French blue dress that kicks out and flows beguilingly around her legs as she walks in, completely at ease and in tune with these fine surroundings. Charles thinks the whole effect just makes her eyes look as bright as the sky on this clear and beautiful summer's day as it shines through the lofted glass of the high arched ceiling above their heads.*

Their High Tea lives up to their every expectation and fulfils their desperate hunger quite as well as any feast they have ever seen set at the Abbey could have. They start with a delightful variety of finger sandwiches made with the fluffiest of breads, cut into precise fingers, of which they both consume double what would be customary for most guests, and it is all washed down with a choice of teas from different parts of the sub-continent. This is followed by a selection from a very large range of delightful pastries presented to them on the finest china tiered display stands. More than some of the latter offerings surpass even Mrs Patmore's skills on that front- not that Charles or Elsie would ever let her know that! Although, this fact is hardly surprising, given that the world's most famous chef and his menus and recipes and training are still heavily influencing the current staff and the running of the Ritz kitchens, even five years after his retirement and departure to the continent again.**

In fact, there are so many pastries to choose from, that Charles and Elsie feel rather conflicted, and far too hungry from their recent exertions and disrupted meal patterns, to have to choose between them. So, although it is far from correct etiquette, they surreptitiously cut their personal selections in half and swap their plates part way through eating so that they may each enjoy a greater range of the delicacies and can compare their thoughts on all things creamy, crumbly, fluffy and light and sweet. It is heavenly. They feel like a couple of naughty school children trying to hide their mischief from the prying eyes of the teacher. Or in this case, the glares of the various well-to-dos at nearby tables, who are really being decidedly more ill-bred than Charles and Elsie, what with their obviously condescending attitudes towards everyone else around them.

However, it does seem that Charles and Elsie's silly mood from their bath time earlier is seeping into their conversation. Charles keeps slipping into mild innuendo and slightly risqué private jokes whilst managing to maintain a very austere exterior. He merely raises a single eyebrow suggestively at Elsie from time to time, often leaving her quite unable to respond with any sort of decorum. Thus, he effectively forces her to silently but bemusedly stew at him. Such is the case when he purposely gazes, for slightly longer than would be deemed appropriate, at the featured sculpture of the room, a golden nymph bathing in a fountain. Then he passes a cheeky comment, in all seriousness, about how it hardly compares to an even more stunning piece of artwork from Scotland that he has been fortunate enough to spy in a similar state of repose not so long ago. Elsie nearly chokes on her piece of gateaux! Then Charles' eyes glitter fiendishly at Elsie when he sees bright red heat prickle up her neck to just below her ears. She doesn't know whether to smile broadly at him for the compliment or be frustrated at him for making her blush so readily in public!

Really, if this sort of thing happened under his nose in the servants' hall at Downton, there would have been more than a few footmen getting a dressing down from Carson the Butler!

Although truth be told, Elsie doubts that any of the footmen would be able to try such a line on a lass without devolving directly into far coarser language.

Darn that Charles and his clever way with words!

Elsie tries to smile demurely at him- but fails miserably as she cannot keep the knowing brightness from her eyes.

Well, after all, I did say I wanted to see more of my playful Charles, and really, he does make me smile- the cheeky beggar!

Elsie considers how and when to further chastise Charles about such behaviour. It is just as well they have had their fill of the high tea, for Elsie definitely feels that Charles Carson is in dire need of some fresh air. And, it would certainly not do her any harm to cool down a little and remove herself from the scrutiny of others for a while!

Elsie asks Charles quietly but pointedly, "If you are quite done, I would like to know if you are ready to step out with me again,… Mr Archimedes?" and she wickedly arches an eyebrow at him.

Charles' face breaks into a broad grin, and he cannot help but chuckle as he moves quickly to help Elsie with her chair.

CECECECECECE

They set out for a leisurely stroll across Green Park and towards the Canada Gates at the edge of Buckingham Palace. It is a lovely day with a splendid clear blue sky overhead, and it is not so hot as to be uncomfortable. Many people are out strolling and picnicking in the parks after the cities morning church services have finished. Young families sit together to enjoy the sun and each other's company. Nannies of the well to do families of Belgravia and Pimlico are wheeling perambulators about, and even a couple of nurses are taking their elderly charges out for their weekly constitutional in the clear air. It is lovely to approach their day in London without having to feel its immediate grime and press. The oldest of cities feels decidedly alive and bright and young to Charles and Elsie, who are still bathing in the newness and light-heartedness of their own happy and changed circumstances.

