A/N: Here we go – the rest of the "date," I suppose. I've loved responding to all of your reviews, and shout out once again to all of you who review as a "guest." I encourage you to open an account on the website, even if only so that authors can reply to your reviews. (You need not be a writer, or even make a list of favorites, etc. in order to do this, it just means we, the authors, can converse with you, the readers.)

Some "M" ness here again. Drop me a line and let me know how you're doing! I know you all want Elsie's backstory, and I've mentioned to a few of you that it's coming in stages. That starts next chapter, FYI ... and ends in another.

xx

Saturday, October 4

Elsie still had her eyes closed, but she could tell the sun had barely started to rise. She was vaguely aware of waking up in a strange yet comfortable place, and she was gradually pulling herself from the clutches of the dream she'd been having. It was quiet in this place, though, and she couldn't figure out at first why there was no rooster crowing her wake-up call. The only sounds she could hear were the muted crashing of the tide and … ah, yes … the soft breathing of the man who lay fast asleep around her.

And he was, in fact, around her. She smiled as she realized that she'd rolled on her side and cocooned herself in his arms at some point during the night. Now he was spooning her, his arms wrapped around her and his breath ruffling her hair; their legs were intertwined to the point where she wasn't quite sure where hers ended and his began. And she liked it, liked having the weight of half his body on hers. She wondered how he wasn't crushing her, as though even in his sleep he was attentive to being gentle, and she loved the knowledge that she would be completely free to move about if she wanted to … which, at the moment, she did not.

Her mind flitted back over the last twelve hours - their date, as it were: how they'd gone to dinner; that ease with which they'd conversed and gotten to know one another on a deeper level; the dancing, the wine, the kisses that had so quickly become more intense than anything she'd imagine sharing with him that night (no, that's not true, Elsie … you imagined it, you just never expected it); how he had carried her to his bed, and had, indeed, made her ever so happy that she stayed.

And Elsie was a bit startled to find herself happy - happier than she'd been in a great many years, in fact, if she were to be perfectly honest with herself, and far happier than she felt she had a right to be. It was both terrifying and liberating, and she took these quiet, early moments to enjoy the sensation, hoping yet trying not to expect that she'd have many more mornings when she'd wake wrapped up in his embrace, mornings when she'd be reminded of how good it felt to share herself so completely with another person, both physically and emotionally. The fact that Daisy was not typically sleeping over at someone else's home was warning enough that this would not be a regular occurrence.

Not yet, anyhow. But soon, I think. I hope.

Just then, she heard his deep, drawn-out breaths begin to shorten, become more shallow, and she knew that he was waking. She brought her fingers up to his arm, caressing it gently without making a sound. She could feel his face, which was still buried in her hair, move slightly, and she knew that he was smiling.

"You smell wonderful," came his deep voice, and she laughed softly.

"Thank you." She felt his arms tighten slightly and she tucked in, allowing him to pull her a bit closer as he spoke.

"So this was not a dream, then, if you're still here and I'm fairly sure I'm awake? Because this is all quite similar to a dream I've had recently, I don't mind saying."

"No," she cooed, turning her head as he bent down to nuzzle her cheek. "It's not a dream, but I agree that it does feel like one. I certainly didn't expect to end up here when you picked me up twelve hours ago." She felt his arms stiffen, and knew instantly that she'd caused him to worry.

"But you're not upset? Not having second thoughts? Regrets?"

"Definitely not," she reassured him, bending her head a bit to place a kiss just below his shoulder. "I'm a little overwhelmed, exceptionally happy, and a tiny bit afraid."

"Afraid of what?" he enquired, now fully awake but refusing to move away from her. He stared down at her body, or what he could see of it anyhow, and smiled, remembering how a kiss placed here and how a touch just there had the most wonderful effects on her. But he didn't move; he simply waited for her to gather her thoughts.

She took a few slow, deep breaths, willing herself to maintain calm. She felt his arms tighten around her a bit more, and appreciated the gesture, understanding it for what it was: a desire to protect her from whatever it was that she feared.

"Of how I could stay in this bed and never leave. Of how you make me feel."

