Oh how I wish for just a kiss on the show, heck I'd even settle for a hand hold! Until then I'll have to make do with writing fanfic to cheer me up!

Day 10

She wakes leisurely, warm and content, turning from her spot at the side of the bed – facing the door (easier for the loo in the middle of the night) and finds him sitting beside her reading. Without opening her eyes she slips closer to him, her arm sliding over his stomach, her head easily finding a place to rest against the side of his chest.

He turns the page of his book without missing a beat. His hand coms to rest on her back, playing with the ends of her hair.

"What are you reading?" She murmurs against his skin, flexing her fingers against the place where his heart beats.

"Charles V, fascinating man."

She smiles, he's ever thirsty for knowledge and she admires that in him.

"Have you been awake long?"

"An hour or so, I made myself some tea and thought I'd enjoy the morning with a book."

"Mmm." She kisses his chest. "Am I disturbing you?"

She hears him smile, turning the page of his book again, "Only in the way I like to be disturbed."

She tilts her head over, turning onto her back, glancing up at him behind the leather-bound book, "Can I distract you even further?"

Again, without letting a second pass, he marks the page in his book and puts it aside.

"Distract away."

For a moment she lies looking up at him, feeling wonderfully comfortable and safe, it's odd how knowing you're loved can change your perception of the world.

"What should we do today?" She asks, enjoying the feel of his hands massaging her shoulders.

"I'm going to take you out for lunch." He says, shifting beneath her, enough so she moves, giving him room to snuggle back down next to her in their bed. "Spoil you."

"I'm already spoilt," she closes her eyes as he kisses her neck, that delicate spot he likes, "time and time again."

"I want to treat you," he turns her over, and she doesn't complain, allowing him to kiss across her shoulder blades, starting to move his mouth down her spine. She giggles at the tickle of his tongue and early-morning stubble.

"I have to clean." She sighs, folding her arms on the pillow, resting her chin on her hands.

"Clean where?"

"Here. The cottage. It hasn't been done in days, if anyone were to visit…"

"They can go away," he interrupts, "I'm on my honeymoon and I don't want to be disturbed.

"Except by me?" She lifts her head up to glance down her back to him.

"Except by you," he grins back up at her and she thinks she's never seen him look so relaxed and happy.

She closes her eyes again, he's peeled back the bed sheets now and is working his way up from her ankle, massaging and kissing as he goes. She thinks she should feel embarrassed; naked, so open in front of a man, but she doesn't and she supposes that comes with the backbone of trust they have between them. Trust and friendship.

Though she's rather enjoying the attraction part of their relationship now it's here. The physical expression of love.

"What are you doing?" Her voice is barely a whisper, she can feel her skin heating up, radiating it from within.

"Enjoying my wife," he says against the back of her thigh. "Every inch of her."

She's smiling as he slides his strong arms beneath her and bids her to turn over; she suddenly feels very exposed in front of him, aware of how her breasts fall, of the creases in her skin. But then nobody is perfect, certainly not at her age, and she notices his arousal as he touches her and realises none of it really matters.

His mouth moves over her stomach and she breathes deeply, sighing on the exhale as his tongue tickles the sensitive spot that points down to her hip bones. Whenever his hands brush that spot she shudders, she's noticed he does it on purpose now. But then there are things she's learnt about him too; he likes to feel her tongue in his mouth (he groans her name at that), to have her on top so he can watch her move, to feel her fingertips sliding over his stomach and down between his legs when he doesn't expect it. She never would have thought him adventurous but then her eyes have been opened to so many new things over the past ten days she can't remember where it started.

He's easing her legs apart and she gladly consents, her hands already reaching for his shoulders, ready to welcome his body into hers. Yesterday, she remembers being on the beach and telling him he enjoyed mornings and now it occurs to her she does too – what better way to start the day.

Only he surprises her again and she yelps at his touch, at the realisation that his mouth is moving between her legs and she isn't prepared for this act of intimacy. For a moment she can't relax, she lies frozen staring up at the ceiling wondering what on earth he's doing and how he knew to and how she didn't and what that means… Then she breathes, feels his hand on her stomach and she slides her hand down to hold his. She closes her eyes, focusses on the touch of his tongue, the delicate pressure, the way her insides react to it. And then his fingers are there too and she gasps both in shock and pleasure at it, jerking up off the bed, looking down at him between her legs. Surprise and pleasure colliding. What does she know about marriage really?

