A./N.: Here is a nice, long chapter with lots of Chelsie emotions. Next chapter will be going up tomorrow and I'm working on Surrogate Mother. Hope you enjoy this chapter and please leave a review.

Hearing and Accepting the Truth

Around lunch time Elsie had somewhat recovered from the turbulent events of the previous day. In the mornings she felt faint, dizzy and rather nauseous lately, but Mrs Crawley had assured her that this was absolutely normal for the first trimester of pregnancy. She also tired more easily. Her work wasn't all that demanding since she had had the same routine for years and the family was still very considerate about entertaining. Mrs Crawley often came to visit Elsie in her parlour. The two women had realised that they weren't all that different as their social station. Elsie confided in the other woman, finding it easier to talk about health matters with the formidable nurse than with Lady Grantham, and Mrs Crawley, having been married and being a mother, could provide far more insight in these new developments than Mrs Patmore.

Now she sat quietly in her parlour. She was slumped over in her chair, her elbows were on her table and her head lay in her hands. A slight throbbing behind her temples was driving her to distraction. She sighed as she tried to relax, but then she felt her corset biting into her flesh more than it used to. It was true that she had lost weight after the attack, but nowadays she had gained what she had lost again and then some. It was a strain in the mornings to put on her corset and she knew that soon she wouldn't be able to fit into it anymore. Mrs Crawley had even said that it was unhealthy for the child to wear a corset during pregnancy. She leaned further over the desk until she nearly lay flat on her chest, her arms now crossed and cushioning her head.

A knock on her door made her aware of a visitor, but before she could straighten up properly and call out to whoever stood on the other side the door opened and Charles walked into the room. Carefully he balanced a tray on one hand and the other was closing the door behind him. Then he saw Elsie and his eyes widened in shock.

"Elsie, what is wrong?" he asked concerned, hastily setting the tray down on the little table by the door and crossing the room in two strides. His hands gently grasped her shoulders and drew her upright again, anxiously peering into her eyes.

Elsie weakly waved her hand at him and shook her head. "I am tiring more easily, that is all," she muttered before looking over at the tray. "Is that tea? Just what I need at the moment …"

Charles raised a brow at her, but let her change the subject for now. He was happy to take care of her and be close to his beloved. Tenderly he wrapped his arms around her and helped her rise from the chair, then he moved to the settee and motioned for her to take a seat. He went back to the side table and fixed Elsie her tea exactly the way she liked it. Elsie was sitting somewhat vacantly on her settee and didn't notice Charles standing before her with the cup of tea in his hands. She seemed deep in thought until Charles carefully lifted her hand and placed the saucer and cup on it.

"Drink something and please talk to me," he pleaded quietly. "We are to be married and we are good friends, surely that justifies you confiding in me." He smiled reassuringly down at her and winked a little, causing Elsie to chuckle softly.

She soon became serious however and stared down into her cup for some moments. She finally took a deep breath and looked up to meet Charles' steady gaze. He had sat down across from her in the armchair with his own cup of tea in hands … Elsie noted the two biscuits on the rim of his saucer and smiled. Some things would never change. She knew his little quirks and he hers. She knew of his faults and shortcomings as well as he knew of hers. It was true they had been friends for all of these years and had learned almost all there was about each other. If there was one person she trusted completely, it was Charles Edward Carson … and that was part of the problem.

She trusted him far more than she trusted herself at the moment. She believed to know his feelings and his reasons for marrying her – all decent and honourable, but so very unsatisfying, because she felt so differently. Charles had said he loved her, but how could he? She was tarnished, soiled, undeserving of is love. No matter what he had said before she still had her mother's voice in the back of her mind. "Give yourself only to your husband. Be virtuous or you will be unworthy of any decent man who would make an honest woman of you." His kisses were sweet and gentle and oh so different than that man's had been, but she wasn't entirely sure what they really meant. Were they kisses of love? Or simple carnal desire? She was so confused and now Charles asked her to confide in him. Him of all people – the very reason for her confusion. How could she ask him this?

