As always, my thanks to chelsie fan.

The steady clicking and clacking of the wheels on the train tracks was almost comforting. Mrs. Hughes rested her head against the windowpane, listening to the sound of the miles disappearing. To her right sat Mr. Carson, his fingers still entwined in hers. They'd hardly let go of each other since that first desperate hug, other than a brief period when Martha had helped her dress. Poor Martha, she'd been rather shocked when they'd come downstairs, announcing their intentions of leaving. They hadn't explained the entire situation exactly, but their inability to let go of each other more than gave them away. David had returned from his errands to discover Mrs. Hughes entirely packed up and ready to depart. Martha had insisted they all eat first, before sending them off to catch the evening train. She had suggested that Mr. Carson might stay the night if he wished, but there didn't seem to be any point.

The train car was empty, save for them. Apparently the evening train to Yorkshire on a Wednesday night wasn't a particularly popular one. She squeezed his hand a little tighter, marveling at how quickly life could change. She hadn't imagined when she'd woken up that morning that she would ever be with him again, let alone all this.

The car jolted slightly, rattling the window and Mrs. Hughes bumped her head against the glass.

"Oh!"

He'd been dozing, but her cry made him sit up in alarm. "Are you all right?"

"It was more surprising than painful," she reassured him, rubbing her temple.

Mrs. Hughes elected not to rest her head back on the windowpane. Mr. Carson relaxed back in his seat, stroking her hand reflexively, soothing a non-existent wound. It was so pleasant just to sit next to him and hold his hand. She felt more alive than she had in a long time. It was almost frightening how important to her he was, how a simple touch or word from him could cause such a drastic change in her.

"Charles?" she asked. "What does it mean?"

He turned to face her fully. "What does what mean?"

She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to explain. "This…this retirement, marriage business… you coming to get me like…like something out of a novel. What does it mean?"

He thought long and hard about how to answer her. The depth of his affection was something that disconcerted him, and he had every desire not to put her off, not when they'd finally reached a solution they were both happy with. Eventually he settled on something of the truth. "It means we belong together, not apart," he told her.

"Mmm," she agreed, not content with his vague answer. "And?"

"And that I'm very fond of you."

"Fond of me," Elsie echoed. She seemed to accept this, or at least she decided not to push him anymore.

Yes, fond of you, thought Mr. Carson, adore you, love you. It wouldn't do to say such things, least of all while sitting in a train compartment. He was still thanking God that she'd agreed to come back at all; he would not frighten her away with such foolish talk. It didn't matter how he felt about her, all that mattered is that he wasn't going to lose her again.

"I'm very fond of you, too," she agreed, resting her head against his shoulder.

They sat in silence for a while, and she tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep. She felt tired all the time, despite sleeping more than she ever had before in her life. It didn't seem at all logical.

"They were nice you know," she said out of nowhere.

"What's that?"

"Martha and David, they were nice." He had not rescued her from some terrible situation. For some reason it was important to her that he understand that. She wasn't happy there - of that there was no doubt - but it hadn't been their fault.

"They seemed nice," he said, shifting slightly. He'd been dismayed to find her obviously unwell. He knew he shouldn't blame Martha or David for that; they seemed like reasonable people, but she was miserable with them. He couldn't help the tiny bit of resentment he held for these strangers that hadn't been able to give her the happy home she deserved.

And you think you can give her that? Niggling thoughts of how very unprepared he was for what he'd promised her kept appearing. He didn't know how to cook, not really, or how to keep a house, or what she might need his help with. He blushed to think of having to help her with her clothing or…well who knows what women needed, certainly not he. He would have to have Anna or Mrs. Patmore help. Surely they would agree to-

"They were nice," she repeated more firmly, interrupting his thoughts. "They were kind, and patient, and they tried to alleviate my guilt about being such a burden-"

"Elsie Hughes, you are not a burden."

She opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. She didn't want them to quarrel, and it would be a silly pointless argument anyway. She would insist that she was, and he would insist she wasn't, until one of them gave up in frustration. Her more than likely, given the tears that came to her eyes just thinking about it. She swallowed thickly, trying to refocus.

"Well, they were still nice," she said dully. She thought of Martha's embrace just before they'd gotten on the train. Her cousin had hugged her tight, Elsie remembered the feeling of her scratchy wool coat against her cheek, and the knowing words whispered in her ear. She was welcome to return if she wanted to, but that Martha was sure Elsie would be much happier back at Downton with her friend. The woman's emphasis had made her slightly uncomfortable, but she was grateful for the well wishes and for everything they'd done for her.

