Ch2: The Wedding
A/N: Desperately trying not to be swayed by the pictures we've seen. Still flailing. This got away from me. I couldn't stop. I'm still obsessed with Elsie's hair and their hands. As if you couldn't tell. Apologies for any errors. I read these things, and think they are fine, and then go back after I've posted and find perfectly obvious things.
It took all Mr Carson's will power, when he awoke on the morning of his wedding, not to rush through the dividing door of the corridor and wake Mrs Hughes, just so he could say good morning. He had already chanced his luck and slipped the note under her door at about one am, and that, he firmly told himself, would have to do.
Pulling back his curtains, he frowned slightly when he realised it would not be sunny, wanting to present her with the best possible day he could, and then chuckled to himself at the thought he could control the weather. He might be a very good butler, but he was not God.
Dressing took very little time, even if the suit was new and the tie not his usual style. He hurried down to the servant's hall to find Mrs Patmore already clanking around the kitchen, setting things up for Daisy. She looked up as he paused in the kitchen door and smiled.
'There's the man of the moment! Did you want anything to eat?'
'I'm not sure I'd be able to, Mrs Patmore. At any rate, Doctor Clarkson said he'd be happy to provide. I'd best be off. Wouldn't want an accidental meeting on the stairs.'
'You're not walking?!'
His reply was cut off by a voice behind him.
'If he does, my job might be on the line.'
Mr Carson turned to find Mr Bates behind him, still in his overcoat, Anna just visible in the passage behind him. 'His Lordship said to tell you the car was at your disposal.'
He frowned. He had been perfectly happy at the thought of a walk, but there was no sense in getting his shoes dusty, and so he agreed.
'On one condition', he turned towards Mrs Patmore. 'Mrs Hughes should use the main stairs. I've already mentioned it to her Ladyship, so don't let her fight you.'
'Duly noted' Mrs Patmore answered, smiling and then nodded through the door at Anna who was hovering expectantly. 'I'd best be off to see how you're bride is fairing!'
'Tell her', he started to speak and then couldn't think of any message which could convey what he was feeling. 'No, never mind. I'll tell her myself in a few hours.'
Mrs Patmore rolled her eyes slightly but shot him a smile before moving out of the kitchen.
A couple of hours or so later (Charles was desperately attempting not to check his watch every five minutes) the groom was sitting at Doctor Clarkson's dining table nursing a cup of coffee, quietly running through the last twenty years of memories, seeing every interaction with the housekeeper in an entirely new light. One memory kept reoccurring and he turned to the doctor, who had just re-entered the room with the finishing touch to Charles's outfit, seeking reassurance he didn't really need.
'I, erm, wanted to ask you something, although I know you won't be able to speak in specifics. I … well, is Elsie's health …?'
He left the question unfinished and paused to wonder what had made him use her first name when he had refused to do so at every other possible opportunity, but then found all he really cared about was the answer he might get.
Doctor Clarkson smiled at him benevolently. 'I shouldn't really answer even in vague terms, but it is your wedding day. As far as I know she is perfectly healthy.' The doctor presented him with his boutonniere and prepared to leave the room again, pausing only to lay a hand on Charles's shoulder. 'Of course, the benefit of being married to her is that she won't shut you out, and you won't need to play sleuth with me and Mrs Patmore!' He paused, scratching his nose in contemplation. 'Well, maybe not – she is a stubborn Scot after all!'
What that portion of Scottish humour dispensed, he left the room, leaving Charles to check his watch once more.
The half hour between his arrival at the church and the time the ceremony was due to start was the longest of his life, as he paced about the front of the church as guests trickled in past him. Doctor Clarkson had walked with him to the church, but had left him at the door so he could be on hand to perform his next duty. He'd paused to rest a hand on Charles's shoulder once more and given it a little shake along with a smile to remind him to keep calm.
Although Charles nodded his understanding, he didn't think he would truly be at peace until he saw his bride. He tried not to let his fears, which had been accumulating in the last hour, overtake him, but he couldn't help but wonder if all the drama of the past weeks might not have pushed her over the edge. Visions of Anthony Strallen filled his head.
He sighed, and gave himself a mental shake. She was stronger than that and he was foolish to doubt her. Turning, he entered the church and strode down the aisle to where Lord Grantham, his best man, awaited him. Once there, however, he couldn't help being drawn back to his thoughts once more, and stared at a crack in the stone floor, his mind whirling.
