Dancing
Elsie ladled more chicken soup into the bowl and carefully placed it on the tray along with the neatly folded napkin, spoon, and glass of water. Her mam had always said that the best way to cure a cold was fresh chicken soup and lots of water. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure how much more soup Charlie would consent to eat, though his only alternative, if he continued to grumble, would be a trip to Dr. Clarkson.
She could hear his coughing all the way into the kitchen and it broke her heart. He'd been miserable for the last two days, though she thought he seemed to be improving just a wee bit. At the very least, he was sleeping more soundly at night and waking only once or twice for water. And he hadn't had a fever in those two days, which was an even bigger relief. Ever since his brush with the Spanish flu, she was always a little more cautious, a little more concerned, whenever either of them fell ill.
She brushed back a stray strand of hair from her forehead and straightened her posture before picking up the tray and taking it into their sitting room. She didn't want him to see how tired she felt.
"Here you are, Charlie. Lunch is served, milord." She smiled as he rewarded her teasing with sharply raised eyebrows and that flustered look he reserved solely for her. "Bet you'll never guess what we're having."
"I'd love to tell you I smelled it from the kitchen, but that would be a lie," he quipped as he shifted on the sofa. Elsie carefully placed the tray across his legs and was about to step back when he took her hand in his and gave it a light kiss. "Thank you, love."
She smiled and caressed his cheek and forehead. "You're welcome. Now, let me dash back to the kitchen and get my lunch, and we'll have a nice chat. You'll have to tell me about the book you're reading. Once you're finished, I might give it a go."
Over lunch, Charles and Elsie discussed a great many things. Their easy banter included books, details for a trip they were planning, new curtains for the bedroom, and the county fair.
"That reminds me. I need to call the house and tell Mrs. Patmore that I won't be going with her this evening. I completely forgot about that. It slipped my mind!"
Charles placed his tray on the small table in front of the sofa and pulled the afghan a little tighter around his chest. "Why would you need to cancel? You two have been looking forward to going for weeks, ever since the first posters were put up at the post office."
Elsie wiped her mouth with her napkin and started to clear away their dishes. "That was before my husband fell ill, and priorities changed." She said the words in such a matter of fact manner that it took Charles by surprise. Unless she knew something he didn't, and he seriously doubted she did, he only had a cold and there was no reason for her to abandon her original plans. When she returned and settled down on the other end of the sofa, he stretched out his hand and took hers, giving it a squeeze.
"I'm fine, Elsie. There's no need to fuss. It's a little cold, nothing more. You should go with Mrs. Patmore and have a good time. You can tell me all about it when you get back this evening. Besides, you've been cooped up in this house with me for days. The change of scenery and a more pleasant face might be a welcomed change."
She scooted closer to him and lifted his arm until it was wrapped around her shoulders. "First of all, Mr. Carson, there are much worse things than being cooped up in this house with you. In fact, I do believe I've enjoyed having you all to myself, though I wish you felt better. And secondly, there are plenty of women in this village alone, probably London, too, if I really stopped to think about it that would relish the opportunity to look at your pleasant face. Fortunately for me, that's my job and one that I have no desire to relinquish."
"They do say that love is blind, Mrs. Carson." He pressed his lips to her temple then quickly pulled away. "Do you really think you should be this close to me? I'd hate for you to catch what I have."
Elsie rolled her eyes and smiled. "I sleep in the same bed with you every night. If I'm going to catch it, there's nothing to be done about it. You'll just have to promise to love me in sickness and in health." She leaned against his side and put her index finger to her chin, pretending to think very hard. "Oh wait! You've already promised, so that's settled then. I can catch your cold and you'll have to make me soup." She leaned up and captured his lips with hers, kissing him sweetly for a prolonged moment.
Charles smiled and shook his head. "You'd better pray you don't fall ill. My mam didn't teach me how to make soup and Mrs. Patmore would never let us live it down if she found out exactly how you caught my cold."
"What's so mysterious about it? You're my husband. We wouldn't be the first couple to share illnesses. Parents even catch things from their bairns from time to time."
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, but this is Mrs. Patmore. She'll accuse us of … well, of showing affection," he said, clearing his throat, "and you'll giggle in that adorable way that you do, and she'll know the truth. She's starting calling our cottage the little love nest again. Then, I will hear no end of teasing from her at church for a month of Sundays." The look he gave her dared her to contradict his predictions.
"Well, I don't care what she, or anyone else, thinks. I've nursed you through illnesses before, and this is no exception. And if she dares to taunt you, I'll take care of her. I've seen the way Mr. Mason looks at her. There's no denying there's something brewing between those two."
"Don't go meddling, Elsie. They'll work it out for themselves." And then he had a thought dart through his mind. "That's another reason you should go with her this evening. It wouldn't do for her to go unaccompanied to the fair and meet up with Mr. Mason. It wouldn't look proper. If she went with you, and you happened to see him, then there would be no questions raised on the matter."
"You really are the last of a dying breed, my love. Need I remind you that I went, very much unaccompanied, to a fair to meet Joe Burns? Where was the scandal that rocked the house and caused the village gossips to wag their chins?"
