Ch 15

A/N: The penultimate chapter has arrived, and it's a LONG one! I do hope you all enjoy it. It ties up any loose ends, I think ... well, most of them. I did leave one *teensy* thing for Chapter 16.

You'll note this is still rated "T"... hats off to those of you who are "M" writers but I, alas, am not.

Please pardon any non-traditions that you see in my version of this much-anticipated wedding, as I am most certainly not Alistair Bruce. BUT … this is my head canon, at least until S6 arrives, and I definitely took certain liberties with tradition.

Thanks to silhouettedswallow for several things, primarily for reminding me that no rice or grain needed to be thrown at the lovely couple and that "hot tubs" probably weren't around in 1925 (silly semantic issues). If you ever need a beta, she's really quite good at it.

Check my Spotify for music: username is chelsiesouloftheabbey, playlist is Music of the Heart

(I like the Bette version of "In My Life" better than the Beatles' version ... at least for this story.)

But of all these friends and lovers,

There is no one compares with you

And these memories lose their meaning

When I think of love as something new.

Though I know I'll never ever lose affection

For people and things that went before

I know I'll often stop and think about them,

But in my life,

I love you more.

~"In My Life," Bette Midler

The car pulled up to the front of the church and Elsie gasped – it looked like something out of a fairy tale. Floral arrangements lined the walkway to the door, a dusting of snow remained on the bushes, twinkling in the sun, and a wreath of red and white flowers adorned the doorway. This is real … this is really happening. She'd not felt an ounce of nervousness in the entire time leading up to this day – not through Charles's proposal, not through all the planning, not even while telling the staff – but suddenly her heart was beating ferociously in her chest and she felt as if she would faint. Taking a few deep breaths she tried to steady herself, wishing with all her might that Charles were with her in the car instead of meeting her at the altar.*

Anna squeezed Elsie's hand, trying to calm her. When the car stopped Mrs. Patmore and Anna exited first, and Anna headed inside to let Tom Branson know that they had arrived. When they returned, Elsie caught Tom's eye through the car window and noticed an expression she couldn't quite read pass across his face. Tom opened the car door and extended his hand. She grasped it tightly in hers and alighted from the vehicle.

As he looked at Elsie standing before him, Tom found himself speechless. He marveled at this woman who'd been a second mother to him at Downton; she'd listened to his fears and had understood and, in her own way, supported his interest in politics. When he'd had that astonishingly awful mess with Edna, she'd even picked up the pieces and sent the woman packing. But most of all, she had helped him mend his broken heart when he'd lost his beloved Sybil. Seeing her now, looking so beautiful, happy, and – yes – nervous, Tom realized how very, very much he would miss her when he and Sybbie moved to America.

Tom gave her the most encouraging smile he could manage and spoke at last. "You are glowing, Mrs. Hughes. Wait until Mr. Carson sees you."

Elsie nodded, still frightened beyond belief. "So you think I'll do, Mr. Branson?"

"I have no doubt that 'you'll do' as you put it. You'll do very nicely indeed. And from this moment forward, you must promise to call me Tom." He helped her remove her coat and placed it on the seat of the car, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. Mrs. Patmore handed Elsie her bouquet before proceeding to the doors with Anna. Elsie was vaguely aware that it was cold out, but she was burning up inside with overflowing emotions. Just get up there, by his side, and you'll be fine.

As the doors opened, Elsie glimpsed the inside of the church and gasped. The pews are FULL. Is everyone we've ever met in this church? The thought did nothing to assuage her fears and Tom, sensing this, gave her hand a little squeeze. "You're very well thought of indeed, Mrs. Hughes … you and Mr. Carson are both loved by everyone."

And just when Elsie didn't think anything else could shock her, the sound of bagpipes made its way out of the church, announcing the start of the processional. There wasn't supposed to be any music …

Shaking her head Elsie managed, once again, to hold in her tears, but only by the thinnest margin. She knew immediately whose decision the bagpipes had been. The family had contributed everything else, from the food to the attire and decoration, but Elsie knew in her heart that the music was a gift from Charles, another nod to her Scottish heritage. It was his message that he recognized and honored the individuality she was bringing to their marriage just as he'd always respected it in their working relationship and friendship. The traditional music of her homeland paid homage to her core identity and she knew, as she listened to its hauntingly lovely tune, that Charles truly valued her for all that she was – elements of her past included.

Elsie was grateful that Anna and Mrs. Patmore were processing down the aisle ahead of her – she still felt nervous and it gave her a bit more time to center herself. She was breathless upon seeing Charles at the front of the church and spared a moment thinking of how wonderfully handsome he looked, even from the little of him she could see. She noticed that his new morning suit was grey in color, matching her dress almost exactly. Then, as Anna and Mrs. Patmore reached the front of the church, Elsie saw Charles turn slightly, enabling him to watch her every step out of the corner of his eye as she proceeded to finally, at long last, take her place by his side. Nothing but death will ever separate us again. It was the best feeling she'd ever had. The beautiful tones of the bagpipes soothed her, and when the tune changed from attendants' to bridal processional, she nodded to Tom: I'm ready …

As her eyes latched onto Charles's gaze Elsie felt the remainder of her anxiety completely disappear. He was there, waiting for her, strong and sure as he'd always been. She felt as if they were the only two people in the church. Elsie found it strange that the sound of the bagpipes seemed to be fading as she got closer to them, but a new song – one that she felt was being sung to her by Charles himself, even though his slightly-parted lips were unmoving – had taken up residence in her mind and heart.

