G'day all! Although it is eleven p.m. for me currently…

Time for the third chapter! And once again, thank you so so so much for your amazing reviews on the second chapter. They make my day! And since this story is currently more fun than anything else, I keep spending every day writing a new chapter for you…I've outdone myself- an update on three days straight! What a score!

But now, I shall let you continue with your reading session…And I hope you end it with a little review, to let me know how I did! Stay safe and I hope to be back soon with yet another chapter. Enjoy! :)

Charles Carson lifted his hand to place the clean plate into the cabinet above the sink. He brushed a small droplet of sweat from his brow, tugged at his shirt sleeve that refused to stay up.

They had just finished dinner- ham sandwiches made by Mrs. Patmore at his kind request to take some weight off his wife's shoulders. And the cook, of course, had been more than happy to be of help.

And to Charles' great relief, his wife had also enjoyed the meal. He even thought she looked much better today than she had in quite a few days. But despite that, he still worried, but didn't want to push her to telling him tonight. He'd try tomorrow.

He smiled at himself as he dried the last plate and hummed his approval of a job well done as he placed it in the cabinet. He moved to dry his hands on a towel hanging in a small hook by the window.

Elsie had gone upstairs to get ready for bed whilst he promised to wash the dishes before joining her. It had been almost a quarter of an hour since that little debate; she had been reluctant to let him do it at the beginning. But Charles congratulated himself on winning that battle.

He closed the cabinet, walking to the light switch and turning off the lights in the room. He made sure the front door was locked properly before heading for the stairs.

The cottage was now completely dark, what with the late summer nights- luckily, he knew his way around to have no need to turn on the lights. The only light were the dying flames in the bedroom fireplace that shone from under the door.

Pulling the bedroom door open carefully, not wanting to wake his wife in case she was already sleeping, Charles stepped into the room. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall before her.

"I thought you'd be asleep already."

She jumped at his voice and turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry.", he apologized.

"It's alright. I was waiting for you.", she cracked a smile as he walked to the wardrobe to get his pyjamas.

"I'll just pop in the bathroom and get ready for bed."

She stared after him when he disappeared into the bathroom.

When he returned, now dressed in his pyjamas, and freshened up for the night, he noted his wife had laid down and was pulling the sheets up to her neck. It was quite chilly, even with the embers in the fireplace.

"I'll put some more wood in the fire.", he mumbled, mostly to himself, and slowly made his way to the fireplace at the other end of the room.

"Thank you."

She turned her head slightly, watching him add a few logs in the flames, his back turned at her.

A thought struck her.

"I asked her ladyship about your day off."

He was smiling when he spoke, she could hear it in his voice;

"And what did she say?"

"That you are to have your half day whenever it best suits our plans.", she said, adjusting her pillow.

"I'm glad. Shall I take you for dinner in York, then?"

She was glad he couldn't see her face; else he'd seen the pain written beneath her smile.

"That would be lovely."

"Then it's settled."

He stood up from the floor, made his way to his side of the bed and sat down. She had turned to lay on her side when he spoke up again.

"We might even go somewhere nice. I could ask his lordship for a recommendation, maybe. There is this one, very nice, restaurant in downtown York, I've been there once. Of course, it's rather expensive, but I think we've both earned a bit of a treat."

When she didn't say anything for a while, he noticed his error.

"I'm sorry, you must be tired."

He cursed himself for his thoughtlessness as he leaned across the bed to plant a sweet kiss to the side of her head.

"It's late and I'm keeping you up…We can discuss it some other time- we've got time later."

A sweet I love you slipped from his lips as he pulled back and concentrated on setting his alarm for tomorrow.

Charles kicked off his slippers and put them neatly next to the bed. He was about to turn off the lamp that rested on the table beside the bed when he heard a muffled sound coming from the other side of the mattress. He turned to look at his wife's back.

"Elsie? Did you say something?"

He didn't hear an answer and leaned towards the lamp again when, in the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulder starting to shake. A strangled sob escaped her mouth. She was crying.

"Oh Elsie…"

He jumped up from the bed, rushing around it to get to his wife. He knelt on the floor, extended his hand to turn on her bedside lamp in order to see her face properly.

"Oh, my darling, whatever is the matter?", he pulled her hand from her mouth.

She was shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry, Charlie."

He had no clue what she was going on about.