"I nearly lost you," he said, the mood suddenly shifting from playfulness to something more serious. "And the ladies in the village know that you're above reproach. There have never been any questions about that or your character."
Elsie suddenly felt very clingy, like she wanted to wrap Charles in the tightest, warmest embrace and never let him go. "Charlie, even back then, I knew I could never leave you. Joe never stood a chance. It just took us a little longer to get here, but here we are, and we're fortunate."
"I am still the happiest and luckiest of men, Elsie. I never want you to forget that." He cupped her cheek in his large hand and brushed away a happy tear. "Please don't cry, love."
She leaned her head into his palm and closed her eyes, enjoying his touch and the love she felt from him. "Please, don't make me go tonight. I'd rather stay here with you, sick or not. Besides, there will be other fairs that come to town."
Charles thought about insisting that she go along, even if only for an hour or two. But his Scottish lass was stubborn, and he could see in her eyes that her mind was already made up. No amount of persuasion would change it. "You'd best call Mrs. Patmore, then. Maybe Mrs. Baxter or Daisy will go with her."
Her happiness was infectious, and Charles found himself laughing as she peppered his face in kisses. "I'll be right back, and then we can decide what to do with the rest of the day." She gave him one last kiss then went to make the call to her friend, hoping she would be sympathetic. At the very least, she'd offer to pay for tea in the village next week to make up for their cancelled adventure.
When Elsie returned, Charles was sitting with his head back and his eyes closed. At first, she thought he might have been napping until he reached out his hand and patted the seat next to him. "How did she take the news?"
Elsie settled in beside him and leaned into his side. "Generally, very well. I told her I'd buy tea next Thursday, since it's her half day. By then, you should be completely well and tired of my nagging." She wrapped her arm around his stomach and gave him a gentle squeeze.
"Hmm, you don't nag me. You gently push me in the directions you want me to go," he teased. "Now, what do you have planned for the rest of my convalescence?"
Elsie laughed heartily. "I think, husband, we should take a nap, or at least stretch out on the bed. We'll be much more comfortable. I can come down a little later and get dinner started." He groaned at the thought of eating another bowl of soup. "Now, don't you start! I wasn't going to tell you this, but Mrs. Patmore is going to send Andrew over at six with a basket. All I'll need to do is heat up whatever she sends. You get a reprieve from soups and stews."
"Remind me to pay for your tea party next week," he joked. "It's the least I can do." He stood and offered her his hand, leading her upstairs to the bed where they collapsed for a cuddle. After several long moments in companionable silence, Charles finally spoke.
"What did you and Mr. Burns do at the fair, Elsie?" He knew he had no right to ask, but ever since that night, he'd dreamed up a thousand different scenarios and every one of them ending with the image of that little straw doll. Briefly, he wondered if he should ask the whereabouts of the fair prize, but he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know.
She closed her eyes and thought back to that evening, trying to recall important details that might interest Charles, leaving out others she thought might upset him for one reason or another. "Well, you know we had dinner at the Grantham Arms. Nothing special, as I recall. I think I had the chicken and he had the lamb dish. We talked about old times, his farm, my work … the usual topics, I suppose, when you haven't seen someone in years."
"I'm sure it was nice seeing you again after all those years." There was no hint of jealousy or bitterness in his voice. After all, Elsie had married him and turned down Joe Burns. That had to account for something. "After dinner, did you take a stroll through the stalls? You must have."
"We did, and I introduced him to a few of the friendlier people in the village. As you might imagine, we steered clear of the gossips like Mrs. Wigan. He bought us each a hot apple cider at Mr. Beech's little stand, and we sipped that while rambling through the rest of them." She paused, wondering if she should mention the doll and deciding there was no need to leave that bit out since he'd already seen it. "We stopped and he had a turn at the ring toss. That's where he won that little straw doll. After that, we said our goodbyes, and I walked home."
"I still can't believe he let you walk home all alone in the dark! I would never have allowed that, even if it was our first date."
"I wasn't in any danger. Besides, I knew the others were right behind me so I wasn't afraid."
"Be that as it may, it still wasn't right. If something had happened to you that night …"
"But it didn't so calm down! I made it back in one piece, as you well know."
Charles toyed with a strand of hair that had worked free from her loose bun. "You don't have to answer this, but I'm curious about one thing."
Before he could ask, Elsie offered the answer. "I gave the doll to Miss Sybbie during one of her first trips to my office. It had been tucked away in the back of a drawer since I turned down Joe's proposal, and when the little girl came into my office in tears, I remembered it. She still has it, I think. I'm surprised you haven't seen it in the nursery."
Charles made a mental note to stop by the nursery on his next visit to the abbey. He wasn't entirely sure why, but the fact that she'd not held on to the doll for sentimental reasons made him just that much happier. "I promise you I'll try to win you something at the next fair. I'm sorry I'm not able to take you to this one."
