A/N: Apologies for the delay. Real life has been intruding. Again.
They manage to get him in through the front door, and he turns to Moira with the loveliest, kindest smile and she thinks that if she had been angry with him, that smile would have eased it all away.
"Hullo, Moira. Where's Els?"
"She's in the kitchen making you a nice cuppa, Charles. Why don't you sit down? Let me take your hat." Her menfolk are stumbling under the weight of this giant of a man.
He waves his hat airily. "No need, my dear. No need. I'll just mosey into the kitchen. I want to see Els." He weaves about and Tavey tries to steady him.
"Now then, Charles, my lad," says Moira firmly. "It's time for you to sit down, rest yourself."
"I want to see Elsie!" he says mulishly. "I want to see her!" He's so loud now that Moira is surprised Elsie hasn't come to him herself. She must be quite angry indeed if she's not out here already. Oh dear. Fortunately for them all he's not a mean drunk; there's a curl that's fallen across his forehead and his demands to see Elsie are more childlike. I wish she'd hurry up with that tea, thinks Moira. Likely she's in a temper and taking her sweet time about it.
*CE*
Elsie's slamming about in the kitchen, opening drawers needlessly, banging them shut again. The water is taking an age to boil; not like her temper, it's got enough fire under it to boil ten kettles full of ice cold water.
I told him, she thinks angrily. I told him to take care. And Donal! He promised no harm would come to him. I've a good mind to walk down to the village this minute and give all those hopeless wastrels a piece of my mind.
She's not sure why she's so angry. There's no real reason for it, except that this whole incident will be a source of humiliation and embarrassment for Charles, not to mention the ungodly hangover he'll face in the morning. Reputation and propriety are so important to him; his good name and his station are so much a part of him and this trip has strained those ineffable qualities to their limits. He was so understanding, so good natured about the bed. Elsie flushes to think on it. He took all the gentle teasing with such good grace, and he was so kind to her, particularly. When he comes to and realizes how he's behaved this evening, even though she knows (and hears) that he is good and kind even when he's in his cups, he will be appalled. He might never forgive himself.
She hears him come in through the front; the daft man, he's calling for her. She instinctively starts toward him, then she shakes herself. The kettle's finally steaming. He needs a good strong cup of tea, at least. She makes sure to sugar it even more than usual. Poor man. He's going to need it.
*CE*
She walks toward him, carefully balancing a cup of tea and two biscuits. Good, Moira thinks, she doesn't look angry anymore. Charles rises unsteadily as she enters the room.
"Elsie," he says in a rich, contented voice. "Elsie."
"Yes, I'm here now," she says crisply. "Sit down and have your biscuits and tea." He sits again with a loud thump and Elsie puts the cup and saucer with the biscuits on the table, hands him the cup. "Gently, now, gently." He blows across the tea to cool it, then takes a tentative sip.
"It's sweet, Els," and smiles up at her lovingly.
"Drink up, then, and we'll be off to bed."
"Alright."
Just like a child, Moira thinks. Just like a child to be soothed as long as his dearest possession is near.
"Well," says Tavey awkwardly. "I'd best be along to bed as well. Goodnight all." He heads up the stairs two at a time, eager to relate the evening's adventures to Janet. Elsie throws a significant look at Moira and Moira nods briefly.
"Come along, then Donal. We'd best be getting on ourselves. G'night Els, Charles." She starts toward their bedroom, pausing to allow Donal to catch up to her.
"You'll be alright, Els?" She nods her assent and he leans down to her, whispers. "I'm that sorry, Els. I truly am. I never thought the lads'd go that far. I never thought he'd go that far. I'm sorry." Elsie fixes him with a stare that speaks volumes. He lifts his hands in resignation. "See you in the morning, lass. Call for us if you need anything." Donal and Moira walk off to their bedroom and Elsie begins to bustle around Charles, taking his hat, loosening his tie. He tries to reach for her affectionately, but the scalding tea cup keeps getting in the way. It's nearly empty now, and the few biscuits Els put on the saucer have already been eaten. He puts the cup aside and rises, hoping to catch her in an embrace, but she turns quickly. He spins around to catch her, but reaches out for the back of the chair to steady himself. All of a sudden, he doesn't feel so well.
"Els? Elsie? I think I'm going to be sick."