A/N: Here you go - I know you've all been VERY anxiously awaiting this chapter! I do apologize that this is the end of what I have written. I'm heading off to get a couple updates in for "Music of Our Lives," but will return to this one next week, perhaps in time for a nice Christmas-themed chapter set in Misty Cove.
T/W: Pregnancy loss (kudos, Ms. meetmeinstlouie, for the good guess).
T/W: Brief mention of automobile fatality
Song inspiration: "I'm Movin' On" - Rascal Flatts It's a song I used way back when in "Music of the Heart." To listen to it, you can visit Spotify's website, my username is ChelsieSouloftheAbbey, and the playlist is "After the Fall." This is one of my favorite songs I've ever used in any fic.
Love to you all, and best wishes for a Very Happy Christmas! xx
CSotA
At last I can see
Life has been patiently waiting for me
And I know there's no guarantee,
but I'm not alone ...
I've found you find strength
In your moments of weakness
For once I'm at peace with myself ...
I've been burdened with blame
Trapped in the past for too long
I'm movin' on ...
After the wedding ...
"Be good," Charles advised Daisy, kissing her on the forehead.
"I will," she whispered in his ear. She gave him one more hug, then headed over to surprise Elsie with one as well.
"You looked absolutely lovely today," Elsie told her. "Now be sure to have fun with Marigold, and I'll see you on Wednesday at the farm." She gave Daisy a little wink, then laughed lovingly when Daisy tried to return it, failing miserably.
"It just takes practice," she said lightly, and Daisy nodded.
"It was so nice to finally meet you, Ms. Hughes," Violet said, shaking Elsie's hand.
"Please, call me Elsie." She smiled, and was pleased to see it returned in kind.
"Then you'll have to call me Violet," she answered with a smirk. "I do hope I'll be seeing more of you in the future."
"I know that I certainly hope you will," Charles answered, reaching down to kiss Violet's cheek. "Now get back to the house and get some sleep. I know there's no way you slept on that plane, you've been run ragged since arriving, and you have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow helping Robert and Cora watch the little hellions." The look he received from Daisy had them all laughing again.
With another round of goodbyes given, Elsie felt Charles's hand at the small of her back, his breath warm on her neck as he whispered in her ear.
"Ready to go?"
She looked up at him and nodded, trying her best to stifle a yawn. It was late, after all, and she'd had a few glasses of Chardonnay. But any fatigue she felt disappeared as soon as the cold, outside air hit her full-force in the face. She pulled her wrap more tightly around her arms and hurried to the limo, grateful for its close proximity to the hotel. They practically jumped through the door of the car.
"What the hell?" Charles grumbled. "It's freezing!"
Elsie laughed at him. "Well, it is Maine, and you are on the ocean, and it is almost Christmas. Things get cold up here rather rapidly after the fall is ov- "
He bent down and silenced her with a quick kiss, one that was followed by another, and then a third, growing progressively more heated as they went on. Elsie finally put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back a bit.
"I just need to catch my breath," she gasped.
"Well, I'm certainly not cold anymore," he smirked, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. "And I had a lovely time tonight. Thank you for coming with me instead of just meeting me there. I wasn't sure you'd want to, to tell the truth. It's kind of a public statement."
"It was my pleasure," she purred, leaning over and resting her head on his shoulder. "It felt nice to be on the arm of the most handsome man in the place."
His laughter was loud as it bounced around the inside of the car. "She's got looks and a sense of humor," he teased.
"Believe what you want," she said, tucking herself more securely against him. "I know the truth."
They spent the rest of the ride chatting about the wedding itself, both of them ridiculously happy for Edith and thrilled with how much in love she and Bertie truly were.
"I hope they can maintain that," Charles mused. "Marriage isn't always an easy business."
"No, it's not," she replied quietly. "But they're hardly in the blush of youth. Edith has a good deal of life experience, as does Bertie. I think they're well-prepared to tackle what comes their way."