He squeezes her hand that he's still holding and she lies back again, she bends her leg and finds she's pushing herself back against him. "Oh god, Charles!" She suddenly gasps, wondering how he can do this, and why the hell hasn't he done it before.

Her mind is racing, heart pounding painfully in her chest, and that deep strong pulse between her legs, she's rambling. "Charles. I want…" She pinches the skin of his hand with her own, her nails raking over it. He pauses, kisses her stomach, his other hand still there.

"You want?"

She feels he's watching her and she doesn't know whether to be turned-on by that fact or embarrassed by it.

"Tell me…"

His voice sounds so good, so low, husky, full of love and lust.

"I want to." She swallows, moans loudly again as the pressure of his fingers deliciously wraps her up in a sweet, tingling sensation. "I want you. I want to."

Her hands grasp at his shoulders drawing him up to her, meeting his mouth hungrily and passionately, and once he's fully on top of her she wraps her legs around him, pushing her body to his until he slides slowly inside whispering her name repeatedly.

The pressure is too much and it doesn't take long before she's climaxing, quickly and powerfully, and calling out his name. He pauses, giving her time to come down from her high, kissing her hair, her face, reverently. And then he moves again, deep inside her body, slowly and sensually, and this time her orgasm is drawn-out and shuddering and shared with his as he finally loses control and pours years of longing and want into his movements.

Exhausted he collapses beside her, scooping her body up to his, eyes closed as he kisses her.

"Thank you," he mumbles into her mouth.

"Thank me?" She smiles, pushing him back so she can flop against him, her body tired and sated. "That was quite some distraction."

"I don't know what came over me," he's breathless, heart pounding beneath her cheek.

"I did," she kisses his chest, at the place where his heart beats.

"I think perhaps you did, or you are, certainly you're doing something to me, I've never been this way before."

She hums as she moves her kisses up his body, moving to lie on top of him, to face him. Her eyes are sparkling with a mix of happiness and desire.

"Rather unexpected isn't it, to feel like this?"

He runs his hand into her hair, marvelling in how it's fallen loose from her braid and frames her face. "I thought I was too old, in fact I'd decided years ago that I would never have this kind of relationship."

She turns her head, kisses his fingers that thread through her hair, nibbles on the end of his little one, "It's not like you to be wrong."

He chuckles, "No, it isn't is it."

Smiling she leans up and kisses his mouth before folding her arms on his chest and settling her chin on them. He reaches for the sheet and pull it over their bodies.

"You've always been so…"

His eyebrows rise at her expression, "Go on, I won't mind."

"Rigid." She settles on.

"As in boring, do you find me boring?"

She shakes her head at his teasing, "You see, you didn't used to be like that, making jokes, do you know how many years it's taken me to break through and find this humorous person beneath the icy façade?"

"Far too long, you should have chipped harder."

"I worried if I chipped too hard you'd retreat and never be seen again. Besides, how was I to know that you even cared, way back then? You never showed signs of interest. Not for a long time. And then finally friendship, perhaps companionship, someone to talk to at the end of the day. For years I thought that was borne of familiarity, I'd been there so long, we'd worked together so long, we knew each other so well, that you simply had nobody else to talk to in the same way."

"I loved you longer than I dared admit it to myself. It scared me. It still does – I'm not used to all this." He waved his hand around.

"Oh, and I am!"

"I didn't mean that, this," he shook his head struggling for words and mindful of her gleeful expression at his awkwardness. "Oh don't do that, I mean I'm not used to talking like this, about feelings, it isn't how I was brought up."

"It isn't how I was brought up!"

"It isn't the English way."

"It isn't the Scottish way neither," she smiled, tapping her fingertips on his chest. "Perhaps though it can just be our way, not all the time of course, I'm under no illusions – when we go back next week we'll be harassed and busy and barely have time to say goodnight before we fall into bed. But sometimes Charles, sometimes, let's just be like this and talk, really talk. Don't hide from me."

"Never again." He stroked across her hair again, his hand coming to rest on the back of her neck, "Are you hungry, would you like some breakfast?"

"No, I'm saving myself for my luxurious lunch."

"Luxurious?"

"You said it was a treat; where are we going?"

"Harrogate I thought; we can get the bus, make a day of it. See the church, enjoy the fine weather and our freedom."

"Lovely."

Kissing his chest one last time she rolled off of his body and to the other side of the bed, sitting up and dropping her feet to the floor.