Charles could see the deep frown marring her forehead and the storm in her eyes. Something was truly upsetting his beautiful fiancée. He heard a deep sigh from her and couldn't take it anymore. "I thought you trusted me, Elsie," he said quietly, not able to look into her eyes and rather starring into his cup.

Elsie's head whipped up and her eyes widened. She did trust him – that was the only thing she was absolutely sure of. She couldn't let him doubt himself. Drawing a deep breath, she took the plunge, finding her old strength for him. "I-I was … wondering …" She stopped unsure of how to proceed. Her head bowed and her cheeks tinged a deep red as she finally stuttered out the question weighing her heart down. "What do you see when you look at me?"

For a long moment there was complete silence in her little parlour and Elsie began to fear she had made him angry and he wouldn't give her an answer. Then Charles cleared his throat and placed his cup on the armrest of his chair.

"I see you, Elsie," he said contemplatively. "I see a charming, intelligent woman with a lot of wit and occasional cheek. I see a very pretty woman …"

"I don't feel 'very pretty'," Elsie said, looking down and the blush in her cheek intensifying.

"But you are to me," Charles reassured, smiling tenderly at her and then getting up from his seat and coming to sit next to her on the settee, wrapping one arm lightly around her waist.

"How can I be?" she asked disbelievingly, getting up and away from Charles. "I-I'm …" She swallowed then threw her head up and looked into his eyes, defiantly. "I'm soiled, unworthy. In a few months I will be fat and unappealing, if I ever was that. How can you say you love me when …"

"Elsie Hughes, you stop right there!" For the first time Charles' voice sounded harsh while addressing her and Elsie backed away, her eyes wide in shock as she stared at him. She was speechless and, she had to admit, a bit afraid of Charles. "None of this matters to me. You are still the woman I love, the woman who had had my heart in her hands since she set foot into this house. Apparently, though, I can't make you believe that … no matter how hard I try. What happened to you has not altered my feelings for you one bit."

Elsie's gaze softened again and the tension left her shoulders. There was no need to ever be afraid of Charles and she knew it. "But if I had fought harder …" Before she could finish her objection, Charles interrupted her.

"You never wanted to be raped, Elsie. None of what happened was your fault. You are not responsible for the vile action this … this bastard took," he spat the insult, not bringing himself to voice the name of his former friend. "He beat you, Elsie." His hand came up and he dragged it through his impeccable hair, ruffling it. "God, he nearly k-kil-lled you,." His voice broke and tears filled his eyes. "He wanted revenge and he didn't care about anything else. He was stronger than you and had no inhibitions to use violence. You couldn't have fought him off," he said earnestly, boring his gaze into hers, willing her to believe him. A flicker in his eyes made him think that he had succeeded, but then she spoke.

"I'm not a fool, Charles. What has been done to me, can't be undone," she whispered, a broken note in her voice, while she turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.

"No, it can't, but it can be healed," she stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms tenderly around her middle, nuzzling her neck then turning her around in his arms and tilting her face so she had to look up into his eyes. "… if you'll let me."

Elsie exhaled slowly, her body going limp against Charles' sturdy frame. Her smaller hands came up to his neck and she interlaced her fingers at the back of his head, embracing him tenderly. Her eyes searched his, gazing into the very depths of his soul.

"It wasn't my fault. I am not to blame," she repeated and felt a rock slide down from her heart.

Charles smiled at her and nodded. He slowly bent his head down so his forehead met hers gently, touching slightly. He breathed in her scent and revelled in the feeling of her arms around his neck. He drew her tenderly closer and buried his face in her hair. For a wonderful moment he simply held her, but then his own doubts raised their ugly heads and he drew back a bit. He remembered clearly how devastated he had felt when Mrs Crawley had revealed the attacker's name to the police and him and how enraged he had been when they heard he had been arrested.

oOoOoOo

Lord Grantham and his butler Mr Carson sat in the Police station in Ripon, awaiting the arrival of Inspector Miller with a suspect for identification. Charles sat next to his employer with clenched fists and great trouble to restrain himself from pacing to and fro in his agitation. They all had agreed to spare Mrs Hughes this duty since Charles and His Lordship both knew the accused and could identify him. Mrs Hughes would only be called upon to identify the man when it came to a trial. Charles had carefully studied the given description of the attacker and had immediately recognized his old partner from the carnival in the bloodless facts. He didn't know what he would do if the man coming through these doors really was Charles Grigg. He knew what he wanted to do, though.