Finally arriving at the altar, Tom leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Today, the best days of your life are about to begin." He squeezed her hand gently and then handed it to Charles, silently taking his seat and sending up a prayer of thanks that Elsie and Charles had made their way to one another at last.

Standing at attention for years had done nothing to prepare Charles for the sensation of standing in front of the church today. As butler it had always been his job to fade into the background, appearing when needed and invisible when not. But today he could feel everyone's eyes on his back as he tried to keep his hands steady. Looking at Mr. Bates standing by his side, he gave a small smile that was returned in kind. This is ridiculous! Charles expected to feel a myriad of things today, but the worries he'd had about the kiss and the dancing were overshadowed completely by his nervousness in standing before just about everyone he knew. He needed Elsie there, beside him, before he'd feel truly calm. The blessing was that he wasn't focused on the wedding night anymore – he wasn't completely sure he'd make it through everything that was to come before it.

Suddenly – finally! – he heard the church doors creak open. Even though he'd been expecting them, the sound of the bagpipes startled him. He turned slightly and saw Mrs. Patmore and Anna making their way slowly up the aisle. He caught a glimpse of Tom Branson standing just outside the doors Charles knew Elsie was by his side, but he couldn't actually see her and for a brief, ludicrous moment he wondered where she was. But, just then, the other ladies walked forward a bit and he caught her presence out of the corner of his eye and let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. Charles hadn't actually doubted she'd come, but feeling and seeing her presence at the church calmed him at last.

Charles turned his body a bit, enabling him to keep his eyes on his bride. He realized that wasn't exactly the way things were done, but the way he figured it he only had one wedding and, by God, he was going to watch his beloved Elsie walk this path, the one he realized he'd been waiting at the end of for the last twenty years. One look at her face told Charles everything he needed to know: She's nervous. You're going to have to be the strong one, Charlie old boy. He tried to put as much comfort and love as possible into his gaze as he watched her move ever so slowly toward him.

Charles couldn't hear the bagpipes anymore; instead, he was listening to a new song that was singing in his heart, one that began its beautiful melody the moment his eyes locked on Elsie's. He didn't notice the tear that slid down his cheek, he didn't hear the words that Tom Branson whispered in her ear, and he barely heard the Reverend Travis telling him to take Elsie's hand as Mr. Branson put it in his. She was beside him at last, forever, and Charles reveled in the fact that nothing but death would ever separate them again.

The ceremony passed in the blink of an eye. Charles's voice carried his vows across the church; Elsie said hers softly enough that only the attendants and the front row of family members could hear. Neither of them noticed the Dowager smirk as Elsie got to the word "obey," but Charles did involuntarily chuckle. And then, finally, the crucial moment had arrived: the kiss. Looking into each other's eyes, Charles and Elsie had a brief, silent conversation as they were accustomed to doing:

I love you.

I love you too.

Be careful, Elsie.

Remember who is sitting in this church, Charles.

With a smile he reached forward and took her face in his hand, and Elsie pressed her cheek to his palm so gently that no one else would even notice. Each of them had their lips barely parted, but it was enough: as he brushed his lips ever-so-gently against hers, Charles and Elsie exchanged a sweet breath, as if their souls were connecting at last. It was the most powerful kiss they'd exchanged in all their time together.

"I love you," Elsie whispered.

"It's always only been you," Charles whispered back.

And with that, they clasped hands and Elsie found her bouquet being handed back to her. As the recessional music of the bagpipes started Charles and Elsie Carson made their way back down the aisle, joined together as they always were meant to be. They snuck in one more (not so chaste) kiss outside, then hugged and shook hands with Anna, Mrs. Patmore and Mr. Bates before preparing to receive and thank their guests.

As guests started pouring out of the church, Elsie was ever so grateful that Anna mentioned having a hearty breakfast.

"We're going to be here for quite a while, Mrs. Carson," her husband whispered.

"Yes, I'm so glad Anna encouraged me to eat a hearty breakfast," she smiled back, loving the sound of the 'Mrs. Carson' that came from his lips. One look at Charles's face told her that Mr. Bates hadn't given him the same sage advice.

Her laugh could be heard all the way back inside the church.

The family and most of the staff had returned to the house and yet guests were still pouring out of the church. Charles and Elsie were amazed at the outpouring of love and friendship they'd received: it truly seemed as if the entire town had come to the wedding ceremony. Elsie met two butlers that she'd heard Charles mention in passing – one of whom traveled from London for the event. Charles learned the names of several women with whom Elsie did business in town: one who makes the finest lace, another who bakes the chocolate shortbread that Elsie often has tucked away in her desk for when they take tea in her parlour.

At the very end of the line, Charles saw a man he'd never laid eyes on before. Elsie was chatting with the woman just in front of him, and when she bid the woman good-bye she looked up and gasped. She couldn't believe it.

"Hello, Elsie," came the man's soft voice.

"Joe." Elsie was stunned.

Joe? Joe BURNS? Charles thought. What in hell is HE doing here?

Joe took Elsie's hands in his and leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek. "You look lovely, my dear," Joe said quietly, a clear look of admiration in his eyes.

