A./N.: Sorry to have made you wait so long for a sign of life from me. I hope you can forgive me. In recompense I have written this long-ish chapter for you, hoping you'll enjoy it and won't tear me to bits for my negligence. So pretty please drop me a line about what you think.

Revelations

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.

A tender smile curled his lips and he tugged Elsie closer to his chest, stroking her back in slow strokes while he nuzzled her auburn curls. Her weight against his chest was bliss and torture at the same time, not by any means because of heaviness, but more so because he was beset with images. These images were highly improper under their circumstances and highly irregular for a man like Charles Carson, who usually prided himself for his iron control and self-discipline. Now, with the sweet fragrance of Elsie's perfume caressing his nostrils, he felt his resolve erode to nothing. It was not only seeing himself holding their child in his arms, but the more confusing fantasies were of holding Elsie in his arms while in a mutual state of dishabille, her warmth much more palpable as it was even now. Fighting his own mind, made almost impossible by her closeness, Charles swallowed hard and tried to shift Elsie subtly. His beautiful Scottish lass mumbled in her sleep and snuggled back against his chest, her right hand coming up to clutch his lapel while her face turned into his neck. A shudder ran through him as he felt her hot, wet breath against his pulse point. To his immense shame, Charles felt how his body betrayed him and reacted to hers so enticingly pressed against his in no uncertain terms. There was no explaining away his arousal. He was afraid that Elsie would be scared if she would wake now and feel his desire for her. Sighing in defeat as he felt Elsie rub her face against his chest, Charles relaxed a little, trying to think of something less stimulating.

Behind them he could suddenly hear the door opening and when he carefully craned his neck back he saw that his soon-to-be sister-in-law had entered his pantry.

"I was looking for Elsie," she said quietly in way of an explanation. "Mrs Patmore suggested I come have a look here. She was right, it would seem," she teased, indicating her sister's form. Her gaze rested on Elsie's white-knuckled grip, betraying her anxiety. Glenna's eyes turned soft with compassion as she gazed at Elsie's peaceful face. She easily deduced that it wasn't the man making Elsie anxious, but the thought of losing him.

"We … we were only … I mean this isn't what it looks like, Mrs McKenzie," Charles stuttered out, flushing deeply in mortification. He would have jumped up from his chair if it hadn't been for Elsie pressing him down and the almost painful erection he tried to hide. "I would never compromise her."

Glenna took pity on him, stepping further into the room. She rested a hand on his shoulder, silently letting him know that she meant no harm. Her eyes were still glued to her sister's face, though, drinking in all the minute details from the tiny crow's feet by her eyes to the relaxed curve of her mouth near Charles' throbbing pulse. A twinkle appeared in her eyes as she contemplated Elsie's steady return to her former self and out of the shadows of her nightmares. Her little sister had poured her heart out to her and she had been able to see the healing that had accomplished. Where before there had been an open almost infested wound, there was now only a clean scar. This tender giant of a man could claim as much praise for that as she could.

"Isn't it?" she teased softly, eyes soft and laughing. "So you are not holding her and letting her sleep on your chest like a curled-up kitten … the only place she truly feels safe lately?" She reached out with her other hand and gently stroked through Elsie's loosening hair.

Charles swallowed hard and looked down, cheeks tinting red and breath hitching in his throat. "When you put it that way …" he trailed off, but his arms tightened around his betrothed. "She will always be safe with me," he mumbled into her hair; a vow he intended to keep even if it killed him. "I never want her to feel …" He couldn't tell Glenna McKenzie that!

The shrewd Scotswoman, though, seemed to know exactly what he had been about to say. "Och, laddie, don't fret yerself," she chuckled, highly amused for some reason. "Our Elsie has loved you for a long time now and she will find her way to you on her own."

Charles felt his heart swell with pride and compassion when Glenna included him into her family circle without even thinking about. For the first time in a long while Charles could call a family truly his own, without having to live on the scraps from his employer's family life. He looked down into Elsie's sleeping face; it couldn't have been clearer to him that she was now his family. Then he was distracted by Elsie softly stirring in his arms.

Mumbling in her sleep, Elsie slowly drifted back to wakefulness as she felt the delicious vibrations of Charles' voice rumble through her and soft touches to her head and back. She smiled softly to herself when she recognized a female voice as well, thinking that maybe Beryl was with them. Feeling cherished, protected, Elsie had started to heal. Her confidence was returning in direct relation to her maids returning to her maternal bosom, asking for advice or sharing confidences with her. The old order of things was restored and , instead of oppressing her, it gave her enough stability to find herself again.

