*Awkwardly comes out of hiding* Hiya there…Still remember me?

It's been weeks! A few long weeks! It's an excuse I've used a great many times in the past, but I've been busy. And during that time, I've had time to be ill and do bunches of schoolwork, but not to recover from writer's block to get something written! And I shall be begging for your forgiveness, for I feel awful for not getting any writing done! After getting asked about future updates for this story, I forced myself to do something about this situation that I find myself in and write. And to be honest, it was just what I needed! Even though at times I felt like I was forcing myself to do something I was not comfortable with…However, now that's all behind me and I am here with a new chapter! Yahoo!

I hope you all have a wonderful time reading and I would very much like it if you'd take a minute to leave me a review after you've finished! As I've said - they make my day!

But now I shall shut up and let you get to the actual story! I hope you have an amazing rest of the day. Stay safe and Chelsie on! ;-)

Her fingers were making quick work of braiding her still damp hair as she hummed, not herself noticing that – concentrated on making her way down the length of her curls. It didn't take her long till she reached the end of their length, and she tied the braid in place with a creamy-coloured ribbon.

It had been a gift from her husband soon after their honeymoon and Elsie smiled at the memory of her husband shyly presenting her with a small package one evening and how she had ended up teaching him how to braid her hair…

Elsie looked at the paper bag on her palm, then lifted her gaze to his face.

"What's this?"

He nervously shifted his weight from his right foot to the other.

"A gift. For you."

"A gift?", she asked, a genuinely surprised look worn on her face.

Elsie stood up from her dressing table and pulled on her bathrobe from the bed.

"Yes. Would you open it?"

"You shouldn't have gotten me anything. There's no need for you to waste your money on me, Charlie.", she said as she carefully tore open the bag.

"I shall forget you said anything."

She smiled at him then and slid her hand inside the open bag.

"Well?", Charles wondered, studying his wife's curious face.

She withdrew her hand from the bag, a cream-like coloured silk ribbon now resting between her fingers.

"It's for your hair. Well for when you braid it.", he said, noticing the confused look on her face."I thought you could use a new one, I've noticed how old your other ones are."

Elsie removed her gaze from the silk tie in her hand and flashed him a teary smile.

"That's very sweet of you, Charlie, thank you. And it is very beautiful."

"I'm glad you think so."

Glancing at the clock on the mantle – quarter to eleven – she left the bedroom to head downstairs for a glass of sherry with her husband. Her darling husband, she smiled at herself…

"You have great taste in ladies' hair ties, darling."

He grinned at her praise, taking a step towards her to place a gentle kiss on her temple.

"Would you like to teach me?"

"Teach you what?", she couldn't quite catch his meaning.

"How to braid your hair.", he told her quietly, his hands on her waist and drawing circles on the layers covering her skin."I do so love your hair, love."

The last bit of his revelation wasn't much of a surprise, Elsie thought, tilting her head to the side.

"Would you like to learn how to?"

"I would, very much indeed.", Charles smiled."You wouldn't mind, would you?"

"No, of course not.", she beamed."I can teach you right now if you'd like me to?"

The childish grin on his face was all the answer she needed.

Elsie descended the stairs with a quiet creak from the planks of that one step in the middle that she had been meaning to tell Charles about so he could fix it – but she always seemed to forget it. It annoyed her every time the creak rang from under her foot.

The downstairs corridor was dark but the warm light shining from the sitting room's doorway lured her forward. The kitchen is just as dark, she noted, he must be in the sitting room already. Elsie stepped into the room, finding her husband seated in his armchair, with indeed two glasses of sherry sitting on the table near his feet.

"I'm sorry I took so long.", she came to a halt next to a basket in the corner, leaning to grab a woollen blanket and bringing it to the couch with her."It's awfully chilly for late summer, isn't it?"

She had expected a reply from him, but when none came Elsie looked at him properly. It was clear that he hadn't registered her presence. Her legs took her beside his chair, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

"Charlie? Is something the matter?"

Now he did look up at her, somewhat confused at seeing her there.

She flashed him a smile and he cleared his throat.

"Sorry. I didn't see you come in just now."

"Don't apologize, love.", she let her finger brush against his cheek, feeling the slight stubble of his beard against her fingertip."Penny for your thoughts, hm?"

"I've always rather thought they're not worth it.", he shrugged, leaning his face to plant a kiss on her forefinger that still rested on his cheek.

"I suppose so.", a gentle smile rose to her lips at his affections."What were you thinking so hard about?"

He remained quiet for a moment.

"Just us."

"Just us? That's one way of putting me in my place, Mr. Carson."

"I'm proof of your teasing, Mrs. Carson.", a raised eyebrow accompanied his words.

She withdrew her hand from his cheek.

"Very well. What about us caught your attention then that required such close inspection?", she held her hands before her, her fingers entwined.

"Only that I'm so very lucky to be your husband, to have you as my wife."

She gave him a doubtful look, but his eyes shone with his love – she relented to believing he was telling the truth.

"Well, keep thinking that then, Mr. Carson, I've no objections.", she smiled and stepped towards the couch again.

She sat down and pulled the woollen blanket over her legs. And just as she had hoped, he soon joined her – slipping under the blanket too as his arm came to pull her closer to him by stretching it around her shoulders. She leaned against his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I wanted to apologize to you for how I behaved earlier today.", he spoke, breaking the somewhat uncomfortable silence between them.

