A/N: I don't say it often enough, but THANK YOU all for reading, and reviewing. Your support keeps me going. And these silly goobers who get away from me like a runaway train, like in the last chapter! A guest reviewer gently suggested the rating be changed to M, and I did so, just to be on the safe side. Even if there's only a few M chapters out of many, there's still M. I want to be accurate. Speaking of, there's some near the end of this chapter.
More honeymoon fluff. I hope you enjoy it!
It rained the rest of Monday, and for several days after.
The newlyweds did not mind.
Except for the occasional walk, they had not left the cottage. On Thursday afternoon, Charles climbed the stairs, carefully balancing a plate in one hand, and a cup and saucer with the other. He smiled at the sight in front of him. Elsie was huddled on the window seat, a blanket wrapped around her legs. She did not hear him approach, as she was engrossed in a book. They both had enjoyed the well-stocked bookshelf.
"Tea?"
She looked up, her eyes far away. "Thank you," she took the cup and saucer from him and placed them carefully next to her. She nodded to the plate of cookies. "Are those peanut butter?"
"Yes," he said, sitting down and taking one for himself. He smiled as she fiddled with her glasses. "That must be interesting, you've hardly put it down."
"It is," she agreed, sipping the steaming tea. "It's mostly about Jennie Jerome, Winston Churchill's mother, but also about other American heiresses who married into the British aristocracy."
He nodded. "I remember hearing a bit about that in school. History's a funny thing."
"Mmmm," she said, eating a cookie. She wiped the crumbs off of her fingers onto the plate. "I keep thinking about those women – on the surface, they had everything. Money, status, the whole lot. But they were little better than pawns in a chess game." She took off her glasses. "Fathers negotiating dowries…I can't imagine marrying someone for a title, knowing they just wanted the money I could bring."
"Sounds like us," he said, leaning against a cushion. When she raised her eyebrows at him, he pretended not to know what she was talking about. "What? You obviously married me for the title of Mrs. Charles Carson, and I married you for the fortune you have hidden away somewhere. The fact that I haven't found it yet is inconsequential."
"Cheeky," she said, looking amused. "Not many of those women were happy, much less as happy as I am. Jennie had affairs throughout her marriage to Lord Churchill. 'Lady Randy', indeed."
"She sounds like a nineteenth-century Fergie." They laughed. Charles scooted closer until he sat next to her. He pulled Elsie onto his lap, kissing her temple, then her lips. Leaning his forehead against hers, he tenderly tucked a long strand of graying hair behind her ear. "Are you happy, Elsie? Truly?"
"Yes, Charles," she whispered, kissing him softly. "I'm surprised you need ask."
They cuddled on the window seat, watching the rain. "Well," he finally said, "I know one item that will go on our must-have list for our new house."
"What's that?"
He kissed the top of her head fondly. "As if you need to ask. You've sat in the window seat every day since we've been here."
She turned in his arms. "You've sat here a time or two, as well."
"I like it," he said, smiling. "But you love it. We'll have to have one when we move."
"Along with a porch. And a garden of some kind," she reminded him. "A small one, or if not that, then a park nearby. For the puppy."
"You don't think I'm being ridiculous? For wanting a dog?" he asked, a worried expression on his face. "I know they can be a lot of work, so if you don't want-"
"Charles," she huffed, cupping his chin, "Stop. You've wanted a dog since you were a boy, I'll not take that away from you. And I rather look forward to having a wee furry baby," she smiled. "Someone else to cuddle with on the window seat."
"What if we get a Great Dane?" he said, his voice level. "It would break you."
She rolled her eyes. "You've been looking at pictures online of all sorts, but I notice none of them are too big to sit on my lap. If you want a gigantic dog, you're doing a great job of hiding it!"
He laughed, giving her a squeeze. "You know me well. I'd like a little one, maybe a terrier or spaniel or something like that." He moved her gently off of him and stood up. "Would you like more tea? Or something else to eat? I'm a bit peckish."
"I'll come with you," she said. "It's my turn to make something, you've made all the meals today, and yesterday." They headed down the stairs to the kitchen. Elsie rummaged in the cabinets while Charles turned his laptop on.
"You know I don't mind cooking," he said. "It's part of my job, being your butler."
"And you are a good one," she said, chopping onions to toss in the pan. "Although some of the things you've done this week are not usually in the job description."
"But as your husband, I am glad to do all of them, to the best of my ability," he chuckled. "I'm still curious as to who, exactly, slipped a copy of the Kama Sutra into your luggage, since you insisted it wasn't you." He looked over his glasses at her, his eyebrows raised.
