Yes. This would do. This would do quite nicely.

The children had all gone down with relatively little fuss at a decent hour and the house was dark and quiet, save for the sound coming from the bedroom, her husband turning the pages of his book every few minutes.

She would do it tonight. Tell him tonight. She was ready to plead her case, facts and considerations ready for presentation and argument. And if he was still resistant to her idea afterwards, she'd simply tell him the truth. She needs it. Not wants it. Needs it. Her body yearns for it.

Taking a deep breath, she paused a few feet down the corridor from their bedroom, feeling nervous as she reached under her light cotton gown to remove her knickers. Stepping into the room she watched him for a moment before softly asking, "What are you reading?"

It took little prompting for her husband to begin reading aloud from his tome; his voice deep and rich, yet soft and warm:

"We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together…"

A bloom of arousal filling her core, Elsie Carson gently shut the bedroom door before stepping out of her slippers and climbing into the bed beside him, her body sliding against his side, her hand sneaking beneath the vest he wore so that it rested on his bare chest.

"…with the windows open and the stars bright."

A deep sigh escaping his wife's lips, Charles Carson leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I didn't know Mr. Hemmingway affected you so, Mrs. Carson."

Shaking her head, Elsie assured him, "It isn't Mr. Hemmingway. It's my husband's voice. You could read our market list in that voice and I would probably feel this turned on."

A smile on his lips, he set the book on the bedside table and pulled the switch on the lamp before easing himself down next to her in the bed. "Dish soap, apples, flour…"

"Oh, Mr. Carson," she giggled as she moved both her hands down to lift the hem of his shirt. "Don't stop."

"Sugar, molasses, coffee, cherries…"

"Mmm…that's good." She swung her leg up and over his reclined torso, looking down at him. "Now shut up and kiss me, darling."

They met halfway, her leaning down and him rising as his hands slid under her gown, over her thighs, and onto her bum. "Scandalous! You've no knickers on!"

"It's nine o'clock and our children are all fast asleep. The question is why are yours still on?"

Charles moved his hands up, adjusting so that he could lift and sweep his petite wife onto her back before rising from the bed. "Not for long."

She inhaled sharply as she heard him open the bedside drawer, even in the semi-darkness she knew that he was searching for a condom. "Oh, honey, wait before you get…"

"I know I saw at least two in here." He let out a little laugh. "Goodness knows a surprise is the last thing we need…"

His words left her cold, although she knew that wasn't his intention, and she felt the aroused, excited feeling in her stomach fade.

"Good to go." The bed groaned slightly as Charles climbed back in next to her, one hand sliding up her inner thigh as he leaned over to capture her mouth.

"I need to potty!"

The call of their two and half year old elicited an audible groan from his father, while his mother felt strangely relieved.

"I'll go," Elsie quickly offered, sliding out of the bed and pulling on her dressing gown.

"Thank you and hurry please."

She paused for a moment before making a split decision, her words tumbling out of her mouth with little thought. "Oh, honey, we'll have to…another night. I'll have to rock him to get him back down and who knows how long that will take and you need to sleep."

"I'll wait, Elsie. We can still..."

She shook her head, an apologetic smile on her face. "We will and soon, but just not tonight. Go to sleep."

Stepping outside the bedroom door, she felt her cheeks redden. She felt guilty for leaving him in such a state, but at the same time, frustrated with herself for not speaking up. She had almost decided to turn around and confront him when Pete called out again. Shoulders slumped, she made her way into the nursery, soon finding solace in the warmth and comfort of holding her child in her arms.

An hour later, her dark, curly headed boy fast asleep in his crib, she found herself breathing a sigh of relief as she returned to their bedroom which was filled with the sounds of her husband's light snoring. Climbing into bed, she curled herself into a ball and had a quiet weep.

"I am the pirate king!"

Four year old strawberry blonde Olivia Carson climbed up onto the upholstered ottoman in front of her father's leather chair and lifted a cardboard sword high in the air, her free hand pushing her loose eye patch into place as her twin and younger brother, also attired in felt hats, sashes, eye patches, and their own cardboard swords hopped around the base of the ottoman shouting, "Hurrah! Hurrah!"

"And it 'tis, it 'tis a glorious thing to beeeee a pirate king!"

The phonograph volume dwindled to nothing as the children's mother smoothly turned the knob until the turntable stopped spinning their father's much loved copy of Gilbert and Sullivan's The Pirates of Penzance.

"Again, Mumma! Please? Again?" Livy pleaded from her place atop the piece of furniture.

