A/N: Well, my friends, here we are: Chapter 29. There will be a Chapter 30, serving as an Epilogue, and then our journey in this AU will be done. This story has always been about Charles and his journey to rediscover his true self and, by association, it's been Elsie and Daisy's journey, too. But this chapter is pretty much all Chelsie.

**It ends up on the far end of the "T" range or perhaps venturing into "M" - you've been warned.** (Shout-out to the true "M" writers - I couldn't do it, I don't think ... I blushed too much with this one.)

My thanks go out to brenna-louise who has faithfully proofread this chapter among many others, and a special thanks to all of my reviewers. I am humbled by your love and support, and by the fabulous conversations I've had that started because of comments or questions about this story.

The song choice for this chapter is "And I Love You So," as sung by Don McLean, and it's on my Spotify (along with the rest of the songs for this and other fics) on my Chelsie Potpourri song list.

xx - Chelsie on!

CSotA

And I love you so

People ask me how

How I've lived till now

I tell them "I don't know."

I guess they understand

How lonely life has been,

But life began again

The day you took my hand.

And yes I know how lonely life can be

The shadows follow me

And the night won't set me free.

But I don't let the evening bring me down

Now that you're around me.

Charles and Elsie were silent on the short ride to their new cottage. Neither could quite believe that they now owned another property; it was certainly an idea that would take some getting used to.

Cora had been particularly insistent when speaking to Robert that since neither the butler nor the housekeeper wished to retire just yet, it made more sense to have them living in a cottage on the estate once they returned from their honeymoon. She'd foreseen that they'd be reluctant to reside in what would normally be a guest room, and the feasibility of having a shared room in the servants' quarters was simply non-existent.

And so it had been that, last month, Cora and Robert Crawley had taken a long, meandering walk through all the tenant properties on their estate. They had selected the best of the lot for their treasured heads of staff, and Robert had seen that the cosmetic and minor structural updates that had been needed were completed swiftly. Cora had then visited the cottage with Miss Baxter, both women quite content to lie to the housekeeper about having to visit Ripon so as not to draw any suspicion to their real plans. They had made a list of anything and everything that Miss Baxter saw as necessary to making the cottage comfortable for the Carsons. Linens, towels, and window dressings had been purchased (Cora having insisted that those all be new) and furniture that the family no longer needed was moved from storage to the cottage when the Carsons had taken a full day off last week to meet with Reverend Travis in order to finalize the wedding service.

Robert and Cora had pulled Charles and Elsie aside during the wedding reception to tell them the news. 'You'll both want privacy, I am sure,' had been Cora's exact words to Elsie. Elsie had simply nodded at first, but managed to utter a quiet 'Yes, Milady,' hoping beyond hope that his Lordship and her Ladyship would ignore the flush that had come across her face. She'd never been so grateful for Lady Grantham's tact and understanding as she was at that very moment.

"I know you'd been planning to spend the evening at the Grantham Arms prior to heading to Scarborough in the morning, Carson, but my wife insists that this will be a welcome alternative." Robert had smiled kindly at Elsie and reached into his pocket to withdraw a set of keys, which he'd handed over to Charles. "The chauffeur will drive you to your new cottage when you're both ready to leave.

"This comes with all of our thanks for the many years you've both served our family, and in the hopes that many more still lie ahead," Robert said to the couple. "And, before either of you attempt to refuse, the gift is non-negotiable," he added with a smile. Robert had then reached out to shake the hand of the man who'd loved his family for so very many years, the man who had been a second father to his children, and who now had a proper family with whom to spend his days. "But regardless of when you should choose to retire, the cottage is yours for the rest of your lives."

He'd paused then to collect his thoughts. "Carson, it wasn't long ago that we thought we might lose you forever. I can't possibly express how happy I am to have been able to share in this glorious day with you both."

"Thank you, Milord," Charles had replied, truly touched at the level of emotion contained within the statement.