As they near the Palace, they know that they are too late to see the changing of the guards as the remains of the onlookers of the ceremony have mostly dispersed. They cross over the Constitution Hill roadway and skirt the edges of the immense Palace Gardens on the paths behind the Palace itself- strolling leisurely in the shade and making their way to the trams that run down the Vauxhall Bridge Road towards their destination at Millbank near the Thames.

CECECECECE

They are jostled a little by the movement of the tram, and once more Charles struggles to avert his gaze from the movement of his wife's body against him. Now that he knows what beauty lies beneath her clothing, it is extremely difficult to withhold the wanting hum that rolls from deep inside his chest at the sight of the voluptuous movement of her…her... Oh dear, Lord! Steady Charles, old boy…Steady.

Elsie smiles knowingly at his conflicted state and feels very pleased. But really! Control yourself, my man! She feels compelled to speak, lest their day devolves into too much unseemly talk in public.

Her brogue rolls relaxed and thick, but she states firmly, "Mr Carson, I know that I said I wanted to hear your thoughts on your various favourite artworks at the Gallery today, but I do hope that you can offer up something a little more intellectual than your recent efforts in the Palm Court."

Justly chastised, Charles just humphs at her a little and mutters, " I shall do my best Mrs Carson, as I always try to, for I should hate to be a disappointment to you on this, or on any other front. Although, I hardly think it is all my fault you know."

And with that, they just smile broadly at each other, and he still cannot stop himself from waggling his eyebrows at her in that slightly suggestive manner he has so recently developed.

CECECECECE

They wander quietly through the cool and spacious galleries of the Tate. Charles follows where Elsie's interests draw her, for he has visited most years during the London seasons with the family and does not want to become an annoying tour guide thwarting her enjoyment. Besides which, it gives him more time to observe his wife looking so lovely and relaxed in such elegant surroundings again- the stiff mantle of her duties tossed aside. He feels he can somehow see inside her better as he watches her- by seeing what appeals to her and what the different artworks say about her own thoughts and feelings, even when she does not speak.

As was to be expected, some of her selections surprise him. And as they chat, it becomes apparent that she is drawn to the landscape paintings a little more, like the rural idylls of a John Constable, especially the ones showing the common man peaceably working the land, like The Glebe Farm.*** and The Valley Farm****. In contrast, Charles has always enjoyed the history behind the people of various portraits, often the ancestors of people he has encountered through Lord Grantham over his years in service. They are a solid reality for him. They are somehow comforting to him. Charles likes placing these peoples' lives in the timeline of historical events, trying to find continuities with the past- trying to divine some sort of reason behind why life in England has played out in particular ways. But, when Elsie asks him to lead her to his favourite painting currently on display, Charles surprises even himself with the choice that springs immediately to mind- the one that he has actually returned to so many times in recent years. For, standing before it once more, Charles sees it with fresh eyes and is pleased with the way that it embodies all that he likes about history and provenance, but is also surprisingly attuned to Elsie's own interests a little more. In some ways, it affirms the affinity he has always felt for her and his enjoyment of her way of thinking.

They stand for a long time in front of a Stubbs painting of Mares and Foals in a River Landscape.^ Charles explains quietly, "I first saw it many years ago when I was still valeting to his Lordship's father, and I travelled with the elder man on business to the estate of the 8th Viscount Midleton at Peper Harrow, in County Surrey^^. It was hanging over a door in the dining room, with two smaller Stubbs paintings either side of it. I had been called upon to double as a footman at table, due to many of the Viscount's staff succumbing to a Scarlet Fever^^^ outbreak and leaving the Estate quite short on numbers to attend. This painting was a welcome focus for the endless hours waiting to attention during the course of the meal."

"Well now, you will have to tell me sometime of your favourite paintings at Downton that may provide the same distraction, Mr Carson. I have never thought to do so over all these years. But, I guess I never thought of you as being anything but fully attentive to the family at all times."