She rolled over in his arms and tucked her head into his chest, her forehead almost against his collarbone as he adjusted his body to hold her in that new position.

"Which is how?" he gently prodded, rubbing his hand up and down her back.

She huffed out a laugh. "Beautiful. Safe … protected, as though you'd never let anything happen to me." She rolled the next word around in her head, debating it for a moment, then gave up the struggle. "Maybe loved," she whispered.

His hum rumbled through his chest, the vibration of it on her forehead causing her to smile. "I see. And you see that as a bad thing?"

She leaned back so that she could face him, then stretched up to kiss him. What she intended to be a brief peck turned into something softer, more languid, more loving that she'd planned. It only reinforced the feeling she had, and she broke away before it could turn into something more.

"Charles," she warned, feeling him begin to stir against her leg.

"I know - you'll need to leave in a while. I remember," he told her with a smirk. "Why don't we get up and I'll make some tea. Let's catch the rest of the sunrise together, shall we?"

"That sound wonderful," she said gratefully. "And I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but I just realized you'll need to drive me home. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to have to get up so -"

He silenced her by placing a fingertip to her lips. "Don't you dare apologize for spending the night in my arms, Elsie Hughes. Not. One. Word."

She smiled at him, and the gentleness she saw in his eyes melted her completely.

"Alright," she whispered against his finger.

Charles got up and grabbed some pajama pants from his drawer, then reached for his bathrobe.

"Here," he said, handing it to her. "It's warmer than your dress, if you'd like."

"Thank you. I just need the loo and then I'll be out."

He kissed her forehead and brushed his hand over her quite-mussed hair. "See you in a bit," he answered before heading to the bathroom down the hall.

Elsie rolled onto her back once again and stretched, encouraging her muscles to wake up. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, smiling once again at the fact that she was actually in his bed. She swung her feet out and stood up slowly, retrieved her clothing from the floor, and made her way into the en-suite. She didn't bother getting dressed yet, just folded everything and washed up a bit, then used Charles's comb to straighten her hair as best she could. Five minutes later she emerged, dressed only in his luxurious robe, and made her way to the kitchen.

"That looks better on you than it does on me," he quipped as she entered the kitchen. He smiled at the sight: a slightly-mussed Elsie absolutely dwarfed in his enormous robe, its hem almost reaching her ankles. He handed her a cup of tea, then put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her head.

"This is rather domestic, isn't it?" she mused. "Certainly not what most women find themselves doing after tumbling into a man's bed the night before, I would imagine."

"Well, I would hope not," he huffed. "I'd hate for you to think last night was anything of that sort, something of which you'd find yourself ashamed in the morning."

"I'm not ashamed, Charles. I'm rather chuffed that you wanted me, to tell the truth. Come on, let's head out or we'll miss it all."

He took up his own teacup, clasped her hand, and led her out to the front porch. The sea breeze was chilly despite the fact that the house blocked them from most of it, and he pulled a blanket down from the back of the sofa. He nodded his head and indicated for her to sit, and then he joined her and wrapped the blanket around them both, being sure to cover her bare feet.

"Your toes are freezing!"

"They are," she agreed, "but I was ill-prepared to be sitting near the ocean at dawn."

"Next time you should bring a bag," he ventured.

She turned to look up at him. "Next time? Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I am," he reassured her. "Why do you find that so hard to believe?"

Elsie just shook her head. "Don't mind me," she said softly. "I'm not making much sense. Didn't sleep much, you know," she added with a raised eyebrow.

"But something is holding you back," he said seriously, and she nodded, then turned so that she could lean back on his chest.

Charles said nothing more. He didn't want to press - she'd confide in him when she was ready.

"You'll have to tell her," Elsie said eventually, and he understood immediately.

"I know. And I don't mean to give you the idea that it's not important to me to do so as soon as possible, it's just …"

"Charles, I understand. The poor girl's just lost her mother, and clearly she's been in a tailspin from that. But … well, I don't think we can easily sneak around. It's not my style anyway, and I don't think it's yours."

"No, it isn't."