As the car turned down her drive, Elsie smiled approvingly at the soft light that shone from the lamppost set outside of the barn. She knew Anna had left it on in case Elsie wanted to look in on the horses - Anna always did that, but Elsie never checked. Anna knew her job well, and she adored the horses. Elsie was certain that they were nicely tucked into clean, warm stalls … and that Scarlett was likely fast asleep already.
Charles licked his lips and saw Elsie lost in thought, gazing out to the barn.
"Elsie?"
"Hmm?" she said, turning towards him. "Oh, don't mind me, just running through a few things in my mind."
He squeezed her hand, and it reminded her that she didn't want to let his go. The car came to a complete stop by the front door, and Stevens stepped out.
"You are coming in, I hope?" she asked Charles.
His eyebrows raised slowly as a smile played across his face. "Why, Elsie, that sounds a bit … risqué."
"Good," she replied, leaning in to kiss him. She allowed the tip of her tongue to run across his, then backed away as Stevens opened the door.
"Thank you, Stevens," she said as she took his hand and alighted from the car.
Charles followed her out of the car and reached into his billfold, then handed Stevens a generous tip. "It's been a pleasure."
"Likewise, Mr. Carson," he nodded, sparing a moment to glance at Elsie, who was already on the front step and unlocking her door. "I wouldn't let that one slip away," he added under his breath. "Lovely and kind … not many like that anymore, sir."
"Don't I know it," Charles replied, following the man's gaze. "And don't worry - I won't."
Stevens tipped his hat to Charles, then climbed back into the limo and drove away.
Charles headed to the door, where Elsie was waiting for him. He felt a bit awkward, truth be told, to be returning to her house and not his own. He was well aware that he, like Elsie last time, hadn't packed for an overnight trip.
"Would you like some tea?" Elsie's voice was coming at him from the kitchen, and he reached down to scratch Max's ears.
"That would be lovely, actually," he admitted. "Shall I light a fire?"
"Oh, would you? I am rubbish at getting that thing going," she said, pointing in the general direction of her wood stove. "Takes me forever."
She reached up to retrieve the tea from the cupboard and Charles took a moment to appreciate the look of her body as she stretched. He turned away quickly, however, not wanting to be caught out. Elsie had a way of making him feel like a schoolboy in need of a scolding … and he liked that feeling a little bit too much.
She prepared the tea tray as Charles removed his jacket. He got the living room fire going and then moved on to the smaller stove in the sunroom; that one was gas, and so he just flipped the switch to ignite it. Elsie brought the tea down there instead of to the parlour, and then looked out the windows and gasped.
Charles followed her eyes and smiled. It was snowing, finally. He'd been waiting like an impatient child for the snow to start, having heard how pretty it could be in this part of the world.
"Simply lovely," he said softly, and Elsie tilted her head as she contemplated his faraway gaze. He was staring outside like an innocent child, appreciating how the glass walls of the room made it feel as though they were standing directly in the gentle snowfall.
"Do you like the snow? I didn't have you down as a winter fan." She reached to hand him his tea, which he slipped slowly as he continued to peer through the glass walls to the pond that lay just past the door. It wasn't frozen yet, but he imagined it would be by Christmas.
"Oh, I think it's magical," he answered, his deep voice reverberating somewhere deep inside of Elsie's abdomen as he stared out the window. "Once, when Daisy was two, we were on holiday in the mountains. She'd never really experienced much snow, and I remember the complete joy on her face as we went outside and I showed her how to tip her head back, catching the flakes on her tongue."
"Aw, that's lovely," Elsie said. She moved to stand beside Charles, wrapping her arm around his waist as he reached his own arm out to pull her in closely. "I'm glad you've got so many happy memories of her childhood. Some families don't have that."
The sadness in her voice took him aback, and he contemplated her words. "No, some families don't," he agreed, not sure of where her thoughts were headed. "Did you not have that?"