"Oh, you would be surprised how little direct focus is needed when waiting table, Mrs Carson. Much is routine and can be picked up at the edges of my consciousness it seems- seeing and pre-empting when they should require anything and the like. And,…" he speaks even more quietly to her, as if he were about to tell a state secret that should not be overheard, he went on, "do not let on that I said this, but conversation at table is not always particularly scintillating, or erudite and fascinating, to me." She flicks her somewhat surprised eyes towards him and releases a short chuckle.

"Never!" she says in mock surprise.

"But I am thankful for that, really, for if every night involved a biting exchange between Mrs Levinson and the Dowager Countess, or the attempted assassination of a politician by a member of the family, or the denigration of the family by guests like Mr Lawrence Grey, I should probably have had a heart attack years ago!... But,… likewise, Mrs Carson, I am sure you have developed some favourites of your own that I should like to know about," and he smiles at her.

It is strange, he thinks, that this has never come up for them, for their regular night time conversations often revolve around the staff and family, and perhaps the latest books they are reading, but he figures that, without the pictures there in front of them to refer to, they have not ever felt compelled to talk on such subjects. Unfortunate really, but now at least they have one more delightful thing they can share in their life together. Better late than never, he figures. No regrets, Charles. Do not regret.

"Shall we sit for a while, Mrs Carson?"

"Indeed."

"So, anyway, this painting is actually only on loan to the Gallery for ten years, as a gift to the Crown when the Earldom of Midleton was conferred to the 9th Viscount in 1920.^^ I have been ever so glad that I could see it each year during the season, as I don't get to travel to all the great houses much anymore. It is right, I think, that more people get to enjoy these great artworks."

"Well, maybe now with some of these large estates having to open their doors to the masses just to make ends meet, more people can enjoy the likes of what Downton has collected over the years."

"Hmm," he grumbles, "Well I do not think I will ever be comfortable with hoards of the great unwashed traipsing through His Lordship's home. But, it seems that I am the last to have a say in any such matters."

"Oh, you oughtn't to speak of your fellow man quite so harshly, Mr Carson,… well… at least not on the Sabbath, anyway," Elsie finishes with a conspiratorial smile in order to soften the blow a little. "So, tell me why you like this one so much, I thought you preferred the portraits a bit more."

"Hmm, it is true, I like tracing the history of the people in the portraits, but even this painting speaks of what these great families see as important, Elsie, their brood mares. It is about the refinement of all that is seen as good… at least in the truly great and benevolent houses… and, I also like that their patronage has allowed someone like Stubbs to create this work; for otherwise, we may not have it to enjoy at all- Stubbs could have just as easily ended up in a shop or factory like you or me- lived poorly and died young. These great houses have protected many of us from that sad fate."

"Well, I cannot disagree with that. My life has certainly been more secure for it, especially with such a... hmm...I don't know…such a generous family as the Crawleys, despite their financial difficulties over the years. They have always been respectful to us, even in our lowly stations, I will grant you that Mr Carson."

"Hi praise from you indeed, Mrs Carson!" He looks towards her, pleased at her admission to at least some affection for the family. "We have always been well provided for, at least you and I have been, it is true. And I fancy that both our opinions on the running of the household have been quite important his Lordship and her Ladyship over the years."

"Aye, well the fact that we are in London and staying at the Ritz would seem to attest to that fact! We do know well enough what we are about, you and I... But, tell me what else you like about this picture, Charles."

"Well…I like the precision with which he paints. They are so life-like, don't you think Elsie?"

"Indeed. They are, almost like a photograph."

"But better, I think. There is more… life to them somehow than what a photograph could possibly capture- and well… a photograph would miss all of the colour too…Did you know, Elsie, that Stubbs actually spent a lot of time studying anatomy at the York County Hospital and also dissecting the dead beasts and noting all of their anatomies so that he could paint this well?^^^^ I like that dedication to his craft too, really- as gruesome as it all sounds." Elsie stays silent, looking at the painting and letting Charles speak. "But, mainly,… I guess… it reminds me of my childhood... in the stables. I like that it is a picture of nurturing mothers and their bairns. There is just so much strength there. And they look so …alive. Quivering… don't they, Els?" He sees her nod from the corner of his eyes and goes on. "They are so alert to their surroundings- it is like Stubbs was actually there painting them in that single frozen moment, and that they know it too… They almost look ready to startle. They look a bit skittish like horses get when they think they need to protect their young….And… I like that when you look at it, your eyes are always drawn back to and around the group- time after time, and that they stand so clear and sure against all of that storm brewing in the background. Like The Dowager, and Her Ladyship…and you- especially you, my darling Elsie,… just like you always have, he thinks, but does not need to say. "…It all just feels … safe, like the little ones will still be ok… but it is kind of exciting too…free… and…I don't know…they are just so…vigorous…vivid, even…hmm…maybe…" he trails off. "...But I am sure you must just think I am being a bit mawkish again."