"Anna and Mr. Molesley will be packing all of your personal belongings from your staff rooms while you're away on honeymoon," Cora said to Elsie. "Unless you have any specific instructions, I'll leave them to arrange it all for you so that you've nothing to worry about upon your return. And some things have been brought down to get you through tonight, of course."

To Elsie's great surprise, Cora reached for her hands and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "We are so very happy for you both – and Daisy, too."

"Thank you, Milady," Elsie murmured.

Elsie was still shocked at how easily the Crawleys had handled the news about Daisy. She and Charles had come clean about the whole situation a week ago, not wanting to begin the next stage of their lives under a shadow of suspicion. Rather than expressing horror or even disgust at their situation, the Crawleys had expressed the kindest understanding and support. Elsie knew very well that both she and Charles – and Daisy, for that matter – could have been let go with no reference, out on the street for having kept so scurrilous a secret from their employers. Elsie thanked God every day that they were fortunate to work for a family that truly cared for its staff; Elsie had certainly been convinced of their esteem during her cancer scare, but she had been moved by it again when Charles was in hospital. Their care illustrated one of the only arguments with Charles that Elsie ever lost. Yes, she thought, in many ways, they ARE our family.

As the car pulled up to the cottage, Elsie allowed a gasp to pass over her lips. She looked at Charles with widened eyes, her gaze mirroring his own astonishment. He extended his hand and helped her from the car, then retrieved their valises from the chauffeur. Not knowing until that moment precisely which cottage they'd been given, they both took a few moments to absorb their surroundings, barely noticing as the car made its way back down the winding road.

The cottage sat a bit back from the road, with a lovely stone path leading to the front door. Someone (likely Daisy, or perhaps even Anna, Elsie mused) had placed a lovely wreath of heather on the door, which immediately marked the cottage as theirs and added a bit of warmth to its character. There was a small patch of garden in front, and a lovely view from the back of the expansive fields below. There was not a neighboring cottage in sight, their privacy protected by trees on all sides.

It was perfect. It was lovely, not too large, up-to-date, and secluded.

Secluded, Charles thought. We're alone. We are finally alone.

He reached over and took Elsie's hand, bringing her back from her wanderings as he led her to the front step.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Carson," he whispered, and smiled as she stood on her tiptoes for a loving kiss.

"Welcome home, Mr. Carson," she answered with a sigh. "Shall we?"

"I think so."

He opened the door and allowed Elsie to pass through, then followed with their suitcases, which he set down by the door. A fire was already lit in the sitting room and Elsie noticed that the stove in the kitchen was hot, a kettle already on in case they wished to have tea, and a hamper taking pride of place in the center of the dining table.

"Daisy," she said with a smile, looking at her husband. "So this is where they scurried off to."

"Ah yes, I wondered why Andrew had to accompany her," Charles said, nodding.

Elsie laughed at her darling husband, the sound music to his ears even though he was puzzled by it. "Oh, love, surely you don't think that Daisy actually needed help carrying this? I think she just wanted his company."

"Hmmm," came his reply. "Yes, well, we can discuss that another time."

Typical Da, Elsie thought. She smiled brilliantly at him as he helped her remove her coat, hanging it with his on the coat rack by the door.

As she moved about the cottage, Elsie couldn't help but wonder how it had all been put together right under their noses. "You know," she called out to Charles from the kitchen, "it's rather impressive that no one allowed anything about this to slip. Not much gets by you or I at that house. They must have worked very hard to take care of all of this, and everyone must have known. I believe I have a new appreciation for Lady Grantham's plotting skills."

"I agree," Charles answered, joining her by the stove. He placed a kiss to her temple as he reached around her to grab two teacups. "Tea, or food?" he asked her.

"Tea. You can tackle the hamper and make up some plates," she answered, taking the cups from his hand and reaching for the water.

"Your wish is my command," he answered, giving her a small bow.

