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.

32. Chapter 32- Called to Account

The Acquisition of Memories. Chapter 32- Called to Account.

A/N 1: Here there be monsters ... umm ...I mean angsties- sorry!

But I do kind of hope you may need a tissue or two- if it is good enough. It is my first real attempt at writing true angst- although Charles musing on his future place at Downton in Chapter 25- Reflections may have been close (Well, it made me shed tears for him as I wrote it- but I could just be a bit doolally).

A/N 2: Here there be adult content, too. Not sorry- NSFW!

But, fear not, it is still true to my former promise of respectful engagement between these two characters- so no trigger warnings should be necessary.

CECECECECE

"Oh dear God," she pants out to him, "oh God… that …that… oh, my man… Haaah…" she sighs out long to catch her breath a little. Then a broad smile graces her face as the wonder of sharing this pleasure with her magical poet-lover tickles her to her core. "Haaah...Well…" she sighs out, "Carson the Magnificent, that was… officially… incredible… how… how… do… you do this to me, Charles? … Dear God…" and her belly and chest are still heaving huge drafts of fresh air into her lungs… air fresh with the heavy exotic musk of their lovemaking.

It is perfect.

Their six-pence of good fortune still harbours all the heat of their passionate lovemaking between their locked hands. Charles and Elsie stay splayed in their oddly angled positions across the bed- both completely spent. Charles traces one hand up and down Elsie's leg which lies heavily across his chest and he turns his head every so often to place little kisses around her ankle.

"I must say, we do seem to be becoming rather adept at all this, don't you think, Els?"

"My God, yes! HA! And that may well be the understatement of the year, Charles!" And with that, Elsie starts giggling uncontrollably again. Now that everything else has been released to her man's safe keeping, her residual joy needs an outlet too. She is all giddy again- euphoric and helpless- and so incredibly happy and astounded to have found anything like this sort of passion at her stage of life. It is an absolute gift and a blessing.

He sighs out long and happily and squeezes tight to Elsie's hand again, around their coin of love. "Oh, Els… I have never been so glad for someone to give me back a paltry six-pence they once borrowed in my entire life!"

Elsie's heart stops. She blinks twice rapidly and suddenly finds coiling energy within her that she did not know she had left as she wrenches her hand free from his and sits bolt upright in white cold shock- as if her skin has just been flensed. With the hottest spike of rage she has ever felt towards anyone in her entire life she yells out.

"WHAT?!"

CECECECECE

Elsie scrabbles across bed, almost kicking Charles in the head in her haste to be away from him. She bends to grabs the closest thing resembling clothing and throws it around her shoulders as Charles sits up briskly, rapidly blinking his wide and confused eyes as he reaches out for her instinctively. She clutches his robe tight to her front like the flimsy armour that it is and tries desperately to cover her naked vulnerability.

"Don't touch me!" she bites out venomously.

Stripped bare, Charles visibly winces as her words whip across his heart.

Elsie storms fierce and erect across the room only to crumple seconds later into an absurdly ornate ruby velvet Louis XVI armchair set next to a small side table in their suite. Hunched forward on her elbows, Elsie clasps her open palm across her mouth tries to stifle the wrenching sob that is escaping from the hollow of her chest. Her other hand fists into her eyes but fails to stem the flow of vicious tears.

Charles takes one tentative step towards his wife from their bedside, his arms flailing helplessly by his sides as his hands start clenching and unclenching around something that he cannot quite grasp.

"How could you?" she whispers- almost to herself, but then her wrath rises along with her voice and her eyes lash up at his face. "How could you bring her in here, Charles?! Into our time together- our most intimate time! How could you?! How could you?! How dare you?!" she snarls this last out ominously low, "How?..." she trails off as the flash of fire peters out as quickly as it had flared up. Her voice cracks across her weeping soul. "Our six-pence…" She swallows hard and gives a small mirthless laugh as she shakes her head incredulously before another heaving, harsh sob scrapes out from her throat.

Charles is utterly floundering. He feels the ground listing madly beneath his feet, but he somehow stays upright enough to cross at least a small part of the vast chasm that has suddenly ripped open between them. He clutches on to the only part of Elsie's speech that seems at all steady to him. Our six-pence… and finally, the penny drops.

"L-Lady… Lady Mary!" he stammers out. "Good God, Elsie! What kind of a man do you take me for! If that were the case I would drive back to Downton today myself and have His Lordship drag me out into the front courtyard to be SHOT!"

She eyes him with a sliver of such blistering hatred that he actually blanches white. It slices right through all of her icy tears. "Well, he'd have a damned time wresting the pistol from my own hands right now if you did!" She spits out at him from atop her tower of bitter hurt.

Elsie never swears. Charles mind latches onto this minuscule fact and adds it to his rapidly expanding instinct that none of this right now is any good. Not at all. None of it. Elsie has never struck out at him like this before. Never.

His mind is tumbling over his panicked thoughts. Part of him cannot even believe that she would think along these lines at all. At the moment he just cannot fathom any of it. But as he sees his Elsie looking so small- a hard and jagged little stone peeking out from behind a rare morning hoar frost, all spiked and brittle- it breaks him. Where is my soft and strong Elsie? Oh God, I've lost her! And she's somewhere else- hurting. I hurt her. In the worst possible circumstances- I hurt my Lady. Oh, dear God, please help me! He pleads silently with his maker. And in this moment it does not matter why Elsie might have come to this state of belief about him, or them, or their perfect six-pence of promise- it only matters that she did. He feels like an absolute cad. He feels lost. He does not even know how much of this is really his fault- only that he has to try to fix it. To make it right. To not make it right with her … well… that just does not bear even thinking about. He gropes about for the right words- any words.

Charles' voice quavers in an almost imperceptibly low and fear-filled tone.

"You… you can't really mean that, can you?...Elsie…?"

Elsie looks up at him through the ~glistening menace of her pain. Naked and unsure. She sees his hurt and dread-filled eyes and her heart immediately and desperately aches for him. "No… no, I don't…Charles" she chokes out past the agonising lump of spleen that seems to have taken up residence at the back of her tongue. She lifts her arm and melts her hand into his gigantic warm paw. "Come…" she weeps out as she draws him down to her. He gratefully kneels before her and awaits his penance. And he waits- for that is what he does. And he hopes- for her understanding. And he prays- for forgiveness- at least eventually. He wants his Elsie back- like nothing else in all this world- he wants her.

She rests her forehead heavily against his bare chest. And everything is rising hot and fast again and soon she is lightly and rhythmically beating her head in sheer frustration against his bulk as she tries desperately to control her aching mind that is trying to put some sort of order and a name to all of these rampant feelings and thoughts.

It hurts.

Everything.

Everything just hurts so much.

Come on Elsie.

Elsie-lass.

Come on now, lass.

Elsie Hughes! Pull yourself together! You are not like this!

And she draws in a shuddering breath past the thickness of her tears- as deeply as she can manage.

Charles tentatively encircles her with his arms, gripping tightly onto the bunched-up cloth. He just wants to swaddle her up. Wants to rock her softly and calm her- make it all better. He is scared. So scared. He has never seen Mrs Hughes like this- not once. He has never seen her this way at all. But this is his Elsie, clear and bright, and this is all so different and new now- and it hurts. Oh, God how it hurts. It hurts so much- this place. Help me. Help me to be back on her side, oh please God, help me. One great hand reaches up to gently scoop her trapped hair from the collar of the gigantic robe she is engulfed in and he starts to smooth it out across her back, for he needs something to soothe and calm himself too. And it his innate tenderness that finally overwhelms her and she breaks suddenly and with full and horrifying force against him.

But I am like this!

And Elsie sobs petulantly and uncontrollably and messily against him- her fists balled up and grinding into him with all of the frustrated and angry force she can muster through the single conscious and marginally controlled thread that she has left in her mind, for she knows that if she does not press him like this she is liable to pull back and strike.

Everything.