"No," she whispered. "But I am glad you do."
Charles drained his cup and placed it and hers on the tray, then turned and placed his hands on Elsie's cheeks, gently stroking them with his thumbs. As he looked into her eyes he saw a strange combination of sadness mixed with longing. He drew her face toward his slowly for a soft, languid kiss that became slightly more heated as his fingers pressed into her swept-up hair, loosening it slightly as the seconds ticked by.
"Stay," she breathed. "You are staying, aren't you? Please?"
"Yes," he answered, "I'd like to, if you want me."
She smiled brightly at that, then bit down on her lip, that habit of hers that drove him mad with desire when he saw it.
"Oh, but I do," she said, kissing his chin. "I'm afraid that I want you very much, indeed."
Reaching down for his hand, Elsie turned and led him up to the bedroom.
Much later, the flickering candlelight was casting soft shadows onto the walls of the bedroom. Elsie lay with her head on Charles's chest, her arm reaching over his stomach, and he was running his fingertips slowly up and down her back, massaging it gently as he did so. He reached down and placed a soft kiss to her hair.
"Tell me about your childhood, Elsie," Charles said into the quiet of her bedroom. He suspected that she was hiding some great sadness, and he felt as though he could empathize with her, if only she would trust him with the truth.
He felt her body stiffen somewhat at his request, then relax as she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"It wasn't terribly happy."
"I'm sorry. Is that why you work with children?"
Elsie lifted her head and looked up at him, placing her hands on his chest and resting her chin on top of them so that she was looking at him. "Yes, actually - one of the reasons, anyway. You can be very perceptive yourself, you know."
"When there's something I'm interested in, yes, I can be," he answered honestly.
"And you are interested in me?" she teased.
He ran his hand down her side, cupping her bottom and squeezing it gently as she stretched her leg across his body and pulled herself further on top of him, sitting on his thighs. "Why, Ms. Hughes, didn't you know?"
She reached her hands down and smiled as he gasped at her touch. "Well, it does appear that way now, doesn't it?"
She didn't really answer your question, was his last coherent thought before all of his musings vanished, replaced only by his mind and body's reaction to her gentle, then passionate, touches.
Charles woke again hours later with a start as a crashing sound came from … somewhere.
He looked around the room and took a moment to remember where he was. He smiled as he saw Elsie's bedroom in the full, bright daylight. It suited her, he thought, with its soft, pale blue walls, dark wood furniture - the good kind, he couldn't help but notice, not the pressed-together things you found at so many stores these days. There was a slightly cluttered pile of books on the table by the vanity, next to which sat a quilt rack, two clearly-handmade quilts hanging down from it. The room was soft, strong, and comforting.
As he swung his legs out from underneath the covers, Charles remembered that he'd shown up to Elsie's house in a tuxedo. Shaking his head, he reached for the shirt only to find it not where he'd left it. He looked around the room and saw the tux draped over a hanger on the front of the bedroom door and, hanging over it, a man's bathrobe. The entire situation mirrored their last date so strangely that he had to chuckle. He donned the robe quickly, then went in search of the source of the crash.
"Good morning," he yawned, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Is everything alright out here?"
Elsie looked up from her morning paper and tea and smiled at him, biting on her lip again as she contemplated his fresh-out-of-bed appearance. It stirred that now-familiar feeling in her abdomen and made her heart race a bit. She took off her reading glasses and laid them on the paper, then got up to kiss him good morning. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him tightly, and she sighed with happiness.
"It was Max, and he's been properly scolded. He decided he was hungry even though he'd just eaten, and when he's hungry he's no better than a petulant child, taking his dish up in his mouth and dropping it on the floor. Metal on slate … not so quiet."
"Dog after my own heart," Charles replied, making his way to the table to sit. "Thank you for the robe. I am not sure I want to ask why you have it."
Elsie moved away from the table and didn't speak for a moment. She got him a teacup and a plate onto which she put two muffins, then sat back down at the table, directly across from him.
