A./N.: A big and heartfelt 'thank you' to my wonderful beta and dear friend. She was the driving force behind this fast update. I'm on a role and already working on the next. Hope you enjoy it and please leave a review.

Coming to Terms With How You Feel

Elsie rushed past Lady Grantham, her vision blurred and the terrible truth resounding in her ears. "Mother of a fatherless bastard" – that was what people would say, it was what that man had reduced her to. Sobs were torn from her chest and tears rolled down her cheeks, even though she had thought that she hadn't any left to shed. Charles would surely reconsider his decision to marry her now that he fully understood what it would mean – for his reputation, his good name.

Stumbling through the narrow stairwell, her foot caught on the first step the next flight up and she fell forward, crying out in shock. Her knees painfully collided with the steps and her arms rose automatically to cushion her fall. Exhausted by all the emotions she had been forced to experience lately and defeated by what had been done to her, Elsie just lay there on the stairs. For a horrible, fleeting moment she contemplated the choice to fling herself off the stairs – then the whole damnable situation would resolve itself.

This thought was entertained for only a second. Her chest constricted with the force of her sobs while her arms wound themselves tightly around her middle, subconsciously protecting the child within. Her mind hadn't yet accepted the fact that she was pregnant by her rapist, but her body acted on its own, following an age-old instinct to protect her child.

oOoOoOo

That was how Charles found his Elsie only a few moments later. His heart sank and hit bottom seeing her lying on the stairs, obviously hurting, but too weak or resigned or both to move. Slowly, hoping he wouldn't scare her, and deliberately letting his feet fall more heavily, he approached her before hunkering down by her side.

"Oh my darling lass," he murmured tenderly. The only answer he received was a strangled sob. It broke his heart more than he had ever imagined anything could. Tenderly he stroked a strand of hair out of her face, which was flushed and tear-stained. "You'll make yourself sick. Come, let's sit down for a bit." He spoke quietly, tenderly as if she was a frightened child, but the look in his eyes was anything but fatherly. His eyes were filled with his deep love for her. Gently he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her up into a sitting position. He didn't stop then, but gently tugged her closer and sat her across his lap. Loosely he wrapped his arms around her waist and back, patting her gently on the back to calm her down further.

Gratefully her head fell against his shoulder and she inhaled his unique scent deeply, nearly losing herself in him. Her mind calmed immediately, the doubts being pushed back once more. No man who married her out of obligation or pity would hold her as tenderly as Charles was holding her now. No man who questioned his decision to bind himself to her would seek out closeness and intimacy the way Charles did. Despite being held this closely, she wasn't afraid. She sensed that she could trust him completely … had done so since coming to Downton all these years ago.

Long before she had started feeling love for him, he had become her friend. In service it was invaluable to have a real friend by your side, who you could trust not to scheme against you. Since becoming housekeeper and starting to work more closely together with Charles, she had been privileged to see a more relaxed and friendlier side to the strict and cold butler. Slowly she had fallen for him … even before she had realised it.

oOoOoOo

"How did that help?" Lady Mary Crawley asked her mother conversationally, while her youngest sister was glaring daggers at her and trying, unsuccessfully, to regulate her wildly beating heart back into some semblance of normal.

"You didn't just say that," Sybil exclaimed. When her mother remained silently, obviously at a loss for words, and instead just closed her eyes, Sybil added harshly, "How could you?"

Lady Edith, on the other hand, was more concerned about their housekeeper than explanations. "Shouldn't you follow her and apologize?" she asked tentatively.

Lady Grantham shook her head ruefully. She couldn't believe what she had said. It wasn't at all what she thought of her loyal, beloved housekeeper. "I was angry …" she tried to justify herself, but even to her own ears it sounded weak and she could clearly see Isobel rolling her eyes at her. That had her riled up again. "You! You just couldn't let it lie, could you? Why must you always interfere?" she asked hotly, pointing an accusatory finger at the older woman.

"Because I care," Isobel huffed. "Mrs Hughes is a dear, sweet woman who has sacrificed her chances of marriage to service, only to be forced into an arranged marriage now. It doesn't matter that she loves this man and would gladly marry him, Cora. What matters, is that her life has been turned upside down lately and she has lost all control, and now you take even that decision from her. Can't you understand how she feels?" Isobel's little speech was met with a wide-eyed stare from all Crawley women and the whole-hearted agreement of Mrs Patmore.

"Your Ladyship," she started more respectfully than Mrs Crawley and stepped forward, "if I may; Mrs Hughes seems to have lost her spark, her fight."

Gwen nodded vigorously. "She seems lost," she said quietly, a deep sadness in her eyes and voice. She remembered all too clearly the day she had broken the china and the expression in Mrs Hughes' eyes instead of the anticipated fiery temper of the Scots woman.

Now Lady Grantham felt even more wretched than before. She obviously hadn't considered the housekeeper's reaction to her decision. The butler's had been favourable and he had behaved most honourably, gently drawing Mrs Hughes out of herself and trying to make up for Mr Grigg's behaviour to the woman. It was true that Cora had considered the reaction of the village to Mrs Hughes' indisposition and how they could minimize the talk to allow her to remain in their service. She hadn't considered the woman's feelings, though. How could she repent for that?

