A/N: Back to the main timeline – January 2016
Charles sat in the running car, fiddling with the heat. The clock changed to 7:41 am. He stifled a yawn as Elsie hurried out of the door, through the garage and into the driveway. He chuckled when she got into the car.
"You're the one always wanting to be on time. I'm more relaxed about it than I used to be." She rolled her eyes, fastening her seatbelt.
"It's a different routine now. I'm just getting used to it. Besides," she swatted his arm, "if someone hadn't kept me in bed for an extra twenty minutes, there would have been no need to rush-"
"Who was this man?" he growled. "How dare he interfere with your morning routine!"
"Stop the car!" she cried suddenly. He hit the brakes, and they came to a stop in the middle of the street.
"What? Did you forget something?"
"Yes," she said. She leaned over, drawing his face to hers, and kissed him square on the mouth. He was grateful he'd thought to put the car into park. She sucked on his lower lip and he moaned. Honking his horn, a neighbor passed them. They broke apart, breathing hard.
He changed the gear and drove on, loosening his shirt collar. "What…what was that for, Els? You already kissed me this morning. Several times."
"I know," she said, fumbling for her lipstick in her purse. "But I wanted to kiss you one last time before we got to work, and I have no intention of doing so in the parking lot. No matter how much others would enjoy the show." She smirked.
"I'm glad you thought of that," he said. "I'd probably forget."
They drove the rest of the way to the office without further incident, stopping only to pick up breakfast. Arriving at the building, they exited the car and went through the main lobby into the front doors of the firm. Anna sat at the front desk.
"Are we late?" Elsie asked as they removed their coats and hung them in the closet. The younger woman looked up, distracted.
"No, it's 7:58 by my computer's clock. Good morning, Mr. Carson."
"Good morning, Anna. I'll see you later," he said to Elsie, and climbed the stairs. Elsie smiled at Anna, but it faded when she saw the younger woman's worried expression.
"Oh dear, was it a late night? Did the bairn keep you awake?"
"No," Anna hesitated. "The baby's fine, and so is Poppy. I thought about calling you over the weekend, but I knew you'd be busy, so I didn't."
"And what were you going to call me about?"
Even though no one else was in the lobby, and Elsie could hear Andy clearly talking to Thomas in the file room, Anna lowered her voice. "John heard something at the gala, New Years' Eve."
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Charles climbed the stairs, holding his briefcase in one hand, and balancing his coffee and turkey bacon sandwich with the other. He stopped for a moment in Alfred's office.
"Good morning, Mr. Carson."
"Good morning, Alfred. I meant to ask you about the Conway deposition last week. How did it go?"
"It went well, I think." Alfred sat back in his desk chair. "None of our clients were identified in the cross-examination, and when Mr. Maloney tried to steer the questioning in that direction, I objected on the record."
"Very good," Charles said. "If you want to come talk to me later about deposing Dr. French, I'm available this morning."
"How about 10:30?"
"That's fine." Charles stepped away and headed into his office. He set the coffee and sandwich on his desk, and his briefcase in one of the spare chairs. He was checking emails when Robert walked in.
"I thought I heard your voice."
"Good morning, how was New Year's Eve? Did anyone miss me?" Charles wasn't looking at Robert. When he heard the door close, he tore his eyes from his computer screen. Both Robert and John stood between him and the door. Both looked unusually tense.
"What's this about?"
They exchanged glances before Robert spoke.
"There was a rumor going around at Dickie Merton's gala. I didn't think much of it, but Mary heard from her law school friend Sawyer Ingram on Saturday, and he asked her about it. So it's spreading, we know that much."
"And what is this rumor?" Charles was not very concerned. Gossip and speculation were always rife, but there was no need to take most of it seriously.
"That Edna Braithwaite, a secretary at Haxby, saw Mrs. Hughes getting into a car in Victory Park," John said. "Last September, apparently. Richard Carlisle insinuated to me that even though the windows of the car were tinted, Edna could see enough…" he coughed, his face turning pink. "She saw enough to seriously question the morality of our office manager. And now, your fiancée. Edna didn't see the man with her. But it wasn't your car." John looked down, at a loss for words. "That's the rumor."
Charles's face went white, then red, then white again. "That's…this is…no. No," he said, firmly, feeling anger boil within him.
"I told Carlisle it couldn't be true," Robert jumped in. "Absolutely not. He asked me how well I knew Elsie Hughes, and when I told him I'd known her for twenty-five years, and that she would never do such a thing, he then asked me how long I'd known that you and she were together." He shuffled his feet, anxious. "I had to admit to him that your engagement was a surprise, that I'd had no idea the two of you were dating."
"He seemed to take delight in that," John said with a snort. "That all of us had been so surprised by your announcement. And then Steven Russell said, and I quote, 'Perhaps you don't know her as well as you think you do. Neither does Mr. Carson.'"
"This is impossible," Charles burst out. "How dare he make such an accusation! He doesn't know her, doesn't know me…" He leaped to his feet and began pacing by the window. He turned abruptly. "I don't know this Edna whoever-she-is, but it seems very convenient for this story to come out now. When did she say she saw this happen? Last autumn?"
The two men nodded. Charles scoffed. "I know what this is. Carlisle and Russell, over there at Haxby, they've tried to take our business for years. They failed. Now they're trying to destroy my reputation, this firm's reputation. And they think targeting Elsie is the way to do it. Well, I will not stand for it," he stood in front of the bookshelf, in front of her picture. "They can come after me all they like, but God help them if they think they can go after her!" He forced himself to take a deep breath, but he was not remotely close to calming down.
"The trouble is," Robert began, putting his hand on the back of a chair, "lies go around the world before the truth has time to pull its trousers on. And," he held up a hand as if to keep Charles back, "the fact is, Elsie has dated other men in the past. So to some people, there's a sliver of doubt involved."