"Oh, look who's cheeky now that he's married!" she retorted, giggling. She heard him stop moving and turned to look at him. "What is it?"

"You're giggling … I've never heard you do that before."

"I suppose I haven't had need to do so until now," she replied, moving over to kiss his cheek. "I presume you don't mind?"

"I think it's the loveliest sound I've heard in years," he said honestly.

"Flatterer," she murmured, blushing. "Now, go and make those plates. I was barely able to eat a thing at the schoolhouse and I'm absolutely famished. I feel as though I am going to need some sustenance tonight," she added with a blush, reaching out to push gently on his chest and shoo him over toward the table.

They sat and shared a comfortable meal, Charles commenting on how they owed Daisy and Beryl a special thanks for arranging it all. Their conversation turned to small things, both somehow feeling the unspoken need to rid their minds of trivialities so that they would be better able to focus solely on one another for the next several days.

Once they'd finished, Charles rose and gathered the dishes. "I think that you, Mrs. Carson, should remove those shoes and go put your feet up while I take care of these."

"As long as you promise to join me once you open that bottle of wine I spied in the basket," she said. "I wouldn't want to be on my own for very long …"

"My lovely, lovely wife," he murmured, putting his free arm around her, "I intend be by your side for every moment of the next week … that is, if you have no objection? As I've said before, I don't think I can bear to leave you anymore."

The sound of his voice ignited a fire deep within her, something that both calmed and invigorated her at the same time. "Good," she replied quietly.

His chuckle reverberated through her body as he gave her one last squeeze before relinquishing his hold on her. "Indeed," he said with a wink.

Elsie headed into the parlour, checking to see that the fire was still going strong before plopping down on the rather large settee. She tucked her legs underneath her, happy that she felt instantly at home in their new cottage.

She turned upon hearing Charles make his way toward her, and gasped when she saw what he carried into the parlour. "The Margaux! How appropriate. But how did they ever know?"

"I've no idea," he marveled. "I mentioned once to his Lordship how much we enjoyed it - perhaps they thought to ask him?"

Elsie slid over to make room for Charles to join her. He removed his own shoes and tucked them under the table, then handed a glass to her as he sat by her side.

"A toast, to my darling wife," he said, "who has spent the last many years patiently guiding me toward this day. I never thought it could happen, and I will be grateful all the days of my life." He clinked his glass to hers, then leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to her lips. "I do not deserve you."

"Oh, Charles, thank you for that. But I feel that you have guided me as well, you know. So here's to you," she said, raising her glass once again, "for bumping into me all those years ago in London, for seeing straight into my soul with a single gaze of those lovely, dark eyes … and for giving me everything that I never knew I needed." She touched his glass with her own and added, "It was the best summer of my life, you know, and I will always be grateful for it … and for you, my lovely husband. We have come full circle, indeed."

They sipped their wine slowly as they cuddled into one another on the settee. For a long while they said nothing at all, as was so often their way, communicating with a lean of her head on his shoulder, a kiss of his lips to her hair, a brush of her hand on his leg, a sigh full of love and promise and caring.

When the fire died down, Charles reached over and retrieved Elsie's glass, then allowed her to stand and stretch before she reached down and offered him a hand up.

"We're a right old pair," she said with a chuckle as his knees cracked.

"But a pair at last," he replied, eyebrows raised and eyes full of meaning. "As all of our family and friends bore witness to today."

Elsie nodded and followed him to the kitchen, standing in the doorway and watching him as he rinsed the glasses and put them on the rack to dry. "I rather like this domestic side of you, Charlie," she told him, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Shall I see more of this from my husband in the future?"

"You, my dear," he replied, moving over to where she stood and tilting her chin up for a kiss, "shall see as much from me as you would like to."

Elsie flushed and her eyes widened, her heart suddenly beating furiously in her chest. "Is that so?" she whispered, and eyebrow raised.