"It wasn't me!" she protested. "If I had to guess, I would put money on Beryl." She tapped her finger on the counter. "Or Tom."
He leaned back in the chair, his hands behind his head. "Or Thomas, or James. I wouldn't put it past Cora, either, she and Robert have been a lot more relaxed over the last few years-"
"I could see Anna putting it there, as a joke," she mused, stirring the chicken.
"Phyllis!" he yelled. "She's got a wicked sense of humor, hidden behind that calm façade, I'm sure she'd think it would be a scream!"
"Or Spratt and Denker, their minds are in the gutter," she said, giggling.
"I think you've got it, it's got to be them," he said, choking on laughter. "Especially Denker. Spratt pretends to be appalled, but he's the worst among the staff when it comes to forwarding naughty email."
"Wait," she said, striding to the table, her face serious. "Charles Carson, you're not cheating, and checking your work email, are you?"
"I am not," he said, affronted, showing her the screen. "I'm looking at pictures of puppies, if you must know!" He scrolled through for a few minutes, clicking on different pictures.
"Hmmm," she looked over his shoulder. "Well, they are cute. And these people here-" she pointed to a link on the screen, "-they live in our area, and they have puppies they're breeding. Border terriers," she read as he clicked on the link.
"Oh," he said softly. "Isn't this one adorable? The one with the reddish coat and black ears?" A smile grew across his face. He was clearly in love.
She glanced at him, biting her lip. She had not realized, until he clicked on that particular link, that the pictures were familiar.
"She," she said softly, her hands on his shoulders. He turned, his eyebrows furrowed.
"'She'? How do you know that one's a girl? It's lying on the ground."
Elsie took a deep breath. "Because I've seen her. In person. And she's yours."
Charles's mouth fell open. "Elsie," he whispered, "are you serious? You bought the dog – for me?" She kissed him lightly.
"Happy wedding present," she said, biting her lip out of sheer nerves. I hope he's not angry. "I couldn't think of what to give you that you didn't already have-"
"My God," he gasped, getting to his feet and pulling her into his arms, "You're wonderful, darling!" He hugged her, bouncing with excitement. He kissed her once, then twice, holding her face between his hands. "Thank you," he whispered. "You have no idea, Els, how much I love you. First you marry me, then you give me something else that I never thought I'd have."
She moved, hastily turning off the stove as his hands encircled her waist. It would do no good to burn the cottage down. "I think I do have an idea of how much you love me," she breathed as their kisses became more heated. "What about dinner?" she panted, her breath short. He fumbled with the buttons on her blouse.
"It can wait," he growled, his lips traveling the curve of her neck. They only just made it to the bedroom in time.
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Friday dawned bright and clear. After a leisurely breakfast, they decided to go and take a tour of the Biltmore.
"It will seem strange to be around people after being alone all week," Charles commented as they drove.
"Why? Are you planning to take me into one of the bedrooms?" Elsie laughed.
"No, as much as I might be tempted," he smiled. "But it's been nice to be together, just us." They pulled into the parking lot.
She patted his shoulder after they got out of the car and linked her arm through his. "I know what you mean. We've been together for a while, but now it's different."
"We're family," he said quietly as they followed a path behind a line of tall trees. Holding hands, they kissed. They lingered for several minutes.
"Either we keep going and take the tour, or we go back to the cottage," she finally said. "You look like you're not sure what to do."
"I want to take the tour, but you are very distracting, Mrs. Hughes," his nose touched hers.
"Mrs. Hughes?" Her eyebrows went up, and she snorted with laughter. "That's the first time you've made that mistake!"
He rolled his eyes. "It won't be the last, I'll bet. As I said, you are quite the distraction." He pulled on her hand. "Come on, Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. Carson, Elspeth May, let's take the tour. We might as well, while we're here."
They came out into the open, onto a huge green lawn. Her mouth fell open in shock. "It's quite something, isn't it?" he asked, looking at the house. "Seeing pictures doesn't do it justice."
"Not at all," she agreed, her eyes wide. "I'd love to see the inside!"
He took a picture of her in front of the house before they went in. They explored three floors of soaring architecture, priceless art, and luxury on a grand scale. Both were floored by the library and its thousands of books. She loved Edith Vanderbilt's bedroom upstairs. He lingered in the Loggia, the open-air porch at the back of the house.
"A swimming pool in the basement! With lights!" he kept saying as they exited onto the lawn again.
"Should that go on our must-have list for our house?" she teased.
