The wedding night

Ahh! Feels! :') I don't think I want to add to the actual wedding, just the bits we didn't get to see. And a few more champagne kisses – they must be a Chelsie tradition by now surely?!

'Thank you, Mr Branson. This really is too kind of you.' The newly married Mrs Carson said as Mr Branson bowed theatrically to her opening the back door to the car. She laughed.

'The pleasure is most definitely mine, Mrs Carson. It was the least I could do after crashing your wedding.' She grinned, sliding herself into the back seat followed by her husband. She beamed to herself again. She loved the feeling that spread through her body each time she thought of Mr Carson as her husband. They were quiet for some time as they left the school house. They had smiled and waved and chatted all afternoon, and it was beginning to catch up on them.

Mr Branson looked into the mirror. His passengers had been quiet for the last twenty minutes, he didn't mind. He remembered his wedding, he'd barely seen Sybil for most of the day. Even when they had sat together, they had barely managed a sentence before some kind and well-meaning relative had offered congratulations. He half expected them to be asleep. He flicked his eyes back to the road smiling to himself.

Mr Carson had his arm round his wife's shoulder, her head resting against him. Their hands were laced together at her shoulder and Mr Branson suspected, although he couldn't see that far, their other hands would be clasped together too. Mrs Carson caught his eye and smiled. He returned his gaze to the road and didn't look back at them.

Mr Carson lifted his wife's hand to his mouth and kissed it. She looked up at him.

'Happy?' he asked her quietly.

'Blissfully' he kissed her nose. 'I don't know when I've been this tired and been happy about it.' He smiled, snuggling her closer to him.

'Go to sleep, we'll be another half an hour at least until we're in York.' She nodded, resting her head against his and closing her eyes. Mr Carson listened to her breathing even out in seconds. He suspected she had slept about as little as he had last night. He looked out of the window for a moment, then back at his bride. He grinned. It almost felt like a dream.

A gentle cough woke him sometime later. He blinked and looked at Mr Branson's face in the front seat.

'We're here.' He said softly. Mr Carson blushed.

'Sorry, we're clearly too old for all this excitement.' Mr Branson chuckled.

'Not a problem, Mr Carson. I was thinking on my way here about my wedding. I was so nervous before hand I didn't sleep properly for weeks, we were half asleep at the table by the time we got to desert.' They nodded and smiled at each other, both conveying the obvious loss both of them felt. 'She would be absolutely beside herself with happiness over you two. She once said you'd be well suited together.'

'Thank you, Mr Branson. That's very kind of you to say. I know I didn't always agree with the decisions you both made, but I know you both loved each other very much. I'm very glad you had that time together however brief. I'm also very glad you've come back. We were all missing you and Miss Sybbie.' Both men then cleared their throats and looked away from each other for a moment. They looked back and laughed.

'Thank you, Mr Carson.' He paused 'I feel we need to talk about cars or guns or something now.' Mr Carson laughed again and his wife stirred in his arms. He stroked her cheek.

'Hello sleepy.' He said. She blinked up at him.

'You laughing at me?' she asked groggily.

'No' he said, helping her to a more upright position. 'Laughing at each other.' He indicated Mr Branson.

'We were getting morose and soppy and were searching for more masculine subjects to discuss. We have arrived by the way, my lady!' Mr Branson announced. She laughed.

'Thank you, Mr Branson. I shall expect to see you in my sitting room when we get back, I am well overdue for tea and biscuits with yourself and Miss Sybbie.'

'Your wish is my command, Mrs Carson.' After helping them both from the car and handing the luggage to Mr Carson, he smiled at them both. 'Have a lovely honeymoon. Just telephone if you want a lift from the station on the way back.' They both thanked him, Mrs Carson with a kiss on his cheek and Mr Carson with a shake of his hand and they entered the Royal Oak hotel. They had intended to spend the night in the station hotel, before catching the train to Scarborough in the morning.

'Mr and Mrs Carson' Mr Carson said to the man who greeted them at the reception desk. The man gave the couple an odd look, before they both realised they were smiling in a slightly giddy manner. 'We have a reservation.' He continued. The man at the desk checked his book and nodded.

'Right this way, madam, sir.' He took the cases from Mr Carson, who slipped his hand back into his wife's and gestured for them to follow him.

Once in their room, Mrs Hughes sat down heavily on a chair in front of a small dressing table, and slipped off her gloves and shoes, before reaching for her hat pin. She turned to her husband and smiled lovingly at him.

'Are you not coming in?' He was still stood beside the door he had just closed on the desk clerk. He nodded walking towards her.

'Did I tell you how beautiful you looked today? I'm ashamed to say I can't remember.' She blushed.

'I think not. I believe you may be mistaken, I'm sure the younger ladies looked more beautiful, but I'm glad I didn't have to wear the dress I had.' He pulled out another chair and sat beside her, taking her hands.

'To me you are beautiful.' He said, lovingly. 'No matter how old and grey we get, you will always be beautiful.'

