A/N: THIS IS UPDATE #2 TONIGHT - BE SURE YOU'VE READ CHAPTER 12 FIRST.

Some background ... thanks again to beta-extraordinaire silhouettedswallow.

I appreciate all the "When are you updating?" messages! It makes me really happy that you like the story so much. I've just returned to work today, though, and am finishing up a chapter of "Music of Our Lives" this week, so it's going to be at least a week for this one. I'm apologizing in advance, and promise to explain everything (or most of it) in Chapters 14-16. xxx

CSotA

Song choice NOT on Spotify, so hit up YouTube: "Haunted," by Sinead O'Connor and Shane MacGowan (thanks, brenna-louise!).

Do you remember that sunny day,

Somewhere in London in the middle of nowhere?

Didn't have nothing to do that day,

Didn't want to do nothing anyway ...

I want to be haunted by the ghost

Of your precious love ...

London, 1901

"Oh, excuse me!" she exclaimed, trying valiantly not to fall on her behind in the middle of the bakery.

He reached out to grab her elbow – saving her dignity, perhaps, but not the bread that had been in her arms. She turned, looked into his eyes, and he struggled to remember how to breathe.

"The fault is mine, I wasn't looking where I was going. Forgive me, Miss …?"

"Hughes," came her breathless answer. She hadn't even looked to see what had happened to the loaves of bread, she only had a vague notion that they weren't in her basket where they should have been. "Elsie Hughes."

He took a deep breath, relinquishing his hold on her arm reluctantly. "Well, Miss Elsie Hughes, I believe that you are now in need of two new loaves of bread. I do apologize for my complete clumsiness, and I insist on paying for them."

She still hadn't withdrawn her gaze, and he wasn't sure if he was freezing or melting under its fierce, blue light. "That's quite alright, sir," she replied, a question joining the brightness in her eyes.

"Charlie Carson," he said, somehow managing to extend his hand without it shaking. He delighted in the warmth of her small fingers as he grasped them and gave her a slight handshake.

"Well, Mr. Carson," she began, having regained her composure at last, "it appears I'd better watch myself around you!" And then the double-meaning of her words made it to her brain – much, much too late, she realized – and she blushed furiously at the unintended insinuation. "Oh, I do apologize! That was hardly appropriate."

He barked out a laugh, realizing that the sound seemed new to his ears. Charlie wasn't exactly unhappy with his life, but he rarely had the time or the inclination to be jovial.

"Have no fear, Miss Hughes. I presume you're new to London?" he asked, eyebrows raised. I most certainly would remember seeing her before, he thought.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, a flare of temper flashing across her face as she raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you presume that because I am Scottish? I can assure you, Mr. Carson, I am managing quite well in London."

He put his hands up as if to ward off her fury. "No, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I'm terribly sorry, I was just trying to be polite." He furrowed his expansive brow, trying to right the situation. "It's just that I've never seen you here before, and I'm frequently in this part of the city on my time off …"

Seeing she'd managed to frighten him, she sighed, shaking her head slightly as she apologized. "I'm the one who should be sorry, that was horribly rude of me." She took a deep, calming breath. "I'm the head housemaid at Carlton House. This is my first time in London with the family, but I've visited before."

He nodded. "Ah, yes – they've not come in for the Season for some years now. Tell me, are you enjoying your position with them?" He motioned to the baker as he spoke, indicating that he'd like two more loaves of bread for Elsie. He paid the baker's wife and placed the bread in Elsie's shopping basket.

"Thank you, Mr. Carson," she said, indicating the loaves. "Yes, I am enjoying my position very much. I'd been with a family in Scotland for a number of years, but the opportunity to be head housemaid in a larger house was too good to turn down. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've a few other errands to run, and would rather not spend my entire half-day in this bakery." She smiled kindly at him, and he knew at that moment that he'd do anything within his power to see that smile again.

"Miss Hughes, forgive me for being so bold, but as it's also my half-day, might you allow me to escort you on your errands? If you've time afterward, I'd be happy to give you the 'Charlie Carson Tour of London,'" he said theatrically, giving her a slight bow. "I've spent many a Season here, and there are things that, in my opinion, simply should not be missed."

She looked at him for a moment, and he saw curiosity in her eyes. He had the distinct feeling that she was almost judging him, and that she wasn't someone to dawdle when making up her mind. He hoped fervently that she didn't find him wanting. After what seemed like an age to him but had only been several seconds in reality, she acquiesced. "I'd be delighted, Mr. Carson, thank you."