"No matter what comes, I have your back, old chap," Lord Grantham said quietly next to him. Charles turned around surprised and didn't know what to say to such an astonishing statement. "We all admire you and Mrs Hughes, Carson, and think of you as part of the family," the Earl stated matter-of-factly.

Charles felt a lump form in his throat and could only nod. Then the doors to the cell block opened and an officer came out followed by the suspect and another officer. As soon as Charles saw the man all rational thought flew out of his mind. He leapt up and growled deeply in his throat. Lord Grantham immediately realised that this must be the right man, if his butler reacted this hostile. He himself got up more slowly and in control, but he, too, seethed with suppressed anger. His hands curled into fists as he tried to hold on to his emotions.

His wife and mother were also present, but held themselves in the background. They could both see the barely contained rage in both men. Cora watched in shock and horror as Carson snarled at the prisoner and lunged for him. Robert was right behind the other man, his face contorted in a mask of rage and hatred. His eyes shot daggers and he nearly spat as he yelled, "You spineless bastard!" Cora had never heard her husband utter anything this crude and spiteful. She could sympathize wholeheartedly but still.

"She got what she deserved, that bitch," Grigg snarled back. "She moaned …"

He was cut off by Charles' hand around his throat. The butler's arms were strong from years of carrying heavy silver platters up and down endless stairs. His muscles rippled as he lifted the shorter man clear off his feet and hauled him into the wall, cutting of all oxygen and nearly knocking Grigg unconscious against the wall.

"You will never speak of her again," he roared before it took both officers and Lord Grantham to tear him off the other man.

oOoOoOo

"And what do you see when you look at me?" he asked hesitantly, his heart constricting in guilt over his connection with Grigg once more. If he hadn't been foolish in his youth and gone to the stage, none of this would have happened to this darling woman. "Do you see the man who failed you? Do you see the man who is responsible for your rape?"

Elsie stared at Charles for a long moment before she shook her head. "He hurt me, Charles. Not you. Never you," she said softly.

"But he hurt you because of me. Do you blame me?" he asked her hesitantly. Then he muttered under his breath, "Because I blame myself."

Elsie cupped his cheek and drew his gaze to her own eyes. "No, Charles, I don't blame you." She lowered her gaze and her cheeks paled, but she continued, "I felt so alone and vulnerable. And I hate …" She stopped to draw a deep breath.

"You hate me," Charles lowered his head resignedly and was about to drop his arms from her waist, but Elsie put one of her hands on his hand and put it back around her waist. Her cheeks warmed considerably at her own forwardness, but she couldn't bear not feeling his protective embrace, not now that she knew what it felt like.

"No, I hate that you had to see me like that," she confessed at last. "And I hate that my child isn't yours."

Charles peeked at her and saw the truth in her eyes. "I saw the coat … nothing more." He stuttered over his own words and his cheeks flushed red.

"Oh," Elsie's own cheeks flushed a deep red and she looked down onto Charles' broad chest. "I … that is … oh."

Charles chuckled and tightened his arms a little around her. "I couldn't love you more than I do at this moment, Elsie," he said softly. "The child you carry will be ours and I will raise it as my own, never doubt. All I wish for is that we give us a chance."

Elsie looked into his eyes. Her heart burst with love for this man and she smiled lovingly, hoping to convey all her emotions to him through her eyes. She soundlessly formed the words 'I love you', but couldn't quite bring herself to say them aloud. She snuggled into his chest and sighed contentedly and let Charles' even breath wash over her. He smiled down and felt all his doubts fall away. He had seen the words her lips had formed and it brought a soft smile to his lips. He loved this woman and was now secure in the knowledge that she loved him.