Hello dear readers,
Here is the last chapter of "missing scenes", I had a lot of fun writing it, I hope it will make you smile at least.
This chapter is rated M, smut and fluff are very present here.
A huge thank you to Pixie for all her help. Without her I wouldn't have posted this story.
A huge thank you to you, for following this story with enthusiasm, thank you to the guests who left lovely reviews that I can't, alas, reply to privately.
To answer the Italian review: I hope you like this chapter. The previous one was less in the mood of this story, it's true, but life as a couple is also about arguments, disagreements, and with Charles' and Elsie's character, arguments must happen regularly. Thanks for your review :)
And now, let's read...
Chapter 5
"So, I met Mrs. Bagshaw this afternoon on my way out of the haberdashery."
"You did?"
"Mmm mmm. She asked about you..."
"Ah, that's nice."
"Yes, isn't it? That's nice..." Charles didn't notice her angry tone.
"She asked me if you still had the opportunity to wear your panama, you know the hat she chose for you and wanted to give you without any consideration? And she gave me a present for you."
"What? A gift? That's totally ridiculous. What did you tell her?"
"I told her it was a very nice gesture, that yes you were planning to wear your hat you bought in France, to cricket matches in the summer, then I punched her in the face, took the present she had planned for you and came home to darn your socks. Honestly Charlie how do you always manage to hole your socks always in the same place?"
"I have a very muscular big toe... Wait, you did what?"
"I darned your socks. "
"Noooo not that... God you really... Oh my god, tell me that's not true! Elsie you really assaulted Lady Bagshaw?"
"I didn't assault her, I made it clear that she had no business stepping on my toes, that she could just go and get someone else's husband but she wouldn't get mine. Will you pass the biscuits, please?"
"But... Elsie. For God's sake! You're going to get sacked. We'll have to leave the cottage. Oh dear, we'll have to send out our tenants from Brouncker Road to move in, but... Oh dear!" Charles clutched his head in his hands, completely panicked by what he had just heard.
"Oh it's alright Charlie, she'll be fine. I'm sure she was only unconscious for a few minutes and her nose will recover quickly. Maybe a crooked nose will add to her charm, she's pretty bland in her own right isn't she? The biscuits please Charlie."
Charles handed her the plate mechanically.
"Then frankly, giving a man you hope to seduce recipes. As if you could cook."
"Recipes? That was my gift? Oh, but Elsie. I asked her to. God, Elsie, Mrs Bagshaw speaks French fluently, I wanted to bring back some recipes of what I liked to eat in France to ask Mrs Patmore or Daisy to cook some for us, or we could try cooking together and... Bloody hell, Elsie why did you hit her?"
"Charlie, look me in the eye and tell me there was nothing going on between you and Mrs Bagshaw in France?"
"What? Come on, Elsie, how can you... Mrs Bagshaw and ... It's completely Ridi... What makes you think that..." He had risen from his chair and started pacing.
"You'll be lucky if she doesn't press charges against you. I'll have to get a lawyer for sure."
"Charlie you didn't answer my question."
"I DIDN'T ANSWER BECAUSE YOUR QUESTION IS STUPID ELSIE !"
"DON'T YELL AT ME!"
He took a few breaths to try and calm himself down.
"Nothing ever happened between Lady Bashaw and me. She just helped me to choose my hat and spoke to the chef for me and that was it. We exchanged maybe five sentences at most during the whole stay. And I don't understand how you could suspect that I could be unfaithful. And even if I had been, it's me you should blame."
"Oh, but it's planned. Mind you, I've told Mrs Patmore that we won't be eating at the Abbey all week, that we'd rather eat at home, and that I was going to cook ALL the meals. "
"All?"
"All of them. Would you rather have split pea soup or broccoli salad? They're about the only things I know how to make without setting the kitchen on fire. "
They stared at each other for a long time. Charles was completely at a loss, he felt as if he no longer knew the woman he had married and worked with for over thirty years. Who was this harpy who was beating up random women in the street?
Suddenly Elsie started laughing, she was laughing so hard she was holding her stomach and tears were streaming down her cheeks.
"Oh Charlie you should see your face. Oh my love, I'm sorry." And she laughed even harder.
"Oh my god, I have to go to the bathroom and ahahahaha, oh my Charlie hihihihihi"
And off she went to lock herself in the toilet, Charles could still hear her laughing and he wondered more and more if Elsie had lost her mind.
When she came back into their living room she looked calmer but avoided looking at him. Elsie told herself that if she met her husband's gaze again she would start laughing.
"Charlie, look in the basket in the kitchen, will you? "
He went into the kitchen and opened the basket, which contained several sheets of paper, and a whole bunch of vegetables, some of which he didn't know. He took the sheets to read them, unsurprisingly they were recipes translated into English.
Mrs Bagshaw took the trouble to translate the recipes into English and as a thank you she gets her nose broken by my wife.
"So Charlie, shall we get on with it?"
"Getting on with what?"
"Well, cooking. You're holding the recipes in your hands, and I found just about everything at the market this morning to make soupe au pistou* and croquants aux amandes**."