'You mean that, don't you?' He moved one hand to stroke her cheek. 'I know you told Mrs Patmore that, but…' she trailed off. His thumb was gently running over the skin on her cheek and it was becoming difficult to concentrate on anything else.

'I mean it. Far more than just being tidy.' She laughed.

'We owe Mrs Patmore a lot as it turns out. The dress was her doing, the coat is Her Ladyship's, curtesy of Lady Mary's insistence and Miss Baxter's sewing into the night.'

'And Anna did your hair?' she nodded. 'I shall thank them all profusely on our return.'

'I'll be back to boring old Elsie in the morning.' She warned.

'I happen to be very fond of her and she is neither boring nor old.' She smiled. He kissed her again, a little longer this time.

When they parted, she looked nervously back at him, her gaze straying to the bed and back.

'Are you as nervous as I am?' he asked. She laughed, taking his hands.

'Just hold my hand and we'll feel steady in no time.' She said reassuringly. She was nervous, they both knew it. But it didn't seem to bother her in the way it had a few weeks ago. Eventually, they set about locating night clothes and wash things.

Mrs Carson sat stared at the bathroom door that had just closed behind him. She adjusted the belt of her dressing gown around her waist. She had chosen a new nightdress the previous week on her half day in Ripon, but she had seen no need for new dressing gown. She liked this one and it made her feel comfortable, which right now she needed. She liked the nightgown she'd chosen though, it was the soft comforting cotton that she liked, but it was slightly lower cut. The sleeves were also a little shorter and she selected one with a fine lace trim around the neckline. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she wasn't too disappointed in her appearance. The nightgown had looked nice when she'd stood in front of the bathroom mirror. A nice balance between comfort and making her feel more attractive, and certainly better than one or two she'd looked at in the catalogue. She smiled to herself, smoothing her hands over her dressing gown again, before setting about removing the pins from her hair.

With her hair brushed and freshly plaited, she smiled to herself again and turned to look round the room. It was then she noticed the bottle of champagne on a small table by the window. She walked across to it and picked up the small card leant against it. 'Mr and Mrs Carson' was written on the front, but it was in handwriting she did not recognise.

'We have a mystery champagne post person' she announced when Mr Carson appeared behind her in a new pair of striped pyjamas. He placed a hand on her shoulder and stroked it gently. She passed him the card and he opened it, having to first reluctantly remove his hand and replacing it as soon as he had discarded the envelope. She smiled at him.

'I hope you don't mind, but I thought you deserved an extra treat. Have a lovely week. Many congratulations again, Love Mary.' He read. Mrs Carson smiled.

'She really loves you, you know.'

'She doesn't dislike you, Mrs Hughes.' He said, firmly.

'Elsie.' She said softly. He blinked at her. 'We're not working, we're married, we're standing in the middle of a bedroom, and you don't even have any socks on.' She teased, pointing at his bare feet. 'I think now is a time when Elsie is perfectly acceptable.' He chuckled.

'Elsie.' He smiled. 'Shall we?' he said, indicating the bottle.

'Yes please… Charles.' She said tentatively, testing out how it felt to say his first name to him. He turned back to her, forgetting the half open bottle cork in his hands. It popped loudly making them both jump and splashing bubbles on the front of his pyjama shirt. They both burst into giggles. He put the bottle down and slipped his arms round her, pulling her to him.

'Sorry' she said, resting her hands on his chest. 'I didn't mean to surprise you. I wanted to see what it felt like.'

'Say it again.' He said, resting his chin on her head. She was just the right height now without her shoes.

'Charles.' She purred, rolling the r's a little.

'Try Charlie.' She smiled up at him, surprised.

'I didn't think you liked being called that anymore.'

'I don't particularly mind, I was never Charles until I came to Downton. I can't imagine the Dowager Countess having been too happy to address her new footman as Charlie. And at the time I wasn't bothered. I was trying to forget about the less than cheerful end to the Charlies', it felt right to be Charles. But that was a very long time ago now and anyway, I suspect I'd like the sound of it from you.'

'Charlie' she purred, her eyes sparkling.

His lips were on hers before she'd finished the word. Her arms slipped round his neck and his cradled her hips. She sighed into him, pressing her body closer to his. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and she groaned, opening her mouth slightly and finding his tongue with hers.

They parted, several moments later, warm and breathless. He poured her a glass of champagne and handed it to her before pouring his own.

'Perhaps, don't call me that at work.' He said, gently tapping his glass against hers. She chuckled.

'Your shirt's still damp with champagne.' She observed, several sips later. She toyed with his top button.

'I should probably take it off and leave it somewhere to dry then.' He purred softly.

'I think it would be best.' She replied, putting her, now empty, glass down on the table and undoing the button she'd been playing with. 'It would make sense to get into bed so you don't get cold.' She continued. He caressed the tops of her arms with his hands, smiling down at her.

'Very sensible.' He agreed, tugging gently on the tails of the bow that was holding her dressing gown in place. 'You might have to join me though. I'll be lonely in that big bed without you.' Her lips found his again and their worries and insecurities seemed to slip away.