My oneshot for the 5th Day of the Chelsie Tumblr Countdown.

The Carson's walked home from the Abbey in near darkness, of all the events they had to put on at Downton, weddings were by far the most taxing as they ended late into the night, if they ended at all. Charles Carson could feel his wife's tiredness palpitating from her as she held his arm, she leaned on him far more than she would usually so he was very keen to get her off her feet. As they entered their modest abode he sighed in relief.

"I'm glad we ate at the house this evening." At this he was rewarded with a sharp look shot in his direction. "I only mean that it's been a long day. You outdid yourself on such short notice." He was reassured to see his compliment seemed to placate her as she removed her coat and hat.

"Oh I see…I agree with you though, I'm rather happy to be home."

As he walked through the hallway towards the stairs he felt her hand slip into his. It was not the tight grip of his fingers she'd exhibited in the church earlier she simply slid her fingertips over his hand. She was gently tracing the many lines adorning his palm as if reading it. Her touch was reverent. She was not a fragile woman but her touch was always so soft and careful.
He didn't turn to question her reasons, instead he led her upstairs, comforted by the sound of her lighter treads behind him. When they reached their bedroom Charles pulled her in front of him so she could be enveloped in his arms. As soon as he did she sagged against him, allowing his bulk to keep her upright.

"My poor dear, you must be so tired." He gave her a sympathetic smile and dropped a quick kiss to her forehead as she nodded. "Let's get you into bed then."

It fascinated her, how his expression and tone could change the meaning of his words entirely. He had said this exact line on their honeymoon but it had contained a far more suggestive undertone. Charles must have thought back to the same moment as a slight smirk briefly ghosted his lips but he didn't comment. Instead he stepped away from her, letting his hands trail down her arms – mirroring her actions from earlier that day.

"Your curmudgeon will take care of you."

This brought about a laugh from Elsie for which he was grateful – she was gradually relaxing. After obtaining her nightgown and robe she adjourned to the bathroom first as was their unspoken routine. As Charles got changed he thought back to earlier that day. They'd all been in a state of shock when told they needed to organise and run a wedding. This was something they would usually plan for months. The family were kind enough to request something understated, simplicity…as much as one could understate the wedding of an Earl's daughter. Mrs Patmore had planned a menu in record time – Daisy in charge of the cake following the success of her creation for Lady Rose. But he couldn't have been more proud of his wife. His brilliant Else had mastered her vastly diminished staff and organised as good a wedding as she have prepared had she had months of warning. She was a marvel to him. Her capabilities as a housekeeper were phenomenal to say the least, he didn't like the term but she was the perfect housekeeper – not a perfect woman, despite his love he was not naive enough to believe her flawless. But her skills in her job had safely assured that Downton would never have as good a housekeeper again. She would deny it but he had been made aware of how much work she'd done herself – Anna had found her making up a guest room for Lady Shackleton, a job usually assigned to both housemaids. How he could ever imply to her that she could no longer make a bed to his exacting standards, he couldn't fathom. He'd been cruel to her. Thankfully he had learnt his lesson after attempting to create dinner and a few days later they had spent a whole evening in absolute honesty with one another, discussing their thoughts and feelings about their married life so far.

When she returned he'd turned down the bed and built a small fire.

"You get comfortable my love, I'll just use the bathroom. But if you wouldn't mind could you lea…"

"Leave my hair up?" Her eyes gleamed.

"Please?"

She would indulge him and nodded as she slid beneath the covers. Charles couldn't help but chuckle. Following their wedding night he had discovered a fascination with her hair – the untamed masses seen by no one. Midway through their honeymoon he had plucked up the courage to ask if he might unpin it and even plait it. It had taken many attempts, some a little painful (though she hadn't admitted it) before he had mastered removing all the pins before he brushed. He still hadn't remotely grasped plaiting but she patiently showed him – on the other nights he would eagerly watch her anyway, fascinated by how her fingers could sculpt her hair without seeing it. One of those mysteries of women.

"Are you alright?"

She was observing him from her reclined position in bed. He'd absentmindedly wandered back into the bedroom amidst his musings of her, a soppy smile on his face.