'When I was waiting for Cora, I was convinced she'd changed her mind.' Robert's quiet voice cut through his worries.
'Why would she have done than Milord?'
'Because Mama had managed to say something very unpleasant and we'd argued. I'd foolishly defended Mama even though I didn't agree with what she'd said. I sent a note to apologise on the morning of the wedding, but I wasn't sure she'd come until the organ started the wedding march.'
Robert paused, trying to gauge the emotions of the man next to him.
'What I'm trying to say Carson is that the Crawley women can be very trying, a little determined things should go their way and very difficult to say no to, but love like we have can withstand the stress.'
He looked at Robert in surprise at the highly personal words. It was the nearest Robert had come to apologising for his daughter and the proffered olive branch was much appreciated. 'Thank you' he murmured, not entirely sure he could find more fitting words. The butler would have been able to come up with some apposite analogy, but the man who stood there was too filled with the emotion of the day.
Behind him, the church was filling up. He turned and caught the eye of Mrs Crawley and the Dowager. Isobel smiled warmly at him, whilst Violet simply kept eye contact as she inclined her head in some sort of silent blessing. The gesture gave him strength and quietened his nerves. In front of her, George waved fiercely whilst Lady Edith tried to get him to stop bouncing up and down as she sat with Marigold on her knee who was staring about the church in fascination.
Charles followed her example and let his gaze run over the rest of the church, taking in every detail so that he could relate them to Elsie later on, in case she was too nervous to take things in on her journey down the aisle. He thought the flowers were particularly splendid, and not as ornate as she had feared they might become. There were certainly less than had filled the church on the occasion of Lady Mary or Edith's weddings, but he liked them for their infrequency. They felt more personal somehow.
Movement at the back of the church caught his eye and he saw Lady Grantham, Lady Mary, Anna and Miss Baxter enter together. They separated to take their places in the pews – the Grantham ladies on his side, the two ladies maid's on hers – a plan she had suggested, reasoning that the upstairs folk meant far more to him, were indeed the only family he felt like owning to. All four of them sent him wide smiles as they took their seats. He smiled inwardly, knowing that they had been the last to see Elsie, and they evidently knew something he didn't.
His spirits soared as he realised that it also meant she was on her way. She would be with him, at the front of this church which they had attended for the last twenty years. They would be together soon.
A few minutes later Mrs Patmore also entered and walked very quickly to the front pew to join Daisy. She seemed to be dabbing away tears already, but he hardly registered the fact, because as she took her place the sound of bagpipes filled his ears.
Beside him, Robert groaned quietly, but Charles did not care because it signalled a moment of great importance and he couldn't stop the wide smile breaking out. Thankfully only Mr Travis saw it, for he had faced the front. He hoped Elsie was delighted by the surprise. He had suddenly realised just how English the ceremony was, apart from the heather which graced his buttonhole, and although she hadn't mentioned anything, he wanted to acknowledge her Scottish heritage. It was one of the things he loved most about her after all. Aside from her hair, her eyes, her hands ….
The sound of the wedding march replacing the bagpipes drew him from his mental calculation of her attributes abruptly. She was here!
The congregation rose and within the melee he discerned the sound of the doors being opened. He missed the jangle which normally accompanied her step, momentarily panicked that it was an imposter, before remembering she would have, of course, dispensed with the chatelaine for today.
He took a deep breath and turned to see her progress down the aisle.
He was floored by the woman who walked, indeed seemed to float, towards him. His training ensured his jaw did not gape open, but it was a close run thing, and he could not help the tears which sprang into his eyes. They were glistening in hers too, and she looked straight at him as she made her way to the alter, acknowledging none of the guests, just him. It was a sacred moment and the entire congregation was acutely aware of the love being communicated by look alone between the two people who had eyes only for each other.
Time seemed to be suspended as he looked at her. He had never seen her wearing that shade of grey, but he immediately decided it was his favourite colour on her. She walked as she had always done, steadily and with purpose, and he wondered if he imagined the slight sway of her hips. The blush on her cheeks, however, suggested it was deliberate. And her hair …. He had never told her how much he admired the way she styled it, nor how he longed to feel it running through his fingers. Even now he could voice such thoughts he kept them to himself, fearing she might think him silly. He would get his chance tonight though, and a thrill ran through him as he thought of all the things he would say (and do, the teasing voice in his head reminded him) when they were finally alone. The way her hair framed her face was wonderful. He couldn't stop staring.