"Elsie?" He sounded uncertain, maybe even fearful. She prickled in alarm. "Are you…having second thoughts about this? Do you wish you'd stayed?"

"No!" she said quickly, her voice cracking to her frustration. "No, what I mean is that I …" she stumbled, trying to find the right words to make him understand. "I wanted…I would…"

"Shhhh, slow down," he murmured. She heeded his advice, taking a deep breath, and then another.

"I would have been all right with them," she said eventually. "But I would rather be with you."

I wasn't all right without you, Mr. Carson thought to himself, but he didn't voice it. "I'm glad then," he told her, adjusting his arm around her waist to pull her closer.

"Mmhmm," she agreed sleepily. Her head slipped from his shoulder to his chest, and for a moment Mr. Carson didn't think there could be any better feeling in the world.

The rocking of the train, and the warmth of being held against him was enough to lull her finally to sleep. He gazed fondly at her, mesmerized by her softness, the peaceful expression on her face, and the gentle rising and falling of her breathing. She trusted him, even more than he'd dared to hope. The thought filled him with confidence, pushing his fears and insecurities about their future to the side. Even if she never loved him as he loved her, that trust would surely be enough.

I'm going to do my best, Elsie, he vowed silently, as the train sped on. I promise.

When their train pulled into the Downton Station, Mr. Carson gently shook Mrs. Hughes awake. It was dark now, raining and cold, all facts he had not fully considered before deciding this journey was a good idea. A cab would be expensive, if they could even get ahold of one, but it was likely their best bet for getting them and their cases back to the house. They disembarked in silence, Mrs. Hughes clutching his arm tightly, still slightly drowsy from her nap.

Mr. Carson tipped his cap to one of the attendants, who had been kind enough to help them with their luggage. The cases formed a neat pile next to them, just under the awning so as not to be touched by the rain. Mr. Carson looked up and down the platform, trying to puzzle out in his head the best course of action.

Just when he was cursing himself for not thinking this through better, Anna burst out of the station door. "There you are!" she exclaimed brightly.

Mrs. Hughes turned at the sound of Anna's voice and Mr. Carson blinked in surprise to see the maid approach with Mr. Branson right behind her.

"How did you…?" stuttered Mr. Carson.

"We guessed," said Anna. "I am very pleased to see you, Mrs. Hughes."

Mrs. Hughes could only nod, as Anna gave her arm a familiar squeeze.

"It was raining, so we thought you might like the car, and it wasn't being used for anything, " explained Mr. Branson.

Mr. Carson beamed at Anna, unable to convey in words how grateful he was to her. She seemed to understand, and the lady's maid was all smiles to see Mrs. Hughes back. She looped her arm around the older woman's and started to lead them towards the car, chatting away as if nothing had happened. Mr. Branson just smirked silently at Mr. Carson as he helped him with the luggage. Mr. Carson couldn't even bring himself to be angry at the cheeky man's self-satisfied grin. He was just relieved the journey was to be over soon.

As they were not yet married, Mrs. Hughes did not go directly to the cottage that night with Mr. Carson, but instead with Anna, who had invited her to stay in the Bateses' spare room. It seemed that Anna, very meticulous in her planning, had anticipated this need. Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes were both grateful for the young woman's foresight and thoughtfulness. It was quite late by the time they made it to the Bateses' cottage, and Mr. Carson whispered Mrs. Hughes a hurried goodnight with a promise that he would come see her in the morning. Despite spending the night in another strange bed, Mrs. Hughes slept better than she had in several weeks.

Mr. Carson, on the other hand, had a terrible time of it. He spent the night tossing and turning, eventually giving up entirely to wander the empty cottage, wishing she were there. He felt silly. She'd agreed to come back already, all there was to do was to see Mr. Travis and sign a bit of paperwork and then she would be there with him. The difficult part was over. It was only formalities now, and yet he was still unsettled. Nothing was as sure as he wanted it to be.

He sat in the living room, trying to imagine that she was asleep safe and sound on the other side of the wall, instead of over in the Bateses' cottage. When that failed to soothe him, he permitted himself an old daydream, one that had recently come true on the train: her sleeping curled up against him, her head resting comfortably on his chest. It was only dreaming of this, which finally allowed him to fall asleep.

TBC...