Elsie wasn't sure what to say. She could sense Charles's discomfort (and, oh yes, some anger …) but knew she could do nothing to address it while still holding a polite conversation.

Charles stood by in horror, trying his level best not to say anything that would offend his bride.

"Thank you," she managed. "However did you know?"

Joe smiled. "I'm expanding the farm back home and I was in town last week to consult with one of your local farmers. I heard talk in the local of a big, upcoming wedding. Once I heard the word "housekeeper," I knew it must be you. I had to come and see for myself … had to meet the man who finally managed to get Elsie Hughes to the altar."

Elsie just stood there, not knowing what to say. Memories of her courtship with Joe came flooding back; much later, she'd think it strange that none of those memories involved the second time he'd proposed but rather the whirlwind, passionate courtship of the first. Both of them had been so young, so sure they knew what it meant to be in love, so sure they'd be each other's only one … and then came the heartbreak, as Elsie told Joe she couldn't marry him, that she needed steady work and income and that she hoped he'd be happy one day. She'd chosen her way, and she'd shattered his heart. When he returned the second time she'd felt a familiar tug, but by then she was so in love with Charles that there had really been no question at all she'd turn him down again.

Elsie realized now that over the decades she'd spent living and working with Charles she'd developed feelings for him that completely eclipsed anything she ever had with Joe. But the memories still flooded her mind as if everything had happened forty days ago instead of forty years in the past. Oh, Elsie … this is not the time.

To their credit, neither Joe nor Charles commented on Elsie's sudden, flushed appearance. The two men just stood there, sizing each other up, neither saying a word for a full minute. Elsie felt as though time had stopped, and she was terrified of what was about to happen; she was frightened for Joe, because Charles had thunder in his eyes, and she was terrified for herself, because she knew that any unspoken questions Charles may have had about the depth of her relationship with Joe had just been answered. Damn.

But by the grace of God and a little luck, Joe just turned to Charles and extended his hand.

"Congratulations, Mr. Carson. I must say, I was never sure why my Elsie turned me down that second time, but I can see now that I didn't stand a chance."

Charles bristled at the words 'my Elsie,' but managed to calm himself down by taking a few deep breaths, feeling some of his anger leave him at last. Shaking Joe's hand firmly, Charles nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Burns."

Joe turned back to Elsie, who was clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation. "Take care of yourself, Els. I wish you many days of love and happiness ahead."

Elsie looked at Charles apprehensively, but he just gave her a loving smile. Turning back to Joe, she said, "Thank you, Joe. I appreciate that. This really is where I was always meant to be."

A look of sadness passed across Joe's face, but Elsie suspected she was the only one who noticed it. Even after all these years, she still knew him so well. He kissed her cheek once again and bid them farewell.

Elsie took Charles's hands in hers, raising them to her lips. "My darling, darling husband … I believe we've a breakfast to attend." And, after a pause, she chuckled. "And some dancing to do!"

Charles just looked at her adoringly then leaned over for a kiss. This was no innocent kiss; this was a kiss full of all the passion he could muster, his own wordless testament to how blessed he felt that Elsie had chosen to spend the rest of her life with him.

She returned the kiss with equal measure and, after a few minutes, managed to pull herself away.

"It's always been you, Charles … always."

He nodded, tears in his eyes as the rest of his discomfort evaporated.

Elsie and Charles arrived at the house, where Mr. Barrow was waiting outside. The car pulled around and he opened the door. "Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. Carson. His Lordship and Her Ladyship would like for you to enter through the front, if you please."

Charles was noticeably uncomfortable with the idea, but Elsie nudged him. "Oh, get on with it! One time isn't going to kill you."

As they walked into the Great Hall, they saw all the staff standing at attention. Lord and Lady Grantham approached them, him offering a handshake to Charles and her giving a kiss to Elsie's cheek.

"We extend our congratulations once again, Mr. and Mrs. Carson. It is our pleasure to host your wedding breakfast this afternoon. Now, I believe some dancing is in order?" Lady Grantham said.

Charles looked at Elsie and she placed her hand in his. "Shall we, Mrs. Carson?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied.

Charles led his wife onto the dance floor, trying to keep a respectable distance between their bodies, aware of the eyes of all their subordinates following them as they moved to the center of the hall. As the music began, he placed his hand on Elsie's waist, and she heard his breath hitch, causing her to shoot him a mischievous smile. Ahhh … he's figured THAT out, then. Good …

Charles raised his eyebrows as he noticed the way the dress felt against her skin as opposed to against the whalebone of the corset he'd assumed would be there. He swallowed hard as he saw his wife's wink. This woman is going to drive me mad!

Smiling at one another, they waltzed across the floor as if they'd been dancing together their entire lives when, in point of fact, this was the first dance they'd ever shared. The Servants' Ball had always opened with dances with Lord and Lady Grantham, but then Elsie and Charles would spend the remainder of those evenings in a mostly supervisory capacity, occasionally dancing with other members of the family but never with each other. They reveled in the feel of being in one another's arms now, each proud that they managed to keep their actions respectable in front of everyone who was watching.

As the afternoon wore on, Elsie and Charles made their way through the crowd, thanking everyone once again for joining them on their special day. At one point, it dawned on Elsie that Anna was conspicuously absent. She approached Mr. Bates, and quietly asked if Anna was alright.