Still only half awake she wriggled against Charles' chest, getting more comfortable on his lap. It would seem that she had slid lower to his knees. Suddenly a low groan sounded above her and Charles' arms tightened further around her, drawing her impossibly close to him. A jolt, almost like lightening in its intensity, shot through Elsie as her hips were propelled forward against Charles' groin. She could clearly feel certain parts of her fiancé's anatomy reacting to her closeness. More surprising, though, was her own reaction to it; instead of feeling terrified, or at the very least daunted, she only felt a vague sense of curiosity and tingling in her body.

Cautiously she opened her eyes and immediately swallowed hard as she noticed Glenna in the room with them, effectively catching them in a compromising situation. As she tried to sit up straight, she caught her sister's eye.

"Hello, sleeping beauty," Glenna teased lightly, a brilliant smile on her lips. Her hand rested lightly on her sister's shoulder, staying her movements.

Charles' arms further prevented her from jumping up, but she noted how he gently scooted her a little away from him, an embarrassed shade of pink on the tips of his ears even though his eyes had gone dark with intent. Her own heart beat accelerated while her breathing grew shallow. When Charles' voice washed over her, she blushed deeply and hid her face in his neck.

"She certainly is a beauty," he said softly.

"Positively glowing," a third voice from the door supplied. "The similarities to her sister are undeniable." Brian had come into the room, curiously following his wife. He shared a significant look with Charles while the two women huffed a little in mock-indignation.

"Are you all quite done?" Elsie asked conversationally, feeling safe and relaxed in the present company. She mock-glared at Brian, but pressed a shy kiss to Charles' cheek.

"That's not fair!" her brother-in-law exclaimed. "Why does he get a kiss?" An accusatory finger was poked at Charles, who leaned back out of reach, still holding Elsie tightly. His eyebrows had shot up into his hairline. This was one aspect of his new family he hadn't bargained for … surprisingly, since he knew of his fiancée's foible for teasing him.

"Well, ol' chap, go to your own wife," he harrumphed with a merry twinkle in his eyes. "This one said she'll stick with me."

Merry laughter rang out of the butler's pantry, drawing happy smiles to the maids' faces.

oOoOoOo

"So this is your room?" Glenna asked the purely rhetorical question, looking around. She had accompanied Elsie back upstairs, hoping to have another sisterly chat. Maybe it would go better than the last one … fingers crossed. In her letter home she wanted to be able to reassure her children that their beloved aunt was well.

Elsie nodded, standing nervously behind her sister, awaiting her judgement. She couldn't help but feel nervous about how her older sister would evaluate her life as reflected by her room. It was neat and tidy, just like its owner and her life, nothing out of place. With a sinking feeling and nervous twisting of her stomach, she half-expected to see Glenna put on a white glove and test the surfaces of her furniture like her old housekeepers had done, but Glenna simply took in her few personal belongings. Going over to the windowsill under her small window, her sister smiled gently at the photos of their farm with their parents up front or the one of the two Hughes sisters as small children. In the picture Glenna's arms were protectively around her younger sister while Elsie stood in front of her, leaning back against her and smiling shyly at the camera. Smirking slightly and shaking her head at the irony, Glenna contemplated that shy Elsie had gone farther in life and become a more commanding personality than out-going, pert Glenna. Looking back over her shoulder, she noticed Elsie's worried expression and hastened to reassure her.

"It's lovely," she said softly, smiling gently. "I especially love these personal touches. You made a home here and I can see you happy here." Looking down for a moment, she added pensively under her breath, "I always worried …"

"You mustn't, Glenna," Elsie reassured. "I'm well looked after by both my staff and the family upstairs."

Glenna nodded absent-mindedly. "Yes, you said and wrote that before, but I couldn't quite believe it … until I saw proof of it." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Elsie's shoulders, drawing her to her bosom. "I always thought of everything you had to give up. For some reason I never thought of the benefits of your position or that you made a home and family in service," she admitted with a self-deprecating little laugh.

Elsie shook her head, but quickly leaned her head on Glenna's shoulder, softly embracing her, too. "Lately I started to wonder myself," she said softly. "I actually asked Charles if he had ever wished to go another way, had a wife and children. In my mind I did see us together, but thought it would never happen, but now … like this …" She trailed off lamely, but Glenna understood her perfectly.

A hand softly petted Elsie's hair as her older sister wrapped her up in a protected cocoon like when they had been children. The same calm washed over her and her anxiety fell away. Ever since Elsie could remember the two Hughes sisters had shared their secrets; Glenna confiding the first flirtations, Elsie her growing feelings of entrapment and unrest. Now they forged this bond anew, setting back in their childhood roles.

