A./N.: Tender chapter with lots of Chelsie in it … exclusively Chelsie. Next chapter already in work so hopefully you won't have to wait long. Just to let you know: so far I have only received votes for a baby girl. The message is clear and I will heed it. Hope you enjoy this chapter and please drop me a line. You are all fantastic readers and your opinion means the world to me.

A Glimpse of Normalcy

Charles was sat at his desk, long legs extended under the table and his head resting against the top of his swivel chair. He looked the very picture of repose and calm, but on the inside he was furiously devising plan after plan of how to woo his housekeeper. Mr McKenzie's words had fed a deep-seated wish in him to make Elsie fall in love with him as much as he already loved her. He also wondered when to give her the brooch, his wedding gift to her. Charles was so deep in contemplation that he didn't hear the soft knock on his door. Only when the woman of his thoughts stood in front of his desk, did he look up.

"Oh, Mrs … Elsie," he exclaimed excitedly, jumping up from his chair and rushing around his desk.

Elsie smiled tenderly at her lovely husband-to-be. She had surprised him … as she was wont to do. A heavy tray with tea pot, two cups and plates of Mrs Patmore's delicious custard tart was carefully balanced in her hands. She lifted it a little, more a tiny shrug of her shoulder blades. "I thought we could both do with a break," she suggested timidly. "And seeing that my parlour is still under siege …"

Charles chuckled good-naturedly, taking the tray from Elsie's hands and placing it gently down on his desk. He wanted to hug Elsie and kiss her cheek in gratitude for her kindness, but he was unsure if she would allow it. Leaning back against his desk, Charles hesitantly reached out for Elsie's hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. His beautiful fiancée surprised him, though, by simply stepping closer to him, wrapping her arms loosely around his middle and leaning her head on his chest. Her eyes closed, long lashes kissing the tops of her prominent cheek bones, while her breath evened out, her heart beating calmly. Charles stood stock-still for a long moment, silently drinking in the enormous trust Elsie expressed in him. It was true that he had noticed a few subtle changes in her behaviour since her sister's arrival, but her initiating physical contact was taking her completely by surprise. Slowly, in an attempt to not frighten her away again, his hands came up and gently landed on her hips, covertly drawing her closer into his embrace.

If you asked Elsie what had changed for her to trust Charles explicitly above everyone else, she wouldn't be able to answer; all she knew was that the urge to lean against Charles' broad chest had nearly robbed her of breath, letting her heart beat faster. On her way down from Her Ladyship's drawing room to his pantry, she had gradually picked up her speed until she was nearly running through the long corridors, probably earning herself quite a few stares from her maids. Her steps had faltered when she had reached the bottom of the servants' staircase. She had heard merry laughter coming from the kitchen, accompanied by the wonderful smell of Beryl's custard tart. A radiant smile had spread over her face, clearly picturing Charles' delight if she were to bring him a treat and a cup of tea. Before her attack it had been a bit of a tradition that she would come to his pantry during the lull before the gong was rung and bring him a bit of fortification for the dinner service. It was a step back to normalcy and stability.

Rubbing her cheek against the cotton of his shirt, Elsie inhaled deeply before raising her head and looking up into his brown eyes. "Let's sit down and have tea before it gets entirely cold," she mumbled, her hand bearing his engagement ring smoothing invisible wrinkles from his waist coat.

Before she could step back, Charles wrapped his arms around her waist and held her to him. With a certain spark gleaming in the depths of his eyes he bent his head and brushed his lips softly against hers. There was no pressure, only the tender caress of his lips over hers, his breath softly rushing over her cheek. All thoughts of tea and tart or the wretched gong left Elsie's mind as she rose up on tiptoes and pressed her lips eagerly against his, deepening their soft kiss. Both her hands grasped the labels of his waistcoat for balance, as she was fairly swept off her feet by Charles' strong arms around her waist and his overjoyed response to her shy and inexperienced kiss, warming both her heart and her blood.

Lady Grantham's carefully phrased inquiries about how she felt and the mere thought of talking with Glenna about the changes due to her pregnancy had made Elsie more aware of her own body. For the first time she had been acutely aware of all the little things like the pushing and rubbing of her corset against her breasts, the tight feeling around her stomach highlighting the swirls and flutters of her child moving inside her. Now the heat from Charles' arms around her waist seemed to burn through the many layers between them and she could feel every tiny movement he made rippling through the muscles so intimately pressed against her entire front. Without volition a small groan escaped her lips and was immediately swallowed by Charles' lips.

It was this tiny, unguarded sound from the woman in his arms, which brought Charles from the brink of sanity back to his conscious mind. Knowing about Elsie's lack of experience, Charles wasn't entirely sure if he wasn't taking advantage of her innocence, but he knew without any doubt that it was up to him to stop them. He would never want to compromise Elsie's hard-earned reputation or scare her away from her new-found trust in him by behaving like a randy youngster. Reluctantly he brought his hands up to her arms and gently pushed her back a little, creating a small gap between their bodies.