"She's fine, Mrs. Carson," he replied, noticing how she smiled at the new name. "I sent her for a lie down in one of the maid's rooms because her feet were getting sore. Just a month and a half to go now, according to the doctor."

Elsie nodded. "Yes, I'm surprised she made it this long before heading up, actually. Do watch out for her while I'm gone, please."

Mr. Bates just nodded. "I plan to, Mrs. Carson. And thank you for your concern. You mean the world to my wife … to both of us."

"Mrs. Carson, it's almost time to leave," came Mrs. Patmore's voice. Elsie moved away from Mr. Bates and approached the cook, who said, "You should head up to change, you know."

"Yes, thank you," she replied. "Care to help me get out of this dress? Anna's resting."

"It would be my pleasure. Daisy seems to have everything in hand."

Elsie found Charles and told him she was heading up to her room to change. "We need to leave soon if we're to make our train," she whispered in his ear. He nodded, smiling at her as she walked away.

"You know, I'd be surprised if you weren't able to retire soon yourself," Elsie mused as she and Mrs. Patmore headed toward the servants' stairs. "Daisy seems to always have everything in hand lately. You've done such a remarkable job with her, you know."

The cook nodded. "Who'd have thought, though, when she first arrived?" She stopped outside Elsie's bedroom door, her eyes meeting those of her friend. "You're probably right about my retirement, you know. With the two of you gone it will be lonely here … different. It will be the end of an era, and my old bones are tired indeed. I'm hoping I make it to the end of the year, to be perfectly honest."

Elsie gave her a brief hug. "It's funny … I never thought I'd be able to retire, and for many years I wasn't sure I'd even want to. But life sure can change in the blink of an eye," she said. "Ach, that's enough serious talk for one day … I need to change into something more appropriate for a train ride. No sense being late for my own honeymoon!"

Mrs. Patmore laughed out loud. "Heavens, no! Whatever you do, Elsie Carson, don't you dare keep that man waiting any longer than you already have."

Elsie blushed, heading into the room. "Believe me, I don't intend to!"

Amidst cries of "We'll see you soon!" and a rather loud "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" from their favorite cook, the car departed, its occupants reveling in a few moments of blessed silence as they pulled away from the house. Charles leaned over to fix a stray piece of hair that had fallen into Elsie's face, tucking it back into the twist from which it had fallen.

Elsie looked at her husband with unabashed love in her eyes. "I cannot believe we're here at last," she said. "I never dreamed I'd be sitting here next to you as your wife. Not in my wildest imaginings did I ever think it could actually happen."

Charles just sighed deeply, feeling more content than he ever had in his life. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her toward him, placing a kiss to the top of her head. "Nor did I, Elsie. I've been looking forward to this day forever. And now a week in London with you, a chance to see it all through your eyes. You've not spent much time there, have you?"

"Not really. I've only been a couple of times, and even then I was usually working," Elsie replied. "I'm counting on you to be my guide this week, my dear." She looked up at Charles and furrowed her brow, wondering why she'd felt him stiffen, suddenly seeming uncomfortable by her words.

"Elsie," he said softly, "I have to confess something to you." He hesitated, and Elsie unconsciously began niggling her bottom lip in concern. "Um … well, you see … in some ways, I think I'm going to be counting on you to be my guide this week as well," he whispered. "Particularly … tonight."

She just looked at him, confused for a moment, but then as she saw the pleading look in his eyes she understood. "Oh, um … I see." She smiled softly, "Well, then … " Another pause. "You mean you've never … ? Not even with Alice?"

Charles just shook his head as she looked at him in wonder. "No, never. I'd thought it best to wait, you know … and then she was gone … and then there was no one else … and then, of course, I met you."

"Well, then," repeated Elsie softly. She knew after their run-in with Joe that Charles had made certain assumptions, and she felt the need to get everything out in the open. "I don't have all that much experience to fall back on either … you should know it was only once, and it was a very long time ago." She hesitated, then spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear her. "The feelings I had then aren't even in the same universe as the ones I have for you. I think this is going to be a new experience for us both … we'll guide each other, alright?"

Her words settled him as she'd hoped they would. As they pulled up in front of the train station, Charles led Elsie from the car to the platform, his hand firmly placed at the small of her back as the chauffeur transferred their bags to the porter. There were two other couples seated in their car, but that was fine with Elsie. It forced them to keep a sense of propriety in their behavior. She could feel a sense of something building between them since they'd danced together at the house, and it had flamed even more strongly by the end of their conversation in the back of the car. Nodding to the others and wishing them a good afternoon, Elsie and Charles took their seats, close enough for their arms and legs to be touching. Elsie smiled at the glint of silver that graced her finger, the outward symbol that their physical closeness wouldn't be questioned by anyone. They sat quietly for most of the ride, each eagerly looking forward to the moment they'd be alone at their hotel in London.

It was a very long train ride.

The gentleman at the reception desk handed over a key; a bellhop delivered the bags to their room. Charles and Elsie had the foresight (and self-control) to stop into the restaurant adjacent to the hotel for a leisurely dinner, making small talk as they held hands across the table. Charles had managed a few bites at the house, but they were both starving after the train ride. A bottle of champagne, a delicious meal and a shared dessert later, they made their way back to the hotel.

