A/N: To the person whose guest review started with "My. Feels. Are. Gone." - thank you! Made me laugh out loud in the waiting room of a doctor's office! :) I wish you and the other guest reviewers had accounts so that I could reply in person to you all.
Guess what? This chapter has a song accompaniment! Tony Martin's I Get Ideas is the song to which Charles and Elsie are dancing at the end. It can easily be found on YouTube, but I've started a Spotify playlist under my username (chelsiesouloftheabbey) which is entitled, "After the Fall." :)
xx,
CSotA
Edith and Bertie's wedding was to be held on Saturday, December 20, allowing for a school vacation honeymoon that wouldn't interfere with Edith's work schedule. The planning had gone easily, as demand for weddings in a small town were few and far between, and the major details had already been worked out.
It would be a simple church affair, with Marigold as flower girl and no other attendants; a threesome, coming together as one, in front of their tightly-knit group of family and friends. The reception that was to follow would be held at the Misty Cove Seaside - the most upscale establishment in town - at Robert and Cora's insistence; it was to be part of their gift, after all.
Edith had asked Beryl if she would cater the event, and the menu had been decided in three days. Beryl had prepared a vast array of things for them to sample, and they'd settled on a choice of baked stuffed scallops (Edith wishing to take advantage of their fortuitous seaside location) or filet mignon (Bertie's all-time favorite dish). The cake would be white with a chocolate ganache frosting and raspberry-crème filling, a specialty of Beryl's. Mary had gotten the announcement in the paper, of course. Robert, Cora, and Violet were scheduled to arrive from England on the 18th.
The end of November found Elsie and Edith shopping for dresses – for Edith and for Marigold, of course, but for Elsie as well. She didn't own many formal dresses – there wasn't much need for them in Misty Cove, after all – and the last wedding she'd attended had been many years ago. She wanted something special, wanted to be sure she would good on Charles's arm; it would be their first official "date" in front of their friends and the people who were, for all intents and purposes, his family. Elsie considered Edith a close friend, but she'd only met the "Yorkshire Crawleys" a handful of times, and even then it was usually just a quick handshake at church. She wasn't terribly confident that they'd feel a farmer/nurse from Maine would be worthy of the wonderful man they'd adopted into their family, and the pressure to make a good impression was weighing heavily upon her.
"Elsie?" Edith's voice called to her gently from across a rack of dresses. "Are you in there?"
"Sorry," Elsie replied sheepishly. "Just woolgathering, I suppose."
Edith looked at her and smiled understandingly. "Everything is going to be fine. I promise."
"Hm." Elsie nibbled on her lip, looking at Edith's encouraging expression. "We'll see. Your grandmother …"
"... loves Uncle Charlie as much as she does Papa, and she'll love you for the way you care for him. She'll spot that in a minute, you can be sure."
"I'm sure Mary's none too thrilled about it," Elsie couldn't help but add under her breath.
"Mary's opinion matters to Mary," Edith said with no small trace of snark, "and, occasionally, to the others. But Granny will love you, mark my words, and that will seal the deal."
Elsie sighed and nodded, and she began flicking dresses across the rack once again. She thought she might want something blue, since she'd worn red to the restaurant on their last date.
Date … hm. It was one hell of a 'date,' Elsie.
As Elsie pulled a few items off the rack, she considered the possibilities. The Crawleys would be spending the week after the wedding at Edith's home, with Marigold; Daisy had already asked to sleep over at their house the night of the wedding and also for half of the vacation week. Elsie and Charles had not discussed it yet, but Elsie knew it was a distinct possibility that they would spend at least one of those nights together - a thought that she found both thrilling and frightening. She was hesitant to move their relationship too much further ahead until she came clean about everything; she'd have to explain about Becky, which didn't seem too terrible, but she'd also have to tell him about Joe.
Best not leave that too much longer, Els.
Sighing frustratedly, Elsie pulled herself back to the present once again and headed into the dressing room. Five minutes later, she emerged, looking around for Edith.
"Oh, Elsie!" Edith gushed. "Yes - yes! That is gorgeous! Oh, you simply must buy it!"
The dress that Elsie had on was midnight blue in color, and it was set just off of her shoulders. The bodice plunged a bit lower than she'd have normally liked, but its fitted design suited her. Edith approached her and turned her around, then took Elsie's hair and swept it up in a twist as she stood behind her friend and made her look in the mirror.
"Like that," Edith said, nodding. "You're going to be the most beautiful woman at my wedding, myself included!"
Elsie shook her head, causing her hair to cascade back down around her shoulders. "Oh, I doubt that very much. That dress you've chosen is absolutely incredible," she said, pointing at the one hanging up by the register. "I love that you've gone with something vintage - it suits you. And they don't have to alter so much as a stitch!"
"Yes, I did get lucky finding that. I didn't even want a white dress, not really, but Bertie insisted that we 'do it right' as neither of us were ever married before." She stopped speaking suddenly, tears springing to her eyes.
"Oh, come now, dear," Elsie said, wrapping Edith in a hug. "It's alright, you know. Bertie knows this is difficult for you - he knows how hard it was for you to lose Michael so soon before you were to have been married. It's alright to regret that you never had that time with him. It doesn't mean you love Bertie any less."