"It wasn't meant like that," Lord Grantham stammered out. "We only thought that …"

"… that it would reduce talk," Isobel finished his sentence. "Yes, I know."

"Oh God, put like that, it sounds very selfish," Lady Grantham wailed. "I feel horrible … and I made things worse with my careless comment!"

Lady Sybil and Mrs Patmore exchanged a look and had the same thought; it was time to put Lord and Lady Grantham out of their misery and calm Mrs Crawley's ruffled feathers on behalf of her new friend.

"Lady Grantham, she loves Mr Carson and I believe that she wouldn't have agreed to your plan if she didn't," Mrs Patmore reassured. "She and Charles have become close over the years and are both in love with each other. Lately they have started a shy courtship. She trusts Mr Carson, and he worships the ground she walks on. You simply pushed them to move faster than they would have on their own accord."

oOoOoOo

After a while of sitting quietly beside each other, Charles felt Elsie's head grow more heavily against his shoulder. As he peeked down at her, he saw her eyes drooping and her breathing becoming deeper. She was obviously tired out by all the emotions of this day. His arms tightened gradually around her, as he relished her weight against him and the real trust that he wouldn't take advantage of her. He felt honoured by her trust and swore anew that he would never betray her, or make her doubt him.

He leaned down and nuzzled her hair, smiling at the faint sound of contentment coming from her and the way her head snuggled more closely into his shoulder. He chuckled softly as she heaved a sigh and relaxed fully against him. She was adorable in her sleepy state. He could easily imagine a little girl with her face and her sweet demeanour. The feeling of joyous anticipation surprised him as he contemplated his future role as a father. Again he leaned down and kissed lower this time, smoothing out the little frown on her forehead with his lips.

"You should have a lie down, Elsie," he broke their comfortable silence. Then he laughed quietly at her pouting.

"I don't want to let go," she whispered shyly, almost afraid of admitting it. Was it right for a woman? Was it proper to want this intimate embrace, this safety he offered so willingly? Her head bowed a little, but her arms tightened around his back.

Charles stroked her arm, but then shifted his other arm away from her waist and under her legs. Slowly, getting accustomed to her light weight, he stood. Elsie gave a small yelp, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Charles Carson, what are you up to?" she exclaimed.

"Well, you need to rest, but didn't want to let go. This seems as a solution to our problem. I'll carry you up the stairs and let you down at the door to the women's corridor. Shall I go down to the kitchen then and ask Mrs Patmore for a spot of tea and a sandwich for after your rest?"

Elsie's heart lifted and she smiled fully this time, not even trying to hide it from him. He was so thoughtful and kind. She really didn't know what she had done to deserve him. "That would be lovely, Charles, thank you," she murmured against his chest.

Charles felt like the luckiest man on earth, knowing that Elsie felt safe in his arms. He steadily climbed the stairs. He should have felt the strain since he wasn't as young as he used to be and his Elsie was a healthy woman … than he noticed that she was indeed lighter than she should be. A memory clicked into place; Mrs Patmore had told him that she had noticed Elsie didn't eat properly, picking at her food without any real appetite. That wasn't right. She had to keep up her strength since she had to eat for two now. Immediately he resolved to see to it that from now on her plates would be full and she would eat properly.

By now he had reached the door to the women's corridor. Gently he set her down by the door and raised his hand to stroke away the strands of hair that had come undone. He couldn't break free from the spell she had weaved around him … and he didn't want to. His hand cupped her cheek tenderly and his thumb moved against her lips on its own accord. He smiled down at her.

"Elsie, I would very much like to kiss you. Would that be acceptable for you?" he asked her formally, still acutely aware of his intimidating presence.

Elsie smiled shyly up at him, her cheeks blushing faintly, and nodded, not trusting her voice at all. She would very much like to kiss him, too, but didn't know how to ask him. Her stomach knotted in anticipation as she saw Charles lean closer to her until his forehead touched hers and his eyes closed in bliss. Her own eyes fluttered shut as well, and she felt her breath mingle with his before his lips touched hers. They felt soft and inviting, lying gently against hers. Then he tentatively moved them against her and Elsie felt her knees buckle under her weight. Her hands rose to hold on to his lapels, while Charles' hands found their way back to her hips. After a few blissful moments longer, Charles hesitantly extricated himself from her tempting embrace. He turned her and scooted her towards the door.

"Rest now, Elsie," he said softly. As she stepped through the door and just before she closed it, she could swear she heard him say, "Before I join you."

oOoOoOo

Elsie felt trapped. Trapped in her memories, the recollection of this one evening. Trapped in her own mind, worried for her future, the damage to Charles' good name, her impending marriage and what it would mean to her. Trapped in her body, which had betrayed her in her fight against Grigg, which she now shared with an unwanted child. And trapped in this room. She had spent more time in her little, claustrophobia-inducing room in the last few weeks than in the over 21 years of her employment at Downton Abbey.