"Elsie, don't worry," Glenna murmured, "nothing truly bad will happen to you now. You'll marry a good man who loves you, you can keep your position, and your families still love and respect you." She could feel Elsie's smile and her visible relaxation. Slowly her left hand drifted down from her shoulder over her arm and around front until it rested lightly against her stomach. "This child … every child, no matter the circumstances of its creation is a blessing. Your Mr Carson has already staked his paternity on it. What happened to you was horrible, Elsie, but some good things have come from it."

Her sister's impassioned speech washed away the last of Elsie's reluctance about embracing her new life. It was not about giving in to Grigg and what he had done to her, but it was about taking comfort and strength from the love of the people around her. Lady Grantham had already quietly proclaimed that she would help her with her child, Mrs Crawley, as new as she was in this town and in her life, had offered to help and support her with her skills as nurse … even the old bat had steadfastly stood by her side. She was surrounded by people who cherished her. Nodding silently, she smiled into Glenna's eyes, slowly covering her sister's hand with her own. "My child will know love and family values," she said quietly, decisively.

Glenna's brilliant smile and the happy tears gathering in her eyes were more expressive than any words. She stroked Elsie's cheek with tender fingers, soaking up her inner strength. Her eyes suddenly began to sparkle and she bit down on her bottom lip to keep her smirk from blossoming.

"What?" Elsie asked challengingly, her own answering smirk spreading across her face. She knew her sister's quick wit better than anybody.

"Well, I was just wondering if your wall would be demolished," Glenna teased, the smirk now in full swing.

For a moment Elsie stared at her dumbly not grasping the meaning of Glenna's words, then slowly a deep blush rose from her neck all the way up to the roots of her hair. "Glenna!" she squeaked scandalised.

Her sister roared with laughter, holding her sides and quickly retreating away from the light slap Elsie aimed at her shoulder. "You asked," she wheezed out.

"Honestly," Elsie exclaimed, "you'd think a woman your age would have better manners." Shaking her finger at her and clicking her tongue in annoyance, Elsie turned around and suddenly stood facing the wall behind her bed – the wall between her room and Charles'. She had mentioned his incessant snoring in many a letter home, so it was no wonder Glenna had remembered. Blushing again, she wrung her hands, eyeing the wall with a mixture of shy nervousness and a bit of apprehension still.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, lassie?" Glenna asked, all mirth gone instantly. Her beady eyes followed Elsie's every movement. With interest she noted the blush and the slightly glazed-over look in Elsie's eyes. "Are you worryin' about …"

"… my wifely duties? Aye, I am," Elsie admitted almost inaudibly. She turned around bravely and fixed her sister with a steely look. "Has Brian ever … insisted on …" She couldn't find the words to ask and trailed off lamely.

Glenna felt her own cheeks flame with embarrassment. She had never expected to talk about the intimate details of her marriage … with anybody really. Now she felt compelled to speak up, though, trying to reassure her sister. "No," she said simply, before elaborating, "Brian is a good man. He loves me and would never pressure me into anything." She swallowed hard and cast her eyes down. "Are you afeared of Charles?"

Helplessly Elsie shook her head. "I don't know," she confessed quietly. "I …" She stopped herself suddenly, hiding her face behind her hands. This was mortifying. She remembered what her mother had told her many years ago. She could also remember seeing her parents kiss and her mother hadn't look upset or afraid. Wringing her hands tightly together, Elsie looked down onto the floorboards in the vague hope that they would open up and swallow her. Nevertheless she had to know, so she gathered her courage and blurted out, "Does it always hurt?"

Glenna took a step back from the suddenness of the question. Her daughters had shyly asked a few questions before they married, but that had been different, entirely so. She stammered an answer, "N-no, o-only during the … the first few … well, you know …"

Both sisters were unable to look at each other. They were both of a generation when you did these sorts of things behind closed doors in the dead of night, but never talked about them. Growing up on a farm had given them a general idea of what went where, but in regards to preparing them for marriage it had been woefully inadequate. Glenna stifled a hysterical giggle as she remembered her own wedding night. She had been thankful that Brian wasn't as big as their father's Clydesdale had been, but had been surprised when Brian had faced her the entire time while … she coughed in embarrassment. Her cheeks burnt by now and she desperately wished for a glass of whiskey or similarly potent.

"Good," came the faint reply from Elsie's side of the room. "Do you like it?"