"This is a bit more sustenance than I'm used to, Elsie," he teased lightly, almost tickled pink by the embarrassed flush spreading over Elsie's cheeks at his words, before he reassured her quickly, "but it is much appreciated." Her cheeks flamed, but a very pleased smile played around her well-kissed lips. His thumbs lightly caressed her upper arms and he was hard pressed not to kiss her again and again and hang the dinner service.

Elsie's eyes lowered to Charles' chest once more; she wasn't quite sure what had come over her. She could feel an embarrassed flush covering her cheeks and her heart beating rather wildly in her chest. Charles' masculine presence had overwhelmed her in a way she had never experienced before … that wasn't true; he had often before robbed her of her breath with his authoritarian bearing and her commanding presence. She had always felt safe with him, cherished and respected. Now it only further reflected his love for her – and this was what drew her irrevocably closer to him.

"Let's have some tea," she said softly, absent-mindedly stroking his chest with her small hands, smoothing his crumbled clothes back into some resemblance of decorum, "before I besmirch your reputation entirely."

Her teasing lilt caressed his ears as her hands caressed his body. Charles threw back his head and laughed uproariously. "You've a wicked tongue, my dear," he rasped up between gales of laughter. His eyes darkened suddenly as his mind was flooded with images of Elsie's tongue and what she could do to him with it. His right hand smoothed down over her back until it landed almost naturally on her bottom, drawing her against him in a fluid motion.

Reluctantly Elsie swiped his hand from her body, no urgency or fear evident in her movements, and stepped back from him, rounding to the other side of the desk and beginning to prepare their tea. She knew exactly how he liked his tea, years of making it for him so she could force him to have a break had ensured that, and she also added a big piece of the tart. Before he could complain about her absence, he was handed both saucer and plate and Elsie pointed commandingly to the chair his visitors were usually offered. With a wry smile he sat down and observed how Elsie made herself at home in his comfortable leather swivel chair. She seemed diminutive in it, making Charles smile indulgently at her. Blowing on his tea, more out of habit than caution, Charles took a tentative sip, raising his eyebrow in surprise.

"Has it gone too terribly cold?" Elsie asked, sitting forward and looking for all intents and purposes as though she wanted to jump up to make him another pot.

Charles shook his head, waving for Elsie to relax and sit back. "No, as a matter of fact it is warmer than I thought," he reassured. After a while of companionable silence, Charles raised his gaze back to Elsie and asked, "Who exactly is keeping your parlour under siege?" Her earlier words had only just now registered with him.

Now it was Elsie's turn to laugh softly and hid her grin in her tea cup. "Glenna seems to have made a new friend in our formidable old battle- … I mean, cook."

Charles mock-scowled at his beaming fiancée. "I know precisely what you wanted to say, young lady, and let me just say that you're in trouble," he teased gently. "The old battle-axe will have your head when I tell her."

"Oh you wouldn't," Elsie said with a smug self-assurance that had Charles yet again quirking his eyebrow at her.

"And you're so sure of that because …?" he asked lowly, trying to puzzle out what Elsie had meant.

With deliberate movements Elsie put her cup back on Charles' tidy desk and rose slowly from his chair, coming over to him before leaning in close. Her mouth was next to his ear and she made doubly sure that her breath was softly floating over the shell of it. "Because I would hate to have to stop kissing you, Charles," she whispered, letting her lilting accent thickening, knowing how it affected Charles.

He knew he had lost this battle – and he had never been more glad about anything in his life – when Elsie leaned over him, exposing the little bit of skin at her throat that was not covert by her high-necked dress. When her Scottish brogue washed over him, he knew that he would never be able to deny her anything. He had hoped for years that Elsie hadn't noticed his melting heart and accelerated breathing whenever he had heard her voice in full swing, forgetting to moderate accent, language and volume, but he had long since capitulated to the suspicion that she had indeed noticed and taken full advantage of his weakness long ago.

"No, I wouldn't," he agreed readily enough. "And the old battle-axe would never fight – unless it was by your side."

Elsie dropped a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, overcome by emotions of gratitude and love. She couldn't form any words around the lump in her throat. Today had been a good day for her. She had woken up with a renewed sense of purpose, had allowed herself to focus on the future instead of the past, and had thrown caution and propriety to the wind with Charles. Now, though, she felt exhausted all of a sudden and quite shy.

Charles sensed the subtle change in his housekeeper and gently drew her down onto his lap and into his strong, reassuring embrace. "All is well, my beautiful lass," he whispered close to her ear. "Take a moment and let me cuddle you so I'm fortified enough to face the strenuous ordeal of dinner service." And he gave a theatrical shudder at the thought.

Elsie chuckled tiredly, snuggling her head into Charles shoulder, drinking in the peace and quiet around them. Before long the regular, deep breaths from the vicinity of his collarbone told Charles that Elsie had fallen asleep in his arms, this small gesture touching his heart in an unexpected manner. Closing his own eyes for a moment, he imagined holding their child in his arms, a tender smile playing around his lips.