"Where are you going?" He said sulkily.

"Bathroom – I'm going to have a quick bath before we go," she glanced back at him, "oddly enough I feel rather… in need of one!"

He listened to her filling the tub and lie there contemplating whether to get up or return to his book. It seemed a little of an anti-climax to do so, so in the end he got up, made the bed and went downstairs in his robe – determined to make himself useful whilst she bathed and dressed.

By the time she shouted down to him he'd cleaned the parlour and mopped the kitchen floor, finding rather a lot of cake crumbs around his chair. He couldn't look at it now in quite the same way, he'd forever see her naked in it and he was still caught between indulging in that wonderful vision and feeling ashamed for having it.

He used her bath water for a quick rinse and enjoyed lying there watching her brush out her hair in front of the mirror. She caught his gaze in the reflection and frowned at him shaking her head, "We'll miss the bus," she tutted, "and then be there too late for lunch."

"We have time, no need to rush."

"My how time's have changed," she leant over him and kissed his head, "there was time you were rushing up and down hallways barking orders."

She was pinning up her hair when he came to dress and he found that as fascinating as watching her unpin it, or doing it himself.

"I'm glad we don't have to do that," he said as she finished and put her hat in place, "I'd have to get up even earlier every morning to fiddle about with all those things. Pins and what-nots."

"I'm glad you don't do it either, otherwise you'd look odd." She said matter of factly as she got up, "Right, whilst you're finishing I'll go tidy downstairs."

"Done."

"Done? You mean you've cleaned downstairs?"

"Completely," he straightened his tie proudly.

"Oh you are wonderful Mr Carson."

"Quite."

She was chuckling as she went downstairs and found her bag and purse, looking forward to their day trip.

Charles encouraged her to order exactly what she wanted from the menu and damn the cost. He reached for her hand across the table as she scanned the interior of the restaurant, the wonderful artwork adorning the walls, the starched white linen. She flexed her fingers beneath his.

"People will notice," she said gently.

"You're my wife," he smiled, delighting in the sound of the words. "And I can't take my eyes off of you."

She smiled, blushed, "People will notice that too."

"Let them."

She turned her hand over, watching how their palms fit across the other. Her thumb stroked his wrist and she felt his skin shiver.

"I like this," she said still staring at their hands, "I like how we are."

"As do I." He cleared his throat, still leaning towards her, "I worry we'll lose it when we return there."

She wasn't sure if he deliberately avoided using 'Downton' or not but it struck her nevertheless. They only had four days left and she was beginning to feel like she was on some kind of countdown, a slight anxious tight grip in her chest when she imagined it.

"We don't have to go back." She said looking up at him, her index finger stroking the centre of his palm. "If you don't want to."

"But I do." He held her gaze. "Or rather, I've not quite talked to myself about leaving."

She smiled, "I understand that." She slid her hand from his and reached for her water. "We don't have to make any decisions yet."

"Will you resent me?"

She swallowed her water, her eyes narrowing, "Resent you? Why?"

"I don't want to have to make a choice –,"

"Nobody's asking you to." She interrupted.

"No, what I was going to say is, my choice would be you. But I don't want to have to make it."

"You don't. Charles." She reached forward this time, gripping his folded his hands tightly in hers. "I don't want to make a choice neither. We'll know when it's time. It will be odd, very odd, but we've survived worse. We made it to this point didn't we, despite our well-tuned self-repression."

He allowed himself a small smile at that.

"When it's time to go we'll know, I'm sure of it. Let's just enjoy every single moment."

"I am."

"I had noticed." She tapped his hands one last time with hers before pulling back and allowing the maid to serve their tea.

They walked after lunch, in and out of shops, Elsie bought trinkets for their home – things Charles couldn't see the purpose of but carried nevertheless.

And as late afternoon drew in they walked to Prospect Place and stood side-by-side in silence holding hands as they read the names on the newly-erected memorial. Drawing in a tight breath Elsie opened her handbag and took out a handkerchief to dab her eyes; she thought of William and young men like him. All those lost.

Charles squeezed her hand and as selfish as it was she thanked God he was too old to fight. They might never have known this.

"Impressive isn't it." He said gently.

"Very."

"A suitable tribute."

He said no more and she didn't push him to, there were things that didn't need to be said, things she knew about him, the things that lurked in his heart that she knew of but would never share with another living soul.