Everything that has been building up and that she has stifled and pushed down, and that she has held tight counsel on, or let slide and not mentioned at all in the build up to their wedding- and all that it represents - all of those years of playing second fiddle to others needs and demands, over and above her own, almost every single time- and of Charles doing exactly the same thing- all of it- it all comes crashing down over her and the only outlet for the deluge is through her swollen red eyes. Her temples ache horribly under this onslaught of emotions that she just cannot control- she cannot. And she just hates that fact, and it only makes it hurt all the more. And she is just so, so worn out from it all. Tired. So very, very tired and she just cannot hold onto anything anymore- none of it- not now. Not now that Charles has torn the sanctity and safety of their one little penny away from her. Everything seems sullied. Violated. Every word they have spoken and every promise they have made over it- now coloured and not entirely theirs. Everything she thought they were building- together alone- the love that they were making together- it all feels like it has been ripped violently away and she has been left lying naked and shamed upon their dirty sheets.

But he is still there.

And her sobs have finally started to subside. Perhaps she has already plumbed the depths of what she has to feel about all of this and there really is nothing left. But, it seems more likely that the body can only maintain this heightened level of distress for a brief time before it physically gives out. That is likely a good thing anyway. She feels somewhat unreal. Utterly exhausted and strangely floaty, and yet still rather too much like that lump of melting jelly she started out the very first morning her married life as. And this silly thought makes her hiccup out the tiniest snort of laughter.

Oh God- is this what I waited all my life for! She thinks wildly. Lord- is married life always lived in such utterly ridiculous extremes! And for some reason, this thought tickles her too. What have you gone and got yourself into, Elspeth Mae Hughes? She chastises herself.

And still, he is there.

Ever the silent sentinel.

Solid and real.

And still trying his utmost best to love and protect her.

He has not run from her- not for one second. And that means something.

That is real.

Charles feels her starting to relax into him again- but there is still an edge of uncertainty to his Elsie- something stiff and unyielding. He knows that he will be called to account. And he will make an account of it all. He will. His mind has managed to reel in one small way that he may be able to get Elsie to understand- a way that might allow them to rebuild this most beautiful thing they had. He cannot think that it will ever be the same, but in time he hopes it may still be strong enough to support them both. He will account for his side in all of this. He is still here to do just that- and he will. He will.

And Elsie feels, more than ever before in her entire life, that she needs someone to hold onto right now -and he is here and he is real. So, Elsie silently slips her arms around him and holds her Charles right back, for she knows deep down that she still really does want him to hold her too. For he is her Charles, and she promised him.

When Charles feels her arms finally tighten around him, he breathes out the pained and heavy breath he did not know he had been harbouring this whole time, and then he buries his face right into the silken depths and strength of her hair and inhales the sweet and fragrant life of her deeply into his lungs. His arms tighten around her even more and his eyes glisten with relief that his soft and strong Elsie is somehow slowly returning to him. He knew. I always knew, he reminds himself, I did. I knew you would never forsake me, pretty Elspeth. Oh, thank you, God! Thank you for my Elsie-love.

Still, there is work to be done.

oOOo

"Elsie-love…" he asks quietly and nervously. "Will you please let me explain? Will you please hear me now?"

I told him I always wanted that. Elsie actively reminds herself. I did. And my word is good.

She pulls her sticky tear-soaked face away from his sodden chest and looks him straight in the eye- well, as best as her own swollen and bleary eyes will allow. But she is a proud and honest woman, and this is the only face she has to show him right now- warts and all. She nods her head ever so slightly in acquiescence.

"Just…just give me a moment…Elsie-love. There is something I need to get…" Elsie swipes at her running nose with the sleeve of his robe. "Let me fetch a handkerchief for you, I will be right back."

She relinquishes her grip on him and he dashes quickly to his dressing room to retrieve his grey suit jacket. He quickly pauses to mop some of Elsie's liquid pain from his skin and to at least pull on a pair of trousers, for it might prove difficult to make his point seriously right now if he were to remain in the altogether.

oOOo

When he returns to the room his heart catches painfully at the sight of his normally solid and perfectly postured lady- her beauty broken down and looking as if she has been physically flung down onto the chair from a great height. And in a way, he knows it is true – from the very peaks of their lovemaking - down to this now. She was thrown. And however inadvertently it may have been, it was still at his hand. And now she is all crushed and forlorn and hidden by the weight of his own borrowed mantle. By the weight of who I am, he realises with immense sadness. But Charles is never one to shirk his responsibilities. No!- That is who I was! I am HER man now… and I am better than all that I once was. I am more than that, and I will fix this.

With renewed determination, he silently and cautiously approaches her again. Respectfully- as one would with a skittish horse- just like those magnificent Stubbs ones they went to see together yesterday. I want all of the memories we have shared back- I want them clear again. They are ours. And his Elsie, he knows, is just as magnificent as they- as anyone- and she deserves even more respect than all of them put together right now. He hopes to convince her that it is exactly what he has been doing all weekend- even through every movement of their cherished six-pence across her body as he made love with her just moments ago. He hopes to convince her that he will continue to respect her this way- always.

Still bare-chested, he pushes another red armchair over to face hers and pulls a crisp clean handkerchief from the breast pocket of his wedding suit before draping the jacket over the back of the chair. He seats himself before her- their knees touching. He lifts both of her listless hands gently into one of his own and carefully wipes the moisture of her tears from them. Then he lifts the kerchief and dabs it ever so gently across her face and closed eyes, and he feels inordinate relief when she leans lightly into his hand and murmurs some small sound of appreciation low in her throat.

"Elsie-love… here" and he intones quietly as he places the crisp white cloth into one of her hands so that she may blow her nose. Which she does, and in possibly the least lady-like fashion she ever has done- but there it is. And besides, Charles really could not give another fillip* for any of that right now. He just wants his Elsie feeling better again.

"Elsie…" he speaks quietly to her again as she flickers her eyes open to him, and he holds her gaze unflinchingly. "I have so much I want to tell you to make all of this right again. I know I have hurt you- but please believe me when I tell you that I never, ever intended to. And it rips at my heart to know that I have somehow managed to bungle everything that we have shared together this weekend. And I want a chance to make it up to you. Please?"

Elsie just gives his hand an almost imperceptible squeeze and her eyes tell him- You can. We will. We will be all right together.

He breathes out a long sigh of relief and he speaks ever so softly to her- wrapping her up in the warm embrace of his dulcet tones once more. "And, Elsie, I have something to show you, when...when you are ready, that may help you to understand all of this. But, before that, please know this from me now- now and forever after -and above all else, a chagair, this is the absolute truth—that whenever we are together so closely in our intimate time, Elsie-love, you utterly overwhelm every single one of my senses and fill my entire soul so completely that absolutely nothing else- and no one else but you ever, ever crosses my mind." He states adamantly. "You believed it after the first time I made love to you, and you later guessed so easily about Griggs and Alice. And I can only ask that you believe me again when I say that it is still the case today and especially with our little coin. Do you think you can be open to believing that again?"

She draws in a shaking tear–filled breath past her grief-swollen lips.

"I will try," she squeaks out. "That is all I can give you right now."

"Thank you, a chagair…But now, if I am to make this right, Darling Elsie, I need you to tell me where all of this comes from- all of it. Can you do that? Do you think you can do that?

Elsie just feels so indescribably weak right now. Is this what happens to hysterical women? she thinks blindly. It almost feels as though someone has shaken her roughly by the shoulders and slapped her severally across her face. But she knows that this cannot possibly be the case- not with Charles Carson here by her side.

"I…I don't know Charles. My head hurts so."

"Cup of tea? Do you want me to arrange for a powder to be sent up."

His dedicated attention to her needs makes her heart overflow once more with the sweet love she holds for him and that was never truly lost- not even in the midst of her rage. A couple of tears trickle down her cheeks again and he brushes at them with his thumb pads.

"Thank you, Charles. I think that might be a good idea for both of us," she replies meekly.

"Good, I will get Jenson to arrange it. It shouldn't take long. Maybe some shortbreads or cake too, hmm? We can take lunch quite a bit later then as well. Mid-afternoon, perhaps- if it suits you- so we have time for a little nap after this tea and then...well...anyway,… we can discuss all the rest later."

Elsie just nods her agreement.