Edith nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her finger. "And settling Michael's affairs was what brought me into Bertie's office in the first place." She laughed then, a short bark that startled Elsie with its harshness. "You know, Granny never wanted me to marry Michael. Did I ever tell you that?"
"No, you didn't," Elsie replied, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Whyever not?"
"She said that we'd 'done things backward,' having Marigold out of wedlock. She felt that rushing into a marriage was a foolhardy idea, something that I was - and I quote - 'not entirely prepared for.' She claimed it would be a disaster of epic proportion."
"Well, she was wrong," Elsie said firmly, her own insecurities about Violet Crawley creeping back in. "You and Michael adored one another."
"We did. And I do love Bertie so very much. He has been so kind and patient, and he has always wanted children. Marigold adores him."
Elsie took Edith's hand in hers and squeezed it. "Of course she does, because he's perfect."
Edith stood up suddenly and cleared her throat to compose herself. "Get that dress, Elsie. Because Bertie's not the only perfect man who'll be at this wedding."
Elsie's eyes looked downward and fiddled with the skirt fabric, feeling uncomfortable once again. She looked back up only when Edith reached out to squeeze her hand.
"I know," Elsie whispered. "And that scares me."
"Tell him," Edith said. "Just tell him everything. I promise you, he'll understand."
"That's what Phyllis said, too. And Beryl, when she gave me the third degree last week. But they don't know him like you do, so it didn't really help much. Oh, for heaven's sake! I'm a forty-four-year-old woman who's been acting like a teenager, aren't I?"
"Ummm … well, yes, sort of. No worries, Elsie. I know my family. They're going to be so happy for you both. And Uncle Charlie is one in a million."
"Yes," Elsie admitted with a smile, "he certainly is."
"Good! Now that we have that settled," Edith said, turning Elsie around and shoving her back into the dressing room, "go and take this dress off so that we can pay for everything and get out of here! I need tea and biscuits if I'm going to tackle that seating chart, and I still need to find a dress for Marigold."
December 20
Elsie put the finishing touches on her hair and reached for her earrings, trying to remind herself that Charles wanted her on his arm at this wedding. Just as she put the last backing on, the doorbell sounded. Max started barking furiously, and Elsie came down the hall shushing him and wondering why in the world he was barking at Charles, whom he'd never barked at before.
However, when she opened the door it was not Charles who greeted her, but a liveried chauffeur, who tipped his hat upon seeing her.
"Ms. Hughes? I am Stevens. I am here to collect you for the wedding."
Elsie peeked behind him and spotted a charcoal gray limousine, next to which Charles was standing with his hands casually tucked into the pants pockets of a rather dashing, single-breasted tuxedo … complete with blue tie to match her dress.
Oh, Edith, Elsie thought fondly. You didn't have to do that.
Elsie had half-expected the tux - it was, after all, a Crawley family event. But oh, did Charles look wonderful. Elsie took a deep breath and swallowed, trying to collect herself. She was painfully aware that she and Charles had barely spent any time alone together since she'd spent that night at the beach and, God help her, she just wanted to drag him into the house and shut the door in poor Stevens's face.
"Of course you are," she squeaked. "I'll be just a moment."
"Very good, ma'am."
She ran back in for her shoes and wrap, then tossed a lipstick in her clutch and headed out to the limo. As she approached Charles, she saw the look of appreciation on his face. When she got even closer her wrap slipped a bit, and Elsie blushed when she saw his eyebrows rise dramatically as he glanced down at the front of her dress.
"Good evening, Mr. Carson," she greeted him.
"Ms. Hughes, you look stunning," he replied, reaching down for a kiss which she happily gave him.
Remembering that there was a chauffeur standing at the ready, Elsie got into the car and Charles followed suit. He then nodded to Stevens that they were all settled, and the door was firmly closed.
Elsie had never been in a limousine, and she was rather taken by the luxury of it. The seats were of the softest leather, and there was champagne set out for the two of them. The moon roof was closed because of the cold, but through it Elsie could see the stars.
"Charles, you didn't have to do this," she said quietly.
He picked up her hand and kissed it gently, then squeezed it and laid it on his knee. "I would love to take the credit, but it was Edith's plan. I'm glad to have the time alone with you, though, despite how short of a ride it is. Champagne?"
Elsie giggled; it was music to his ears. "Why not?"
He handed her a glass, then clinked his to it. "Here's to a lovely evening."
She nodded and drank a sip, then leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth, pulling away before he could deepen it.
"I feel like quite the lady!" she exclaimed.
Charles smiled at her, and she saw all the desire and – yes, she was almost sure - love in his eyes.
"You are, and I intend to spend quite a bit of time making you realize it."
Elsie flushed once again, unsure of whether it was embarrassment, desire, or the champagne - and figuring it was a combination of all three. Yes, she thought, just like a teenager - get a bloody grip, Elsie!
"Daisy must have had fun getting ready with Marigold," she mused.