Charlie opened the door for her as they exited the bakery, ever so grateful that Lord and Lady Grantham had chosen this particular Season to spend in London making updates to Grantham House.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The errands were completed swiftly, followed by tea at his favorite shop and a walk in the park. Charlie couldn't believe how comfortable he was with the diminutive – but fiery! – woman who was now seated beside him on the park bench. He'd never been this at ease with anyone in his life, not even Alice. Elsie was chatting away about a book she'd been wanting to purchase, slightly annoyed that the book seller didn't have a copy in yet.

"I thought for sure that they'd have it here in London," she mused. "Do you enjoy reading, Mr. Carson?"

"I do – quite a lot, actually," he answered. "Dickens is my favorite, but I'll read nearly anything I can get my hands on. I frequently borrow books from Lord Grantham's library; I find that reading helps my mind to wind down at the end of the day."

She nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. "I love getting lost in another world sometimes. Not that I don't appreciate my position, Mr. Carson, but sometimes it's nice to … well … live a different life."

"Hmm," he mused, lost for a moment as he watched her nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Mr. Carson?"

"Oh! Yes … I'm so sorry." He looked around them, noticing that the sun was beginning to set. He quickly took out his pocket watch, glancing at the time.

"Oh, my goodness, Miss Hughes! I didn't realize the time at all. I must not keep you from your dinner."

She reached out and patted his arm briefly, before remembering herself and pulling her hand back to her lap. "Please do not worry yourself, Mr. Carson. I typically fend for myself on my half-day. Her Ladyship makes it quite clear that I'm not expected back for dinner – they are truly kind and generous in that regard. But, to be quite be honest, I prefer a simple meat pie and watching the sun set while out of doors to being trapped inside with few windows and a half-warmed meal. I've had a chance to sample quite a few choices from the local vendors." She paused, hoping she hadn't sounded ungrateful, but he was already nodding.

"I wholeheartedly agree." He took a deep breath and forged ahead, wanting to speak before he lost his nerve altogether. "Might you allow me to show you my favorite place for dinner?" He paused, wondering if he'd been too forward. "It does afford a lovely view of the city," he added.

She hesitated, and his heart sank. What if she's not allowed? She hardly knows me, and this is hardly proper. But still, we're both of a certain age, he thought; it's not as if we're being taken in by the impetuousness of youth.

And then his spirit soared as she gave a brief nod of agreement. In the years to come, he would pinpoint that moment as the time his axis shifted, the day when he suddenly felt a little less lonely in the world.

"Why not, Mr. Carson? I am rather enjoying seeing these quieter bits of London you're showing me."

So, with hopeful minds and fluttering hearts, they proceeded on their way.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The rest of the Season passed in a blur, and Elsie and Charlie managed to spend every half-day together. On their second outing, he had reached out to take her hand, and his heart had sung as she'd not only allowed it, but grasped his fingers firmly in her own.

We're not exactly teenagers, Elsie had told herself firmly. There's no need to feel so … giddy.

But throughout the summer it became more difficult to believe that. She did feel like a teenager in the first blush of love. Over the course of her life, Elsie had precious few opportunities to be truly happy. Growing up on a farm had ensured she'd appreciate the value of hard work, of earning a living to help support her family. She'd even been courted and – she still couldn't believe it – proposed to. She had cared for Joe, truly she had, but she'd never felt as happy, as cared about, as – yes – loved, as she did when she was with Charlie. He'd not yet said the words, and nor had she, but she knew they were there, just under the thinnest of covers, ready to be revealed at just the right moment. And it scared her to death because once the precious, beautiful London Season came to a close, he'd be lost to her once again.

They managed one full day off together towards the end of the season – a minor miracle, which she'd barely managed to arrange with the housekeeper at Carlton House – and Charlie surprised her by bringing along a picnic hamper and a blanket. She'd agreed to meet him in the park just after breakfast, and had arrived only moments before him.

"Charlie Carson! However did you manage to get that out of the house unseen?"

He simply smiled and shook his head, touching his fingertip to the tip of her nose. "A valet must be able to keep secrets, Miss Hughes."

"Elsie," she reminded him.

He watched her as her eyes glanced downward at her toes, her timid voice ringing in his ears. "Elsie," he whispered, reaching his hand out to cup her chin and raise her face toward his. He leaned in and brushed her lips with his own, fearing for a fleeting moment that he'd lost his ability to stand despite the fact that this was hardly their first kiss.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she got lost in the warmth of his touch. This is love, she thought. This is what it feels like to get lost in another's presence.