And with that, Charles leans over Elsie and helps her straighten and tie the robe around her more securely before he scoots off to efficiently make their arrangements over the phone with Jenson- scribbling a quick note out for him regarding their late-luncheon service as he is speaking. Then he grabs his shirt and waistcoat and quickly makes himself a little more presentable for this later hour of the morning, and for opening the door to Jenson when he hands him the note, and of course, for the maid with the tea trolley. Then he thinks that Elsie might feel a bit better if she were to dress now too, so he crosses silently to her dressing room to select something for her. But, when he looks to her on the way past the armchairs, he realises that she is probably still too fatigued to bother with full day clothes yet. He will help her with them later- after a nap and a bath before luncheon he thinks. So instead, he selects her lovely nightgown that he has given her so very little time or reason to wear these last days. He cannot help but give a wry little smile at this. Surely we will be all right? he thinks. How can we not be with this much love between us?

He looks closely at Elsie's carefully stitched cornflowers around the neckline of the simple and smooth cotton gown. They are lovely- the colour of her eyes in the sheer summer light- and very skilfully done- quite intricate. Just like my Elsie, he muses as he returns to her side with it. And as he sees her sitting so still and so fragile and small, he recalls once again that cornflowers represent delicacy. How fitting. But also a Bachelor's love… and given that these flowers of Elsie's will not be fading anytime soon, Charles once more feels assured that at least his love is being returned.* We will be all right. We will.

oOOo

"Elsie-love. Here. Let me help you on with this." It looks like her every muscle is weary and aches from her energetic outpouring, so he dresses her as carefully as any nurse would an ill patient, only with far more focused and heartfelt devotion. Elsie weakly smiles her appreciation to him when he is done. His dedicated care for her almost brings her to tears again, but she shakily breathes them all back in. That's enough of all that Elsie Hughes. She is still admonishing herself.

Once she is settled back in the armchair with his robe still draped about her shoulders she snuggles into the comforting warmth and scent of her man, but her eyes are glazed and unfocused, and they stare off into nothingness as they both wait for their tea trolley to arrive. Charles stands behind her and lovingly brushes out her hair, which has become quite tangled from their night and morning of passionate lovemaking together. He does his best not to pull too harshly at her scalp, but to Elsie- it feels right. The occasional wrenching brings her closer to earth each time, for the slight pain is the only thing that seems real right now. And it somehow seems fitting too- to have someone do this for her on this strange morning, where years' worth of her quiet stone-faced stoicism and self-denial suddenly shattered and the vulnerable young girl inside of her burst forth in a stamping fit of impotent rage.

oOOo

Just as there is a knock at the door announcing the delivery of their tea, Charles finishes fashioning a light braid into Elsie's hair and ties off the end with a piece of linen he had pocketed on his way back from her dressing table with the brush and her gown. With his equilibrium now somewhat returned through the soothing process of handling Elsie's hair, Charles is once more moving with his usual self-assured grace as he brings the tray to their little side table and pours the tea and serves some cake and biscuits for his very own lady.

"Here, drink this first Elsie-love- it's the powder for your headache."

Elsie winces at the bitter taste, but sweetness soon follows- as it always seems to with her Charles- as he hands her a perfectly made cup of hot tea.

"Thank you, Charles," she says quietly, still feeling a little sheepish for her recent uncontrollable display and wondering what on earth Charles must be thinking he has gotten himself into with this whole marriage lark too. He is sitting in stately silence across from her in the other armchair- so much like their shared times in her sitting room at the Abbey. Only now, their knees are touching and Charles has a lovely melting softness and a slight nervousness to him as he sits in his incomplete grey wedding suit and shirtsleeves and with his hair all messy. Still a true gentleman, Elsie does know it- despite the fact that her pained heart has just intimated something quite different.

Elsie sighs out long. It is time.

"Charles… what must you be thinking of me now?...For I don't know quite know what I even think of me right now… or of us."

"Elsie-love." He says quietly as he puts his teacup down precisely on the side table and gently places his weighty hands upon her knees. "Elsie, I think that you are my beautiful wife who is hurting right now … and… and... I think that I must love you quite terribly indeed- terribly poorly that you should feel so hurt by something we have shared so closely… and terribly deeply- because I just so desperately want to make you see how precious these last days have been to me and how much I have wanted them to be precious to you too." Elsie's cannot help her eyes from pooling with hot tears again at this. Her head is still throbbing painfully with it all. "Please tell me what you need me to do to make this right again for you, Elsie love."

"Oh Charles, I... I don't rightly know what you can do yet. Don't you see?"

"Well,…then ...maybe just tell me what you feel."

She squeaks out a pained sob from her throat, much like a small animal that has been held too tightly by an overenthusiastic child. "Oh…Charles, …I…I just feel … like… it is all somehow less now, our penny, because of where that penny is from. …I had thought that you had given that to me all by yourself - the coin that had never been used in circulation and so it was just like the two of us- two sides of the same coin kept only for each other over all of these years - side-by-side together- but still somehow shiny and new. And I thought that it was all your own idea and that you thought of it just for me and you were only ever thinking of me with regards to it- just like your letter said - and that it came to me with the same pure intent that you gave me your mother's ring and silk handkerchief, Charles…" and her voice breaks again at this. Somehow it seems foolish and childish to speak of such a silly little thing. But she feels all of this keenly- and mainly because he presented it to her that way- that it was this important to him too, and she respected that notion and wanted to share his joy for them in that way- through their good-luck penny. Normally little tokens have not meant much to Elsie in her austere existence- for she is not a naturally nostalgic person. But this one thing- she embraced the meaning she thought was in it with absolutely everything she had to give. It is the symbol of the space that is gouged deep into her heart that houses all of her love and faith in Charles, and he has somehow managed to twist it within her most cruelly.

"But it was given to you as such, Elsie-love- it is purely our coin." He says very quietly. "And it is solely our love that this little penny houses in my heart Elsie- that is how I see it, please believe me…" And he is pressing and turning the coin over nervously with his fingers as he looks with pleading and doleful wet eyes into her heartbreakingly beautiful red-rimmed ones.

She tumbles her next words out much faster, "But Charles, now it all feels ripped away from me and changed! Your six-pence was all shiny and new and just like us- never used by anyone else before- only ever for the two of us…But… but Charles, now I find that it is yet another…" and she slows as her jaw clenches and becomes set once again- in spite of all her best efforts- for she is still just so mightily enraged by all of this right now, and by the fact that he can still be so darned obtuse about this even though she knows he is trying so very hard to understand and reassure her. She takes a shuddering deep breath and forces her next words out tightly from between her gritted teeth "… but now I find that it is yet another thing that the Blessed Lady Mary has had at first with you!… And that she has managed to keep her greedy and downright ungrateful little hooks in you through it all over again!" Elsie's voice is getting uncontrollably louder again. "And she doesn't deserve it – she doesn't deserve you, Charles!" Elsie's fire is well and truly stoked again now and it is flashing forth from her darkened eyes- her brogue thick with tears to the point that it would be almost unintelligible to him if it weren't for the fact that he is so accustomed to her tones, "It was meant to be Just Mine, Charles! For that one day!- That is all I wanted!- before I could give it back to you- just one day!...because it is all that you asked for from me and it was really soh very little to ask of me. And I wanted that- to give you back your little penny- even though I can give you soh much more. But I wanted that one little thing -So much-,…so very, very much, Charles" she sobs out. "Because…because I do know that you deserve it- and if it makes you happy and I can give it… then that is what I want to give you..." and her tears are falling quite freely again now. "But now with that little minx in the mix," she spits out viciously, "it's value has all changed- can't you see that?! And …and I know it makes me sound petty and jealous, Charles- that I covet you so… but I cannot seem to help it – I wanted this to be the one thing that is shared by us alone, Charles…that the family cannot ever touch, or own above us- ever!… Just us… just… for us…" and she is sobbing quite freely again now.

Charles's heart is breaking for all of her pain and his hands seem to have lost all strength and sit uselessly in his lap. He hurts desperately for all of the things that Elsie has given up to be in service and all of the things she has given of herself to others over the years but has never really had anyone to give back to her in return. Tears pool in his morose dark eyes for his beautiful and giving wife who has never really asked for anything from anyone and has so often received even less. As he blinks his own tears away, Charles silently holds out his lonely hand to at least give Elsie another crisp clean handkerchief from his inside waistcoat pocket and she mops wildly at her face with it- annoyed again at herself for being such an overly-emotional gloic*.