She almost whispers to him as she squeezes his hand a little, for she understands him exactly. "Don't always be so sure of what I will think of your musings Mr Carson, and please don't be so quick to be embarrassed by them, either. I would not have requested this outing if I did not want to know your mind on such things. I actually think you have captured the soul of it all very well indeed. They are magnificent animals, I have always felt that even as a wee lass," and she squeezes his hand again, and intones, lower still, "thank you for showing me, a chagair." He squeezes her hand back and runs his thumb once more over her wedding band.

CECECECECE

They rise and meander through more of the galleries, finally alighting in the Turner Bequest wing. Elsie releases his arm and makes her way to the centre of the first room. She appears almost overwhelmed, her hand has risen to fist over her heart as she turns slowly around on the spot, trying to take it all in. As a whole, the paintings, the whole room, is incredibly bright when compared with some of the rooms and the darker toned paintings they have perused so far. Charles is taken aback by the vision of Elsie- the contrast she strikes against the stormy oranges and pinks and yellows in her calmly floating and swaying blue dress- much as it was in the Palm Court, only freer- more natural.

"Oh…Charles…" she whispers, "I have not seen anything the likes of this before."~

"Hmm… I have always found these rooms a little…unsettling…I am not sure Mr Turner's work is quite my cup of tea, really."

"Oh, but Charles.. just look… look at all the light! It is stunning."

Charles looks at her in the midst of it all- the calm at the centre of all his storms. "Well, I cannot disagree with that sentiment, Mrs Carson," as he gazes lovingly at her, "but I think we may have a fundamentally different perspective on these things."

Elsie catches the meaning in his eye just then and smiles serenely as she returns all of her love to him with her own eyes. She starts to move from one massive painting to the next, and he follows silently behind. It is all steam rail and sail and clouds and storms- all indistinct and …well…messy to Charles' eye. But then Elsie will stop and point to a little feature here or there, sometimes moving right up to a painting to view the intricacies of a single brushstroke, finding the nuance of feeling within the tones of the tiniest patch of paint. Elsie does not speak often. She just points to things for him, tugging on his sleeve a little at times to bring his attention to all the wonders she has seen in the painting. And, where once it had all appeared as a blurry mess to Charles - where once he had stood and tried in vain to fathom how anyone, let alone the trained eye of a painter, could have seen the world around them in this way- now, his Elsie is showing it all to him anew.

She stops for longer in front of two different paintings of the same locale.

"Oh! Look, Charles, it's Brighton."~~

"But it is not Brighton as I see it and remember it, my dear, I think I prefer Mr Constable's version of the same scenes.~~~They are a bit more realistic, at least for the time in which he painted it."

Elsie is quite animated now. "Oh, come now, you cannot tell me that our day at Brighton was not just as bright as this painting shows it? Mr Constable's seems positively dull compared to the light in these. And look, Charles! He has even captured that haze of salt that sits in the air at the beach. I think it is just wonderful."~~~~

"I suppose."

"It is just so full of… I don't know… the feeling of life, Don't you think?... Kind of like your Mares and Foals, ... but different…"

"Quite different, to be sure. Less distinct, that is for certain, but I guess I know what you are saying."

Elsie is only half listening as she scans closely over the whole massive painting.

"Where are the people, though, Els? Isn't that where life is at?... Where it is found?"

"Well, that is a truth, Mr Carson, to be sure, but… he has all the signs of our lives there- the things we build, and … well… doesn't the weather- the air around you- doesn't it just make you feel alive sometimes too?"

"Hmm…I suppose so… Well, I do know one thing it all brings to mind, my dear, and that is that, apart from the last two days I have spent with you, our day at Brighton was one of the happiest and most memorable…" and looking down at her hand resting in the crook of his elbow, he finishes quietly, "and the most important, of my whole life."

She just squeezes his forearm where it is supporting her hand in unspoken agreement. I know. Her eyes answer his heart-filled gaze.