"Not again! I want to sing "Paradox!" Poppy cried.

"Body Made Her Mineral!" Pete implored.

Elsie couldn't help but laugh, knowing her toddler was trying to ask for "Modern Major General."

"Oh, my little pirates, I think we have swashed enough buckles for one day. Besides, Daddy should be home from school soon and it is Friday!"

Poppy pulled her hat off and dropped her sword, her face alight with excitement as she announced, "Welcome home surprise day!"

Since the girls were two, it had become tradition that they would greet their father in some silly fashion every Friday in celebration of the weekend; dressing up in costumes, hanging a banner over the door, or hiding and jumping out to yell surprise when he entered the house.

"It is welcome surprise day and I have a plan that I think will make Daddy laugh so hard he might tinkle in his pants!" Elsie plucked Peter and Olivia's hats from their heads before ushering her giggling brood into the kitchen.

Poppy's laughter came to an abrupt halt and she frowned as she caught sight of three pots of the non-toxic paint she and her siblings were allowed to paint with when doing crafts. "But we have made him signs before."

"Ah, but on paper. Today, you are the paper."

Olivia gave her a funny look. "We aren't paper, Mumma."

"We'll see about that," her mother offered with a smile.

The week has been a long one and Charles was distracted by an idea JoMo had put in his head earlier in the day and was therefore caught off-guard by the tableau filling their kitchen picture window as the headlamps of his Rover sedan hit the back of the cottage. Reality dawning, he burst into laughter as the car came to rest in the driveway allowing him to focus on his three children's bellies, one reading "Welcome," the next "Home," and the third "Daddy."

"I have the silliest, sweetest family," He announced as he made his way into the house.

A myriad of giggles greeted him as the children remained in their original positions atop a collection of dining room chairs in front of the window, the girls with dresses pulled up and over their heads and Peter with his little shirt drawn over his while their mother kept a watchful eye and ready hand nearby.

"Welcome home, Daddy." Elsie called as she lifted each child off their respective chair.

"Mumma painted on our tummies!" Olivia cried out, pushing her dress down over "Welcome" so she could see her father's bright grin.

"H-O-M-E!" Pete shouted, pulling his shirt up a little so that the bottoms of each letter could be seen.

"Good, clever boy," Charles complimented as he pulled the toddler up into his arms.

"It was cold and it tickled, Daddy!" Poppy added as she picked up her favorite baby doll Tildy from the floor before rushing towards her father.

"It tickled! Like this?!" Placing Pete onto the floor, he lowered himself to his knees, playfully pulling each child to him and tickling their tummies.

Squeals and giggles filled the kitchen, as well as yips from an equally excited terrier who had made his way into the room in search of the source of so much merriment.

"Mumma said you would laugh so hard it would make you tinkle!" Olivia yelled as she escaped her father's grasp, laughing as she hid behind her mother's legs.

"I came close," Charles offered breathlessly, ceasing with his tickling as he pulled both Poppy and Pete to him.

"Alright, my silly-billy children and silly-billy husband, supper will be ready in twenty minutes." She turned to Charles. "Do you want to shower before? You've time."

"No. I'll wait. You tend to dinner and I will be on tummy and handwashing duty."

Elsie reached down and picked up Olivia before making her way over to her husband. "Thank you, honey." Handing off the younger twin to her father, she lifted onto her tiptoes and gave him a tender kiss.

"I'm still waiting to see what is written on your tummy, Elsie."

She gave him warm smile which earned her two wiggling eyebrows before her husband turned around and headed towards the lavatory, Olivia in one arm, Peter the other, and Poppy wrapped around his good leg as Barley trotted behind them.

Watching her family disappear, Elsie sighed and whispered, "I shouldn't have painted welcome home daddy, I should have painted mumma wants baby."

"You want to just go over in the morning and drive back tomorrow evening?" Elsie handed a freshly washed dinner plate to her husband who quickly dried it before sliding it into its place in the hutch.

"It's only a couple of hours drive. We could be there between ten and eleven and leave by between three and four. We don't have to if you don't want to, I just haven't been in years. Hadn't even thought about it to be honest, but when JoMo mentioned it was this weekend, I don't know…I thought it might be nice. Especially since the children are getting bigger." Charles took a few steps towards the kitchen table where the children were busily coloring and drawing. "It's so nice that we can do more things now that Pete's out of diapers and the girls are becoming more independent."

Elsie felt a wave of disappointment overcoming her as she listened to Charles talk.