Seeing her husband's flabbergasted look, she felt obliged to add:
"And Mrs. Bagshaw is doing very well, she sends her regards and wishes us bon appétit."
"What?"
"Bon appétit is French, it means enjoy your meal apparently."
"I know what it means... is Mrs Bagshaw all right? You haven't...?"
"Of course she's all right. You're so gullible my love, I couldn't resist having a bit of a laugh at your expense. I'm sorry."
"You laughed at my expense? Was that a joke? Oh boy Elsie, one day you'll be AaaaH..." he clutched his chest and went to slump down on the nearest chair with a red face.
"Oh my God Charlie? Charlie are you ok?"
"Elsie... I'm hurting! my heart!... I think I... the shock of... Bagshaw"
"CHARLIIIIE oh my love, I'm sorry." Elsie was beginning to panic seriously.
"Stay there, I'll get the doctor."
Suddenly Charles grabbed her by the waist and brought her to his lap.
"You are so gullible my love!"
Elsie jumped to her feet, her eyes flashing, her cheeks flushed with fear and anger at being tricked. She stared at her husband, glaring for a few seconds, then decided in a peremptory tone:
"I think we have to stop joking with each other. Otherwise we'll kill ourselves. "
He nodded, he couldn't agree more with his wife.
Charles got up from his chair and went back to the basket, grabbing three potatoes.
"So, shall we make this soup? "
oOo
Mrs Patmore, newly engaged, needed to talk to Mrs Carson about what couples would do at night when they were alone in their bedroom.
She hoped Elsie could answer her questions. Nothing too intimate, of course, but still some indications might reassure her.
She hadn't bothered to give notice of her visit, she felt a little bad about disturbing her on her day off, but at least they wouldn't be interrupted as they always were at the Abbey. Elsie had told her that Charles liked to garden. So Beryl thought that on this late afternoon Mr. Carson must be watering his plants while Elsie was preparing the meal.
Poor Mr. Carson. Beryl couldn't help thinking.
But just as she was about to arrive at the doorstep of the Carson cottage she heard loud laughter coming from the house.
She then approached the half-open window into the kitchen and peered in discreetly.
Charles was nimbly juggling the three potatoes he had pulled from the basket while Elsie tried to convince him to peel them and start cooking.
Elsie didn't argue much, and she always had a fit of laughter when she saw her husband clowning around with his juggling act.
"Send me the onion in the basket. To my signaAAAAAA!"
Elsie didn't wait for the signal and threw the onion in his face and he dropped all the potatoes that rolled under the kitchen table.
"Oh my love, oh forgive me." She had come up to him as quickly as she could to cup Charles' face and examine it from every angle.
"Phew, you're okay. I'm really clumsy sometimes."
"I'm fine... That's a quick way of putting it. I'm in terrible pain, you know?" Charles looked like a little boy who had hurt himself when he fell off his bicycle.
"Oh, is that right, my love? Show me where it hurts. "
"There," he pointed to his forehead, where the onion had hit him.
Elsie lowered Charles' face to hers and placed a long, soft kiss on the spot where he had put his finger.
"There, it's healed. Does it hurt anywhere else?"
He nodded and showed her his hands.
"I've lost the habit of juggling, and with my palsy..."
"Shh, no need to explain." And Elsie lovingly kissed his hands.
"I'm in pain here too."
Elsie smiled and kissed his neck, just below his left ear, which was a sensitive spot for both of them.
"And here" he showed her his right cheek which she kissed willingly.
"Here" his nose, which she kissed tenderly.
"I'm a little sore there," he pointed to his chin and she laughed and kissed the dimple.
"And here." He pointed to his lips, which Elsie was happy to kiss.
As their kiss deepened and their hands began to stray, Mrs Patmore moved away from the cottage, she had been intrusive enough as it was.
She had thought that at their age they were not supposed to be so "active" especially not in broad daylight, but she was wrong.
The complicity, tenderness and love she had seen between Mr. and Mrs. Carson had reassured her of her future marriage. She hoped to experience this with Bill.
She had never seen Elsie so radiant as she was in her kitchen, alone with Charles.
Beryl was happy for her friends, and in high spirits she went to visit her fiancé, hoping that perhaps they could share their first kiss.
Meanwhile, in the Carson kitchen, Charles and Elsie were still kissing languidly.
It was Elsie who broke the kiss by crying out:
"The potatoes!"
Before she let go of her husband to crawl under the table.
Charles was stunned for a few seconds. His arms were full of Elsie, his mouth was busy loving hers, and then nothing. And there she was, crawling under the table.
He got down on his knees to help his wife pick up the potatoes and onion but as he reached for the bulb that had assaulted him a few minutes earlier, his gesture stopped midway when his gaze fell on his wife's buttocks, which were swaying as she picked up the potatoes.
Charles couldn't stop an appreciative grunt from escaping his throat.
He walked around, on all fours to find himself face to face with Elsie.
"Bonjour, jolie mademoiselle."