For her part, as she clutched the arm of Doctor Clarkson, she couldn't remember the aisle of the church being so long. She felt the numerous pairs of eyes on her, but looked neither left nor right as she took care to place one foot in front of the other. The one pair of eyes she sought were turned away and for a second she wondered if he would turn, or if he felt it more proper to face the other way. Then, just as she had resigned herself to the fact he wouldn't, she found that his eyes were on her, and she almost lost her balance. She felt the entire congregation melt away as his gaze was trained on her. There was only them. Beryl had said she was a vision, and her own perusal of the mirror had revealed some of the truth to her, but it was only now that she fully felt it. Beautiful in his eyes indeed.
All these impressions were the work of moments. In no time at all she was at his side and smiling up at him. He could not help taking her hand and placing a kiss on her gloved knuckles.
'Hello' he whispered and was rewarded by an amused smile.
'Thank you' she answered, inkling her head to the back of the church.
'Dearly beloved, we are gather here ….' Mr Travis's voice cut through the moment and they refocussed their attention to him, turning so that they faced him fully.
The vows were quickly reached. No one came to claim an impediment and the service ran smoothly on until Mr Travis invited them to turn to each other and instructed Charles to take his bride's hands and 'repeat after me.'
'I Charles Earnest take thee Elsie May to be my wedded wife.'
It was impossible not to share a wide smile as this last word crossed his lips.
'To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer, for poorer.'
He quirked an eyebrow at her as he finished speaking, silently telling her cared nothing for the fact she had no worldly wealth, because what she did give him far surpassed it. All that, expressed in an eyebrow, but she understood and her eyes grew round and she ducked her head for a moment, before looking back up at him, fresh tears in her eyes.
'In sickness and in health'
His grip tightened on her hands. The fear of her loss, despite his brief talk with Doctor Clarkson, flashed in his heart. She just shook her head slightly, reassurance flowing from her eyes.
'To love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.'
He smiled down at her, pressing her hands tightly, amazed that they should be so near to their happiness. They were so close he could taste it. His happiness tasted … salty. He was astounded to find he was crying. Actual tears were rolling down his face as he gazed at the woman who was minutes away from becoming his wife. He made no move to dry his cheeks – he would not have broken their precious connection for anything.
Tears threatened to fall from her eyes too, but she took a deep breath and managed to keep them under control, for the moment at least, as she recited her vows.
Her voice rang out at clear as a bell, audible even in the back pews, but his ear was attuned to the emotion she felt as she spoke the words; as she promised to be his. He was amused to note the slight twist of a smile as she promised to obey, but he heard the sincerity in her voice. She meant it. She really did.
She had managed to hold her emotions together, but as she came to the words 'till death do us part' her voice cracked distinctly and she gripped tighter to his hand as she finished the sentence Mr Travis had given her. Briefly, horror flashed across her face, but was swiftly assuaged by the love that shone from his eyes directly at her. Whatever time, his eyes assured her, they had together would be blessed indeed.
Mr Travis indicated she should remove her left glove, and for the first time that day, flesh touched flesh. Both of them felt the thrill of the contact and shared a smile which was both coy and bold. Robert stepped forward to hand the ring to Charles and with great solemnity, he started to say his final words which would unite them.
'With this ring I thee wed.' His eyes gazed deep into hers.
'With my body, I thee worship' He caught the slight blush that bloomed on her face, and paused for the briefest moment to make sure she saw the truth and promise of the statement reflected in his eyes. She did. The blush deepened.
'And with all my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost', he touched the ring to each of her other fingers as he said these words and with a low 'amen' drew the ring on to the finger where it would sit for the rest of their lives.
She looked up at him, happiness radiating from her and she squeezed his hand as they turned to face Mr Travis.
'Those whom God have joined together, let no man put asunder. You may now kiss the bride.'
They had not discussed this, knowing it would be part of the service. When she had thought of it at all, Elsie had supposed it would be a formal, chaste, embrace. They were private people after all. It was one thing to kiss in his pantry, quite another to do so before their friends, colleagues and employers.
As they turned towards each other, the gleam in his eye warned her how very wrong she was. His right arm slid purposefully about her waist, whilst his left hand brushed her neck and his thumb deliberately tilted her chin up slightly. As he drew her towards him she heard his whispered 'I love you' before his lips were on hers and they shared a lingering kiss which conveyed all the emotions they felt for each other. Drawing back after a few moments, he lifted her still bare left hand to his lips and kissed it, right where the wedding ring nestled.