"I'm so sorry…", she sobbed.

"My dearest darling, whatever are you talking about? You've nothing to be sorry for.", he brought his hand to cup her cheek wet with tears."What's all this?"

She couldn't form a sentence, not one that would make any sense anyway. Suddenly even breathing seemed to be a challenge. She needed to…She didn't know exactly, only that she couldn't stay where she was. Seeing her struggle, he helped her sit up.

Sitting up didn't help.

"Shh, my love. Take deep breaths. Deep breaths…", he told her gently, caressing her face."You're alright."

"Yo-you…I'm…not.", she was speaking in riddles- she knew, but she had to say something.

"What do you mean?"

And before she could answer him, she was desperately searching for his hand.

"I'm here. Tell me.", he took a steady hold of her shaking hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm…-"

Her free hand came up to, rather forcefully, wipe at the tears on her face.

"You're what, love?", he prompted, careful not to push her too hard, and brought her hand down from her face, feeling like she was doing more damage than good.

She took a deep, wavering breath as she tried her best to calm down. This would never do.

"Take your time. We're in no hurry."

She couldn't look at his face, couldn't see the hurt written all over it. So, she closed her eyes for what she had to say.

"I- I found a…-

Feeling him squeeze her hand she continued.

"I found a lump. On my breast."

There. She had said it.

It was then when she opened her eyes again. A wave of relief washed through her: getting it off her chest felt good. The feeling, however, didn't stay for long.

"What?"

She found herself shaking her head:

"It's back, Charlie."

For a moment he was sure he hadn't heard her right. They found each other's eyes and his heart broke at the pain he saw in hers. There was no doubt whether he had heard her right…

"Elsie, oh my darling…", as his own tears threatened to fall, he hid his face in the crook of her neck, pulling her into a tight embrace."My dearest darling…"

She sniffed, snuggling closer.

"I don't want to go through it again…I can't.", she wept, the shoulder of his pyjama shirt damp from her tears.

"Shh, you're going to be just fine.", he was squeezing her so tightly she might have complained if it wasn't for the situation. Now, neither seemed to mind.

"You don't know that."

He pulled away at her words, taking her tear-stained face between his palms, and once again their eyes met. He stared into hers and spoke firmly:

"I promise you, Mrs. Charles Carson…As I live and breathe, you're going to be just fine."

A new wave of tears fell from her eyes.

Neither knew for sure who he was trying to reassure. The wife or the husband.

…

The next morning, Elsie found him in the kitchen.

She had been surprised to wake up to an empty bed, since it was usually her who woke up first in the mornings. But on the other hand, this had been the first time she had slept well since discovering the lump. That was something she could be grateful for. She'd put on her robe and gone downstairs in search of her husband.

That was how she had ended up standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at his back as he prepared two pieces of toast for their breakfast.

She was just about to say something to get his attention when he turned around and their gazes met.

"Oh hello, love.", she heard him say and he leaned to place two plates on the table.

"Good morning."

She stepped properly in the room, her hands around her middle. It was surprisingly chilly that morning.

"I made some breakfast."

Her face softened:

"Thank you, Charlie. It's very kind of you."

She watched the corner of his mouth twitch upwards in a faint smile. Letting her legs take her to the table, she took a seat- he did the same on the opposite side of the table.

"Have you been awake for long?", she found herself asking gently.

Somehow small-talk felt odd that morning.

"Not for too long. I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."

Elsie nodded, lowering her gaze to the meal laid before her. A piece of toast, some apple slices and cup of coffee- her favourite.

He must have noticed her making her study when he said:

"I hope the toast is good. I wasn't entirely sure how to work the toaster yet. Sorry."

"I'm sure it's delicious.", she looked up at him."It's only that I'm not that hungry."

His face fell.

"I keep overthinking and I lose my appetite. It's not your fault, the toast looks delicious."

A part of her wondered if it was simply that, but she pushed the thought to the back of her head.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Of course, he would ask that. And she loved him for it.

"No. But I thank you for asking."

Charles simply nodded. It had clearly made him sad to hear what she had told him.

"But I will try. To eat, for you.", he smiled at her then, a proud smile, she noted.

And so, they began to eat their breakfast.

Charles was intently watching her while doing so, searching for any sings of sickness as she forced herself to finish half of her toast and a few of the apple slices he'd cut for her. Even with a certain worry, he was proud of her for eating even the little she did. The next time either spoke was when he lowered his, now empty, coffee cup down on the table for the last time.

