Chapter 3
Charles hesitated on the threshold of his bedroom, their bedroom, holding his case. His eyes were on the double bed in the center of the room, a bed he would soon share with his wife. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. But not tonight. He would put his belongings away, change into his pajamas and sleep on the small settee downstairs. He rather doubted he would sleep much anyway.
*CE*
"Have you got everything?"
"I have."
"Are you packed?"
"Very nearly."
"Are you nervous?"
"Not particularly, Mrs. Patmore. Are you?"
"I am and I don't mind admitting it. It's not every day two of your dearest friends get married and retire." She shook her head sadly. "It won't be the same without you two."
"We won't be far," replied Elsie briskly. "And besides, you may retire sooner than you think. You do have a cottage now."
"Aye, that I do, though I'm not sure it'll be as cozy as yours," Mrs. Patmore said slyly. She leaned in closer. "Come on, then. You can't tell me you're not at least a bit nervous."
"Certainly not! Mr. Carson has made all the arrangements. It's a much smaller affair than I'm used to overseeing, but it's certainly the happiest."
"I'm not talking about the wedding, and you know it." Mrs. Patmore fixed her friend with a beady stare. "It's after the wedding I'm wondering about."
Mrs. Hughes' eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger. "Mrs. Patmore! I don't see that it's any of your concern!"
"Oh, get down off your high horse, madam. It's me you're talking to! Or maybe you have been married before?"
"You know I haven't."
"And Mr. Carson?"
"Of course not!"
"Has he kissed you?"
"Mrs. Patmore!"
"I can tell he has by your face. It's as red as those tomatoes I sliced for luncheon earlier. Is he any good?"
"Mr. Carson's been a perfect gentleman."
"Oh."
Elsie couldn't help but laugh at her friend's disappointed tone. "Even tonight?"
"Especially tonight."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing, Mrs. Patmore."
"You were a bit long at the cottage." Beryl smiled eagerly. "Tell me everything!"
"Steady on, Mrs. Patmore! There's nothing to tell."
"But he kissed you?"
"Not at the cottage."
"Oh, outside the cottage, then."
"If you must know, he kissed me goodnight at the Abbey. On the hand," Elsie added primly.
"On the hand? Bloody hell." Beryl covered her mouth and glanced ruefully at the housekeeper. "Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Hughes. I'm that sorry."
Elsie waved away the apology. "I've certainly heard worse. So there you have it, Mrs. Patmore. The whole illicit story." Mrs. Hughes laughed, though it sounded a bit forced to Mrs. Patmore's ear.
"Well, then."
"Well, then."
"But you're still not worried about tomorrow night?"
"Mrs. Patmore, honestly. I don't quite know what you're fishing for-" She held up a hand to forestall her friend's retort. "And even if I did, you must know I couldn't say anything more than I have."
"I doubt that, but I'll accept it for now." She rose and rolled her head on her neck. "Coming?"
"Yes, I think I ought, Mrs. Patmore. We've a busy day tomorrow."
"Yes, we do."
The two women quietly cleared the remains of their impromptu tea.
"Good night, Mrs. Hughes. And thank you. You've been a true friend."
Unexpected tears sprang sharply to Elsie's eyes. "As have you, Mrs. Patmore. Good night."
They embraced clumsily, then silently made their way up the back stairs to their attic rooms.
*CE*
Charles shifted about irritably in a vain attempt to get comfortable. He was too large for the blasted thing, and when he pulled the afghan to his chin, his feet were bared. He sighed. He was determined to spend the night downstairs. He had a stubborn sentimental desire to wait until his wife could join him in their marital bed.
He shifted again. Thinking of her in their bed would not encourage a good night's sleep, and he certainly needed one, if tomorrow night went as well as he hoped.
It had been so difficult to refrain from kissing her these past few weeks, kissing her as he had done at the cemetery: recklessly, passionately. Holding her so closely, feeling her relax into him… He shoved the blanket off and sat up wearily.
It had been many years, decades, since he'd been intimate with a woman. The memories still shamed and embarrassed him, especially since he'd experienced Elsie's fresh, innocent kisses. He'd sensed her uncertainty that day, her inexperience and it both thrilled and pained him. He felt a dark, threatening anger toward any man who had ever even looked at Elsie, but, what was worse, her inexperience reminded him of his own innocence, and how he had been seduced and corrupted by the free-spirited world Griggs had introduced him to.
You went into it with both eyes open, mate. He couldn't deny that.
He'd had a few innocent romances as a lad, but he was wholly unprepared for a life on the halls. He still remembered that awkward, bumbling young man who never quite knew where to put his eyes amidst the chaos and frenzy of backstage.
Charles was perhaps the handsomer of the two, but Griggs was a charmer who never lacked for companionship. Charles was mesmerized by the relaxed and easy camaraderie the performers enjoyed. Charlie had promised him a party, and he certainly had delivered.
Though Charles never became as dissolute as his partner, he broke what he had previously considered an inviolable set of moral precepts. His first few fumbling attempts with women were quick and flustered, but he listened and learned and improved. Or so he'd been told. To think he'd been considered chaste in that environment! He scrubbed his face and sighed again. He could never have dreamed of securing the affections of a woman like Elsie Hughes. Not at twenty, not at fourscore and twenty for that matter. He could scarcely believe his good fortune now. All he could do now was strive to be the husband and lover that Elsie Hughes deserved.
*CE*
Elsie hadn't wanted to confide her nerves to anyone, least of all Mrs. Patmore, a good soul, but a most unlikely confidante for private matters between a husband and wife.
She fretted as she prepared for bed. Certainly she understood the act itself; she'd been raised on a farm, for heaven's sake. She knew enough of the ways of men to explain certain particulars to her girls and, in almost every instance, to keep them safe. Only now she found those talks woefully inadequate. There had been times when she'd actually considered speaking with Anna, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. She shuddered; it would have been horribly awkward for them both.
She pulled a box from the bottom of her wardrobe and opened it carefully. She unwrapped the tissue paper to reveal a modest nightgown and matching dressing gown. She'd gone all the way to Ripon to purchase it on her last half day. Her summer nightgown was serviceable , albeit plain, so she'd indulged in the purchase of a new, and she hoped more flattering, nightgown. She flushed to think what Charles might say. Would he be pleased? She thought so, but of course she had no way of knowing. Occasionally, she'd caught him looking at her with dark, hungry eyes, but he always quickly composed himself and smiled that loving smile that caused her heart to catch painfully. She realized she was looking at a man in love, and she could hardly imagine herself as the object of his affection.
She thought she understood why he'd been so distant; she found herself too shy to press what was clearly unwanted affection, so she contented herself with receiving a very proper, very chaste goodnight kiss each evening. Mrs. Patmore had scoffed, but that was one of the very reasons she loved him so dearly, one of the reasons she could love him. She often became frustrated with his dogged persistence toward the way things were done, but she was very grateful to him for never putting her in the position of having to say that one little word. She wasn't entirely certain that she could. She smiled down at her nightgown, thinking that after tonight, she wouldn't have to.
A/N: Not only is my drabble fic giving me fits, but this latest update took off in an unintended direction. I hadn't really intended to dwell too much on Charles' backstory, but I definitely dabbled here. As of now, I intend for the next chapter to be the wedding night, so be forewarned of a ratings change in case I forget to change it when I post. Meanwhile, I'm still crying over some of the truly wonderful fics going on right now. I need an M-rated wedding night update to cheer me up.