Turning to face the congregation, surveying them for the first time, Mrs Carson was surprised to find tears rolling down the faces of Mrs Patmore, Daisy and Lady Mary, and suspected other were struggling to keep their emotions in check. Before the moment could grow awkward, the piper struck up with the recessional music. Scotland the Brave, to be exact, which caused her to turn to face her husband in amazement, before laughing with great delight.
'Oh, you dear, dear old booby!' she whispered, so only he should hear the endearment, squeezing his arm and noting how pleased he looked at having managed to surprise her twice in the space on an hour.
The two of them walked down the aisle, acknowledging all the smiling faces that surrounded them, who were delighted by the highly emotional ceremony they had witnessed.
As they reached the door, Charles nodded to the verger standing in the shadows and after they, and the piper, had passed into the porch, Elsie was surprised to find the doors shut behind them.
'I thought we could do with a moment alone to collect our thoughts.' He smiled and drew her close. 'Good afternoon, Mrs Carson.'
The smile she gave him in answer could have put the sun to shame. It lit up her entire face and her eyes shone as brightly as he had ever seen them. She stood enveloped by his arms and placed her own hands on his biceps and just started at him, before pressing her head to the middle of his chest. He could feel her body shake slightly as she allowed the tears to fall. He stood still for a moment or two, but the need to see her face overpowered him and he drew back and lifted her face so she met his eyes. She gave a short laugh, and moved to dry her cheeks.
'I don't think I've cried as much in the last twenty years as I have in the last few weeks! I promise not to make a habit of it. And the silliest thing is that I'm happy! I'm so happy Charles – I didn't realise I could be happier than on the night you proposed, but I am, and I still can't quite fathom how I deserve such happiness.'
'That makes two of us, my love. We shall just have to content ourselves with being much happier than we feel we deserve and get used to it.'
She laughed and moved to cup his face in her left hand. He felt the cool reassurance of her wedding ring and was greatly moved. His eyes darkened and his face grew serious as he contemplated the woman who stood so near him. She saw the change and finding herself without more words to express quite how much she loved him, she instead moved the hand which still rested on his face to a new position at the back of his neck.
Slowly, she drew his face down to her and, mirroring his earlier action, she whispered 'I love you' before she kissed him.
Through her kiss, which was languid, unhurried, she tied to convey all the ways she loved him, her thanks for the ways he had surprised her through the morning, and her absolute delight in the fact they were married at last. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth and she felt the shivers of pleasure run through her.
He broke away before her knees buckled completely and wrapped his arms about her tightly. He lifted her lightly off the ground and span in a full circle, his delight and ardour evident in his face. Setting her back down, his lips reclaimed hers for one last, deep, kiss before he drew back to cradle her face tenderly.
'Are you ready to go to our reception Mrs Carson?'
Mrs Carson was ready, and so her husband signalled to the piper – loitering a discreet distance away on the path – to resume his playing.
A/N: Oh good grief. I'm a mess. I said when I wrote Hands and Hearts (go read it, he he) that they wouldn't stop staring at each other, instead of talking. Now they won't stop CRYING. Actually, no one seems to be able to control their tears. I'm trying I really am!
Sigh …. So wedding vows. Yeah, I went with the newly discovered names. I'm just going to have to get used to the fact his middle name is Earnest and her full name isn't Elspeth. *sobs*. I left out the other minister we've seen in the pics, because I don't want to second guess the reason, and Mr Travis was enough of a distraction. I don't think, in the 1920s, that the man would wear a ring, at least I couldn't find any evidence of it in my searches.
Thank you to the reviewer who pointed out that a bagpiper is actually just called a piper …. Noted and fixed in this chapter.
Do you all want to go to a reception? Well, I'm working on it. I tried to make this chapter solely from Charles's perspective, but Elsie would keep demanding to have her say. Similarly, with chapter 3, I've written over a page and we've not even got out of the church and Cora is dominating things at present. It's gonna be a multi perspective affair I think, I couldn't keep Isobel quiet if I tried.
Annnnnyway. There you are – vows. If we even get a tiny portion of this in the episode, I will be beyond happy.
There is also a nod to the Chelsie Pride tumblr challenge, because, well Jane Austen, romance and weddings are just a perfect mix.
Reviews when you've a moment would be wonderful.