Charles is the first to break their reverie. "But which is your favourite painting, do you think, Elsie?"

"Oh, by far and away this one… Come with me." And her hand tugs at is arm to lead them into a secondary room. This painting is smaller, and darker than the other Turners, an earlier work of his, before all the yellows and haze and large swirling brushwork overtook his work.+

Her brogue is rolling thick and fast now. "See? It's our Yorkshire, Charles. Do you see it? It could almost be Downton there in the middle of it all. It looks like home- with all that cultivated land and the life.. and death –I guess… of the hunt, there running through it. And... and then all that wildness of the moors in the background- that cannot ever be tamed… and then the sky, Charles- just look at it! The sky looks just like that at home don't you think? It looks like he just plucked down that unpredictable late Autumn Yorkshire sky that roils above us sometimes and... and somehow…he just threw it straight into this frame…." She sees that Charles' eyes have widened a little at her enthusiastic outburst. "Oh, dear…umm..gosh!… Now I am the one who probably does sound overly sentimental!"

"Not at all, Love. I just… I guess I have never thought of how much you are at home at Downton, how much you must love Yorkshire, too. I guess, I have often thought of you as being far away from your one true home, and that you abide your life at Downton… tolerate it, but nothing more."

In an out of character move for both of them, Elsie actually takes his hand in public as other patrons wander around and through the galleries, and she leads him to sit with her on a plush open backed viewing settee in the middle of the room. She angles towards him. She needs to tell him… needs him to understand.

"Oh Charles, you are good with numbers, and you know that I have now lived almost four times longer in Yorkshire than I ever did in Argyll. My accent may never have left me, but I most assuredly did leave Scotland- and an awfully long time ago too- and I have seldom ever been back. My home is Downton, Charles, and Yorkshire,…and… with you. I have loved my life at Downton, really I have, even all of the hard work. I chose it for myself, and yes, it was out of the limited choices I really had in life… but I chose it…and I built it for myself as best I could, and I think I could now hold it all out in my hands before my parents, if they were still here with me, and be proud to say 'Look, Mam and Da, this is what I have done, this is what I have made of the life I was given.++ Does that make sense Charles?"

He stares into her eyes, moved but still perhaps a little perplexed. But he just lets her speak her piece as she looks intently down at their joined hands.

She continues, very quietly-privately. "Charles, I asked you once if you wished you had gone another way and maybe had a family of your own… and you never answered, but that is no matter now, for I think I may be right in thinking that you have not wished for a different type of life at all, not after I learnt about Griggs and Alice did and how it hurt you, and certainly not now that I know all about your early life on the estate and your Mother and Father dying when you were so young. I know why Downton is so important to you- why it was the very best of choices for you. …And, really, we both knew from the outset the commitment that our jobs required in the days when we came through the ranks. It is like we just cut those other thoughts of having a family off completely when we chose the top jobs in service. Am I right?"

Charles just nods. There was never any possibility for them to have both, not like Bates and Anna could so many years later, and in very different positions on the household staff.

"But, Charles… I need you to know that my answer to my own question back then would actually be somewhat different today…You see, back then I did wonder what might have been for me if I could have had a family- bairns of my own- because, I guess, I was by then definitely at that phase of life where every possible sign that I could have had my own children was leaving me… and forever. And it upset me some. So, I hadn't learnt to live with all of my choices fully back then.

That is why I saw Joe Burns later on, really, to see if I could have a part in his family, and with his children. But when I turned him down, it was really because of something that Sweet William said to me at first, Charles. He said, "I don't know how this house would run without you Mrs Hughes, I really don't". And he just stopped me in my tracks with that. And... I looked around at our halls Charles, and at all the staff you and I were taking care of, and it finally hit me- all of those things I had taken for granted- all of the young ones I had looked out for over the years, and always with you by my side- the whole time….and I just knew that, if things had gone another way, that I could have actually been a good Mam to my own bairns."

"You would have been the best one ever, Elsie-love." Charles rubs her hand in his.

"And you would have been the very best Da, Charles, you know that. But really, we already were weren't we? And, it wasn't until William said it that I could see it, and then I could be happy with my choice to go into service, because it did give me a family of my own- with you- and with all of the pride and grief and happiness that goes along with loving people and working towards the same things together. So that is why I tried to tell you about Joe at all back then, I think,- because I didn't have to, not really. And I told you that I turned him down because I was not that young farm girl anymore, and I certainly wasn't, but I didn't really have the right words then to tell you all that I was thinking over at that time. Hph...I am not sure I am really making it any clearer now, Charles."