Charles nodded. "Yes, I dropped her off this morning, which was wonderful for Edith because Daisy kept Marigold occupied. She's looking forward to staying tonight." He looked at Elsie uncertainly, not wanting to ask the inevitable question: Would she come home with him?
But Elsie avoided that by now, surprising him instead. "It's lovely that you're all so close. The Crawleys must have been such a comfort when Alice died."
"Yes, they were," he said. "Daisy wouldn't speak to them, of course, but it didn't matter. Cora, in particular, was just magnificent. She was a teaching assistant when she met Robert, did you know that?"
Elsie shook her head. "No, I didn't. But she gave it up?"
"She did, but she was quite good at it. Taught in an art classroom - she has a degree in Art History. She's amazing with children, it's no surprise where Edith gets it from."
"And Daisy loves art," Elsie murmured, another detail that clicked into place. "How blessed you are to have them."
"I truly am," he said, taking her hand in his. "I've been blessed in a number of ways in my life," he added, "and I hope my good fortune continues."
They rode the rest of the way to the church in silence, lost in thoughts of the implications of his statement.
The service was lovely, and Elsie couldn't have been happier for Edith. The couple had dispensed with the idea of "bride's side / groom's side" seating as Bertie had virtually no family to speak of; therefore, as Elsie glanced around the small crowd, she was happy to note that everyone was fairly well mixed together.
Charles was considered part of the family, though, which meant that he, Daisy, and Elsie were seated in second pew on the left. Elsie heard every word of Bertie's wavering vows, and her heart skipped a beat when the poor man almost didn't make it through the final words, 'until death do us part.' But Edith's voice rang loud and clear and, when she uttered the last syllable, Elsie noticed both Charles and, surprisingly, Mary, wipe away a few tears.
Well, well … the ice princess has feelings after all. Elsie knew her sentiments weren't fair, but she just couldn't help but be suspicious of the elder Crawley daughter.
As the newly-married Pelhams made their way back down the aisle, Elsie gave a small wave across the aisle to Phyllis and Joe, happy that they'd come together.
Finally, Elsie thought. It certainly took them long enough.
She took Charles's arm as they followed the family out of the church, noticing Daisy's happy gait as she trotted along in front of them, holding Marigold's hand. The two girls were almost like sisters, a thought that made Elsie's heart twinge for a moment.
Charles noticed the pained expression, and he bent down to whisper in her ear. "Are you alright?"
"I am," she replied, squeezing his arm. "But thank you for checking."
He said nothing in reply, but told himself to keep a careful eye on her for the rest of the evening. Something had made her sad and, even though she tried to hide it, Charles found he was already quite adept at reading the feelings that passed over her face. He just wished he knew what it was that had so briefly upset her.
Four limousines carried the family to the reception: Bertie and Edith in the first, Robert, Cora, Violet, and the children in the second; Mary and Richard Carlisle in the third; and Charles and Elsie bringing up the rear. The hotel was five minutes from the church, and Elsie and Charles simply enjoyed the calm of the ride before the flurry of activity and chatter that the reception would bring.
Charles leaned down and whispered in Elsie's ear as they pulled up to the front of the hotel. "Will you save a dance for me?" he asked, and she shuddered as his breath warmed the skin on her neck.
She turned swiftly and captured his lips in a quick kiss. "I'll save them all for you, if you'd like."
His brilliant smile as he exited the car made Mary, who'd been waiting for them to arrive, wonder just what, exactly, they'd been up to.
"Well, now, that is quite the story!" Elsie laughed, draining the remainder of her third glass of wine. Violet was laughing uproariously, only stopping when she saw the look on Charles's face.
"Oh, come now, Charles, surely you can trust Elsie here not to spill your secrets?" she teased.
"Oh, Charles, I never would!" Elsie promised, breaking into giggles again at sight of him pouting.
"Well, evidently I can't trust you lot not to spill them! And how was I to know the fish would bite? I didn't know it would have teeth!" he argued, shooting a nasty look across the table at a rather-drunk Robert. "You certainly never warned me," he grumbled.
But then the band started playing a new song, and Charles's expression turned into a happy smile as he recognized it.
"Care to dance?" he asked Elsie, extending his hand.
"I thought you'd never ask," she murmured, excusing herself to the others as she allowed Charles to lead her onto the dance floor. Once again, they both marveled at how easily they fit together - her now in heels, of course, making it even nicer. Elsie started a bit when Charles bent down, thinking he was looking to kiss her in front of the entire family, but instead he began to softly serenade her with the words to the song:
When we are dancing
And you're dangerously near me
I get ideas, I get ideas
I want to hold you
So much closer than I dare to
I want to scold you
'Cause I care more than I care to
And when you touch me
And there's fire in every finger
I get ideas, I get ideas
And after we have kissed goodnight
And still you linger
I kinda think you get ideas too
Your eyes are always saying
The things you're never saying
I only hope they're saying
That you could love me too
For that's the whole idea, it's true
The lovely idea that
I'm falling in love with you
She gasped at that last line and looked up at him, wide-eyed with realization. Charles bent his head and brushed his lips over hers - the briefest touch, yet full of promise.
This man LOVES you, Elsie. This weekend. You tell him this weekend.
A wee review would be much appreciated - thanks! x