He said nothing else but wrapped his arms around her, inhaling the scent that he already associated with her: something about her shampoo, perfume … and just Elsie. They spent the next ten minutes in silence, allowing themselves to be lulled by the warmth of the tea and the sound of the waves crashing up on to the beach. As the sun came up fully, its light streaked the sky with a gorgeous array of purples, reds, oranges, and yellows, filtered beautifully through the wooded area before them.

"It's most beautiful in the fall, I think," Elsie mused, and she turned to face him when she heard Charles gasp.

"The 'fall?'" he asked, pretending to be horrified. "Don't tell me the beautiful Scotswoman has become an American?"

Her laughter tinkled out over the porch and she swatted his leg playfully. "Fine, the sunrises in autumn are the most beautiful. Does that make you feel better, my using the proper term?"

"It does," he answered, his eyebrows raised over twinkling eyes.

Elsie sighed and shook her head. "You're such a wonderful man, you know," she whispered, tracing her finger down his cheek. "However did I manage to end up here with you?"

"Well," Charles began, taking her empty teacup and resting it on the side table next to his own, "first of all, you play classical music in your office."

She smiled up at him. "That is true, I do."

He bent down and kissed her quickly on the lips. "And," he added, "my daughter adores you."

"Hmm," she mused, looking down at his chest and playing with the sparse, silver hair with her fingertips. "That is rather important, and I am honored that she does. I adore her, you know."

"I was starting to get that impression, and I'm very thankful for it." Kiss. "And I shall tell her, in due time. Until then, though …" Elsie nodded her understanding.

He laughed suddenly, startling her a bit. "You took me to dinner!" he exclaimed, placing yet another kiss to her lips.

"I did," she said gleefully, "and you allowed it."

"Hmph, so I did. In my defense, though, you brought me to a place that you knew I would fall in love with - that was smart of you. You're quite the plotter, I think. Dinner, drinks, piano … I'll have you know, I'm not often moved to tears, Elsie, but watching you play was beautiful."

"And then you kissed me," she added, "and then we danced."

"And then we danced," he agreed, "and any hope I'd had of not losing my heart completely was gone in a flash."

Charles saw Elsie close her eyes and breathe deeply. He almost regretted allowing them to escape his lips, but not quite – she should know, he told himself. He reached up and brushed his fingertips down her jawline, then smiled as she leaned into the warmth of his hand.

"I do hope I haven't shocked you," he said quietly, "but, given the circumstances, I decided it best to be completely honest." He licked his lips, then plunged in with both feet. "I think I'm in love with you, Elsie. And I suspect that you are at least a little in love with me, if last night was any indication; if not, then you've got me completely fooled." He paused, then added in an awe-filled whisper, "I've never felt so close to anyone, in all ways, as I felt to you last night."

Elsie took another deep breath, allowing his words to sink in and settle in her mind.

"I'm not shocked," she began. "Nor are you incorrect. I am falling in love with you, and quite a bit faster than I'd have thought possible. But there are things about me that you need to know, Charles … things that may affect your decision to be with me ... things that may make you question my motives."

"I doubt that," he said firmly, "but I'll listen whenever you're ready."

He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, capturing her mouth once again in a powerful, searing kiss. She opened her lips and he ran his tongue over hers, causing her once again to moan deeply into his mouth. She moved in his arms and swung her legs up and around him so that she was straddling his lap, and she grasped his face in her hands and ran her fingers through his hair, noticing how the sunlight reflected off the silver at his temples.

"I will tell you - soon - but not today," she said, kissing him once again.

His hands traveled down to cup her bottom, and he squeezed it firmly and pulled her more tightly against his own body, remembering that she wore nothing underneath his enormous robe. "How much time do you have, exactly?" he whispered, nuzzling her ear.

"No more than an hour, or they'll hate me," she gasped as he nipped at the lobe, and he knew she meant the horses. "But that is a decent amount of time, wouldn't you say?" She let her own hands wander down between them, then unbuttoned the opening of his pajama pants just as he pulled open the front of the robe, and his eyes fluttered closed at her touch.

"God, Elsie," he groaned, instantly ready for her. He moved his hands to her waist and she grabbed onto his shoulders, lifting herself up and then sliding down very slowly as they both gasped with pleasure at the wonderful, still-new sensation of being together.