"It's all right, I understand, keep going."

Elsie huffs out a small bemused laugh. "Well, as it turned out, you had all the right words for me. Life had changed me, and yet, there I was - busy regretting that, instead of seeing all the good things that had grown out of my choices in life and learning to live happily with them- learning to accept how they had shaped me. But I could not seem to tell you all that at the time- that when I turned Joe Burns down… I was actually and finally able to stop wishing for what I could no longer have in Argyll, or, if I am truly honest, what I could never have had with you- our very own bairns that might have been ours if we had somehow met sooner,… but really, when I think on that particular, even when I first met you I was still too old to even think that it could ever have happened for us- so that was never really in any plan for us it seems…. But back then, when I said no to Joe Burns, I did realise, at least, that I had actually long loved Yorkshire- for the way it has allowed me to make this life side by side with you, my man. I saw Downton more like you always have from then on, and being by your side as my family- the only family I was able to have really close to me every single day—that was a very grand thing to have indeed. And it was enough. That is what I should have told you then, Charles- it was enough."

"Maybe you did always know, Elsie-love. Otherwise, you would not have looked so hurt that day I said the upstairs family was the only family I had. I was wrong then too. I didn't see everyone downstairs as my family, not even you, or at least I didn't acknowledge it. But when I saw how much I hurt you, I had to think on it all too, you know. That's when I saw what you just do so naturally, Els, all the care you take of the young lads and lasses, and especially William at that time. And even how you were trying to help me corral the worst excesses of Thomas and O'Brien. Maybe you did know it all back before Joe Burns courted you again- that Downton is where our people are, but I was not doing anything to help you see it clearly because I had not thought of it at all that way myself yet."

"It's all right, Charles. You apologised straight away, and I knew you did not mean to hurt me. How could you have known… if I didn't know it all in so many words, myself? What a pair of old nincompoops we are, hey?" and she gives him a wry smile and looks deep into his dark eyes. "But know this now, Charles Carson, I have no regrets for what might have been- whether in Argyll on a farm or if we had somehow met earlier and left service to have our own family- for what would be the point? None of it can be changed. All that I know is that you have always been, and you still are, my very best friend in all the world, Charles. You have always been respectful to me, you know when you have slipped up, and you make amends quickly, which is more than I can actually say for myself, and you have always been my most trusted and strident ally- always. And really, that is what I was not willing to give up just to return to farming with Joe. That friendship...that love, Charles. I could not walk through that door and say goodbye to you forever and walk away from you- it would have broken my heart. Downton has always been enough for me… Your friendship has always been enough for me, Charles… And, now I find that I am just lucky enough to have been given even more than I could ever have hoped for in this life- with you Charles. I have been truly blessed in my life with you, and I have no regrets anymore, Charles- not one. That is what I wanted you to know. That is all."

Charles' heart is full. That he has even managed to listen to all of Elsie's honesty without tears falling from his eyes astounds him, for his emotions with regards to her are so raw and real and readily accessible nowadays- like they are always running riot and rising up through his very skin, and such that he feels all of his control vanish in the overwhelming lightness and brightness of it all. He cannot speak. And though it is not something that Charles would ever have thought he would do in a public place, he grips ever tighter to her hands and leans in close to Elsie's face and kisses her very tenderly upon the lips, for in this moment, what else could he possibly say?

CECECECECE

Silently they rise and walk, Elsie's hand is once more resting on Charles' arm. Side-by-side with the Yorkshireman she loves, they both look long at Elsie's painting of the Yorkshire that they both know and love. Side by side. And, just as he had once done for her, Elsie helps Charles to see and appreciate the storms and the sheer light of life that shapes them and changes them once more.

CECECECECECE

Assorted A/N's

*Cesar Ritz did apparently take a lot of time choosing the colour scheme for the Palm Court so that it was the most flattering to the majority of people's complexions (read 'white/ Caucasian' here'!) and the electric lighting was tested over and over to achieve a similar effect. It struck me that Elsie's blue dress might work surprisingly well in that setting too.