As soon as the door to their room closed, Charles and Elsie fell into one another's embrace. No words had been spoken but suddenly they both realized that experience, or a lack thereof, wasn't going to matter at all: they were on equal footing in this new way of being together, an experience that was instantly so natural to them both yet would prove transcendental beyond their wildest imagination.

Buttons were reverently, ever-so-slowly undone as fingertips grazed gently across pale skin, chased by soft, burning kisses; faint rustlings of fabric were heard as layer upon layer of cloth was lovingly peeled away, soft sounds emitting from cotton and silk that cascaded down into pools on the floor – pools that would go unnoticed until morning in uncharacteristic, messy piles. Fully realizing the value of their well-developed ability to communicate non-verbally, Elsie marveled at the blessing of her husband's ever-present attention to detail, while Charles appreciated more than ever his wife's calm but intense way of gently, lovingly caring for him.

Time seemed to slow as they reveled in a new, heightened awareness of their senses: each finally seeing to the minutest detail all the physical aspects of the other; each hearing the other's slight gasps, sighs, and heartbeat; each touching the other with hands that felt as though they'd finally found their way home. They were amazed – thrilled – at the power of innately understanding and anticipating the other's reactions as they discovered new, wonderful ways of kissing, holding, and caressing. Both were astonished at the effects caused by whispered adorations. They noticed a heightened awareness of and appreciation for one other's bodies, of a kiss placed here, or a nuzzle there.

Everything was familiar, yet new; peaceful, but exhilarating.

They realized at some point that the songs they'd always heard playing in their own hearts had just been background music; the tunes were still familiar, but until tonight the music had been stilted, perhaps lonely, and definitely unfinished. Now each could hear those lonely notes finding their way among the delicate steps of this new dance, meandering in delicate trails around one another until finally harmonizing into one intricate and beautiful score. They finally found in each other the part of themselves that had always been missing, minutes turning into hours as stars blinked in the far-away London sky.

The music built slowly but steadily, singing its love through tender ministrations and loving touches, in powerful looks, in heated kisses, and in passionate utterances that neither ever expected to feel pass their own lips or hear spoken in their ears. And just when neither thought the song could become any sweeter, the sound of the symphony they'd been creating reached one crescendo, then another, amazing them both with its tender, loving power before slowly releasing them, the sound gradually fading away into peaceful, reverent words of love that were whispered between soft kisses as Elsie and Charles lay in each other's arms and drifted off to sleep – together, at last.

Charles awoke slowly, a soft but unfamiliar sound coming to his ears. He opened his eyes, noting the ray of sunlight creeping in the window. As he started to pull his mind from its deep slumber, he remembered that he was not in his room at Downton, but rather in a luxurious hotel in London, in an enormous bed that was soft and comfortable. Everything came back to him in a rush, and with a blissful sigh he realized that the unfamiliar noise he'd heard was coming from his wife, who was currently curled up next to his body, her head resting on his chest as she softly snored. Charles reached over and placed the gentlest kiss to her head before drifting back to sleep.

Hours later, Charles woke again. He looked over to where Elsie lay, astonished that she was, in fact, still sleeping. Didn't take us long to break THAT habit, he thought with a smile. Although we WERE very tired. Moving silently as he was accustomed to doing, Charles rose from the bed and headed to the large en-suite bathroom.

He was happy to see an enormous bathtub, a luxury that the servants' quarters at Downton did not provide. He ran a bath and stretched out, his muscles pleasantly sore after last night's … activities. He shook his head, remembering how much worry he'd had only to have it all vanish in one blink of Elsie's darkened, lovely eyes. He reclined in the tub, reliving the wonder of those precious moments and thinking of how happy he was that they'd share many, many more of them over the rest of this lifetime.

Elsie uncurled herself and opened her eyes, remembering at once where she lay. She reached over to where her husband had slept, and was startled to find him missing. She realized a second later that he had been in the bath as she listened to the water draining and the sounds of him dressing and then brushing his teeth. She spared a moment to think of how new and wonderful those sounds were … whispers of the familiar nature of marriage. She thought it was funny that she'd considered the bigger aspects, such as living together in the cottage and retiring every night to the bed they would share, but she hadn't spared a thought for the tiny details that would fill the cracks in between: clothes hanging together in the wardrobe, aftershave and razor alongside bottles of lotion, cooking for each other, quiet nights by the fire as they read – sometimes aloud to one another, sometimes not. Elsie found that those images filled her heart even more than the passion of the previous night … but only just.

She sighed and laughed to herself as she remembered how apprehensive Charles had been on the ride to the train station, how concerned he'd been that he'd not be able to please her in that most intimate aspect of their marriage. She remembered how she'd been afraid to tell him she was slightly less novice than he, and then shook her head as she remembered it had not mattered one bit; she and Charles had been dancing around one another for decades without ever touching (much), and that familiarity and their slowly building love had washed over them last night – each touch a new feeling, each whisper of encouragement or guidance a gift, each discovery they made a blessing as they learned the final steps of that dance. Elsie found that she was looking forward to perfecting that dance as the years went on. Most definitely …

She languished in bed for a while, listening to Charles move about in the next room. She was puzzled a few moments later when she heard the water running once more.

"Good morning, love," came his voice from the doorway. Elsie sat up in bed, a bit startled, and turned to face him. His eyebrows shot up as he saw the sheet fall away from her, and she blushed and gathered it up.

