A/N: Well, my intention was to get this out to you Saturday, but Paris happened, and my heart hurts. Vive la Paris.
Also, the chapter was 4000+ words. So I chopped it up.
This is the first chapter that's posted today. One of several.
He should have known something was wrong the moment he walked into the conference with Mr. Napier. Alice was entirely too calm, her attorney too professional. Judge Julian reviewed everything again, including Charles's relationship with Elsie.
He had to fight not to squirm when the judge looked at the notes from Dr. Clarkson and the results of the DNA test confirming that yes, Charles Carson was the father of Elsie Hughes's child.
It was worth enduring the embarrassment when the judge declared that he and Alice's marriage was legally broken.
The only thing left to deal with was the settlement. Charles offered Alice their house, most of the items in it, and a more than generous alimony payment.
In response, her attorney replied that since she was not entitled to any share in Downton (which Charles silently thanked his parents for, for placing the property into a trust), Alice was requesting ownership of the cabin.
All the relief that he had felt was immediately replaced with anger.
She's always hated that place. Always. Even before we were married, she didn't like it.
She wants it simply to spite us.
He fleetingly thought of giving it to her simply to finalize the divorce.
But it meant too much to him. And Elsie.
Alice gave him a little smile across the table, which infuriated him. He refused her request, point-blank.
Her smile widened when another hearing was arranged the following month to discuss it.
000000000000
Eighteen months previously
An hour of splitting logs had not tempered his frustration. His t-shirt was soaked through, and he reluctantly put on his sweatshirt back on again. It would not do to freeze. The sky blazed blue, while around him the orange and red leaves swirled in a kaleidoscope of color.
He and Alice had fought the last weekend he had visited her. He had begged her to come home. She accused him of being needy, and coldly replied that her obligations would keep her in Atlanta until at least Thanksgiving. If not after.
Just thinking about it earlier that morning again had enraged him. He had removed his ring and left it in the glove box of his truck.
Swinging the ax, he let out a bellow. Some thirty feet below him on the slope, two men on the hiking trail looked up in surprise. He gave them a short wave as they passed by.
At the rate you're going, you'll have enough wood to heat the cabin for the next three years.
He paused and leaned on his ax. His breath billowed around him.
It wasn't Alice being away that was torturing him. That fact in itself was another form of torture.
Working for another half an hour, he sat to rest, drinking cold water from his canteen. He hadn't been sitting for long when another hiker came into view. He blinked rapidly along with his suddenly hammering heart.
She delighted in the crunch of leaves under her feet, glad that since she'd left the river, the trail had been a continuous climb. Her breath came out in pants. She wanted to remove her jacket, but knew it was too cold.
At least she'd managed to put a muzzle on her frustration at work. Hiking helped work some of that out. She shook her head. Maybe it had been a bad idea to stop dating, but it wasn't like her heart had been into it.
Forgetting was as impossible as ever.
The creek had split off to her right, with part of it heading down to the river and the other to a small lake she could glimpse through the trees. She stopped to catch her breath, wondering if another trail led there, when she heard her name.
"Elsie?"
She could recognize his voice in her sleep.
He stood above her, hesitating on the side of the hill. She looked up at him, an inquisitive look on her face. Her cheeks were red both with cold and the exertion of her walk. He noticed her fingernails, normally filed perfectly, were so short as to be almost nonexistent. He didn't know she bit her nails. Her eyes darted from him to the cabin further up the hill.
"Hello," she finally said. "I didn't know your cabin was this close to the trail."
"You can't see it from the back porch. The hill hides it from view," he replied, licking his lips. She still had not moved. "It's good to see you."
Why, she wanted to scream. It was all she could do to keep her expression neutral. Truthfully, she was shocked to see him this close after avoiding him for months.
Dark shadows were under his eyes, which only made his nose more prominent. She noticed he wore a belt with his jeans, evidence of his significant weight loss. But it was the look in his eyes that upset her the most. They were dull. Tired.
She felt a surge of anger. If Alice had been there, she would have flown at her. He's not well! Anyone can see it! And you, his wife, don't seem to care at all!
She was glad Beryl had been trying to get him to eat more, not that she had been successful.
"Would you mind if I rested a while here?" she heard herself ask. A minute before, she had been determined to keep on walking.
A smile broke across his face, a gleam appearing in his eyes. "Not at all. Sit here."
He motioned to a tree stump as she clambered up the steep slope. She dropped her backpack on the ground and sat down.
She gratefully took his offered canteen, taking a long drink. The leaves fluttered down around them.
"Thank you," she said. "For the water." Another long moment passed. "How are you?"
He shrugged, his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt. "Well enough." He tried to think of something else to say.
She closed her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was break the peaceful moment, but the memory of their last meeting alone overshadowed everything.
"We need to talk. About what happened."
His mouth went dry. No, his brain shouted. I can't. Because I can't tell you the truth.
"What is there to say?" he asked. His voice cracked. She looked at him sharply.
"I know you were…lonely. That it was an accident. But surely we can move past it by speaking freely."
"I have moved on," he rasped, clearing his throat. "I just wanted to give you space. I didn't want to give you the wrong impression-"
Liar, screamed his brain. You've been avoiding her.
"What impression is that?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "That you wanted to kiss me? Do you think I am the sort of woman who would enjoy being kissed by a married man?"
You've been trying to forget how much you enjoyed it, girl. Without success.
"Of course I didn't want to kiss you," he huffed. "It was a mistake. And you're a woman of high standards. I would never assume any different."
I'm the cad who's been tormented by the thought of you when I'm supposed to be missing my wife.
"Oh, I see," she seethed. "So you used me for your own purposes. And I'm supposed to be soothed by you complimenting my standards?"
Her heart was shattering within her. How does it feel, whispered a voice, to know that while you've been in agony, he was merrily living the last few months as if it never happened?
"That's not fair!" he cried. "I never used you. You were the one who said it was an accident!"
"Because it was," she snapped, standing up. "A convenient accident. For you. And you wonder why I've avoided you? Heaven forbid you 'accidentally' forget you're married again, just in time to gratify yourself at my expense!"
That was a low blow, and deep down, she knew it.
The memory of her with someone else at the Music Festival enraged him, and he spoke without thinking.
"Right, because you never need to worry about upholding any vows," he snarled, hating himself. "Or finding gratification. You can find it wherever you want to! I'm surprised to see you by yourself today. What happened, have you already grown tired of all the men around here?"
She stepped forward and slapped him so hard the sound echoed through the trees. "How dare you," she cried. "It is none of your business if I date a man, or more than one, or none. I suppose you thought you'd take your chance back in April!" she shouted, shaking with anger. "And to think I felt sorry for you! It's no wonder Alice leaves all the time!"
"Get out," he croaked, his face white. He picked up her backpack and flung it at her. "Get off my property! Now!"
She picked it up, shifting it onto her shoulders with an angry snort, her eyes blazing. She half-walked, half-slid down the hill back to the trail. She disappeared quickly through the trees.
Yelling, he picked up the ax and threw it as far as he could. It hit a tree and spun end over end before crashing into the ground a hundred feet away.
TBC…