"It was Joe's," she said softly.
"The man in the picture on your mantle?" he asked, not wanting to follow it with the next logical question … but there was no need, because she anticipated it already.
"Yes. He was my husband," she said.
Charles's eyebrows shot up. "You were married?"
"Mm-hm. For fourteen years. He died … in an automobile accident, if you can believe it. Hit by a drunk driver - he died on the way to the hospital." She paused a moment before continuing. "That's partly why I didn't tell you about him earlier. I didn't want to make it harder for you, coming here, being reminded of your own life's sadness."
"Oh, Elsie, how awful for you. Were you happy with him?" He reached across the table for her hand, which she gave to him gratefully.
"In the beginning, yes." She took a deep breath. Now or never, Elsie.
"Alright," he replied softly, somewhat frustrated with both the fact that she wasn't speaking and his own insistence at pushing her.
"I was so young when Joe and I met, and so lonely," she whispered. "We'd sort of run away from home, my sister and I, with only each other for company."
Sister? he thought, but kept silent. One thing at a time.
"My father was quite abusive, and my Mam died when I was still a teenager. I got a job and finished school and, as soon as I could afford it, I left with my sister like a thief in the night. I fell into a new job in England, thank God, with the help of a wonderful woman I happened to meet the day I arrived.
"I met Joe a few months after we moved, and he swept me off my feet. I'd never gone out with any boys at home, of course, for a variety of reasons: my life would have been too hard to explain to them, my Da never would have approved of them anyhow, and I simply never wanted to bring anyone to my house - for reasons which I'm sure you can guess."
Charles nodded, the feeling ringing all too familiar with him.
"Joe adored Becky, and once we decided to marry he moved us out of our flat and into his, which was larger. He was such a good, kind man, and Becky was the light of our lives." Elsie looked at Charles then, knowing he had to understand about Becky … and that she needed to see in his eyes what his reaction would be.
"Becky is … special. She suffers from a number of developmental disabilities. She looks like an adult, but when you speak to her you realize she's not mentally an adult. The more you talk to her, the more she seems to be about Daisy's age rather than a woman who's just entered her forties. But she also suffers from something called Intermittent Explosive Disorder,* and is prone to fits of rage."
"I see," he said, nodding, and Elsie saw an overwhelming kindness in his eyes. "And you were afraid that … what? I'd shun you for this? That I'd not be as accepting of Becky as you'd like me to be? Elsie, darling," he said softly, caressing her hand, "I could never do that. She's your family, she's a part of you, and I am sure I will adore her."
His conviction, not to mention interest in meeting Becky, was the inspiration she needed to continue, and she squeezed his hand in thanks and nodded. She was grateful to have the corner of the table between them; it afforded him the ability to hold her hand and comfort her, but it provided enough distance that she was able to keep her wits about her.
"Well, as I was saying, when Joe and I discussed marriage, he insisted right away that Becky would continue live with us instead of putting her into some institution as her doctor had recommended. It worked fine in the beginning and, after the wedding, she seemed to be doing even better. Becky was in a quiet, safe home at last, and she was thriving. Joe was the farm manager for an enormous property two towns over, and while he spent long days there he was home for dinner every night and on most weekends, because he insisted on having someone else to manage things for him there so that he could be around for our 'family time.' Becky was at her best when she lived with us, truly … in the early years, anyhow.
"Joe and I wanted so badly to have a child of our own. We tried for ages, and it seemed evident after a while that things weren't going to work out for us in that regard. Joe kept insisting it was fine, kept telling me our little family of three was enough. And, in some ways, having Becky really was like having a child. Not my own, of course, but I was more of a mother to her than our Mam had been."
Charles let that one slide, knowing he couldn't press for too much, but he filed that statement away to come back to later. It only made her more endearing to him, this perseverance she'd clearly had all her life having made her into the woman who now sat before him at her table.