Charles starts to stroke Elsie's forearm to try and comfort her, for he senses that she does not want him to hold her again just yet, what with her rage still spiking through her tears. He feels like he is drowning again with the magnitude of it all, and he really is not entirely sure that he is man enough to fix this at all. But he wants all that they have been together back once more, and he has to try- for there is no one else.

He starts quietly, his voice cracked with grief, "But Elsie-love, it is not theirs, or even my six-pence - it is ours. And…and if you will please believe me, I will show you how it always was ours – from the very first moment… but…but… and I know you don't want to hear this, Els… but I have to request that you might at least try to give Lady Mary some credit for having good intentions for someone other than herself for a change…. And…and try to see that I am not so obtuse as to not recognise the same faults in her that you see, or to realise that at least some of this rancour you feel about Lady Mary has built up over quite some years, and especially over the organising of our wedding." Elsie's eyes have struck into his again. She had no idea he was at all attuned to her chagrin over all of that, for she had seemed to be talking to a brick wall at times with him regarding her wishes for their special day. "Elsie, I want you to know that I am sorry for how I handled… or rather, didn't handle all of that."

"Really Charles?" she splutters out unsurely through her bloated tears.

"Yes, Love. Of course I am."

"But why did you never defend me at the time, Charles?" she cries out to him bitterly. "Why did you side with the family so easily and so often above any and all of my own wishes, even when I was telling you most clearly what I wanted for us?"

"Because I didn't know how to walk this new land between us Elsie… or between us and the family. And I know that it is silly, for it is not as if I have not seen enough weddings in the house, and the village for that matter- right from when His Lordship and Her Ladyship's married - through to all of the girls grown and married off… well, maybe not Lady Sybil and Mr Branson…and, well, of course, unfortunately, it didn't all come to fruition with that rascal Strallan and poor Lady Edith… but still… I knew in each case- that what the bride wants is what matters most for a wedding celebration. So,… I should have just … shut my mouth really… about what I thought was right and proper." He quirks a sheepish smile up at Elsie. She looks a little agog right now that he has at least recognised any of this. Finally.

And to Charles, Elsie just looks almost indescribably precious right now. He feels the lump rising in his throat again for all of her hurt- when he sees her this way -all tear stained and red-rimmed eyes- and all because of something he could have and should have done for her. And she just looks so terribly tiny and innocent all wrapped up in his huge white robe with her special white gown peeping through with all of its delicate little cornflowers.

But the fire is not gone. Thank God! He thinks – my strong Elsie is still all there for me. And she strikes flares for him again and he steadies himself this time- bracing himself for all that she needs to throw at him.

"But then you were silent when you shouldn't have been, Charles! When I had to stand before all and sundry and defend myself without you, Charles! You should have stood up for me in the face of Lady Mary railroading us… You… you would have if it was for any other function we have worked on together and we couldn't accommodate all of the blessed family's demands for whatever reason. You have always defended my work decisions, Charles- so why couldn't you stand by me on this?! I have never been so humiliated in front of others." And she seems to growl even lower "Having to explain myself like an errant housemaid - and at my age!- I ask you?!- and in my position in the household too! .. Huphh…" she sighs out loud and breathes in deeply a couple of times to try to calm herself a little, and then she slows, "I mean… I know her Ladyship meant well… but it was all just so public. I wish she had spoken to me on my own as she normally would, and then handled the rest of the family's excesses in the background afterwards… But still… it played out that way and that cannot be helped – But what matters, is that I needed you by my side right then, Charles… and you just weren't- not in the way I needed. I had that right by then- not just as your equal in the house, but most especially as your betrothed."

Charles sighs out resignedly, "You are right Elsie, you did have that right- you do have that right- and I should have defended you. You deserved all that from me … and I was a fool not to see it properly and act upon it all correctly at the time. … For, if there is one thing I have learnt from His Lordship over all these years indentured to him… it is that a man must always defend and support his wife first – in the face of all detractors… not that His Lordship has not faltered, and sadly, in the most tragic of ways at times… but he is just a man, Elsie... as am I … and he has tried and mostly done right by Her Ladyship. But either way, I should have learnt more from him Elsie-love… I know that now… and I know it hurt you and that I should have been standing up for your wishes, and I should have never let them put you into that uncomfortable position. It dishonoured you …and I can only ask that you forgive me, Elsie, for being a terribly foolish old bachelor who has never had to do any of this sort of thing ever before." She squeezes his hand with her own to tell him: We will be all right. Charles looks shame-facedly down at their joined hands. "I…I guess I just didn't know how to keep the people I have always worked to keep happy… happy… and you happy as well- all at the same time. Which is silly, really, for it was all so very simple in the end- as our day proved… for they were all so happy for us no matter where we got married weren't they, Els?"

"Well,...I guess there is no denying that fact, Charles…" she replies quietly- her ire having completely run out of steam for the moment and so she softens substantially for him as he looks up into her eyes again- worry still etched upon his face. "And I will never mind their little bit of railroading us into our changed honeymoon, Charles- for who could not appreciate this for a space to holiday in, hmm?…" and she manages to quirk a small smile at the corners of her mouth at this. She moves to pick up her cup to finish the last of her tea and some biscuits, for she is still incredibly parched, and although she does not feel that she can easily swallow any food, she knows that the sugar will do her sore head some good in the long run. It is already making her feel at least a little more human. She releases a long sigh. "Plus, in this case, I sense that maybe it is their attempt to make amends with us for their somewhat pushy behaviour… as pushy as all of this here could seem, anyway- when you think too much on it." And they both huff out small laugh at this particular home truth.

"Nevertheless, Elsie, it still stands- that I did know better, and I did not do my best for you… and I am truly sorry, Elsie, I am….Will you please forgive this silly old man who loves you dearly and hates to see you hurt by his hand…. Please?" he asks plaintively.

"Och, Charles…" Her eyes are glistening again. "My man… Of course you are forgiven, now that I know that you understand me and know to do better now. And how could I not forgive you? I no more want to see you hurt than I want to be hurt myself… and…and so,…I think I am ready to hear what you have to say about our penny" and she looks down at her bare feet ashamedly, "…and…and I am sorry I said that I wished you dead before, my love. That was quite uncalled for," she admits before she shakily raises herself from her chair and moves to go and sit on his lap. His arms open immediately to her and wrap her tightly into him again and he kisses her repeatedly and gently to the top of her head that is tucked safely under his chin as she listens to his anxious, pounding heart starting to calm as they work their way towards agreement again.

"Well, I'll admit that when I have thought on more than one occasion this weekend that you may well be the death of me, Elsie Hughes, that was not exactly the vision I had in mind." He joshes cautiously and with an aim to lighten the mood around them just a little- for the moment at least. He can feel Elsie's face lift a little in a small smile from where she rests it against his neck and he rubs her back soothingly. "Not to worry, Els… I rather think I may have handed you all of the ammunition in that little moment… and I will no doubt be fool enough to do it all again someday." Elsie's tired body shakes a little and she sighs out a small laugh for her man and all of their shared follies.

oOOo

After a while sitting quietly this way, Charles broaches the remains of their problems again.

"Elsie-love… I want you to know that I understand how Lady Mary rankles you sometimes… and I also need you to know that it is not true that I blinker myself to all of her faults. I may never speak poorly of her out loud, but I am not blind or immune to who she can be on her worst days. She has been cruel at times towards others- Lady Edith most especially… and sometimes to his Lordship – and definitely to her own mother!" He says with quite some disgust, "and The Dowager Countess too… although she never gets far butting heads on that front!... But, she is even sometimes mean to me. And, I can only hope that it may not be too often that Lady Mary directs her cruelty towards you, Elsie-love… But I do suspect there is not enough love there in the first place for there to have ever been much lost between the two of you, should that have been the case."

Elsie laughs knowingly at this "Noh, you would be correct in that assumption, Charles. But she has had little need to ever cross me personally in that way."