"Charles, this is no time to play, if we don't pick up the potatoes they will attract bugs and it will be..."
She couldn't finish her sentence, Charles had thrown himself on top of her and was kissing her full on the lips, making her forget about the potatoes, and the fact that they were on the floor and partially under their kitchen table.
Elsie moaned into his mouth, dropped the potatoes again, and lay down on the floor, taking Charles with her.
Soon their hands were working on each other's clothes. Elsie managed to unbutton Charles' trousers and tried to slide them down over his hips, but they were still held up by the braces. He was forced to stop unbuttoning the front of Elsie's dress to remove his braces and help his wife pull his trousers down over his ankles, followed by his underwear.
He returned to his task, removed the front of Elsie's dress to gain access to her breasts, loosened her corset slightly so she could breathe better, lifted her skirt and petticoats, removed her panties all without stopping kissing her.
They were in a hurry, their movements were hard and hurried.
Charles lay between Elsie's thighs, ready to merge with her. Elsie sought him out, rubbing against him, their lips still sealed to each other's.
It was Elsie who grabbed Charles' sex and brought it into her. She placed it at her entrance and moved to thrust it in under Charles' moans.
Charles began to move inside her, hard and deep. They needed something rough and fast, they needed each other, they needed to take each other, to sink into each other, to claw, to enter each other's skin. They were hungry for sex and passion.
Charles had put his arms under Elsie, his hands pulling and pushing on her shoulders so that she would move with him better, so that they would meet harder, faster. They were literally glued together, Charles doing his best not to crush Elsie too much but caught up in his passion all his weight was on his wife. She had wrapped her thighs around her husband's hips, her feet sinking into the soft flesh of his buttocks which were always rising and falling fast, always hard. She had grabbed the legs of the table behind her to stretch out, arch her back, and abandon herself completely to this dance totally led by her husband.
She was close, she could feel it, and Charles' movements were becoming more and more erratic and he was breathing and moaning harder and harder into her neck. She anchored her feet to the floor spread her legs further apart and Charles' rough hair and pubic bone came to rest in just the right place and she broke, under the rough movements of her husband who still had his hands clasped around Elsie's shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh, into her bones as he came with her. Their cries of pleasure echoed throughout the house, all the way to the garden. In her pleasure, Elsie had pulled the table completely over them, giving them a little shelter as they came down from their orgasm, laughing and kissing.
Charles released Elsie from his body and lay down beside her, catching his breath.
Their smiles were blissful, loving, soothed and happy. Charles took Elsie's hand and brought it to his mouth and kissed it.
"Oh dear, if I'd known my little joke about Lady Bagshaw would lead to this... I would have set it up sooner."
He could only laugh at his wife's exclamation, yes there had been in that act a need for reconciliation, a need to tell her that there was no one, not now, not then, not ever, that there was no other woman in his life, in his heart. He had needed to make her understand, that even under the guise of a joke, she should have no doubts about him.
"Your joke and, don't forget my juggling skills. I saw your lustful look while I was juggling. Naughty woman!"
"Mmm you're right, you can juggle whenever you want my love you are extremely attractive when you do. Naughty you! However, on the floor may not have been the best idea we've had so far."
"Maybe not the best idea, but we've never tried it before, and even though I don't know if I'll be able to get up... Goddamn it, that was good, Elsie!"
"That was more than good, Charles. I don't know if I could look at this table without wanting to throw you under it and do it again. But I'm not sure my knees and back would survive it. "
They somehow managed to get out from under the table, helping each other. Elsie needed to go to the bathroom, so with a slight limp she made her way down the hallway and then turned back to her husband who was putting his straps back on his shoulders, wincing at the pain in his arms and back.
"Are you sure we've never done this on the floor before - even in Scarborough?"
"Quite sure, the dresser is not the floor, Elsie and if I may say so, the position was quite different." He said, blushing at the memory of their honeymoon.
She nodded at the memory and went to clean up and get dressed properly before joining her husband in the kitchen.
In the end they hadn't had time to prepare the soupe au pistou, so they used some vegetables to make a basic soup that cooked more quickly.
They went to bed early, the late afternoon's activities had made them tired and tomorrow they would resume their work at the Abbey.
Elsie felt herself slipping gently into sleep, her back and buttocks pressed against Charles' chest and thighs, and he wrapped a protective arm around her and placed a kiss in her hair.
"Elsie?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think the dresser in our room is solid?"
"I'm not sure... I think we'll have to check it out."
"Soon?"
"Very soon."
They fell asleep body to body.
They loved each other so much, the curmudgeon and the peacemaker, the butler and the housekeeper, the showman and the farm girl, Charlie and Elsie.
FIN
*La soupe au pistou is a typical soup from the south of France, where I live. It is prepared in summer, simmered for several hours with a mixture of vegetables, white or red beans, pasta and the pistou "basil, garlic and olive oil" and is delicious.
**Croquants aux amandes is a kind of bread, flavoured with orange blossom and whole almonds and still typical of the South of France.
Thanks for reading, see you soon for more Chelsie adventures