"Elsie?"

She forced a smile onto her face as she turned around to face him. "I think it sounds lovely. I haven't been to a fair since…"she stopped suddenly, the disappointment she had felt washed away by a sudden memory that made her dizzy and sick to her stomach.

He stepped towards her, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "What is it, honey?"

"I just remembered something."

"What?"

She hesitated before answering, her eyes clenched tight. "A straw doll. I just remembered a straw doll."

He continued to look at her with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Sorry." She placed her hand over his. "It doesn't matter..."

"From your childhood?"

Elsie nodded as she softly spoke. "Joe once won a little straw doll for me at a fair. I was so proud and pleased, but when I got home, my mother was drunk and my father was off somewhere. I tried to show it to her, but she just snatched it out of my hand and asked me if I had let Joe touch me, stick his hand up my skirt is what she actually said, to get him to win me the doll."

"Oh, honey." Charles pulled her into his embrace, wishing there was any way possible for him to help her forget such an awful memory.

"I didn't even know what she meant at the time. I was only eleven." Elsie shifted her head and caught sight of her small daughters, hot tears spilling from her eyes as she considered the cruelty her own mother had shown towards her child.

"We won't go. We won't."

"Mumma, are you crying?" Poppy was climbing down from her chair, her little face filled with concern as she ran to her mother.

"It's alright, baby. Mumma's alright." She pulled the little girl up into her arms, gently swaying as she rested her head against Poppy's auburn curls. "Guess what? Daddy's going to take us to the fair tomorrow!" She managed a smile as her daughter leaned back to look at her.

"The fair?"

"Mmm hmm…there will be rides and games and lots of yummy treats. You know the Downton that Daddy and Uncle JoMo and Uncle Robert talk about? The village where Daddy grew up and where the big house is?"

"The big house where Livy and I were born?"

"Yes, sweetheart." Charles nodded as he wrapped himself around his wife and daughter.

"The fair is there. In Downton."

"Will Uncle Robert and Aunt Cora and Lady be there?

"I don't think Lady Violet or Aunt Cora or Uncle Robert will be there, but we can drive out so you can see the house."

Not one to idly stand by while her sister was center of attention, Livy quickly climbed down from her chair and skipped over to her parents. "Where are we going?"

"To Downton!" Poppy informed her. "To the fair! Mumma said there will be rides and games and yummy treats."

Livy's eyes were big as she reached up and took her father's hand. "Can we go now?"

"First thing in the morning," Charles offered before turning back to Elsie, "but only if you are sure."

Elsie nodded, but quickly added, "On the condition that my beau wins me a prize. Make me a new memory."

"The biggest and the best. One for each of my girls," he promised before looking back at Peter. "And my Pete."

Three potty stops and each of the songs the children knew sung at least twenty times apiece later, Charles pulled the Rover up in front of Downton Abbey.

"The family isn't home, so we won't get out, but that is it. There's the big house."

The girls each let out gasps as they took in the enormity of the house.

"It's bigger than Doc's hospital!" Poppy exclaimed.

"Bigger than church," Livy added.

"And you two and Daddy were both born…" Elsie counted over four windows from the end on the east side of the house, "there. Just beyond that window."

"And over in those trees," Charles pointed towards a grove in the distance, "is where Daddy, and Uncle Robert, and Uncle JoMo played Robin Hood and pirates and cowboys and Indians when we were little boys ." He pointed in the opposite direction, "And over there is where we practiced cricket."

"You were a little boy?" Livy asked incredulously.

Elsie laughed, looking over her shoulder at the younger twin. "Of course. All mummas and daddies start out as little boys and little girls. You've seen the photographs in the hall of Daddy with Nana Joan and Granddad Peter when he was a little boy. And you know he's the baby in the painting with Nana Joan in the nursery."

"But how did you get so big?" Livy's skepticism was alive and well as she stared at her father's large profile.

"I read lots of books and ate all my sprouts and drank lots of milk."

Elsie reached over and squeezed his hand. "Alright, so now you have seen the big house. Next time we visit, we'll come when Uncle Robert and Aunt Cora and Mary and the new baby are home."

"The baby that is in Aunt Cora's tummy?" Poppy asked.

Elsie gave her oldest a warm grin. "That baby."

"Mumma, when will you have a baby in your tummy?"

Elsie was caught off guard by Poppy's question and took in a sharp breath, but before she could think of an answer, Charles piped up, "It's a good thing Mumma doesn't have a baby in her tummy or we probably wouldn't be going to the fair. Speaking of which, don't you think it is time we get going!"