"Indeed." He reached down and took her hands in his. "I've waited so very long for this day, love. Even if I tried to deny it at times, my heart has always belonged to you. I need you to believe that."

"I do," she breathed, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Charlie? I think it's time to see what the bedroom looks like, don't you?"

His hum of an answer reverberated throughout her chest as his lips met the soft skin of her neck. "I do," he repeated, taking her hand and leading her down the corridor, stopping every few steps for a kiss.

The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of the fire, and Charles took a moment to add wood to it until it was roaring. There was a faint chill in the room, but neither really noticed it … nor did they take in the lovely counterpane, the softness of the curtains, or the muted colors that decorated the walls. Their attentions were focused on other details: the softness of her dress, the multitude of buttons down its back that he was swiftly undoing, the hidden skill of the former valet coming to the forefront once again; the whiteness of his shirt, a stark contrast to the heightened color in his face as he removed his jacket and waistcoat; the sparkle of the cufflinks he'd chosen for the day, which she was so carefully attempting to remove with trembling fingers, glinting in the soft glow of the fire.

"Elsie?" he questioned, putting his hand over hers to stop their tremor. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I am," she told him, "it's just … overwhelming. I feel as though I've never done this, which is utterly ridiculous. But, Charles … I'm no longer that young woman ..." she trailed off.

He reached his hand up and caressed her cheek, tilting her head back until she was looking him directly in the eyes. "But nothing," he said. "We are both older, hardly in the prime of our youth, as I've considered many times over the past several months. But I can state unequivocally that I love you more now than I did even then, and I'd have sworn up until recently that such a thing could not be possible."

She took a deep, cleansing breath, effectively ridding herself of the last of her insecurities. God help her, she'd been so focused on the changes to her own physical appearance over the years that she'd completely forgotten that he might have insecurities as well. But he didn't appear to have them at all now, so complete was his love and desire. One last look into his impossibly dark eyes steeled her confidence, and her fingers resumed their removal of the cufflinks, with no trembling in sight. She walked around him and placed them on the dresser.

Charles was completely overcome by the power of his emotions, and gave Elsie a questioning glance as he reached for the now-unbuttoned dress. She nodded and smiled encouragingly, and he gently drew the fabric down her arms, dropping light kisses to her newly-exposed shoulders and collarbone, but not allowing his eyes to linger too long on any one spot … for now.

Elsie reached for the bedpost to steady herself as she stepped out of the dress, its fabric having pooled around her ankles. She felt a renewed surge of love as she watched her husband carefully hang it in the wardrobe and place his jacket and waistcoat beside it, but her breath was taken away by the power behind his gaze when he turned from the wardrobe to face her once again.

Charles wasn't sure how, but in all the time he'd spent remembering that long-ago day in London, the afternoon which had been so full of passion and love among the wildflowers of the hidden copse, he'd not once thought of how tonight, for the first time, he'd be laying eyes on his completely unclothed wife. His eyes couldn't help but linger on the thin material of her shift, which let through a hint of the color of her thighs; her corset was mesmerizing, the way it encased her body in a way that he'd only been able to imagine in his dreams. He found himself swallowing repeatedly in an attempt to pull his brain back to reality, and he was failing miserably.

Elsie saw his hesitation and it steeled her own resolve. She moved her hands to the busk of the corset and compressed the hook-and-eye closure, allowing the vile garment to fall to the floor, leaving it where it landed as she walked the few steps needed to reach her husband. As he stood stock still, the shock of seeing her in such a glorious state of undress still processing its way through his brain, she reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, refusing to look into his eyes lest she lose all control of herself. She slipped her hands under the fabric and pushed it off of him, her cool fingers shocked by the heat of his body. She moved to the wardrobe to add the shirt to the rest of their things, then returned to his side.

"I believe you have the advantage, Mr. Carson," she muttered, nodding to indicate his vest and trousers. "You still have much more clothing on than I."