"It was a strain on our marriage, though, and I could see it before Joe could. I wanted a child so badly, Charles, and not just for Joe. I'd always wanted to be a mother, and the fact that it was being denied to me broke my heart. I was angry, furious with the world, and it turned me bitter for a time."
"Clearly that has changed," he said, smiling. "For that is not the Elsie that I know."
She smiled back. "Thank you for that," she said softly. "And you are right, I did change. But it got so much worse before it got better. You see, after about ten years, I found myself suddenly pregnant."
His face fell a bit then, and she saw the sorrow and knowledge in his eyes … and despite how sad it made her to see his sorrow, she knew at that moment that she'd be alright; she finally understood without a doubt that this kind, wonderful man before her would be just what she needed to finally make peace with her past.
"Much like my own situation," he murmured, "and yet so very different, obviously."
"Yes." She sighed. "Because clearly I don't have a child."
"No," he said sadly, knowing now where she was headed. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, but refused to let it go.
"I told Joe about the pregnancy as soon as I'd found out, and he could not have been happier. But his happiness came at Becky's expense; you see, once he found out we'd be having a child of our own, all of his attention went into that and was no longer directed at her. She felt shunned and unwanted, and as I was always so defensive of her it put a strain on our marriage when I pointed it out to Joe. The change in atmosphere at our house caused her outbursts to start up again. Joe became overprotective of me, and he wouldn't let me near Becky when she was having one of her fits. I know she'd never have hurt me, but he didn't trust her.
"And then," she added, "four months later, we lost the baby. I had a spill at work - tripped and fell on the staircase. It was nothing that should have caused such a result, but my body had other ideas. The doctor told me sometimes that's just how it happens. I knew that, of course, being a nurse, but somehow it's different when it's you and not a patient you don't know personally. I was devastated, but Joe was absolutely beside himself with grief. I suspect that he held me partially responsible - he even said he was surprised I'd not been more careful - but he denied ever thinking that way. Still, I couldn't bring myself to believe him, not entirely.
"Becky didn't know how to handle all of the sadness and she had a breakdown, and I had to hospitalize her. Joe couldn't see how I could be spending all my energy on Becky and not on helping him to cope with the loss of the baby, and I just lost it. We had a huge row that night, the first of many. It was the beginning of the end, I think, of our marriage. I tried to hold onto the hope that we'd get over it, but I always suspected in the back of my mind that we wouldn't - that Joe wouldn't."
"And I presume you didn't conceive again?" he asked sadly. Elsie just shook her head and took a deep, steadying breath.
"No," she finally answered, "and the pressure of it all became too great. Joe was insistent on having a biological child at that point, because he figured if I'd been able to get pregnant once then it could certainly happen again. I couldn't understand the complete change in his feeling about it, and I was still coping with the loss of the baby - I'd not really been able to mourn that because I was so focused on making sure Becky would be well. Joe wanted me to go in for testing, perhaps use in-vitro … I was pressuring him to adopt, or to just let it be. We had another huge argument about it – New Year's Eve, it was – and he stormed out …"
Charles gasped loudly and reached for her hand again, taking it in both of his and giving it a steadying squeeze. "Oh, my God, Elsie."
She was crying softly by this point but finished the story nonetheless, knowing once she got it out it would be for the best. "Yes. The police showed up at the house, and I knew immediately what had happened."
She saw him nod slowly in understanding, and her heart almost broke in two.
"I went to identify the car, that was the worst bit, but there was no doubt it was Joe's. I had to tell Becky, and it broke her completely, poor soul. We moved here to get away from it all, because no matter where we were over there, it just reminded us of him. It's all farmland where we were, you see, and …" She trailed off, feeling so very drained. "Well, anyhow, my L'il Farm is different."
And the last bit clicked into place in Charles's head. "Wait … that means Becky lives somewhere near here. And you must visit her regularly? That's where you went on the weekends you were away?"