The children's cheers filling the car, Elsie looked back up at the window she had pointed out only minutes before, her eyes filling with tears as she remembered the wonder and awe she had felt holding her children in her arms for the first time in the house whose hulking grandeur grew smaller as the Rover made its way towards the village.

"There's a spot over by the church," Elsie pointed out.

The traffic in the village was heavy, the mild autumn weather making the fair a popular destination for all the surrounding villages, as well as residents of York and Ripon. The spot Elsie found would mean a bit of a trek to the gates of the fair, but a clearly marked exit meant they would be near the car when the time came to leave.

The girls holding Elsie's hands and Peter harnessed into an upright stroller pushed by his father, the family set off for a day of fun and frivolity.

A plentiful amount of tickets tucked into his pockets, Charles took Pete into one temporary water closet, while Elsie and the girls visited the other. Trip to the potty completed, all three children were quickly mesmerized by the sights, sounds, and smells of their foreign, but exciting surroundings and it was soon decided that the quintet would visit the carousel first before heading to the large fiber glass slides.

"Is it how you remember it, sweetheart?" Elsie asked as they settled into the carousel queue.

Charles looked around, a pleasant smile on his face. "Mostly. We didn't have some of these modern rides, of course, but the barrel fires and the smell of popcorn and roasting chestnuts, those…those are quite familiar."

"Did you ever bring a sweetheart here?" Elsie looked up at him playfully.

He shook his head, "Oh no. It was always just we three boys and well, Rosamunde when Violet made our bringing her along a condition of our attending."

"Stuck with a kid sister."

"I won her a little wooden monkey once. She had a crush on me for two years because of that silly thing."

"Poor Rosamunde. She was just a plaything to you," Elsie teased.

"Hardly. Poor Charles. Too kind for his own good."

Letting go of the stroller handle, she reached over and took his hand. "Did you ever bring Al-"

He cut her off before she could continue. "Never. I never wanted to share this with her."

Letting go of his hand, she instinctually reached down and gently stroked each of the girls' heads.

"I think I wanted to wait and share it with my true sweetheart. And our little sweethearts."

Elsie swallowed, her eyes watering a little as she smiled up at him. "Honey, this is probably the wrong…"

The loud call of "Next!" from the young operator manning the carousel drowned out what she had begun to say and she soon found herself holding onto her bouncing toddler as he and his sisters squealed with glee as they sat upon fancifully carved wooden horses which bobbed in time to the strains of the calliope.

Tummies full of candy floss, toffee apples, cider, and meat pies, Peter was fast asleep in the stroller and the twins' enthusiasm seemed to be flagging as they scrambled off the burlap sack they had shared on a fifth trip down the large slide.

Handing back their red balloons on sticks, Elsie gave the girls a choice. "I am going to take Pete over near the church where it is quiet. Do you want to come with me or stay with Daddy and play games with the last of the tickets?"

After a few more bites of candy floss, Livy got a second wind and decided to stay with Charles, while Poppy opted to join Elsie in the more peaceful churchyard.

Walking through the small stone and iron gate, it occurred to Elsie that she would soon have to explain to her four year old what the headstones were and what lie beneath them. Deciding it best to let her daughter's curiosity lead their discussion, she watched as Poppy looked around at the various statues and monuments.

She was surprised by the child's quiet, contemplative demeanor as they slowly traversed the dead, blonde grass that filled in the space in between plots. They had been in the churchyard for well over fifteen minutes when Poppy's eyes suddenly lit up as she pointed to a medium sized stone in front of them.

"C-A-R-S-O-N. That's our name."

Elsie lifted her hand to her lips as she read the inscription beneath the name:

Peter Oliver Carson 1876-1915 Joan Margaret Carson 1878-1947

Beloved father and mother of Charles

"Mumma?" Poppy looked up at her mother before walking over to the stone. Using her little index finger, she traced the letters of her grandmother's first name. "J-O-A-N. That's like me. P-E-N-E-L-O-P-E J-O-A-N."

"It is, baby. Just like you." Elsie pushed the stroller into the shade before crouching down next to her daughter.

"And this says Peter!" She said pointing at the word before looking over at her sleeping brother.

"And this." Elsie traced her finger over Charles and waited for her clever daughter to sound the word out as she and Charles had taught her. "What does that say?"

"Ch, ch-Ay-rlsss."

"Not –ay, -ah."