"It's just amazing that they had something like that when most people still used candles or gas lamps."
"Don't forget the bowling alley. I wonder if they let their staff use it?" she mused.
Over lunch, Charles seemed to be deep in thought. Elsie thought it was a product of everything they had seen. It was not until they sat in the Butterfly Garden that she knew anything else.
"What's wrong, Charlie? You're very quiet," she commented, slipping her hand in his. "Are you feeling all right?"
He smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm fine. Sometimes I forget how observant you are."
"What's on your mind?" she asked.
He sighed, trying to find the words. "My grandfather worked in a great house like this, in England. Going through the servants' bedrooms and the kitchen reminded me of him."
"Really? I didn't know he was in service," she said. She wondered where this was going.
"Yes. He was a hall boy, then a footman. But after the First World War, there were better opportunities for a young man. So he left service and went to work in a factory. That's where he met my grandmother." He shifted slightly on the bench. "I suppose being at a place like this reminds me of how far I've come. You know we never had much when I was growing up," he stroked her hair.
"I know," she murmured.
"I wanted a dog from my earliest memories, but there was no question of asking my parents. I knew we couldn't afford it," he said, scratching his head. "And later, when I lived on my own, I thought it would be unfair to an animal to leave it locked in the house while I was gone all the time."
Turning to him, her heart sank. "What are you saying? Do you think it would be wrong to have a dog now? We'll still be gone most days."
He squeezed her shoulder. "No, I don't think it's wrong. I'm not giving my sweet present back," he gave her a grin, and she returned it tentatively. "I'm just…thinking about a lot of things. These days with you have done that." He gestured in the other direction, back at the Biltmore. "Being here, thinking about my grandparents and my parents…they all worked practically until they died. I thought I would always do that as well. I didn't think any other way. But in the last couple of days, I really started thinking the impossible. Retirement." Ever since you said you'd marry me, it's been in the back of my mind.
Elsie's mouth fell open for the second time. "I never thought I'd hear you say that." She swallowed, her mind racing. "What changed your mind? You always said you'd keep working, that you'd get bored if you stopped."
Softly kissing her forehead, he replied, "You. You changed my mind. It's not enough for me to work at the firm for the rest of my life, with you in the next office. I've had that for the last quarter-century."
The more he thought about it, the more certain he felt. Of course he wasn't going to retire immediately; there were too many details that had to be worked out in the short term. But for the first time, he could see an end. He wanted to have a life outside of his professional life. That would never happen properly if he continued working.
"But Charlie-" she bit her lip. How do I say this without hurting him?
"What?" he asked gently, tilting her chin towards him. "Talk to me, Elsie."
She hesitated, then went for it. "I don't want to retire. At least, not anytime soon. I am younger than you."
He nodded. It did not surprise him. "I would never force you to. Have you ever thought about it, though? Your life in retirement?"
She let out a breath, relaxing against the back of the bench. "As a matter of fact, yes. I never planned anything definite, Beryl and I used to joke about taking a cruise around the world." She shook her head. "When I thought about it seriously, I never got past finding a small home and making sure Becky was taken care of. That's all." She looked down at her hands. "I…I'm proud of working, Charlie. I enjoy it. I've worked hard to be in the position of office manager, and I don't want to give it up. Yet." She took a deep breath. "So what happens if you retire in the near future and I don't? I don't want you to resent my decision."
"I never could," he said. "It's your decision to make. And it's not as if I'm going to walk into the office when we get back and announce I'm retiring the next Friday. I don't want to cause a riot."
"Of course not, you're too professional for that," she stifled a laugh.
"But I am going to start exploring my options," he said firmly. "In a year or two, once I figure out what I'm going to do, then I'll resign. And if you want to keep working, I'll support you." He gave her a friendly nudge. "I rather like the idea of taking care of you. I'd really be your butler then, taking care of the house, the dog, making your meals-"
She dissolved into laughter, hugging him. Relief flooded through her. "I love you."
"I love you, too, darling." He pressed his lips to hers.
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Charles lay in Elsie's arms, his fingers tracing her breasts. She played with his hair, humming under her breath.
"You. Are. Incredible," he punctuated each word with a kiss on her glistening skin. "I'm at a loss for words. How do you do that?" He looked up into her deep blue eyes. A satisfied smile greeted him.
"Practice. And attention to detail," she purred. "From the sounds you were making, I must have been successful."
"You were rather loud as well, wife."