"More than, my love."

A faint blush appeared on her cheeks and she tilted her head to the side as she smiled at him.

"Time to come to bed then."

He willingly obliged, after tossing his robe over her vanity's chair he joined her. Charles leant back against the headboard and guided his wife to sit before him. She felt his shuddered breath on the back of her neck, his hands hovered over her chignon. His thumbs slowly slipped through the curls to find the cold metal lost in a forest of sandy tendrils. It had gotten so light over the years. She hardly resembled the stern face housemaid, with kind eyes and mahogany hair that she had arrived with. She had been beautiful then but age had brought about a new beauty – something richer and mature, like one of the fine wines he handled and she certainly was an exquisite vintage.

A slight moan from in front of him brought him back, so often he found himself lost in thought of her. Elsie's moan had been brought about by his fingers now massaging her scalp. Her head lolled back as she became lost in his ministrations. A tight hairstyle brought about infrequent pain but a lot of aching – so she was especially glad of his massages.

"You spoil me."

"You're my wife, you deserve every second of it."

He heard a short breath and knew she was smiling.

"Who'd have known the imperious Charles Carson was such a romantic."

He placed a kiss on the nape of her neck.

"You've changed me for the better my dear. I feel I'm a better, kinder man because of you Elsie Hughes."

"Carson."

"Hmm?"

"Elsie…" She turned to him. "…Carson. Actually."

"So it is. Mrs Elsie May Carson."

For a moment they sat grinning at each other, the way they had on their wedding day – innocent smirks that translated to their sheer joy at final freedom to feel their love for one another both in themselves and to each other.
Thinking back at this, Charles took hold of her left hand.

"It made you reminisce, today, didn't it?" Elsie nodded. "It made my heart jump, I don't mind admitting it, when you took my hand in church. Every Sunday we've been back there I think back to it. But today; the flowers, the words – it brought it all back."

"I was quite overcome, remembering our day, how it felt, how I feel and will feel, forever."

"It feels strange, to be so open about feelings."

"Unfamiliar but not uncomfortable I hope?"

"Of course my dear. Everything in this new life with you is wonderful."

After rewarding him with a soft peck on the lips, she coaxed him to lie back against the headboard, after depositing the pins to the side table and she lay with half of her body strewn over the broad expanse of his chest.

"Mr Carson. I have a feeling these are going to be the happiest of years."

"Mrs Carson. I would have to agree with you."

Charles believed after ten minutes of her silence he had lulled her to sleep with gentle strokes of her hair. He lowered his voice to what he could manage of a whisper.

"It's times like this I think of how much I prefer our time at the cottage, how much I think I'd like to live like this every day. Spending so much of my time with you, yet still having those moments alone. Maybe it's time…"

Elsie looked up in alarm.

"You're genuinely considering retirement?"

He was startled by her sudden movement, unaware she had even heard his words. "I am. I never thought it a possibility – leaving only seemed an option when I was utterly decrepit and unable to work"

"What's changed your mind?"

"I've realised the shortness of life, what with his Lordship's ulcer, Mister Matthew, Lady Sybil…you can't take life for granted and far too late I've realised I need to re-sort my priorities – which are you."

Tears were threatening to form in her eyes.

"Elsie if I'm to prove myself a worthy husband I must dedicate my life to your happiness and needs."

"Darling…"

"No no it's true. You do so much. You're a wonderful woman and a wonderful wife – I need to repay your kindness and love."

"You don't have to leave to do that."

"But I think I want to. I want to retire earlier to bid so I can hold you for longer before we sleep. And the same in the mornings I want us to battle through meals together." This prompted a laugh from both of them. "You shouldn't have to do it alone, I want to help. Then we can both work in the garden… I never realised the joy of time at my leisure until I saw my future entwined with yours.
I know you're younger, still perfectly capable, energy as much as any of your maids to do your job but I'd love you to retire with me. Not immediately of course but please consider it – we're not struggling for money, Becky would be well taken care of. Never let it be said Charles Carson allowed his sister's comfort to be forgotten."