"We ought to get changed, unless we wish to be late.", she had said with a weak smile gracing her lips, wiping at her mouth with a white napkin.

"Of course."

"Why don't you go up while I take care of the dishes?"

"No, no. I can do that.", he argued immediately, holding up his hand as if dismissing her arguments.

"But you made us breakfast, it's only fair if I do the cleaning.", his wife stood up as she said this and started to pile the dishes.

"Nonsense. You deserve a bit of pampering."

She eyed him at that, stopping at her task. Oh, so that's what he was about.

"You know, I'm perfectly capable-"

He rushed to correct her mistake:

"Of course, you are! I didn't mean it like that. I only meant, as I know you've not slept very well lately, that if there was something I could do to lessen your workload, I very much would like to do it. I know my wife is more than capable on many fronts."

"Oh.", she had not thought about that and now she felt quite bad for getting angry at him.

Charles could see it on her face that she was second guessing herself, but he hadn't wanted that. He pushed his chair backwards slightly, extending his hand towards her.

"Come here, love."

His voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she stepped to take his offered hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he, to her surprise, pulled her to sit on his lap. She nestled her head under his chin.

"I'm sorry.", she whispered.

"It's alright, you couldn't have known."

"I should have.", she argued."I'm being rude towards you when you're only trying to be kind."

"I don't mind, love. You've not been yourself lately, it's acceptable.", Charles told her, inhaling in the smell of her hair.

She remained quiet, unsure what to say to that.

"Have you…"

She hummed out encouragingly as he fell quiet.

"Have you given any thought to a visit with Dr. Clarkson?"

She leaned back, bringing her face up to look at him.

"Well…yes, of course...The last time Mrs. Patmore had to drag me to see the doctor."

His hand drew soothing circles on her back.

"But…You'll let me come with you now?", it seemed like a stupid question but one he felt he had to ask.

There was a frown on her face:

"Of course, you old booby."

She leaned back against his chest before continuing.

"I just…I feel so scared to go there again. I know it all ended well enough the first time but…", she gulped and shut her eyes."Even the thought of it makes me feel sick to my stomach."

"I know, love. And I'm so sorry.", he kissed her hair."But I have faith in us, I know it'll be alright in the end."

"I do hope you're right, Charlie."

"I'll make an appointment for our half day."

"But you were so excited for our plans.", and if truth be told, so was she.

"We can go some other time. This is more important; your health is more important."

They remained quiet for a while until Charles came to the realization that they really had to start making their departure, or else they'd be seriously late. Mrs. Patmore would have a fit, if that were to happen, and that wouldn't work.

"Elsie, love. Why don't we leave the dishes for when we come home from the Abbey? Let's just change and head out.", he planted another kiss to her hair, this time lingering for a while longer.

"Do we have to?", came her quiet moan.

He felt how tired she was and could hear it in her voice.

"I'm afraid we've a lot of work to do. But I'm sure her ladyship won't mind if you wish to stay here and rest for a few hours."

He felt her shake her head.

"No, you're right. We have a lot to do.", she reluctantly pulled away and stood up, stretching her legs.

"But I do hope you'll take it easy before we have the chance to see Dr. Clarkson."

She looked at him sceptically.

"Take it easy? With a house full of people that need to be looked after and a ton of work to do, I don't think so."

He sighed:

"Please, just try to put your feet up when you can. Else I worry."

Elsie knew he would worry, whether she put her feet up or not. But she didn't want to argue, not today.

"Alright, I'll try."

"Thank you.", he smiled, lifting her hand to his lips.

"But now we really have to get on."

"I believe we do, Mrs. Carson.", he earned a smile for the endearment.

That smile however seemed to fade too quickly, and a hand rose to cover her mouth.

"Elsie? What's wrong?"

All of a sudden, her stomach twitched, and she could feel herself fighting a wave of nausea rising in her throat.

"Elsie?", he held his hand on her elbow, a worried look on his face.

"I think I'm going to be sick-"

And she flew from his reach, just in time before the bile rose a tad too high and she threw up in the kitchen sink.

There went her breakfast, Charles grimaced as he moved to help her. It was just the stress, her nerves, he kept telling himself. And he prayed he was right about that…