He licked his lips and swallowed, then bent and placed several chaste kisses to her lips, trying to control his desire by drawing back every time she tried to deepen them. He chuckled at her newfound forthrightness. "Pushy, aren't we, Mrs. Carson? he teased, a twinkle in his ever-darkening eyes.

"Perhaps," she whispered, "but, to be fair, I feel as though I've been pushing you for years."

He laughed at that, and then bent and scooped her body up in his arms and deposited her gently on the bed. "Well, I suppose I must agree with you there. My mistake, evidently."

She scooted to the edge of the bed and pulled him closer by the waistband of his trousers, no longer ashamed or nervous or any of those other ridiculous things she'd been tucking away for so long. As her fingers made swift work of his belt, he caressed her back and shoulders with his fingertips. Trousers were done away with, followed in short order by his vest. He then knelt before her, and ever so slowly pulled her stockings down and off of her legs, brushing his lips over her pale skin. Once they'd been removed he folded them and laid them gently on the floor.

Elsie maneuvered her way back toward the pillows, pulling the bedclothes down as she did so, and made herself comfortable before lifting the sheets and indicating with a nod and a smile that he should join her.

Charles climbed in and sat beside her, then ghosted his hands up and down her arms, allowing himself time to be steadied by her presence. She reached up to pull him down beside her, and propped herself up on one elbow. Resting her head on her hand she looked over at him, reaching out to caress the side of his face with her hand before moving closer for a kiss.

Despite all the tension and emotion of the day, all of the passion that had been steadily building between them, the kiss started out soft and sweet, gentle and loving; however, before long, each realized that they had neither the desire nor the inclination to put things off any longer. As his tongue brushed across her lips she parted them willingly, allowing herself a moment to focus on the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, and the soft moans that were emanating from deep within him.

She ran her fingers through his hair and felt the heat of his hand as he ran it up and down her side, avoiding both the edge of her breast and the skin on her thigh in a way that nearly drove her mad. She broke away from his lips and pushed on his shoulder, taking him momentarily by surprise before he landed on his back.

"Elsie?" he enquired, concerned that he had done something wrong. "Are you alright?"

"No," she answered, sitting up. Before he could utter another word, she got on her knees and pulled her shift up and over her head, discarding it unceremoniously on the floor. She then leaned over her speechless husband, placing gentle, teasing kisses to his chest as she ran her fingers through the small patch of grey hair in the center of it. "Better now, I think," she said, shooting him a wink of her own.

His mouth open in astonishment, Charles just stared at his wife for a moment. When he was able to properly breathe again, he reached out and grabbed her waist, maneuvering them both until she was on her back and wondering how this bear of a man could suddenly show such gentle agility.

"My, my, Mr. Carson," she purred, "it seems that you've not totally succumbed to the trappings of age." She reached out and ran her fingernails up and down his sides, eliciting both a growl of desire and a shiver from him. To be honest, she wasn't sure which she enjoyed more.

"You're a witch, you do know that? Well, two can play at that game." He lowered his lips to her collarbone once again, ghosting a trail of kisses across the top of her chest and down her sides, across her stomach, and back up again - pointedly touching every inch of exposed skin except for her breasts.

"I see," she murmured. "Mmm … Charles? I think - oh ..."

Having decided that he'd teased enough, he had allowed his lips and tongue to dance across her right breast, then the left, paying particularly close attention to which areas seemed to elicit the most intense response in his wife. But when he noticed her small scar, he raised his gaze to her face once again, a slightly pained look in his eyes as his fingers trailed over the slight indent in her skin.

"Elsie," he whispered, suddenly overcome with powerful emotion. "Oh, my love …"

"Shhh, Charlie, don't," she replied softly, brushing her fingertips over his eyelashes to wipe away the trace of his tears. "It's alright. It was never anything serious."

"I know," he said, "but I was so afraid to lose you. It's when I finally admitted to myself that I was still truly in love with you, you know. I just … it makes me regret all the time I wasted," he admitted.