"But, Elsie, I have actually thought that maybe she is only cruellest, or at least freer with her flippant disregarding comments, when it is with those she loves the most- or at least those she is most secure in thinking will not ever completely forsake her- no matter what her mistakes may be. Which seems odd, really- to lash out unprovoked at those you love and who love you… And well, then she does have that especially fractious relationship with Lady Edith that I have never really understood. It makes no sense, because ... sisters are sisters for life, really, aren't they, Elsie? They will likely be stuck with each other for the most years when you think on it."

"Aye, I do know that much. And I cannot deny having had my own moments of catty behaviour against my own sister, Charles- and she towards me. But I would think that most girls would grow out of that childish behaviour in better time than the Crawley sisters have managed. I have never understood why Lady Mary and Lady Edith have not done so… Well, … I do think that Lady Edith has at least distanced herself from it all a bit better these days… and she does not rise to Lady Mary's bait quite so much anymore."

"And you don't even see the half of it, Els! Lady Mary does an inordinate amount of fishing for trouble with Lady Edith, and at the dinner table as it is. She seems to want the captive audience to see the mess all unfold as she flounces out before any of the dust can settle. And even after all of these years- I still don't really know what it is that she is aiming for in goading Lady Edith so. And I do wish Lady Mary would grow out of it too, Elsie. I really don't quite know why she cannot seem break these hurtful habits she has." Once more, Charles insights surprise Elsie. She really had no idea he saw any of these things this way. "All I know is that, when it has been against me… and it has hurt me, I'll not deny it… it has been when Lady Mary is at her most insecure with her life- like with the move to Haxby. She was almost like a scared and cornered little animal lashing out back then. … He scared her. That Carlisle scared her, I think…"

"Aye, he had a right mean streak in him, that one- and no mistake- and never clearer than when he broke the Pamuk scandal all across the nation.

"Hmmm.. he is a vile man…But, anyway, Lady Mary- she was never one to lie down and play dead in any games, not little Miss Mary." And a loving smile climbs his face at his memories of her in her sparky youth fills Charles' mind briefly.

"Aye- I have seen that in her too, Charles. But, I guess, for me, I just resent that she cannot treat her one constant champion, outside of her own parents that is, with the respect that you deserve Charles. I find I cannot love her for treating you thus."

"I know, Els. And you do not have to love her. But I am glad that you at least respect my love for her. For I am afraid that I cannot stop that feeling for her. But, I certainly do not want you to ever feel that it would come between us, Elsie-love- or the sanctity of what we have – especially now as man and wife... And you have seen that I will put other concerns ahead of hers. Because, sadly, I have had to forsake her in her hour of need in order to protect myself. And I have left her to sort out her own problems without me there to support her – as when I refused to go with her to Haxby.

"You would have been miserable there, Charles."

"I know that, Elsie- but don't you see?" He lifts Elsie's head gently in his hand and looks deep into her eyes, with his other arm still encircling her waist - even as that hand keeps toying with a small note on fine parchment sporting the script of an elegant and strongly feminine hand over Elsie lap "…That it all proves that I can and will continue to forsake all others for you- just as I promised you two days ago. And so, I want for you to read this letter Lady Mary wrote to me before our marriage, Elsie. The one where she gave me our penny for you to carry. For I think it might at least show you that she is asking for forgiveness for her behaviour about our wedding reception… which I know you will not find it written in those exact words in the note, but given what I know of how Lady Mary is, I hope you will agree that she has as good as asked for forgiveness… But mainly Elsie, I would hope you see it as I do now… and especially now that we are both ready to retire… that Lady Mary is a bit more ready to grow up now- and to wave goodbye to me a little as her sort-of-father … and protector… which, I do hope that I have somehow been an extra father to her, in my own small way over all these years- and in a way that even His Lordship seems to approve of and want."

"Probably because Lady Mary was always more than he could handle alone, I would wager!" as she huffs out a small sound of humoured disbelief at the hard-to-handle young woman. "But I do know that you have been that for her, Love. I do accept that part of you, really- but just not the stranglehold Lady Mary tries to use on you sometimes, that's all."

"I think I understand that. …But Elsie, I think this letter is actually Lady Mary accepting the changes ahead… and accepting that she cannot have that, or try that with me anymore- that everything is changing for her and she must work with it- as much as we both have to, Els- for these changes cannot be stopped- you taught me that,... and really,… I think that this letter- it is Lady Mary recognising that I was actually never formally indentured to her at all…but to her father and his father before that. I was His Lordship's man… and… and… so, just as his Lordship understands how he must put Lady Cora before all others in the room… within his acceptance and support of our marriage, Elsie, he has, in fact, released me from that life-long commitment I gave to him and his family.… That is how I see it now… That is how I believe he sees it- for His Lordship was always willing to release me if I so asked it- even to go to Haxby….and … and it might seem silly for a man of my age to feel he must have some sort of permission from another man in order to marry the woman he loves more than any other… but… I guess I have lived my entire life in service, Elsie- beholden to others… and I …I needed that confirmation in some way… someone who could make it clear, perhaps not in so many words, but make it clear that I am a free man enough to make this choice… to live this life with you at my side…and ..to just go this other way with you…really...and so I am now. I am." And he holds her eye unwaveringly once more, "But Elsie, I cannot really think of myself in terms outside of what I have lived by for my whole life … so just know this- most truly- that a man cannot serve two masters, and so I am only indentured to you now, Elspeth Mae Hughes- that is the truth I live by now. I am your man now."

Elsie presses her forehead heavily into his. My precious man. He really does give all that he has to give. And tears of pure love now fall from her eyes onto his cheeks. "You are at that," she snuffles out thickly, "You are my man…and a very fine and good one you are too. And I only hope that I can still prove woman enough to take you on…and to deserve you."

"I have never doubted that you are, or that you do, Elsie-love."

"Thank you for that." And she smooths her hand across his cheek, softening into him even further. "But really Charles… I will never be able to see you as my servant, for beside anything else, we all serve God as our only true master- do we not? And so you can, and will, only ever be this to me, Charles Carson, - You are my equal…and my partner. And you will just have to learn to live with that new idea if we are to ever be in agreement again!" And she places a messy little kiss on the tip of his nose with her bright red and tear swelled lips. And Charles has never been so grateful for such a small gesture in all of his life. My Elsie is really coming back to me, he thinks gleefully, and I am a free man and a far better man when we are side by side. And his eyes shine brightly with relief and love for her.

"Well, then that can be my life's work from now on, Elsie- for I shall need a proper occupation in my retirement." He joshes lightly again as she finally smiles into his face and starts to smooth his unruly hair back from his forehead. "But Elsie,…with our penny, I… I know it hurts you that it came to me via Lady Mary's hands… but I think it is because Lady Mary has come to that very same realisation about me now with regards to you. …So,…will you read this now, Elsie, …please?... or I could read it out to you. For, I think now that I almost carried it on our wedding day because, well, it was a kind gesture of hers and I appreciated it on that level and I do care still care for Lady Mary's good opinion of me… but really, it was because, in a way- this is like my release papers from my indenture to the whole family, Elsie… and certainly, it is the release of any notion that I was ever indentured to Lady Mary specifically. And… given how all of this hurts you, Elsie… I can only hope that you will see it the same way that I do now… and that we can heal this thing that has come between us… because I do not want to lose you over all of this Elsie-love- I want our sweet memories back to share with you… and I just want you." Tears prickle in his eyes for her and his voice is thick, "and I am still more sure of this than anything ever before in my life, Elsie- that I want you." And he leans his head heavily into hers again- just to breathe her in.

And with his explanation finally over- he places Lady Mary's letter fully into Elsie's hands. Elsie has listened carefully to all that Charles has said and has watched, slightly mesmerised, as he has slowly flipped the letter and the sixpence over and over in his great hand resting in her lap. Elsie has listened to him carefully, because she really does want to hear him - just as she promised him- and because she really does want what he wants too, and to do that, they really do have to be in agreement over these big things that truly matter to them. The perceived dangers of electric toasters and a Labour government are very small beer indeed when compared to the fate and value of their single silver six-pence that they try to hold onto between them. And Charles is at least now feeling secure enough to know that a quiet and intent and listening Elsie will not tear the whole letter up in his face.