Elsie nodded. "Yes. I wanted to tell you, I truly did, but there was no way to tell you about Becky and not explain about Joe."
"But what were you afraid of?" he asked, clearly not grasping the root of her fear. "Why were you afraid to tell me all of it? I don't understand."
"Oh, you dear, dear man," she whispered, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand. "Of course, you wouldn't even suspect it, would you?"
He just shook his head slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Here you come, this wonderful, lovely man, with an equally wonderful, lovely daughter. It was everything I wanted and could never have."
"You were afraid I'd think you loved me because of Daisy?" he asked incredulously, not noticing his choice of words amidst his confusion. "Elsie, you could never do that."
"But you didn't know that when you met me, Charles! How could you possibly? I didn't want to risk telling you and having that always be in the back of your mind whenever you looked at me." She got up from the table and brought their things to the sink, overpowered by the need to suddenly do something.
She heard him get up and follow her, but she started washing out the cups anyway. Charles came up behind her and placed his hands on her waist, encouraging her to lean back on him. He rested his chin lightly on her head and wrapped his arms around her body; when she felt his chest shudder she turned back to look at him.
"Oh, Charles," she said, turning and reaching up to wipe his tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to …"
"Shh," he answered, then leaned down to kiss her. He pulled away after a moment, and looked deep into her eyes.
"I love you, Elsie," he said clearly. "I love you. I was so afraid to tell you that before, and I'm not sure how to convince you that it has nothing to do with how you've helped Daisy, but everything to do with how you've helped me. I was afraid, too - afraid that you'd think my feelings stemmed from what you had done and not because of who you are. I never knew anyone could fall in love this quickly, or this deeply, and I see now that there's an entire aspect to my life that I've been missing out on.
"I thought I'd found happiness once before, and I thought I could never find that again. But I was so wrong, you see. The happiness I found before was incomplete. Don't get me wrong - I adore Daisy. She is, without a doubt, one of the best things that's ever happened to me." He took a deep breath. "And you, I am now certain, are the other."
Elsie shook her head and turned her head away from him, but he touched his forefinger to her chin and gently encouraged her to look at him once again.
"I mean it, Elsie. I'm heartbroken to hear your story, but am so glad you've told me. I don't want any secrets between us. I want you to tell me everything … always. I want there to be an always with you. At the very least, I want you to consider that there could be."
She couldn't hold her emotions in check anymore, and just broke down in his arms. He held her until she regained some semblance of control.
"I promise I will," she said. "I've been trying to tell myself I couldn't be in love with you, that I was fooling myself, but clearly that is not the case."
"What made you change your mind?" he asked. "Because I feel that it was made up before this morning."
She laughed. "It was last night, when I was talking to Violet, before you came over to the table," she admitted.
"Violet?" he asked incredulously. "Truly?" Charles appreciated the caring that Violet had shown him over his lifetime, the way she'd stepped in and become the loving mother he never really had. But he had no blinders on when it came to how the rest of the world saw her: cold, opinionated, and nosing around in places she'd have done better not to have ventured.
"Yes. And Edith and Phyllis told me weeks ago to tell you everything," she admitted, "but I was too afraid to until last night. I got quite a speech from Violet, I can tell you." She chuckled as she wiped away the last of her tears. "She said she just looked at me, at how I acted when you were near, and she just knew. She waited until we were alone, then she told me rather firmly how wonderful you are … and about how you deserve a woman who sees that at last."
"I'm glad," he whispered. "She's always been my biggest champion."
She leaned back and looked him directly in his large, lovely eyes, in which she saw tiny flecks of brown, gray, green … and huge amounts of love.
"Charles?" she asked, and he tightened his arms around her.
"Yes?"
She took a deep breath, and realized she was at peace at last.
"I love you, too."
*For more on Intermittent Explosive Disorder, please visit The Mayo Clinic's website. It is a very real illness, I can assure you. Also, I proofed this on the fly, so please pardon any typos.