Her head came up in a shot and she thought she would choke at any moment. Elsie was turned away from her, staring out of the window, cheeks stained in red and bottom lip almost bitten bloody. Had her little sister …? No, surely not! She could have died from mortification. "W-what?" she rasped out, sure she had misunderstood.

"Please, don't make me say it again," Elsie pleaded softly, tears audible in her voice. "You're the only one I can ask."

It was like a fist in her stomach and Glenna almost doubled over. Of course Elsie would come to her. Who else was there? Their mother had died years ago and Elsie couldn't very well go to her employer with questions like this. Resigning herself to swallowing her discomfort, Glenna wearily stumbled over to Elsie's bed and sat down heavily. Then she patted the mattress beside her and sat softly, "Come here, a leannan. If we're to talk about this, let's get at least a little more comfortable."

Elsie hesitated for a moment, but then hastened over to her sister. Sitting down beside her, she buried her head in Glenna's shoulder. "I can't for the life of me remember Ma telling us something useful about this," she mumbled in way of an explanation.

Giggling now in fond memories, Glenna inclined her head and leaned it onto Elsie's hair. "No, not really," she agreed. "To answer your question: yes, very much." She was grateful that she didn't have to look Elsie in the eyes while she talked, but could hold her close and calm her wildly beating heart.

"I'm glad for you," Elsie murmured. She could feel Glenna's body vibrate with laughter.

"As am I, lassie," Glenna chuckled.

She was lightly slapped on the arm by her little sister for that. Both fell silent for a while, breathing deeply, then Glenna nudged Elsie in a silent question. A heavy sigh was her only answer for a while before Elsie had mustered enough courage to speak. "I feel safe in his arms and he is so good to me. When he kisses me … it feels nice … very nice." Elsie could feel Glenna squeeze her a little and a smile stretch her lips. "Today I felt … his … you know … and I wasn't afraid, just … I don't know … curious, maybe."

Clearing her throat, Glenna was on the one hand grateful that Elsie had been scared off intimacies entirely, but on the other hand she had the distinct wish to brain Charles Salacious Carson with a heavy skillet. Opting that neither reaction would be overly conductive at the moment, she only answered with a non-committal 'mhm' and let her sister talk a little more about her doubts. Her brain worked furiously about how to dismiss each of these concerns, Victorian propriety be damned. It would seem that her sister was looking forward to her wedding night and that a certain butler might get lucky after all.

oOoOoOo

While the two Hughes sisters had a heart-to-heart in the housekeeper's room, Lady Sybil was pacing her room in agitated strides. She was upset, deeply upset, and somehow she knew there was only one person who could help her, but she was loath to bother her. Her mother had been American enough to approach her and attempt to talk to her, but it hadn't felt right. Mary, on top of all that, had ruined what little comfort and trust had been built between mother and daughter. Sometimes she really hated her oldest sister and her cold ways. Mrs Hughes had been a confidant to Sybil since she came to the Abbey, always supportive, never judgemental. While her mother had bowed to the pressure of the Dowager and society in raising her children, Mrs Hughes had loved unconditionally, providing a soft, maternal bosom and a warm smile despite the social discrepancy. With a huff Sybil threw up her hands and then stormed out of her room. There was no sense in staying here when she was so clearly agitated and wouldn't find any sleep. Hastening down the corridor, Sybil was so focussed on her target that she didn't notice the person coming towards her … that is, not until she crashed into her head first. With a yelp she reached out to the nearest wall to steady them both.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, close to tears in her nervous state. Her breathing was rapidly speeding out of control as she was nearing hyperventilation. Slowly her vision started to get dark around the edges. Swaying dangerously on the spot, Sybil grabbed onto the other person, hoping she would stop her from falling.

"My Lady!" a Scottish voice gasped, "are you alright?" For a short moment Sybil thought she was in Mrs Hughes' arms, but then she realized that this woman was plumper and her brogue thicker, less refined around the edges than the housekeeper's. Looking up cautiously, she recognized Mrs Hughes' sister and took another step back, highly embarrassed to be seen this way. Before she could retreat further, though, a warm gentle hand wrapped around her elbow and stayed her movements.

"What is it, lassie?" Glenna asked softly, recognizing the look from her own children when they wanted to talk but didn't quite know how.

"I want Mrs Hughes …" Sybil wailed, not meaning to, but the dam had been well and truly smashed to bits. She was vaguely aware of her childish outburst, but couldn't bring herself to care. Mrs McKenzie nodded, not chiding her or smirking, and reached out her hand, leading Sybil back to her sister's room in the attics. Apparently her night's work wasn't over yet.