She reads.

oOOo

Thursday 27th May, 1926

Dearest Carson,

Having been raised to understand that to speak openly of financial matters is at the very height of vulgarity, I shall say only this- that were I to now repay you with full interest for the six-pence you lent to me over thirty years ago, the amount due to you would, sadly, still only equate to an embarrassingly paltry figure.

Instead, I ask only that you take the enclosed newly minted six-pence as a gift of luck to give to your own noble lady for her to carry into the village on the occasion of your wedding. I must ask that you both now accept this penny as the final and proper payment due to you for all of my former childhood and childish debts.

Additionally, I would ask that both you and Mrs Hughes accept this as symbol of the very deep gratitude that I feel for the unwavering dedication and quality of the services you have both rendered, not only to me but to the entire Crawley family, over so very many years.

Know that any interest attached to debts incurred by me, from either of you, is in the form of this small token being imbued with an equal measure of every kindness, every prayer, and every wish and hope for continued happiness and good fortune that you have ever seen fit to bestow upon me.

Yours, as ever, with the highest of esteem,

Lady Mary Crawley.

oOOo

Elsie silently reads the note through twice. Indeed, there is much that is not said openly, but that is to be expected really. The fact that Lady Mary admitted to some childish debts along with the childhood debt of a sixpence is quite and admission for one so haughty. And Elsie can appreciate the difficulty of recording such a thing in black and white and forevermore for someone of Lady Mary's station- and to a servant no less. But Charles has always been so much more than a servant to the Crawley family, really. And indeed, Elsie does not think that she would necessarily be able to admit to the same sort of thing in such a permanent form should the need ever arise for her. Perhaps I really am as stubborn and proud as the Blessed Lady Mary is! Elsie realises with a flash. She breathes out a long relieving breath and sees that Charles has been equally shallow of breathing since she started reading.

"Well…?" he asks with that nervous school boy way he sometimes has with Elsie.

"Well. … Lady Mary writes an elegant prose. …Perhaps your services were called upon to teach her the finer points of letter-writing too, Charles. I did not know that to be the standard jurisdiction of a Butler in a grand house." she finishes, trying to inject a little more levity into their conversation once more.

Charles appreciates the compliment wrapped up in a gentle ribbing from his Elsie for what it actually is- a peace offering. And so he decides to answer her seriously. Besides, he does not think Elsie is quite ready to parry with him again just yet. Their connection is still too fragile right now.

"No, Elsie, maybe a little hand scripting in the back pages of my ledgers when she was a lass, but I think her skills in letter-writing may be better attributed to Her Ladyship… But do you see now- that it was written for both of us, Elsie? The whole thing talks about us, Love- and the sixpence she chose was not given just to me- but for me to hand onto to you and it is for our marriage. It is a gift- pure and simple- with no expectation put upon me or you to owe her or give her anything in return. Please tell me you see that, Elsie. I want for us to share our lucky penny again together- just us." And he looks at her so hopefully through his worried dark eyes.

Elsie remains silent for what seems an interminable amount of time to Charles, but finally she answers, "Yes, Charles, I do see it" whispering low into his neck, now feeling desperately ashamed for her recent rabid fit of pique about Lady Mary, but more so for her temporary mistrust of Charles and his clarity of intentions with their penny. She nuzzles deep into his chest at the gap where his top buttons are undone and she cannot help a few more tears dropping hotly onto his skin. She blinks rapidly to clear them. Enough water has been spilled for all of this now, Elsie Hughes. Your heart is far from broken. Dry your eyes and face up to this all now, lass.

Elsie reaches to Charles' hand that is still resting near her waist as she perches on his lap, and she runs her finger tip over the edge of their six-pence that he has been rubbing between his fingers all this time- as if wishing it would magically make some sort of genii appear to grant them their greatest desire- which is really just for peace and agreement to exist between them again. But these intermediaries do not exist- certainly not in a marriage- so only they can help themselves to fix this whole crazy mess up. She stops him rolling the penny about in his fingers and opens up his palm to set it to rest safely within that broad and steady expanse as she continues tracing around its edge, re-acquainting herself with its every nuance, as they start making clearer heads and tails of one another again. Charles sighs out with a shuddering and heavy breath of utter relief to see her starting to accept the symbol of them as a couple once more, and more importantly to him- the embodiment of his promise to her before God, and his pure faith in her as his wife.

He speaks low to her about how he sees this gift.

"Elsie, this may have been given to me, but Lady Mary was only showing me something that was always mine alone to begin with- and mine to share fully with whomsoever I should choose. And I choose you Elsie-love to share this with. I chose you then and I would you choose you over and above all others, again and again. I could never have married anyone else, for I could never hope to have this love I have for you with any other person in the world, Elsie- only you- I told you that when I asked for your hand…finally!" And she snuffs a little laugh out at this too. "… But Elsie, I never expected anything from Lady Mary at all, ever. This gesture is the sweet unprompted thanks from a daughter or a friend- and the moment it came into my possession- the moment I realised that what it truly represents was always in my possession anyway- the coin was then purely and completely for us alone, Elsie- as much as the dress from her Ladyship, or even my mother's gold ring. They are gifts with no expectations attached to them by the givers- and those objects do not embody their givers within them, nor do those people, or our memories of those people, colour those gifts for us. Nor can they colour how we may share them with each other in our private time together. This coin is the same. All of those people- they all of them…disappear. And that leaves only us and our very own tokens of love. And…and with this coin especially, like my mother's ring- it was actually re-forged by us– by our promise to each other before God, and by what we share- no one else. And so, it is shaped anew – all of the time, Elsie- into exactly what we want and need it to be for as long as we both hold onto it. I have never seen it any other way, Elsie-love- from the moment it dropped out into my hand from Lady Mary's letter- for she left it to me to read privately, you know- and then… I just knew I had to write you that letter on our wedding eve, to give you it and those other gifts freely and unreservedly in that way. And I never expected you to hand this penny back to me if you did not want to, Els. I am just so incredibly glad that you did, though. But really Els, Lady Mary's letter just gave me the prompt and the final push I needed to try to tell you all that you mean to me. And in that, really, Lady Mary has given me much more than even she could ever realise. And so, I cannot be anything but grateful to her- for it has all brought me closer to you, a chagair… So, … so do you believe me now about our six-pence?"

Elsie sits and breathes through all her thoughts for a while. Her headache is now a dull throb, but it is subsiding. Still, everything seems to be trudging heavily through her brain and heart at the moment- looking for a break in the weather and a clear path home to him again. And, of course, in Charles- built of his words, she does find it again, and so then she is ready. "I do," she states as simply and as clearly and as surely as she did two days ago in church to her man, as she looks him unflinchingly in the eyes once more. And as she caresses his cheek, much more quietly, she tells him "I am sorry I ever doubted you, Charles, when I have always known you would never take on any task in this life half-heartedly, and when I have always known you to be a man of integrity and honour. I don't know why I lost sight of all that so quickly just then… it…it shames me."

"I do not see you with any shame about you, Elsie-love. I only see a beautiful proud woman who mistook for a little while that what she so richly deserves could somehow have been taken away from her by others. And Elsie, …I believe that is what that declaration Reverend Travis made at the end of our ceremony means- it is not a warning to others, but a simple statement of fact- "What God hath joined, let no man put asunder." Elsie, no one person can ever touch what we have. It cannot be taken away, even if they tried. It cannot. Not this. For no one has any power or jurisdiction over me to take the love I have for you away, Elsie-love. No one. And no one else will ever have a part of our special memories that we have made alone together, a chagair. That is the truth." And he dusts the smallest kiss across her lips. Elsie feels quite overwhelmed once more, but in the best of ways this time. He is so very beautiful and true- My man. And they just hold each other tightly and quietly for a while, until Elsie decides to place a warm and sure kiss upon his cheek.

Charles chuckles lightly at this.

"What is it, Charles?"

"Well in the interests of honesty, I had best tell you… It's just that… you happened to remind me just then of one other thing Lady Mary said when she dropped off that letter to me."

"Am I going to want to hear this?"