They broke apart, painfully aware that they could have been seen despite the lack of other pedestrians out at this early hour. "Charlie, we should head somewhere … else," she suggested. He held out his elbow and she tucked her hand into the crook, not caring where on earth he took her today, wishing that the hours would last forever.

"Well, I've got a spot that I often go at the end of the Season. My favorite spot – on the outskirts London, actually, but I'm sure that few people know of its existence." He stopped walking and looked at her. "Would you like to see it? We'd need to take a short tram ride …" His voice trailed off, hopeful that she would place her trust in him but aware that she may not wish to.

Elsie nodded. "I don't care where you take me, Charlie, as long as we're together. I can't bear the thought of the Season coming to an end so soon."

He couldn't help but agree, wondering how in the world he was going to live without her once he returned to Downton.

They descended from the tram in a relatively rural area. Charlie led her down the road a small way and then onto a winding trail. The further down the path they proceeded, with its twists and turns and forks, the more Elsie marveled at how the man wasn't completely lost. She had a remarkable sense of direction but even she'd be hard-pressed to find her way back out of all of this. What had started as a wide path approaching a forest had eventually become a narrow trail bordered only by trees and the occasional woodland creature skittering about in the leaves. But just when she thought they couldn't get any further in, the trees parted, and a small clearing could be seen. The entire area was surrounded by dense brush, the sky partially covered with leaves that let the sunlight peek in here and there but still provided shade. She looked at the grass, which looked lush and green and was strewn with random clumps of wildflowers.

"Oh, Charlie," she breathed. "This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen."

"I've been wanting to show it to you all this time," he began, "but … well, I wasn't sure if it was a good idea."

One look in his eyes told her his meaning exactly. She reached up and brushed her fingertips across his lips. "Perhaps it was a perfect idea, love."

His eyebrows flew up as they both realized what she'd said. "Elsie," he muttered, putting the basket onto the ground and drawing her into his arms. "Oh, Elsie, my love. And I do love you, so very, very much more than I'd ever thought I could love anyone."

As he pulled her tighter into his embrace their lips crashed together passionately. This was what she'd spent all those years listening to the housekeepers cautioning girls about. But it didn't matter one bit, because this just might be worth giving everything up for, to feel this just once in her life. And, by God, she was going to let it happen if it was what he wanted. The thought barely passed through her brain before she lost all control over thought and reason, getting completely lost in Charlie, in this glorious place where they'd never be found by another living soul.

He was barely able to focus on what was happening and took a moment to break away from her. He silently spread the blanket on the ground and sat on it, waiting to see what she'd do.

Best to let her take the lead, Charlie my man … you don't want to mess this up.

And what did he have to offer her? What could he promise besides this one lovely, uninterrupted day? He certainly wasn't in any position to make a proposal of marriage, an offer to share his life, to make a proper home for them. What on Earth was he doing?

She sat down next to him, sensing that he had something on his mind, something bothering him. She foolishly worried that he suddenly didn't want this. "Charlie?"

He grasped her hands and kissed the backs of them. "Elsie, please, hear me out. I am sorry … I should never have presumed … I'm in no position to marry you, not with us both in service, it would never be allowed …"

"Shhh, my lovely man," she murmured, placing her fingertips over his lips. "I know … and I've nothing to give you except for this." She paused then, trying to put together words that would be both heartfelt and honest. "I appreciate you respecting my honor, but I'm hardly a lass." She stopped at that, hoping desperately that she wouldn't have to explain the basics to him, wouldn't have to explain that the threat of 'repercussions' was slight at best, that she was midway through that phase of her life and almost past any chance at all that she'd be able to bear children, that women in her family reached that stage fairly early in life. The thought stabbed at her heart, the knowledge that she could marry this man tomorrow and they'd still have no decent chance to have a proper family, and she shoved it deep down inside, not wanting to examine it any further.

"I'd marry you tomorrow if we could, you need to understand that," he whispered, moving to sit behind her and pulling her back so that she rested against his chest. "If only we didn't have to return next week."

"If only we didn't have to return, if only we didn't need the work … Charlie, it's no good wishing for something we can't possibly have. But I fully intend to enjoy this day with you, this afternoon that we do have, before we need to return to reality in a few days' time … if you'll have me."

And, with that, she turned and pressed her lips to his once again, secure in the knowledge that no matter what else life brought their way, in this moment she was loved deeply and honestly in a way that she might never be again.