"Me, too," she said, "but we're here now. Together … at last." She reached for his hand and placed it back on her breast, laying her own over it and squeezing his hand with hers. "I've waited a very, very long time for this night, love … please."

Charles smiled at his wife, his face so full of love in that moment that she thought she'd burn up on the spot from the brightness of it. "As you wish, my beloved," he murmured. "If you are sure."

"I have never been so sure," she answered, a twinkle in her eye as she reached down to the waistband of his shorts and gave them a tug. He removed them swiftly and she allowed her gaze to travel downward, appreciating his desire for her.

"Nor have I," he replied, reaching up to untie the ribbon at her waist. He waited only a moment, then divested his wife of her last remaining article of clothing, tossing it somewhere in the general vicinity of the chair. He returned his hand to her leg, inching his fingers slowly up the inside of her thigh until he reached the heat at the very top, producing an unexpectedly loud cry from her mouth as she shifted her body slightly on the mattress, allowing him easier access to his destination.

Elsie closed her eyes, reaching out and unknowingly grasping the bedsheet, feeling her senses sharpen as her desire heightened with every movement of his fingers. He was bringing her to the precipice of some completely foreign place, and the sensation was both exhilarating and empowering. She allowed herself to get caught up in the waves of pleasure that were washing over her, wondering how on earth she'd gone her entire life without ever having experienced anything like this before.

As she caught her breath and came back to her present surroundings, Elsie opened her eyes and saw that she'd somehow pulled sections of the bedsheet up from the mattress, having wound the fabric around her hands at some unidentifiable time. She looked to the side and saw Charles - her loving, attentive, wonderful man - looking down at her with something that bordered on awe, and realized that despite what she'd just experienced she felt horribly, desperately incomplete.

"Charlie, now," she begged, moving her legs to make room for him. "Please, love. I need to be closer to you."

"Closer than this?" he asked, brushing himself against her body. She nodded, reaching up to brush her fingertips across his lips.

"As close as two people can possibly be," she said.

And slowly, lovingly, and gently, her husband finally allowed himself to give in. He captured her lips with his own as they moved together as one, their minds instantly whisked away to a long-ago day in a sunlit field of London. Each felt once again the pull of the other's heart and soul and knew that, at last, nothing but death would ever separate them again.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Elsie opened her eyes slowly, searching for the source of the unknown sound that was assaulting her ears. As she came more clearly into a state of wakefulness she smiled broadly, her teeth gently tugging on her lip as she remembered how, precisely, she came to be laying in this oh-so-comfortable bed, completely unclothed, with the lovely feeling of having her snoring husband tucked in by her side, his arm slung across her body just below her breasts.

She reached her hand up to run her fingers slowly across his arm, feeling the firm muscle beneath his skin and marveling at how a man of size and strength could manage the gentle, delicate touches that she'd experienced just hours before.

She noticed the very moment when he woke, heard how his deep breaths shortened slightly and felt how his body immediately tensed as he realized where he was.

"Hello, Charlie," she whispered.

"Hello. What time is it?" he mumbled.

"Early - the sun's not even up yet."

"Hmm. How are you feeling?"

She sighed softly and reached her arm over to run her fingers through his lovely, silver locks, now mussed and curling this way and that.

"Loved," she said simply. "Completely, totally, and utterly loved." She reached down to kiss his brow, then shifted with him as he rolled her onto her side, tucked his body in behind her, and wrapped her securely in his embrace.

"You are," he whispered, placing one more kiss to her temple. "So very, very much." And, with that, they both drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

And you love me too,

Your thoughts are just for me.

You set my spirit free,

I'm happy that you do.

The book of life is brief

And once a page is read,

All but love is dead

That is my belief ...

Sigh. Epilogue coming shortly, I promise. Please leave me a note and let me know what you thought - I hope I did this chapter justice. It was rather nerve-wracking, I don't mind telling you! xx