"Ch-ah-rlsss. Charles. Charles! Daddy's name."

"It is. Sound out the rest."

The little girl quickly figured out the sentence, her little head cocking at an angle as she began to add up the information in front of her.

"My daddy? My daddy Charles? His mumma and daddy?"

Elsie nodded, willing herself to keep her emotions in check as she watched her daughter work out the puzzle.

"Nana Joan and Grandad Peter?"

"This is the place where people in the village, in Downton, bury their loved ones after they pass away."

"When they go to heaven?"

"Yes, baby." Elsie forced herself to swallow in order to continue. "When people's bodies get sick or when they get so old that their hearts are too tired to beat any more, their souls…their spirits, all their love and feelings and memories leave their bodies and go to heaven and so the shell that is left…their body without their energy and life in it…well, it just looks like they are asleep, and, their families who love them, they have a ceremony called a funeral where they talk about how much they loved and will miss their mumma or daddy, or nana or grandad, or sister, or friend and they sing songs and remember good, fun times they had with them and after that ceremony, the empty bodies are placed in boxes and they dig a very deep hole called a grave and put the box down inside of it and bury it and then a headstone- like this one for Nana Joan and Granddad Peter, is placed on top of the grave so their loved ones can come and visit them and remember them."

Poppy's bottom lip curled and her eyes welled with tears, "Daddy's mumma and daddy are in a box down there?" She pointed down at her feet. "I don't want you and Daddy to go in a box. I want you to be with me and Livy and Pete! Always!"

"Oh, baby," Elsie pulled the little girl to her. "Mumma and Daddy are going to be with you until you are a great big grown up. We are going to be here for a very long time. We will be with you when you have your own children and families. Don't worry, angel. Mumma's here and I'm going to be here for a very, very long time. Daddy, too. I promise."

"Honey?"

Elsie turned her head to find Charles, his arms laden with four giant bears, three pink and one blue, and Livy staring at her and Poppy from several feet away.

"Hi!" She quickly wiped her eyes, doing her best to smile at a worried Livy.

"I didn't know you'd…"

"I didn't…I didn't know where…we were just wandering and Pop recognized the name."

Poppy suddenly called out to her sister, "Look, Livy, it's Nana Joan and Granddad Peter."

Letting go of her father's hand, Livy skipped over to her sister, the two instinctually joining their empty hands and continuing to grip the red balloons in their others as Poppy began whispering in her sister's ear.

"I won you a prize." Charles called out.

She let out a laugh. "I see that. Very impressive, honey." Leaving the girls near the headstone, Elsie made her way to stand in front of Charles. "I'm sorry."

Charles gave her a warm smile, "Don't be. I should have brought you here long ago. Is Pop alright?"

Elsie looked over her shoulder and watched her daughters communicating in their very unique and private way; Poppy gently explaining where they were and what it meant and how Livy didn't need to worry.

"She's clever and sweet and perfect."

"Yes, she is. She takes after her mum." Charles agreed, reaching up to dust away a few errant tears as he looked back towards the grave. "I should have given you a proper introduction to them."

"I would have liked that. You still can. I want to talk to them. To tell them…"

Charles set the bears in the grass before pulling his wife into his arms.

"I want to tell them about our life and what a good husband you are, and what a wonderful father you are to their grandchildren. I want them to know…"

"They do, sweetheart, they do. They know us. They know how much we love our babies, love each other. They know I found you. That we found…" He couldn't go on, his own emotions freely flowing like those of his wife.

"Daddy?"

They both looked down to find Livy at their feet while Poppy helped a newly awakened Pete climb out of the stroller.

"Daddy, will you help us?"

Elsie stayed back as her husband and her children each rested on their knees in front of the gravestone which bore their collective name. Their actions hidden by Charles' broad back, Elsie found fresh tears on her cheeks as her husband moved to reveal that they had managed to dig a small hole into which they had planted the girls' balloons. From a distance, the two joined to form a bright red heart in the midst of the barren and bleached landscape of the graveyard.

Standing up, Charles stood for a moment and watched as Poppy and Livy each took one of Peter's hands, their little mittens hanging from the sleeves of their coats, waving in the wind along with the red balloons as they stepped up to the gravestone Leaning forward, the girls each took turns planting little kisses on the names "Joan," "Peter," and "Charles" before their little brother did the same. Turning around, he walked back towards Elsie, his gaze focused on something unseen in the distance as he took her hand. With a gentle squeeze, he took a breath and turned to her as he spoke.

"Elsie, I want another baby."