She heaved a mighty sigh — her shoulders rising up as she attempted to work a crick from her neck. He sat at the foot of the bed, facing toward the door, while she was at the head of it, staring aimlessly out the window. She'd showed him the letter as soon as it had arrived. Shocked by its contents, she needed another set of eyes to read it, to make sure she hadn't misunderstood. As he scanned the letter, addressed to Mrs. Charles Carson, his face turned ashen and when he lifted his eyes to look at her, the light was gone from them like an unstruck match.

"He's certain?" He said, setting the letter down on the bed.

Elsie's mouth hung open, "I'd say so Charles, he's the doctor."

He picked up the letter and read it again. His brow furrowed, he stared at it longer than was necessary and when she realized he was avoiding looking at her again, she stood up, folding her arms across her chest and standing before the window.

"I suppose we'll have to tell His Lordship." He said after a few moments. She heard the bed creak as it released his weight, but he didn't come to her immediately. Instead, he hovered somewhat lost, at the foot of the bed.

"I'll have to tell Her Ladyship — I won't be able to conceal it much longer." She turned to him and offered a small smile — she was, in truth, delighted. Apprehensive, too, but not plagued by it. Not as he appeared to be.

"Have you been?" He asked, "Concealing it?"

"Are you daft, Charles? Surely you've noticed my figure's a bit riper than usual."

He shrugged, "Not really — or, if I did, I certainly didn't think — "

His eyes ran over her body a moment, looking for some sign, some clue that he had missed. His sudden scrutiny made her feel weepy, and she turned sharply away from him. Of course she knew as soon as she'd read the letter that things would change, that they would be difficult. They had talked about children and of course she wanted to bear his, but practicality set in quickly once the honeymoon was over and they returned to work. They both worked such long days, labor intensive ones at that, and the only thing in life that she wanted to give herself to wholly — other than him — was her career. The letter had been a reckoning, a fork placed dutifully in the road. She would have to choose, she knew. What she hadn't considered was that he may feel that he too must choose between that which he loved most.

"How do you feel?" He asked, breaking his silence. He stepped toward her and in that moment she felt a heap of emotion — one that overtook her so that she fell gracelessly into his arms. He hugged her, resting his chin upon her shoulder.

"Tired," she laughed against him, tears stinging her eyes. "A little sick — surely you noticed I haven't touched my toast in the morning?"

He pressed a kiss against her ear, "I assumed it was because you've been habitually burning it."

She pulled away, slapping his chest playfully, "I told you, I'm trying to get accustomed to the heat of the griddle."

"We've been here almost a year, Elsie!"

They held each other's gaze a moment before they both erupted in laughter. Pressing her forehead to his chest, she composed herself. When she felt his arms encircle her, she exhaled.

"A child," he said, his voice high with astonishment. He gripped her tighter and she felt the dampness of his cheek against her neck as he buried his face against her.

"You're not unhappy, then?" She said, lacing her fingers around his neck.

"A bit taken aback but surely not unhappy," he said, pulling away just enough to look at her, "You're happy?"

Her lips released a smile — on that she'd been holding on to since she had first opened Dr. Clarkson's letter. "My dear Ma, rest her soul, once told me that I'd know when I'd found the man I loved — whose bairns I'd be destined to bear. She said, "Jo, wait for a man who respects you like a sea captain respects the sea. A man who looks at you with awe and reverence but knows you are a force of nature."

"Your dear mother was a wise woman." Carson said, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. "I think I'd gladly drown in a sea of love." He placed one hand gently across her abdomen and looked at her as though he were staring into uncharted water. Inside her, a sea of possibility began to rise.


Elsie hovered outside the door to the nursery. She'd come upstairs to collect Her Ladyship's linens and heard the giggles of Miss Roux and the girls, who had begun their lessons for the day. Craning her neck toward the door, which was left open a crack, she overheard their quiet chatter.

"Very nicely done, Aoife." Miss Roux said, her voice young and silky. The tutor was practically still a girl herself — she couldn't be more than twenty-one—and was very tall and beautiful. No doubt the girls were more attentive to her ever-rotating Parisian wardrobe and hairstyles than they were the lessons she taught.

"Thank you, Miss Roux." Aoife said, her voice barely audible over the din of the room. Elsie smiled to herself—perhaps Charles' insistence upon her manners hadn't been for naught.

"Aoife — would you get me a new quill?" Mary asked, "I've broken this one."

Elsie furrowed her brow as she heard the sound of a chair being pushed back along the hardwood floor. She heard tiny footsteps, then, a moment or so later, Aoife's tiny voice.

"Here you are, m'lady."

Fuming, Elsie burst into the room — forgetting herself entirely—and glared at Miss. Roux. The young woman was clearly startled, but not so much as Aoife, who was holding her hand out to Mary. The eldest Crawley girl slowly picked her head up and looked indignantly toward the door where Elsie had burst in

"Aoife, love, come with me." She said sternly, staring Miss. Roux down.

"Mrs. Carson, I beg your pardon, but we're not finished with today's lessons."

"Yes you are," Elsie said, picking up her skirt and marching into the room. She grabbed Aoife's arm—harder than she intended to—and pulled her out of the room.

"Mrs. Carson, wait—"

Elsie tore through the long hallway, dragging Aoife behind her. Too shocked to protest, Aoife followed limply, her eyes wide and glistening with tears.

When she'd reached the top of the stairs, Elsie paused. She exhaled a long sigh and looked back at Aoife, who was looking at her as though she'd turned into some terrible nightmarish creature. Seeing her daughter regard her with fear, Elsie quietly damned herself as she slowly knelt down before her.

"I'm so sorry, Jo." Elsie whispered, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Why can't I have my lessons today?" Aoife asked, her eyes still following every minor move of Elsie's — as though she expected to need to lunge away from her. The realization made Elsie nauseated.

"Aoife, why do you call Mary "m'lady?" Elsie asked, reaching up to tuck one of Aoife's auburn tresses behind her warm ear.

"That's what you call the Countess," Aoife said, "When you do her hair."

Elsie smiled, "That's because she's my employer, Aoife."

"I work for Mary, don't I?"

Elsie's breath hitched — she lowered her hand from Aoife's hair and pressed it against her thigh, trying to calm herself. "Why do you say that, Aoife?"

The child shrugged, "She told me that she's going to be Countess one day and that I will be her lady's maid." Aoife said, her lip trembling, "She—she said we should p-practice."

Elsie reached up to wipe the tears from Aoife's eyes.

"What did I do wrong, Ma?" Aoife asked, "I have manners don't I?"

Elsie pulled Aoife close, "You haven't done anything wrong, love." She pulled away and looked at her, "Why don't you come downstairs and I'll get you a cup of tea with honey."

"What about my lessons?" She sniffled.

Elsie sighed, "I have to talk to your Da, Aoife. You haven't done anything wrong, don't fret."

Aoife looked over her shoulder to make sure they were alone, and reassured, she reached her arms up self consciously. Elsie acquiesced, lifting her into her arms and settling her onto her hip. Aoife rested her head on Elsie's shoulder, wrapping her arms around her mother's neck. Elsie hushed her quietly as they made their way downstairs, her breath as loud as the rustling of her skirts against the stairs.


A/N: So, I have to tell you guys that I have *sort of* finished this story - but I don't think I'm necessarily done with the AU, so this has a few more chapters left and I think I'll probably start another one, maybe one that runs parallel to it or, . . . I'm not sure. There's so much I want to explore about these two and their relationship, their parenting relationship. . .etc, etc. Thank you for reading, commenting, sending love - you guys are amazing and I'm just like, always so excited to work on it and post for you! 3