At this he found himself covered by his wife who had launched herself up at his chest.

"An unworthy husband? Never. You could never be that."

She didn't need to gush over him, they both knew how important his words were and their sentiment.
They lay reclined in silence for a good few minutes.

"I confess it would be nice to not have to worry about when we sleep because we can lie in in the morning."

"I don't know how but you managed to make that sounds a little risqué."

She managed to mimic that giggle she'd elicited on their day at the beach.

"You know what I mean – wouldn't have to worry about when we were getting to sleep."

"Ever the practical one my dear."

"Speaking of which…"

"Say no more it's been a long day and you've worked harder than most."

They took a moment to manoeuvre themselves down into their customary positions – she on her back and he turned just slightly allowing their hands to claps in the small space between the, Whilst they loved cuddling, tightly wrapped in each other's arms, when it came to sleeping they had to be apart – too used to sleeping alone/. Though when they awoke more often than not he was spooned behind her or snuggled far closer than he had been. She suspected he waited for her to fall asleep before he moved. Elsie rained her hand to stroke his cheek with her knuckles, the smooth, cool sensation of her ring made him smile so he took her hand and kissed it.

"I am so glad I married you. I don't think I can ever tell you enough."

"Well you have the rest of your life my dear."

"Even more time to enjoy it too if we returned." He held his breath. "I think it's time."

"Truly?"

"Truly. I don't see this as the end thought. Simply us starting out on a new life together."

"The new chapter in the life of Mr and Mrs Carson."

"Then maybe we should begin planning for it?"

"In the morning my dear. For now, let's enjoy a restful night's sleep."

"December." She murmured. "I want to start nineteen twenty six as Elsie Carson, not Mrs Hughes."

"December." He agreed with a lingering kiss to her forehead.

xXx

By New Year's Eve, the Carson's possessions had been moved to their newly finished house on Brouncker Road ready for their first night there. Their decision to retire had been announced in November with Charles' a fortnight prior to his wife's. It had surprised and worried him no end, how soon she had decided she would retire with him. He vehemently repeated to her she had decades left in her but she would not be deterred, insisting on her wish for her primary role to be his wife. He had conceded in the end, after much reminding of how much more time to themselves they would.

Christmas had been a grand affair, owing to the happy return of Edith, now the Marchioness of Hexham, followed Mr and Mrs Aldridge with their happy news that they'd be expecting their first child in the spring. Whilst Lady Mary announced on Christmas day, her second child would arrive in the following summer. Charles would never admit to anyone but his wife that he had shed a tear at the news.

They had stayed well beyond midnight, after certain members of staff were remarkably reluctant to let them leave, knowing they would not be returning in the morning – Elsie was sure the shoulder of her dress could never be dried of Mrs Patmore's tears. But despite this neither of them felt inclined to go straight to bed, they felt warm and joyful from all the champagne. Charles especially for he knew what lay waiting at their house.
He stood aside to let her to enter first but kept her held back in the hallway with the excuse of removing her coat for her, this allowed him to slip ahead of her into the living room. When she followed Elsie stopped dead in the doorway.

"What…"

The living room was decorated to form a simple but picturesque cottage Christmas. A modest tree had been erected in the corner, tiny electric lights pushed back between the branches which were adored with hand crafted glittering ornaments. Candles had been lit around the room casting hues of gold onto the furniture and fireplace in which fire embers glowed. Hanging from which were two stockings, each adorned with their initials.

"Merry Christmas Mrs Carson."

"It's already January." She couldn't help but tease him a little.

"I am aware. But it will be too long before we can have our first Christmas here so I thought, why not rewind the days a little." He encouraged her to cross the room to him. "After all, we have all the time in the world from now on."

"We do don't we?" Her face broke into the most dazzling smile. The flicking of firelight throughout the room was reflected in her eyes and he was too busy watching it dance across the pools of blue to realise he was staring. Her cool hand on his cheek brought him back and he emitted a smile that mirrored her own. "Merry Christmas Mr Carson…Charles."

And thus nineteen twenty six was welcomed by a former butler and housekeeper with a tender kiss.

xXx