"No, please ... don't," he said, shaking his head. "Please."

She raised an eyebrow, and scooted over to the edge of the bed to get up.

Charles approached her, intending to give her a soft 'good morning' kiss; somehow, it lasted longer than that.

"Good morning, Mr. Carson," she said, breaking away as she listened to the water. "Why does the entire room smell of lavender?"

"Ahhh … that is for you, Mrs. Carson." Oh, I love saying that. "It's a new bath foam, a suggestion from a good friend who felt it was the duty of the best man to educate me on ways to ... ahem ... pamper my wife." He led her into the bathroom, where Elsie's eyes fell upon a deep tub full of very inviting looking bubbles. "Um … how do you feel this morning?"

Elsie chuckled. "Well, I am understandably a bit sore, which I certainly don't mind at all, and languishing in that tub seems like a fantastic idea. I believe I've discovered a couple of muscles I didn't know I had … "

Charles laughed, "As have I. It may be helpful to … exercise them more frequently in the future?"

Elsie wrapped her arms around him for a moment, sighing most happily. "I wholeheartedly agree, Mr. Carson. We have years to make up for, after all."

Charles helped her into the tub, wishing now that he'd waited for her instead of going first … You've got all the time in the world, Charlie boy … no need to rush her now. "May I wash your hair?" he asked softly.

Elsie was surprised at the request, but nodded. Charles pulled a chair in from the bedroom and placed it behind where she reclined in the tub. He marveled at the length of her hair as he untangled the mess it ended up in last night and brushed it out slowly as she relaxed. He loved its fullness and softness, and thought for a moment of all he'd been missing never having touched it all these years. He'd always thought Elsie attractive, goodness knows, but running his fingers slowly through the tresses made her seem so much more feminine to him, and it pleased him greatly to realize that this was one experience (one of many …) that would be his and his alone.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Mmm-hmm. This is lovely," she said as she sat forward, tipping her head back while he poured warm water through her hair. She reached for the soap but found he already had some in his hands. "Where did that one come from?"

"It was part of the 'how to care for your wife' package," he chuckled. "I do believe that Mr. Bates-"

"John, dear," she interrupted.

"Yes, I do believe that John figured that, due to the autumnal nature of our romance, a bit of time-saving suggestions were needed," he chuckled. "Not that I'm complaining – I'm thoroughly enjoying every moment of pampering you, love."

"Remind me to thank the man," Elsie sighed, relishing the feeling of his hands massaging her scalp. "I could get used to this."

Charles rinsed her hair thoroughly, putting kisses on her shoulders and the back of her neck between each cupful of water.

Sigh … I suppose we have to eat at some point. "I'm going to leave you for a bit, love, and nip downstairs to find us some breakfast. You relax, and I'll be back as soon as I can." Standing up, Charles dried his hands and rolled his shirtsleeves back down.

"Please hurry," she purred, her eyes drowsy once again as she reclined in the tub again.

"No worry there," came his soft reply.

Elsie drained the tub and got out, immediately cursing herself for not having actually brought any clothing into the bathroom. She wrapped in a towel, leaving her hair unbraided so that it could dry in the warm air by the fire. When she opened her suitcase, she came upon the lovely gown that Anna had given her. Oh, why not? She put it on, amazed at how well it hugged her body. God bless you, Anna …

Elsie hung her clothing and reached for Charles's bag, noticing it lay open already. She starting hanging his things, and when she reached in to pull out his pajamas (new ones for him too, I see …) a lovely wooden box fell out of the bundle. She was intrigued, but she didn't want to snoop. She remembered him mentioning another heirloom that went along with the pendant and ring that were now hers. She took a moment to appreciate the skill involved in the carving of the wood, its surface resembling soft waves of water that ran with the grain of the wood. She lay it on his nightstand, figuring he'd show its contents to her when he was ready.

Charles finally made his way back to the room, almost dropping the tray as his eyes fell upon his wife in her new … attire. She took the tray from his hands without saying a word, smiling her thanks at the huge amount of food it contained: eggs, toast, rashers of bacon, bangers and tea.

Neither of them complained later that the food had gone cold by the time they got around to eating it.

As morning turned to afternoon, Elsie managed to convince her husband that it would be a good idea to actually get dressed. She wanted to see some of the city while they had the chance and had an unspoken desire to walk through its streets holding his hand. After years of loving him from afar, followed by months where most touches were not only forbidden in public but ill-advised due to the effect they produced, she felt a push to take advantage of their relative anonymity in the city. There would be people they didn't know milling about at museums, in the park, in restaurants and more, and no one would be paying any attention to her or Charles. It was an unusual situation in which to find themselves; they were two people who'd spent most of their lives inside and surrounded by the same people day in and day out. She couldn't wait.

They spent time walking along the river, stopping in at a couple of shops to purchase gifts for the Bates and for Mrs. Patmore, wanting to thank them for their support over these last months and for participating in their wedding. Elsie also insisted on purchasing a gift for Tom Branson, and Charles selected some soft candies for Miss Sybbie. Of course he'd pick out the sweets, Elsie thought. It was a peaceful, restful afternoon, very unlike most they'd spent over the course of their lives. Both Charles and Elsie felt the need to take in everything about this precious time away, knowing they'd need to file it in their minds for those times when the hustle and bustle of their day-to-day lives became too much; they were intentionally making memories that would see them through until the day they could both retire.