"Oh yes, I think so.' He smiles reassuringly at her, "You see, she asked me if she might kiss my cheek, like she once did as a child- and I thought it odd that she would suggest it at all… for I had not read her letter at that stage, you see, and so I could make no connection to that day I convinced her not to sell his Lordship's silver." And he smiles again at that old, sweet memory "And anyway, she just said that it was because she felt it may not be seen as the appropriate thing for her to do on the actual wedding day…and that the future Mrs Carson would probably not appreciate it either."

"Well, perhaps she understands me far better than I have credited her with!" Elsie manages to reply light-heartedly- for she recognises the innocent intent behind Charles telling her any of this at all now, and really, she can now at least acknowledge the deep respect that Lady Mary must actually have for Charles, and for her too, on some level. "And so did she kiss you, Charles?"

"She did."

"Well then, I would still maintain that she got the better bargain out of you, Mr Carson." And Elsie smiles slightly at this, for she really does mean this without a hint of malice for the young Lady anymore, for she does know now what being able to kiss Charles Carson is truly worth.

"Oh, I still don't know about that Mrs Hughes," he says to her with a similarly dreamy smile on his face to the last time he told Elsie the story of young Lady Mary and a six-pence, only this time he knows it is for a far different reason. "For you see, she said something to me as she left my pantry, Elsie, that made it all seem like a big goodbye from her, but it was not a sad goodbye, mind you, and especially not once I read her letter."

"Oh?"

"Yes, you see, she said this to me: 'Carson, I have learnt some hard lessons over these years under your watch, but the surest one I know, especially after this last year I have had, is that one must only ever give their kisses to those who are truly deserving of one's love. And I think I learnt that from Mister Matthew, really,… and I had just forgotten it. …So, ...just…be sure that your wife never forgets that, Carson." And then Charles kisses Elsie ever so tenderly on her cheek, and then softly on her lips and then he speaks against them, "And if that is the last task I am ever set to undertake in this life, Mrs Elspeth Mae Carson, it will surely be the sweetest- for that is exactly what I intend to do- to make sure that you never, ever forget." And he kisses her hard and pours all of his love that his beautiful wife so richly deserves into it.

After they breathlessly break apart. Elsie manages to pant out against his lips, "Well, it now seems sure that I am actually the one that got the better bargain after all," and her broad smile has returned and she places more kisses on him with every renewed and fresh breath she takes for him, "My lovely Mr Carson …Charles…my husband…and my man."

CECECECECE

And now that all is understood and all has been forgiven, and now that their hearts and minds are aligned and in agreement once more, Charles quietly suggests that they take a lie down to rest again. For Elsie still looks somewhat brittle and weary, and all of this turmoil after their lovemaking has weakened Charles slightly, too. Elsie nods in agreement and lets him guide her off his lap and onto her own chair momentarily as he quickly sets all of their empty dishes on the trolley again and wheels it out to the floor lobby to be collected by the maid. On the way back to her side, Charles briskly straightens and re-tucks the white sheets of their bed. They are not perfectly crisp anymore, not by a long shot, but they will do. Elsie would want them straightened. Charles then returns for his wife and picks her up easily from the armchair, leaving the oversized robe behind.

"You don't have to do this Charles, I'm not a wee bairn- I can walk."

"I know, Love, but I want to." And he cradles her closely, all the way back to their bed, then places her ever so gently upon the smooth white sheets. Her new pale gown melds with its tones so that as he gazes upon Elsie briefly before undressing fully again to take his place beside her, she appears only as small patches of light pink petals – her soft skin floating in a sea of midsummer white clouds—her delicate feet, her supple hands, her neck and her divinely expressive face with full red lips and her still swollen, but freshly brightened blue eyes shining above it all and with a single garland of the bluest cornflowers gracing her neck- she is just so different for him again- so delicate and fine- tragically beautiful. And oh so pure.

Naked once more, Charles lowers his great frame beside her as carefully as he can and faces her fully on their sides with their hands tucked up between their chests. He takes their precious penny and runs its edge back and forth over the side of her index finger and thumb until she slowly unfurls her hand fully to him again. He gently places the coin back into her open palm and heart and curls her fingers around it to secure it next to her gold wedding band and then he locks his great hand over the top of hers.

He whispers with heavy conviction across her face. "I will carry and keep this safe for us all the days of my life, Elsie-love. Just hold onto it for me now, though. Keep it safe for us and re-forge it for us as we find your joy again. Let me help you soar again- away from these dark clouds," he whispers across her tear-stained cheeks, and presses soothing kisses to her swollen eyelids. Beautiful and precious. My wife. "Let me see you as you truly are, a chagair - surrounded by the purest white… My bride. My one. My love. Let me help you find your joy."

My beautiful poet-lover. My man.

She sighs out her relief that they have somehow made it back from this horrid abyss of misunderstanding and pain.

And with that knowledge in their hearts, Charles once more starts to delicately explore Elsie's body with his tender fingers, over and beneath her pure white gown- tracing lines of love upon her still fragile skin, strengthening her with his love, fixing them both together again with his healing touch and his feather-light kisses and his words brushing elegantly over her soul, and weaving their love tighter and stronger than it ever was before to make a new picture of them both together.

He kisses the tips of her toes and along her delicate dancer's arches to the tops of her feet and over her sensitive ankles, and then all the way up her strong lithe legs that currently lie heavy and torpid beneath the remains of her exhausted grief- but open to him- trusting him again. And it is everything. Everything. He takes it all as the faithful welcome and the gift that it is as he murmurs 'I love you' repeatedly between his soft kisses as he moves slowly up her legs and comes home to her centre once more – to bring her pleasure from his very presence in her life, and to taste once more her bliss upon his lips.

Very slowly and gently, he kisses and laps at her, for there is no rush- not today. Today, there is world enough and time for both of them and for all that they need and want of one another, and for all that they have to share. He nuzzles deeply into her and inhales all of her fragrant, luxuriant beauty. He imagines that if ever he were to kiss the gates of heaven it would be just like this- this utter bliss, as he feels her rise beneath the softness of his lips and tongue and she lets him drink the nectar of her splendid soul so gently and so slowly. In their shared euphoria, his soul sings once more for the closeness of her- for the gift of herself that she freely shares with him and he sings in joy once more. He is humming lightly, but increasingly hungrily over her tiny and sensitive and perfect bud of life as his tongue moves to caress the delicate petals of her fully flushed womanliness as he moves to draw each clear and new breath for her. Her vibrating joy is building and he tastes more and more of it upon his tongue. He pools her sweet nectar under his tongue in a moment of pure communion before he drinks her very essence into his soul. And her legs are finding their strength once more, and her hips are dancing so very beautifully within his hands again. She is coming back to them. Strong and soft and sure, his Elsie-love is returning – in full and glorious flight- he can feel her starting to soar and she is just so, so beautiful- so free- as she shimmers to her peak across his lips and tongue.

God, how I love this moment!

I love her, God- I love her so much.

Thank you for this beautiful life you have placed into my hands.

Make me worthy of it.

Charles gently guides his Elsie back to them and then moves up to see her blissful and relaxed face and to feel the breath of her life rising and falling rhythmically past her lips. So very beautiful. Calm has returned- his gliding Elsie has returned for them! His heart is full and his eyes glisten for her joy. The poetry has returned as he cups and holds firmly to the still gleaming and quivering delight within her core- prolonging her pleasure for her as he rises up to share her joy with her again. He clasps his other large hand once more around her own small hand that has not let go of their six-pence – not for a single second.