She stretched and kissed his cheek. "It's a date then, Mr. Carson. I'll put you in my calendar as soon as we get out of this bed." She couldn't help laughing at her own joke. "My, my, that sounded a little risqué. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Indeed," he said with a stifled yawn.
Elsie smoothed her hand over his chest and sides, lulling him into a restful sleep and dozing a bit herself. When she finally woke, she eased herself from his arms and went downstairs to tidy up a bit before Andrew arrived with their dinner.
Right on time, he knocked on the door just as Elsie finished lighting the fire in the stove. He dropped off the hamper and was quickly on his way, adding that he was walking Daisy and Mrs. Patmore to the fair as soon as he returned.
Elsie let her husband sleep until their supper was almost ready. She was sure he would be thrilled with the contents of this basket. Roast, potatoes, carrots, fresh bread, some cheese, and for dessert … his favorite … apple tart. She was just about to call him when she heard him stirring about. "Supper is almost ready, love," she called up the stairs.
"Coming down now," he shouted back, his voice sounding much stronger than it had earlier in the day.
During Charles's nap, he'd dreamed of taking Elsie to the fair, having her arm looped through his, being the proud husband that he always felt when she was near. Images of her laughing, leaning into his side, sipping mulled wine, and watching, in delight, as he won her the prettiest doll in the stall all formed one continuous dream. But the best part of it all had been the feeling of taking her into his arms in the village square and dancing with her, holding her close, letting the world know that theirs was not a marriage of convenience as some had rudely suggested before they were wed. And that was the image he clung to as he woke, the one he carried with him down the stairs and to dinner with his wife.
After a very filling meal and while Elsie was clearing away the dishes, Charles lit a few candles in the sitting room and stoked the fire. He listened with delight as Elsie hummed to herself, a little off key but that made it all the sweeter. When he was certain she was finished, he turned on the wireless and found a station which was playing some rather soothing music.
"Mmm, that's lovely," she said as she stepped into the room while removing the pins from her hair and shaking it loose. "I think I'll go up and change for the night."
"Actually, I was hoping you'd join me in a dance or two first. But, if you'd rather get comfortable, that's fine." He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice, but even he knew it had been a lost cause.
She walked over to him and slipped an arm around him. "My nightdress can wait. It's not every day I get the opportunity to dance with such a handsome and persuasive man."
With practiced ease, Charles slipped his arms loosely around her waist and drew her into his embrace and began to gently sway and guide her through the rhythms of the melody. He leaned close to her ear and whispered softly. "Close your eyes and try to imagine us at the fair, dancing slowly under the lights at the gazebo in the square." He paused, giving her a moment to focus on that scene. "We are surrounded by other couples, some older and others mere children by comparison, though none of them matter. You are the prettiest woman there. We are gliding through the paces as if we'd been dancing together for decades, each movement synchronized, fluid." He brushed his lips against the shell of her ear. "I'm sure the other men in the village are jealous but I pay them no mind because I know you only have eyes for me, and I see no other woman besides you."
"Charlie, I can see it all in my mind," she whispered softly, lightly scratching the nape of his neck with her nails. "As the dance ends, we stop moving in measured circles and stand close, arms still around each other. I know others are watching but I simply don't care. I want to stay right where I am … then and now … right where I belong."
He put only a small amount of space between them and rested his forehead on hers, tilting his head only slightly so he could kiss her lips ever so softly. She crinkled her nose, as if it tickled, and pulled his head back to hers, intent on giving him a proper kiss.
"I don't want you sick, remember?" Once again, he rested his forehead to hers and began to sway once more to the new tune coming from the wireless. Slowly, they moved in perfect unison, around their little sitting room as the candles and firelight began to fade. "I believe this is the point where I have to walk you home, my dear."
"Good thing for me, we're already home." She reluctantly stepped out of his arms and let her fingertips skim along his unshaven cheek. "Bank the fire, and I'll get the candles."
Obediently and swiftly, he did as she requested, then allowed her to lead him upstairs. Without another word passing between them, they changed into their nightclothes, switched off the lights, and slipped beneath their warm blankets.
"The next fair that comes to down, Elsie, I promise to take you, and we'll dance the night away, if that's what you'd like."
"Oh, I don't know. We can go early enough for some popcorn and made a drink, but I'd much rather spend my evening alone in the comforts of our little love nest. To me, this was much more enjoyable than the fair, though don't tell Mrs. Patmore I said that or she'll never let me live it down."
"Your secrets are safe with me, Mrs. Carson."
Just as they were drifting off to sleep, he heard it.
"Ah-choo!" followed by a frustrated groan.
"Sounds like someone has caught a nasty cold. I told you not to kiss the butler."
She swatted his chest. "Just don't tell my husband. He'll never let me live it down."
"A wise woman once told me … in sickness and in health. I can't wait to feed you endless bowls of chicken soup tomorrow."
She sighed before sneezing again. "At least we got to dance," she murmured softly before drifting off to sleep.
A/N: Thank you all so very much for the reviews for the "Picnic" prompt. It's nice to know you're still reading and enjoying my Charles and Elsie stories. If you're so inclined, I'd love to hear what you think of "Dancing."