"Charles, I think I need to sit for a while," Elsie said. "It's about time for tea, and I could use a hot cuppa." While it was a clear, sunny day, it was definitely chilly out, and Charles wholeheartedly agreed. They found a small tea shoppe, and took a relatively secluded table in the back. When the server brought the tea and some sandwiches, Elsie automatically poured both cups as she'd done for years, allowing Charles to sit back and watch her silently. She looked up at him, catching his gaze, and smiled.

"You are the loveliest thing I've ever seen," Charles said quietly. "I've had so many moments today where I've almost had to pinch myself. I can't believe we're here, together, married, and that it's not a dream."

Elsie blushed at the comment, her eyes misting as she nodded. "Me, too." She paused, then added, "It's a dream come true for me too, you know … all those years wondering, loving you secretly, then trying to discover if you felt the same, trying to lead you into I don't even know what … " she trailed off.

"I needed it," he said wryly. "When I think of all the wasted time … "

"No." Elsie shook her head forcefully, brushing the tear from the corner of her eye. "Not one word, Charles Carson. No regrets. Our time has not been wasted. We've had over twenty years of knowing each other, of living together, many of them working side by side and presiding over what I privately consider as our own brood. We now have more wonderful years ahead of us, where we'll spend time discovering new things and new ways of being together. I won't be able to bear it if you spend them wishing for what might have been instead of looking ahead at what can be."

Charles sat back and looked at her in awe, then finally nodded. "Okay. I promise."

Elsie reached over and squeezed his hand, and they each spent a few quiet minutes eating and sipping their tea. Elsie took in the appearance of the shop, its spotless interior registering in the housekeeper part of her mind. Charles spent his time taking in his wife's appearance, noticing that she looked … different. I can't quite put my finger on it …

Elsie saw him staring. "Penny for them, Mr. Carson?"

He smiled. "I was just trying to figure out … there's something different about you, but I can't think of what it might be."

Elsie smiled. "It could be the result of the best night's sleep I've had since I was a wee babe," she said softly. She was proud of the flush that crept up his face. Oh, yes … very proud indeed of that …

"Perhaps. I do think we'll both be looking a bit … healthier … in the future. How ironic, given our ages," he chuckled.

Placing her tea aside, Elsie addressed the topic she'd been keeping tucked in the back of her mind until the wedding was over. "Charles, I have something to discuss with you."

His mind immediately went to all things awful: health scares, her past, unhappiness. She quickly calmed his fears. "Nothing bad. Actually, it's something rather wonderful," she said.

"Oh?"

"You may remember me talking about a certain farm in Argyll … " she began.

Charles's eyes darkened, and he looked down at the table, thinking back to her story and trying to stuff down the feelings of helplessness and rage that her story had produced in him. "Yes, how could I not?" he said quietly.

Elsie took a deep breath. "Well … you see … I've sold it."

Her husband's head shot up. "You've what?"

"I've sold it."

"But … Elsie, you said nothing to me about this."

"No, I didn't," she replied, now nervous that he was upset with her … she'd expected a happy reaction to the news, given how it would change their financial future. "I meant it as a wonderful surprise, actually."

Charles noticed the faint break in her voice, something no one else would have even picked up on, but he knew his wife so very well. "Elsie, I'm not upset, exactly … just puzzled."

"I had to get rid of it. I decided the day I went back that selling would be the first thing I did when I returned. On my next half-day I spoke with Tom Branson and asked his advice. He put me in contact with a real estate agent who handled the entire process. I know what the farm was worth years ago, and the buyer paid significantly more than that figure – I gather he wants to develop it somehow, divide it up. I couldn't care less, really, as long as the graveyard remains undisturbed." She rattled off a figure to Charles, who was shocked at the amount.

"Very well done, my dear!" he exclaimed.

"It changes things for us considerably, doesn't it?" She paused. "I feel wonderful about that, like I'm actually contributing to our future."

Charles looked at her, suddenly aware that they'd ventured into a territory that was about more than just the sale of a property she'd come to despise. "Elsie, how can you possibly say that?"

She looked up at him, incredulous, but managed, "How can I not? Charles, I brought nothing to this partnership! Without your savings, your investments, the cottage that you provided, where would we be?"

Charles shook his head, overwhelmed with sadness for the guilt she still carried but unable to fathom how she had come to such a gross misunderstanding of their situation. "My darling Elsie, without your patience, your kind words, your hand reaching out to me that day at the beach, where would we be? The money, while necessary, would be inconsequential without you, without your steady push and influence."

Elsie pondered his words, finally understanding what he was trying to convey. She knew it was true, knew he'd never have come to her offering a relationship, a marriage, if she'd not been working away at him for years. And she was immensely proud at his happiness over the price she'd gotten for the farm.

"Perhaps," she allowed, squeezing his hand in hers. "I do know how much this changes things for us," she said again, "and I'm happy about that. I'd like to discuss some details for the cottage renovations while we're here in London, away from the distractions of work and the family. Then when we return, and you retire, we'll have a plan to move forward."

"I can't imagine anything happier than planning our future … you must know that."