Charles turned red. "What-"
"Steady on," John said, stepping between Charles and Robert. "He's not saying that it's true, only that some people may believe it. But no one here does."
"I should bloody well hope not!" Charles shouted. The other two flinched. He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm…sorry. I don't mean to take out my anger on you. You're just the messengers."
"Is there anything you want us to do?" John asked. Charles shook his head.
"No, not right now. I have to think about this. And Elsie…" his heart plummeted into his shoes. "I'll have to tell her. Now. I won't have her hearing it from someone else."
"Actually, Anna was going to tell her," John said nervously. "She was very upset when I told her about it. She wanted to call Elsie on Saturday, then thought she'd better wait to see her in person." Charles nodded and blew out a long breath.
"If I couldn't tell her first, then Anna would be the best one. I'll go and talk to her now, though." He paused. "I'm sorry that you had to listen to that. I wish I'd been at the gala, kept the rumor from spreading."
"You could not have known that such a thing would be said," Robert put his hands in his pockets. "And if you had been there, I suspect nothing would have been said in your presence, and they would have waited until you were gone."
"That's likely true," Charles said, heading for the door. John exited first, but Robert blocked the way.
"I want you to know," he said, his eyes gentle, "that neither Cora nor I would ever believe Elsie capable of cheating on you. And you'll be glad to know that Mary defended you both ferociously. I had to hold her back from hitting Carlisle. Most of our other friends, Dickie Merton and Judge Garrett among them, don't believe a word of it either."
"Thank you, Robert. That means a lot. I'll have to thank Mary later," Charles said. Robert went into his office.
Elsie sat in her office, her eyes not taking in the screen in front her. At Charles's soft knock, she looked up. He pushed the door to close it, but did not close it all the way. She got up and went around her desk, her face crumbling.
"Oh God, Charlie, what people must think of you-" He caught her in his arms. "It feels like my fault, why did I ever date Steven Russell? He's been looking for a way to ruin you for years-"
Guilt surged through him. What people think of me? What about you? "Hush. If anyone is at fault, it's me," he whispered, wiping her tears with his thumbs. "If I hadn't been so determined to keep our relationship private, this rumor wouldn't have legs to stand on. I take full responsibility." She opened her mouth to object again, but he raised his eyebrows, his hands holding her face. "Full responsibility. None of this is your fault." He felt his own tears coming. "I'm so sorry you had to hear those things said about you. Your reputation means more to me than my own. It always has." He held her for a few minutes until she stopped shaking, rubbing her back.
Whatever he said, she still felt guilty. She regretted few things in her life, but it felt as though every questionable decision ran through her mind like a movie. The rumor itself almost felt secondary to the blow to his professional, as well as personal, reputation. She could live with some scandal; her true friends knew who she was. But she couldn't stand gossip about him. He, her Charles, had been a practical paragon of virtue throughout his entire career. She couldn't stand the thought of a stain on his reputation. Because of her.
"I should move back to the condo," she said, her voice breaking. "I won't give any more fodder to the gossip. I don't want any more damage done to your reputation. If everyone sees me as some kind of whore-"
"Elspeth Margaret, I never want to hear you say that word again!" He grasped her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. "And you are not moving back into the condo. If you do, people will really think there's some truth to it." He blew a hard breath through his nostrils. "We will be together from now until forever. We will be married in April." He relaxed, his voice a gentle murmur. "All right?"
"I love you, Charles Carson," she whispered. He kissed her softly.
"I love you, soon-to-be Elsie Carson." She smiled at that. He squeezed her hands. "Now. I am curious about a couple of things, which I'm sure you are as well. Do you know the woman who said she saw you get into the car?"
"Yes," her mouth pinched into a thin line, her eyes cold. "I only met her once, but I remember Edna Braithwaite. She interviewed here a few years ago, for a secretarial position. I didn't hire her, and she obviously took it personally."
"It seems strange that she would feel so strongly about it now, though," Charles sank into a chair, she into the other. "She got another job."
"I wonder if Steven put her up to it. She doesn't seem like the kind of person to start this sort of thing. It seems likely that someone did put her up to it, otherwise why wouldn't she spread the rumor before now?"
Charles tapped his finger on the armrest. "I think you're right. This is for maximum damage. What gets me is that this isn't professional. It's personal." He mused for a moment. "Who would want to get at not only me and you, but the whole firm? It's not just our reputations at stake."
She snorted. "Ironic, isn't it? Attorneys have affairs, get divorced. Hardly a month goes by without hearing about some scandal or another. But firms rise and fall, depending on their reputations. Depending on the scandal." Her voice got quiet. "But there's never been a story involving me, not one that affects us." She clenched her fists. "When I find out who started this-"
"I think I know." He was staring into space, but held a finger in the air.
"What? Who?" She leaned forward. He raised his eyebrows at her. Her mouth fell open as he nodded. "If you're right…as if the first time wasn't bad enough…" He could almost see the steam pouring out of her ears.
"We can sue. Force a settlement, since they won't go all the way to trial. They have no solid proof, it's only rumors." He slid out of his chair, stood up. "If I'm right, they will pay. Literally," he growled. "I will make sure they will be unable to hurt anyone here ever again." He put his hand on her desk phone.
"Are you going to call him now?" He shook his head.
"Not yet. I want to be sure first." He picked up the phone and dialed. "Hello, Mr. Branson? This is Mr. Carson. I understand Mrs. Hughes will be visiting the city office tomorrow," he looked at his fiancée, a silent question. She nodded. "I will be coming with her. Can you spare an hour?"
Don't hate me. *cowers under my desk* Please trust me, I have a plan, there's plenty of fluff (and more flashbacks) still to come.