They turned back to the town, bought cakes and took the bus home.

With aching feet they sat in the garden as the sun set. It was warm and humid and they shared their cakes and drank cold beer.

"A little paradise," he said, eyes closed as he leant back in his chair, extending his legs.

"I don't usually like beer," she said swirling the liquid in her glass, "but this isn't bad on a warm summer's night."

"Mrs. Carson, don't tell me I'm leading you astray."

"How odd would that sound! Though I have tried quite a few new things of late that I've enjoyed."

He shook his head at her, stretching before he stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"To get more beer, won't be long."

She closed her eyes listening to the sounds of the birds, lazy flies, the summer settling down for the night. She wanted to take her clothes off and go swimming in the river, to feel alive.

She brushed the thought aside, it wasn't appropriate.

Charles brushed her hand suddenly and she wondered when he'd crept back, she opened her eyes, sitting up as he pushed something into her hand.

"What's this?" She asked as she put her glass aside and accepted the small box he held out to her.

"A gift," he said simply, sitting in the chair he'd pulled up in front of her.

"Have I done something to deserve a gift?"

"Every day."

She smiled, "You'll make me blush." She gently took the ribbon from the box and eased off the lid.

For a moment they sat in silence; Elsie staring into the box and then breathing deeply, "Oh my goodness," she stated taking the delicate chain from the box. "Charles, this is beautiful."

"I saw it some time ago and thought –,"

"Some time ago?"

"Yes."

"Before we married?"

"Before we even agreed to marry. I thought I'd give it as a Christmas gift, then Christmas came and went so I thought maybe a Birthday and then that went too and I've just had it and never known when to… but it seems right now. And I do so want you to have it."

She found her throat had closed up and felt tight and restricted, it took all her focus to breathe as she handled the chain and the dainty ornaments hanging from it, a small heart and a key, fashioned like the one she was first given when she arrived at Downton, ornate and sculpted. He gave her that key when she became Housekeeper, she remembered that moment as clearly as she remembered their wedding day, as the first moment they kissed, as the moment he'd first admitted his love for her.

"You do like it don't you?"

"Oh goodness Charles," she finally looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Of course I do, of course," she moved forward and slid her arms over his shoulders, being drawn into his embrace. "I love it, thank you. I'll never let it out of my sight."

He was knelt on the grass in front of her and she rested her hands on his shoulders as he fastened the chain around her neck.

"There," he said satisfied, "perfect."

"It is. Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

He kissed her slowly and languidly, letting his tongue encircle hers, tickle the roof of her mouth. She was leaning forward off the chair by the time his mouth left hers, almost in his lap, moaning into his mouth.

"Maybe we should go inside…" he said lowly, his lips still tracing hers.

"Mmm," her hands felt heavy on his shoulders. "We will, let's just have a moment though. It's cool out here and we're alone."

Awkwardly he got to his feet, leaning on her chair to do so. She watched as he moved to his own chair before she got up and stood in front of him, "Not like last night," she teased before settling on his lap, her legs hanging over the side of the chair, her head against his chest.

"Comfortable?" He asked kissing her head.

"Mmm, I might fall asleep."

"That's all right," he kissed her again and closed his eyes, marvelling at the feel of her on his knee, the warm wonderful weight of her body against his. " I gave up dreaming about this kind of thing a lifetime ago," he whispered.

"Me too, it seemed something that happened to others and never me, I accepted that."

"They say God has a plan."

"So he brought us both to Downton? The plan was a little slow moving."

"But we got there in the end, I suppose that's all that matters really."

She yawned, "I think the last few days are catching up with me."

"You're happy with things though, you feel more settled?"

"With Mabel? Yes, I do."

"Good. We'll be lazy tomorrow, stay home and enjoy having to do nothing but be in your company."

She smiled, her fingers sliding along the new chain she wore, "Have I told you I love you today?"

"I don't think so."

"Charles..."

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"And I love you Elsie." He held her tighter as he spoke.

"Charles?"

"Yes?"

"Call me Mrs Hughes."

He smiled kissing her head, breathing in her scent, "I love you Mrs Hughes. Even more than I love Mrs Carson!"

She chuckled at his teasing, twisting her head to look at up at him, "We can go inside now, if we don't I'll be asleep and I'm really hoping you're going to show me how much you love me..."

If you're still reading and enjoying please leave a review and let me know. Only a few more chapters to go!