"Indeed," she said rather slowly. She let out a shuddering breath as his hot mouth claimed her nipple. She ran her foot along his leg, behind his knee. Gripping her thighs, he relinquished one breast, leaving it at a hardened peak, before lavishing attention on the other. She moaned as his fingers searched her already-sensitive center.
A cell phone vibrated a text message on the side table.
They ignored it. Charles continued his search, spurred on by her increasing vocalizations. He was distracted by the incessant sounds coming from the table next to the bed, but was not about to stop.
"Yes, yes, Charlie, love, YES-" She keened her release against him. Gradually, her trembling subsided. She fell back against the pillow, her arm against her forehead as she gasped for breath. He kissed her and let his tongue slowly caress her lower lip.
The phone had not stopped going off.
"Damnit," he rasped, rolling off of her and grabbing it. "This had better be an emergency-"
"Don't say that," Elsie whispered, her hand on his shoulder. "Who is it? What do they want?"
He frowned at the screen, reading the first message. "There's a picture." His mouth opened into a perfect O. Without a word, he passed the phone to her. She looked closely, then screamed aloud at the picture of Phyllis. She was beaming, holding up her hand, showing off her ring.
"Phyllis and Joe! Oh, I wondered when he'd finally ask her! Wonderful!" She handed the phone back to Charles. "Quick, tell her congratulations!"
"You don't think it's odd I'm texting them a congratulatory message, while stark naked in bed with my wife?" he asked, a smile forming on his face at her excitement.
"It's not odd, as long as you don't tell them," she swatted him with a pillow.
"Certainly not," he said. His phone buzzed again. "Damn! Other people are texting, and I'm getting all the replies! And it sounds like your phone is going off, too." He growled at the instrument. He checked the new messages without sending his text. His shoulders shook as he laughed and fell sideways on the bed. Elsie tried to push him off of her.
"Och! You're heavy. Give me the phone, what's so funny?" she asked, taking it away from him.
Text from Phyllis Baxter to Charles Carson, etc.
Look what happened a few minutes ago! Joe asked me to marry him, and I said YES! I'm a very lucky lady!
Thomas Barrow to Phyllis Baxter, etc.
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! I KNEW IT! CONGRATS, PHIL!
Anna Bates to PB, etc.
So exciting! Congratulations from us! Details?
Daisy Mason to PB, etc.
Yay! Congratulations to you and Joe! You'll be very happy!
Cora Crawley to PB, etc.
WONDERFUL! Congratulations from all of us! I want to know details!
Madge Simmons to PB, etc.
Congratulations! Can't wait to hear all about it!
Thomas Barrow to PB, etc.
Yeah, we want details, Phil! Cough it up!
Andrew Parker to PB, etc.
Congratulations! Tell Joe we're already planning the stag party, he's not getting out of it!
John Bates to PB, etc.
Congratulations, Phyllis! I know Anna already sent our regards, but I'm really happy for you and Joe. If he needs a designated driver for the stag party, I'm in.
Ivy Stuart to PB, etc.
Congratulations! When will you get married?
Beryl Mason to PB, etc.
Now I know why my phone won't shut up! Congratulations all around, Phyllis and Joe! But whose brilliant idea was it to include Mr. and Mrs. Carson on this mass text? We don't want to disturb them, they waited long enough for their bloody honeymoon
Thomas Barrow to PB, etc.
Beryl, do you think they're still at it? It's been a week!
Beryl Mason to PB, etc.
I don't think you know them as well as I do
Thomas Barrow to PB, etc.
What, do you hide in their closet and listen? Ooh, Bill won't like that…
Beryl Mason to PB, etc.
You're a twisted man, Mr. Barrow. I'm just saying there are certain aspects to marriage that I'm sure they aren't finished enjoying.
Phyllis Baxter to Charles Carson, etc.
Thanks to all who sent their congratulations! Joe and I feel very loved. But I'd rather not hear, or even think, about what Mr. and Mrs. Carson are doing. Or not doing. Or…never mind.
Thomas Barrow to PB, etc.
Too late for that. Now we'll always wonder what they were up to…
Anna Bates to PB, etc.
Phil, sorry your text thread has been hijacked. Thomas, STOP. END this conversation! Beryl, if you want to tease them, that's up to you, but leave us out of it!
Charles Carson to PB, etc.
Phyllis, this is Elsie. All the congratulations in the world to you and Mr. Molesley! That's wonderful news! Mr. Carson and I are thrilled. As for Mr. Barrow, you will continue to wonder. You know me, a woman of mystery, if ever there was one. And you know Mr. Carson is the soul of discretion.
Beryl, when I get back next week, I think you owe me lunch.