"Take it, Elsie. Take this joy again." And he kisses her softly and deeply between every word that he feels forming and rising from his very soul for her. He breathes their truth into her mouth- the poetry that only she can inspire in him, and that only she will ever hear- whether he speaks it aloud or remains silent. He whispers most secretly to her now. "Taste it, Elsie. Taste your joy as I do, pretty Elspeth. Take your strength. Take our friendship and your grace and all of my admiration- take your beauty as I place it on the pink petals of your rosy lips. Take this sweet nectar from my lips. Drink it in- for it is you and it is us. Elsie-love… Drink from me and feel our joy. Taste the love upon my lips- my fascination for your womanliness- your true beauty- pure and lovely like the petals of a white carnation. Hold onto your passionate love from the petals of the reddest, deep burgundy rose of you- all of your precious and unconscious beauty." His words and the pressure of his open palm upon her and his broad, steady fingers so delicately caressing her most intimate and soft, dew-dropped petals sees her rising gently again and she mewls out her pleasure for them once more. So perfect. "Taste it, pretty Elspeth. Taste it all again." He whispers in sultry tones as he licks and nips lightly at her grief and love swollen lips and his voice mesmerises her once more. "Taste the exotic wonder of that unfurling rouge foncé orchid of your most intimate places. Rouge foncé." He draws out the French vowels for her in his rich deep voice and she shivers all over for him. So sensuous. "And know, lovely Elsie, that only I will ever know of this treasured hiding place and all of its delicate secrets. A chagair, know that I will always protect and honour this private space we share together. Feel the bliss that I have drawn from those secret and delightful enfolded places- taking it all onto my own tongue. Drink it, lovely Elsie. Drink the sweet ambrosia of all of our combined bliss. It is golden orange honeysuckle in the warmth of the sun, a chagair- the secret, deepest bonds of our love… it is our most devoted affection. My Love" he continues kissing her passionately and slowly to her open and gasping lips "My love…it is full and lush and flowering just for us- and it shines just as truly and as brightly as your eyes and as the fullest field of the bluest most delicate cornflowers on full display in the summertime- all of that unfading love that we return to one another- my love—my sweetest love—taaaste usss." He breathes out long and steamily into her mouth. And Elsie is now moaning and sighing constantly into his own mouth, the high and pleasant melody of her desire is the music to his lyrical song of love. "Taste us once again upon the very tip of your tongue, a chagair. Take our forgiveness and find our love again, and take your joy from my lips- like the purest yellow rose- mingled forever with my own happiness. My Love- Evermooore." This word whispered long and low into her mouth and soul sees Elsie to her languid shaking peak once more and she sighs out long and high and so completely into his mouth- "Yessss…" It is as if she is breathing the mingled soul of them out before him- placing it in his safe-keeping while she sleeps- for his final words see her settle peacefully into his arms once more to seek her now happy and safe and exhausted rest. "Never forget this truth, pretty Elspeth. Never. A chagair, I am here with you, my lover, and you are here with me and we are- we are all of this love - together alone…My sweet."

"Charles" she still reaches for him in the whisper of her dreams.

He kisses her tenderly upon her now unfurrowed brow and keeps his hand locked above her tiny fist that keeps their precious six-pence safe.

Serene.

Still.

He holds her.

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I hope I got Elsie right in this one. She is a tricky one to write. I would really appreciate any reviews you can spare the time for as I would like to know how the angst worked/ did not work – whatever the case may be- and if the resolution rings true.

Many thanks,

BorneToFlow : )

AUTHOR NOTES:

As before, I have recognised an influence well after the writing if this. This time it is the poetry of the late, great Leonard Cohen- Take this Longing. It is from the 1974 album New Skin For The Old Ceremony. (Fitting hey?- serendipity strikes again!)

Here is a video link that someone put some lovely images to: watch?v=Y2cafzCEokk

Many men have loved the bells
you fastened to the rein,
and everyone who wanted you
they found what they will always want again.
Your beauty lost to you yourself
just as it was lost to them.
Oh take this longing from my tongue,
whatever useless things these hands have done.
Let me see your beauty broken down
like you would do for one you love.

Your body like a searchlight
my poverty revealed,
I would like to try your charity
until you cry, "Now you must try my greed."
And everything depends upon
how near you sleep to me

Just take this longing from my tongue
all the lonely things my hands have done.
Let me see your beauty broken down
like you would do for one your love.

Hungry as an archway
through which the troops have passed,
I stand in ruins behind you,
with your winter clothes, your broken sandal straps.
I love to see you naked over there
especially from the back.

Oh take this longing from my tongue,
all the useless things my hands have done,
untie for me your hired blue gown,
like you would do for one that you love.

You're faithful to the better man,
I'm afraid that he left.
So let me judge your love affair
in this very room where I have sentenced
mine to death.
I'll even wear these old laurel leaves
that he's shaken from his head.

Just take this longing from my tongue,
all the useless things my hands have done,
let me see your beauty broken down,
like you would do for one you love.

Like you would do for one you love"

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Somewhat archaic terminology used:

*fillip (v.)

mid-15c., philippen "to flip something with the fingers, snap the fingers," possibly of imitative origin. As a noun, from 1520s, fyllippe.

. ?allowed_in_frame=0&search=fillip

**gloic- Scottish Gaelic for idiot

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~ Thanks must go, once more, to Edward Carson. This time for the turn of phrase- 'glistening menace', which was used differently and more expansively by EC in a letter to me, but I liked the poetry of it and stole it for our Elsie in the depths of her pain. I hope you do not mind EC- when you do eventually read this! : )

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The language of flowers-

I have felt that Charles and Elsie would have been well versed in the symbolic meanings of flowers- both having seen to the various floral arrangement in the house over the years and both having lived in the Victorian era when such things were really popular due to Old Queen Vic's interest in it. I have drawn the meanings of these different flowers in this chapter from a couple of original books – available in full PDF- as follows:

*Floral Poetry and the Language of Flowers -1877. /stream/cu31924068941578/cu31924068941578#page/n14/mode/

*Kate Greenaway's - Language of Flowers. 1846-1901

/details/languageofflower00gree

Meanings are not entirely consistent across these sources, nor did they really cover some of the exact sentiments I wanted for this chapter. Many books on floriography were released during Chelsie's lifetimes so I have played with the idea that the meanings could be different from those found in these two most famous books of flower meanings. As such for the sentiments I was covering in this and the last chapter, I used this website also: www. languageofflowers .com

I have it that yellow roses do not actually denote jealously for Charles and Elsie. Although, it is not entirely inappropriate given Elsie's initial reactions about Lady Mary commandeering Charles' life. I want it more for the other meanings I have found, though- forgiveness and joy and happiness.

I see the flowers as representing these following things for Charles and Elsie in this situation. Keep in mind that roses in a general sense always denote love- but surely we all know that! And I chose seven flowers because it is an uneven number… and well because- that is what works better artistically…, plus five flowers didn't cover all I needed to say for Chelsie whilst still keeping the four flowers I had already introduced with regards to them in this story (the cornflowers- Chapter 11; the white carnation – Chapters 14 and 19; and of course the deep red (rouge foncé) Cattleya orchid of mature feminine charms, and the yellow rose of happiness and joy of the last chapter- 31).

So, this is what I chose with the meanings I found across the aforementioned sources.

1.White carnation- pure love and woman's fascination. Good luck also.

2.Orange Honeysuckle – bonds of love- generous and devoted affection- and rather lovely to smell and taste too (it is edible)- hence the name honeysuckle in the first place

3. Red rose- passionate love/ Deep burgundy rose-unconscious beauty (I kind of wanted both these meanings, but not 8 flowers, so I made it a hybrid in my writing!)

4.Yellow rose- happiness and joy, and forgive and forget (can mean decreasing love, or jealousy- possibly appropriate for this chapter, but I prefer the other meaning for Chelsie methinks).

5.Pink rose- friendship, grace, admiration

6.Deep Red Cattleya Orchid – luxury, fragrance, mature charms. Feminine beauty. (all quite obvious when you look at orchids of course) google/Wikipedia Cattleya orchids for the history of when they were found and lost and found again and then cultivation in places like the UK began- kind of interesting and it gives a greater air of secrecy to the symbolism of orchids for our heroes here too, I think. Lady Slipper orchids are actually even more reminiscent of feminine 'charms'- especially some of the deep red- black ones, and it was my initial choice, but they are meant to denote 'capricious beauty' and so would be totally inappropriate for Elsie.

7.Blue Cornflowers- delicacy and bachelor's love- if it does not fade- his/her love is returned. Funny thing is, I chose this on a whim for the flowers on Elsie's nightgown way back in Chapter 11- and only now have sourced the meaning for it- and it all worked in quite well, in the end, I think.

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Thanks for reading and maybe even reviewing!

Regards,

BorneToFlow : )