The epilogue. A little closure, for them and for us.

Part III – Just Charles and Elsie

'Just Charles and Elsie's secret' stayed just Charles and Elsie's secret for a remarkably long time. They agreed that they would tell everyone when they were ready to be married and retire from Downton and not before. They had waited some twenty years to speak their true affections for each other and they could wait a few years more to have it all done up 'proper.' If anything, the pair enjoyed their rather lengthy and private courtship composed of long-winded love letters (mostly from him), copious amounts of teasing (mostly from her) and a great many stolen kisses in his pantry before bedtime. For the most part they remained Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes, the butler and housekeeper of Downton Abbey, but every once in a while, when they were well and truly alone, they were permitted to be just Charles and Elsie.

They had a few close calls, but they were incredibly careful and in the end there was nothing truly incriminating ever witnessed. They would reflect later that this was a small miracle, but never mind. The only people who whispered questions about the pair of them were the new members of the staff they took on, as they were often unaccustomed to seeing a butler and a housekeeper so close, so perfectly in tune with each other. More than one asked if they were married only to be scoffed at by the older staff for such a ridiculous suggestion. 'That's just the way they are' was the response, 'think nothing of it'. Rumours were squashed without either the butler or the housekeeper having to lift a finger, amusing the two them no end.

Eventually Charles and Elsie decided they wanted to be only Charles and Elsie and it was time for the rest of the house to know. Retirement was looming, and seemed a much more attractive prospect for Charles, knowing that he would spend it happily with her. When they were good and ready the announcement was made, they would be retiring six week hence and they would be married in six and half if anyone would care to come. Naturally, the entire house turned out for the very modest and very happy event, showering them in so many well wishes that it bordered on overwhelming for them both. At one point after the ceremony Charles bemoaned that they ought to have eloped, and almost immediately the Dowager Countess herself came over to congratulate him. After this he elected to be silent on the subject, while his new wife tried diligently not to laugh at him.

Upon their original announcement, unbeknownst initially to the happy couple, the staff set up a betting pool as to how long it had been going on. When Mrs. Patmore finally wheedled the truth out of a begrudging Mrs. Carson everyone was surprised to find out that Daisy had won. Everyone that is, except for Daisy, who never told anyone the reason for her guess. She did, however, ensure that orange juice was served at the wedding breakfast, causing both of the newlyweds to blush and laugh at what they sincerely thought was their own private joke. Daisy wasn't entirely sure what she had done, but the smiles on their faces were more than enough satisfaction for her.

The Carsons, as they were generally referred to together from then on, took up residence in a cottage on the estate, not far from the Abbey itself. It was small, but cozy and very quickly it felt like theirs. Charles never thought he would think of anything other than Downton Abbey as being 'home' but a few weeks into retirement it was already more like home to him than anything he could remember. Elsie found she had entirely forgotten the concept of home until the discovery that home was wherever he was. She could be right at home in Timbuktu so long as he was there with her, but the cottage suited them nicely. It was not far off the road, close enough to the Abbey that they had not-infrequent visitors and giving them easy access to town. Mrs. Carson discovered she quite liked gardening and Mr. Carson developed a penchant for bird watching, a luxury he never thought he'd indulge in, but he soon became quite taken with it. The only thing he was more taken with was his wife, whose laughter and affection he sought morning, noon and night. They delighted in their life together finally free of any inhibition. Now that he was free to shout his love for her from the rooftops if he so wished, he found himself still whispering the words to her in private, like before. The truest depth of his affection was still a secret that only she was privy to, for only she that loved him so deeply back would ever understand.

And every year since that fateful one, when the barriers they'd once built between them had been clumsily smashed away, they poured a tiny, measured amount of vodka into a bit of juice and raised a toast; to health, to love, to happiness. To 'just Charles and Elsie'.

Then, after both pretending to take a sip, they poured it into their potted plant and had a lovely glass of wine instead, because neither of them could actually drink the vile stuff for the rest of their long and happy lives.

~ The End ~