Elsie looked at him suddenly. She had an amused glint in her eye that made Charles incredibly wary, and he noticed with a start that the toe of her shoe was making its way up his calf. "Nothing happier at all? I wonder … how long, in your estimation, will it take us to walk back to our hotel, Charles?"

Charles laughed, tossed a couple of coins on the table, and stood. He held his hand out to her and helped her from her chair, then assisted as she put her coat on. "Too long, if you ask me."

Much later, Elsie and Charles were relaxing in their luxurious bed, his back to the pillows against the headboard and her back against his chest. Remembering something, she turned to look at him. "Charles," she began, "what is in that lovely, wooden box I found in your bag?"

She felt his "Hm … you didn't look?" as it reverberated through his chest into her back. He reached over to the nightstand and took the box, handing it to Elsie.

"No," she replied simply. Then, "It looked like it might be something … personal. I didn't want to pry."

She felt rather than saw his smile. "Go ahead, open it."

Elsie lifted the lid back and gasped. "Oh, Charles … " she said, lifting out a very lovely, very old pocket watch. She laid the box on the bed near her leg and turned the watch over slowly in her hand. "Oh!"

"Yes, it matches yours almost exactly."

The front of the watch had a thistle on it, identical to the one Elsie had worn around her neck save for the blue stone – that part was silver in the thistle on the watch, no stone present.

"It's lovely. Your father's, I gather?"

"Yes, it was. I remember him carrying it always, and like the items that you now own it was handed down through several generations of my family. My great-great-grandmother was Scottish, you see, and married an Englishman. It was quite the scandal in that day, but I gather she was much like you." He smirked. "She went after what she wanted, consequences be damned."

Elsie swatted his arm playfully, but said nothing.

"I've no idea how they managed it – I gather he had a bit of money – but I know he had a jeweler make the watch, pendant and ring at the same time. The thistle matches identically, of course, and the design around the ring was meant to match the leaves."

Elsie looked at the ring that now adorned her finger and gasped. "I didn't see it before, but now I can't imagine how."

"I remember my Pa having the watch after Mama had passed, but a week or two after he died I looked for it and couldn't find it. I'd always assumed David had stolen it, but apparently not."

Elsie was confused for a moment, but then it dawned on her. "The Dowager, of course. This is the box she mentioned … I had no idea what she was talking about."

He nodded. "I wondered if she mentioned it to you, but you said nothing and so I figured she hadn't. Lady Mary paid me a visit awhile back, on an errand, I guess you could say. She brought me this box, with a message: 'It's time.' I wasn't sure what that meant, but then I opened the lid. You see, the box itself was my Pa's – he'd whittled it as a gift for Mama one year, having no money but wanting her to have something lovely. I remember stumbling upon him behind the house as he was working away at it and how proud I was that he swore me to secrecy, trusting me not to tell her."

"And you didn't, of course."

"Of course. So when I saw this box in Lady Mary's hand, I assumed it contained the pendant, chain, and ring. I thought the message was a not-so-gentle push to formally propose." He paused. "What I didn't expect at all was the watch."

"No, I suspect that was quite the surprise."

He nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. Elsie reached out and took his hand in hers, the watch enclosed in their palms as he continued.

"I'd no idea she had it, you see, but as soon as I laid eyes on it I wasn't surprised at all. The handkerchief that the pieces were wrapped in must have been hers, as Mama never had one so fine. I gather she took the watch as a memento, although she must have understood the significance of how it tied him to Mama."

"I doubt it mattered," Elsie whispered.

"No, evidently not. I've been thinking a great deal about the night Lady Mary came down, and I believe that the Dowager's message was that it was time for everything: time to propose, time to take back these pieces of my family – time to make you my family. It sounds, well, sentimental. Don't laugh … but I realized in that moment that she had taken me in all those years ago to care for me as she could never have cared for my Pa. When I opened the box, I realized that my life was being handed back to me at last, that she no longer needed to take care of me as she always had. It's why I was so nervous when you went to see her, because I wasn't sure what she'd say, if she'd talk about things she assumed you already knew."

"She said nothing really, nothing I understood anyway." Certainly nothing like that. I don't think she'd ever speak of that.

Charles just squeezed her in an embrace, placing kisses to her head. "I love you, Elsie Carson."

She smiled and nodded. "I love you, my man." Laying the watch back in the box, Elsie closed the lid and handed it to Charles, who placed it back on the night stand. "I always will." Reaching up, she met her lips to his as their bodies slid gently back amongst the pillows.

The remainder of the week passed in a similar fashion. Elsie was amazed at the beauty of London, and thoroughly enjoyed seeing everything through Charles's keen eyes. He was enjoying showing her all of his favorite places, marveling at her fresh perspective on those that he'd been visiting for years. They enjoyed lazy, cuddly mornings in bed, calm afternoons meandering through the city, candlelit dinners at his favorite restaurants, and loving, passionate evenings spent in one another's arms.

They'd never been so happy, and retirement had never been so appealing to them both.

* This was my own personal experience on my wedding day (in what I refer to as my "other life") – not nervous at all until the limousine made its way around the block to pull up alongside the church…then I was TERRIFIED. I believe Elsie, whom I see as a fellow hater of being in the limelight, would have felt the same.

As always, I thank you for amazing REVIEWS and REBLOGS, which have boosted this story into what it became…much more than the few thousand words I'd intended when I set out on this journey.