History of the Ritz as per Wikipedia wiki/The_Ritz_Hotel,_London#The_Palm_Court

And as per the Hotels own publication.

**Despite finding no evidence that this was the case in 1926 at the Ritz, I have gone with the idea that Arsene Avignon was by then the Chef de Cuisine (Executive Cher/Big Banana in the Ritz kitchen). JF actually featured Avignon in DA when Alfred goes to the cooking test day. Just makes sense that Avignon was Sous Chef under Escoffier and then succeeded him upon the latter's retirement. This might give me more of a chance for Alfred to get a look in from Chelsie tomorrow- before they ship out to Scarborough.

***The Glebe Farm. By John Constable (c.1830). /art/artworks/constable-the-glebe-farm-n01274

****The Valley Farm.By John Constable (1835). /art/artworks/constable-the-valley-farm-n00327

^Mares and Foals in a River Landscape. By George Stubbs (c.1763–8)

. /art/artworks/stubbs-mares-and-foals-in-a-river-landscape-t00295

^^this provenance is accurate regarding the Viscount of Midleton. wiki/Viscount_Midleton

^^ re the Stubbs painting, I have made up the donation to the Tate from 1920 when the Earldom was conferred to the 9th Viscount of Midleton, as the Tate actually only acquired the print in 1959.

^^^ As you are probably aware- the JF and DA timeline is full of holes, Charles supposedly came to Thrushcross Grange, Ripon, as a 14-year-old (1870) to work as a junior hall boy and by 1875 (19year) was the 6th Earl of Grantham's (Robert's father) second footman at Downton. However, Charles was simultaneously meant to be was treading the boards with Griggs during these years (1870-75) … according to the DA Wikia anyway.

So, I have decided that my history of Charles having always lived on the Downton Estate makes all this a bit easier. My stab at when he may have been valet and gone to Peper Harrow is in 1880- (Charles' mid-20s)- mainly because there actually was a lovely Scarlet Fever outbreak. ?Itemid=30 that can conveniently answer my plot needing Charles to be in another house's dining room serving so that he could be looking at the Stubbs painting in the first place! GAH!- the knots you can get into with historical fiction! Also, the 8th Viscount of Midleton was actually a conservative politician for a time, so maybe the fictional dinner with the fictional 6th Earl of the fictional Earldom of Grantham was to discuss such matters as the issues in Transvaal, South Africa and the lead up to the first Boer War at the end of 1880. … Now breathe out!

^^^^Basic history of the artist George Stubbs, but more can be found on the Tate website too. wiki/George_Stubbs

~J.M.W. Turner wanted his life's work to remain as close to a whole body- within reason, and so he bequeathed over 30,000 works to the British people much of it housed at the Tate Britain. I was lucky enough to see some of his works in London many, many years ago, but even better- and with a fewer people crowding through all at once, albeit still very busy, when many of his key works were brought to my home town's very good little state gallery. Unforgettable- it really is a bit overwhelming to be in a room full of this much painted light- hence Elsie's response. Only Australian Artist Fred Williams work in a full exhibition has had a similar effect on me…So, all I can say is- just go see it (Both Turner or Fred Williams really) if you ever can.

~~ this is one of the Brighton Paintings I have Elsie looking at- Brighton Beach, with the Chain Pier in the Distance, from the West. By Joseph Mallord William Turner

(c.1827, 1843)

. /art/artworks/turner-brighton-beach-with-the-chain-pier-in-the-distance-from-the-west-n01986

~~~ Charles is talking about Chain Pier, Brighton. By John Constable (1826-7). The Tate didn't actually buy it until 1950, but it was on display at Agnew's gallery in London in 1926- so I just shifted its venue for my story.

. /art/artworks/constable-chain-pier-brighton-n05957/text-illustrated-companion

~~~~ This is the painting that reminds Elsie of their day at the beach: Joseph Mallord William Turner, The Chain Pier, Brighton (c.1828). /art/artworks/turner-the-chain-pier-brighton-n02064

+This is Elsie's favourite painting: Joseph Mallord William Turner
Raby Castle, the Seat of the Earl of Darlington (exhibited 1818)

. /art/artworks/turner-raby-castle-the-seat-of-the-earl-of-darlington-tw0972

++Thanks once more to Virginia Woolf and Mrs Dalloway for this turn of phrase.

CECECECECE