A/N Here it is - the chapter some of you just may have been waiting for! Please tell me what you think. Reviews are wonderful. You can't know how much they mean. I monitor my inbox eagerly, anxiously awaiting them, after I post each new chapter.

Chapter 11

Charles was frozen to the bone. He and Mrs. Hughes had just come in from a visit to their bench and a brisk walk around the grounds. It had been a cold night, but they had both been willing to suffer the elements in order to enjoy each other's company. While they had sat talking on their bench, he had held her especially close. She had snuggled in and nestled her head on his shoulder, and he had nuzzled his nose and cheek in her hair. He had even dared to press a kiss to her forehead. At that moment, Charles hadn't felt cold in the least. But by the time they had arrived back at the house, despite having a warm housekeeper clinging tightly to him, he had definitely felt the chill.

Mrs. Hughes had gone to the kitchen to make them some hot cocoa, and he was now starting a fire in the hearth in her sitting room. Once the blaze was raging satisfactorily, he stood warming himself and staring at the flames. Mrs. Hughes returned from the kitchen carrying two mugs of cocoa, handed him one, and stood next to him, facing the fire. While Charles held his mug in one hand, he slipped the other behind her and around her waist, settling it on her hip.

Previously, when he had wrapped his arm around her, he had always rested it on her shoulders. But this current arrangement - holding her by the waist, with his hand on her hip - seemed so much more proprietary, so much more ... intimate. The thought caused a warm flush to wash over him.

"Are you warmer now?" Charles asked her.

"Yes, much better. Thank you. And you? Have you thawed a bit?" inquired Mrs. Hughes.

"Oh, yes. I think I'm starting to feel my ears again. The fire and the cocoa help," he remarked.

Mrs. Hughes nodded, agreeing, "This is very nice."

They were both content to stand wordlessly for a time, watching the flames flicker and flare, listening to the logs crackle and snap. When they had finished their cocoa, Charles took their mugs and set them aside. Then he pulled two chairs close to the fire. Mrs. Hughes sat in one, and he lowered himself into the other. Her hands were clasped on her knees, and when he reached over to grasp one, he discovered that they were still quite cold.

"Goodness! Your hands are still freezing! Oh, I am sorry, Mrs. Hughes," Charles apologized, taking both her hands in his, caressing and massaging them to warm them. "I should never have suggested going outdoors tonight in such frigid temperatures. Only, I didn't realize how cold it was until it was too late."

"Mr. Carson, please! I agreed very readily to accompany you. I'm not some delicate flower to wilt at the first hint of frost. I'll brave the cold any time, if it means I can spend the evening drinking cocoa in front of a cozy fire in such pleasant company," she assured him.

He relaxed and beamed at her assertion. Then he raised her hands to his mouth, breathed softly on them to warm them further, and kissed them tenderly.

He had been very free with his kisses tonight: first her forehead, now her hands. He wasn't sure how he had managed this unprecedented audacity, but Mrs. Hughes hadn't objected, and he found he enjoyed it tremendously. Charles fleetingly entertained the idea that maybe change and progress were not so frightening after all. Some changes might be for the better, and this was definitely one of them.

"You see?" said Mrs. Hughes after a moment, extricating one of her hands from his and raising it to touch his cheek. "All better now. They're warm as toast. Thank you." Then she curled her fingers delicately around his ear and noted, "It seems your ears have recovered as well."

Indeed, Charles was quite recovered from the cold. Her touch had caused a sudden flush in his cheeks, his ears, and most of the rest of him, too. Even his toes were now warm.

"Well, as you've said, enduring cold extremities does seem a small price to pay for such an enjoyable evening," he told her quietly.

The couple sat serenely in front of the fire, holding hands. Sitting as they were, Charles wasn't able to put his arm around Mrs. Hughes, as he would have liked, but when she leaned slightly forward, he began to run his hand gently over her upper back and shoulders. She must have found it soothing, because she smiled and sighed contentedly. He felt immense satisfaction in knowing that his caresses pleased her, and so he continued his attentions. Before long, he could tell she was becoming drowsy, though she tried not to show it and would never admit it.

"All right, then. I've kept you long enough. It's past your bedtime, young lady," Charles announced with great authority. Though he was loath to see their time together end, he still had the best part of the evening to look forward to. Their ritual goodnight kiss had become his favorite part of each day, and he anticipated it eagerly from the moment he woke every morning.

Mrs. Hughes started to object, saying something about being neither tired nor young, but he shook his head and silenced her by taking her hands and pulling her to her feet.

"I'll sort things here," he promised. "It's late. You should go up and get some rest."

"So should you. You must be just as tired," she countered.

"I am," he confessed. "And as soon as everything is settled here, I'll be off to sleep myself. I won't be another minute."

"Very well, then," she sighed, still holding his hands. "If you insist ... I'll say good night."

"Good night, Mrs. Hughes," he said, bending towards her.

Mrs. Hughes closed her eyes, apparently waiting for her usual kiss on the cheek. While her eyes were shut, Charles studied her beautiful face. He was certain that a lovelier woman never drew breath. He placed a hand on one of her cheeks and prepared to kiss the other.

He intended to kiss her cheek - he really did - but then he made the mistake of allowing his gaze to linger too long over her lips. The lips he had longed to kiss for two decades. The lips that spoke to him in the lilting Scottish brogue that so beguiled him. The lips that he had kissed so many nights in his dreams. The lips that tonight, at long last, he would kiss while awake.

He knew that he really should ask her permission, but just then, he couldn't speak at all. And so he did what he could no longer resist doing.

Charles leaned closer, ever so slowly, closed his eyes, and stopped when his lips just barely touched hers. Mrs. Hughes let out a little gasp, obviously expecting his kiss to fall elsewhere. He held his lips perfectly still against hers, making his intent perfectly clear but allowing her the opportunity to withdraw. He could feel her warm, soft breath against his face, and for a moment, he held his own breath.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still. Mrs. Hughes had not moved, and Charles was savoring the delicious anticipation. The preceding twenty-year wait for this kiss had been excruciating, but the final seconds just before it happened were exquisite. Finally, when he could wait no longer, he opened his lips just enough to close them again gingerly over hers. When she didn't object, he continued to place slow, timid kisses on her soft, sweet lips.

Charles hardly dared to believe what was happening. After so many years of longing, he was kissing his beloved, the most beautiful woman in the world. He had always wished, hoped, dreamed, imagined ... But never expected. Never believed. Never. And even more astonishing was the realization that the actual experience so far surpassed any of his previous imaginings.

Unfortunately for Charles, his ecstasy was short-lived. After a few seconds, Mrs. Hughes whimpered softly and raised her trembling hands, seeming unsure what to do with them. She placed them tentatively on his chest, then hesitated. For a moment, he thought she might slide them up around his neck and return his kisses, but instead she moved away. She was gasping and panting, and she seemed ready to sob. When Mrs. Hughes hastily retreated from the room with her hand covering her mouth and tears in her eyes, Charles was crushed.