"Oh, Charlie – you've nothing to apologize for. You were only trying to help me, for which I truly am grateful. And besides, you were right. The linen inventory was not as urgent a task as I made it to be."

"That's true.", he flashed a smile."So, am I forgiven?"

"I already said you never needed to apologize, but yes. You may consider yourself forgiven, my darling."

"Good. I never want to be at odds with you, Elsie. Not now, not ever.", he took a hold of her hand that rested on her lap and gave it a firm squeeze.

"Nor do I. But we're human. And married.", she told him."We're bound to disagree every once in a while. More so than either of us could hope for."

"I know. But I don't like it."

Her face softened slightly.

"I know you don't. And neither do I."

She turned her head to look up at his face and he leaned down to kiss her lips, his tongue caressing her lower lip – as if trying to soothe the spot her teeth bore into whenever she felt uncertain. These days that seemed to happen too often, he thought sadly as they pulled apart to take a deep intake of air each.

"Speaking of…would it help us stay in agreement if I were to take the morning off tomorrow, sleep in for a bit?", she asked him quietly, her breathing tickling the skin of his chin.

"I should think so, Mrs. Carson.", he couldn't help but smile, though it faded after a second."You're not feeling ill, are you? Should we go see Dr. Clarkson?"

Shaking her head, she said:

"Oh, no."

"Oh, thank goodness.", he sighed, relieved.

"I do love how you care for me, Charlie."

"Of course, I do care! You're my wife after all."

"Hmm, and anything else would be very un-husbandly of you, I should think.", she was teasing him, he knew the certain lilt in her voice when she did.

"Indeed, it would. And we can't have that."

"No, indeed, we cannot. And I shall love you very much for it, for as long as there is any breath left in my body."

He couldn't resist the urge to kiss her again, and so he did. Just a husband kissing his wife, he breathed against her lips, and she melted against his chest, her hands holding him close by his lapels. His were pulling her to him by her waist, her lower back – anything he could reach from his position. And he kissed her again, savouring the feeling of her lips against his and her smell in his nostrils. Had he been standing, his knees would've buckled under him at the sensation, the shivers it sent down his spine. He was thoroughly glad he was safely seated. They were both enjoying the kissing, the caressing, and nibbling, but had to reluctantly pull apart to catch air.

Her hands slid from his lapels to entwine behind his neck, and she planted kisses on his nose and the dimple of his chin, not quite wanting to part with him yet. She never did if she was honest with herself.

"You make me mad, Elsie Hughes.", he murmured, his baritone voice burning through her skin.

"Mhm. And I'm so glad.", she told him with a grin."Who would have thought, Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes kissing by the fire late at night?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Carson, love.", he corrected as he broke into a bright smile himself.

"Mr. and Mrs. Carson.", she repeated.

The very thought still sent shivers down her spine and butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"Hmm, you make me feel so happy, Elsie. Every minute you're with me…So very happy."

It feels good to feel happy, he thought, it always did with her.

"You are happy aren't you, Charlie?"

His smile faded slightly. It took him a moment to find his voice.

"What? How can you ask me that, love? When all I want to do is yell my love for you from the rooftops."

Her teeth bore into her lower lip, and she hated how it stung.

"Elsie, why do you ask?"

"Well, if I'm ill…"

"No, don't say that, Elsie-"

"Oh, but Charlie, I must.", she insisted – her voice suddenly stuck in her throat.

"No, you don't. You don't need to say anything, love. There is nothing to say."

He pulled her hands down from his neck and brought them tightly against his chest.

"Right now, there is nothing for you to say."

And she crumbled against his chest, his arms instantly covering her shaking form.

"I'm sorry, Charlie.", she blubbered.

"Never apologize for crying to me, love."

Charles held her for a while until she had stopped crying. She pulled back from his embrace, tears still staining her cheeks.

"All I seem to do these days is weep. And make a fool of myself in front of you.", it was bittersweet, she knew that.

"Never.", he whispered, offering her a handkerchief.

"Thank you."

She wiped at the tears on her cheeks.

"Are you alright? Did I say something?"

"I'm fine. Only a bit tired.", she forced a smile as she placed the handkerchief back onto his waiting palm."But you know that already, don't you?"

His answer was an apologetic smile.

"I suppose I just…I told Mrs. Patmore today. I guess it brought it all back. Well, as if I've even stopped thinking about it…"

"Try not to. You heard what Dr. Clarkson said – we shouldn't worry until we know more."

"But do you not think about it all the time, Charlie?", her voice far too timid for her to sound anything but angry.

He looked a bit aghast, and she felt bad for letting her emotions get the better of her.

"I know…I know. And I am trying. I really am, Charlie.", she stammered.

"I know.", he kissed her knuckles, trying to distract her."But let's not worry about anything tonight, alright? It's quite late but…do you still want that sherry?"

She let out a teary chuckle at his words.

"I've not ruined the mood too badly, have I?"

"You never could, my darling.", he let go of her hands and leaned to grab both of their glasses."Let's make a toast."

Elsie took her glass from him gratefully.

"What shall we toast to then?", she asked, watching him get settled next to her again.

"Hmm…To love?", he suggested, looking at her for signs of approval.

"Perfect. To love."

…

When Elsie arrived at the abbey right before the downstairs luncheon the next day, she found her husband in his pantry going over his wine ledger. She stepped properly into the room and pulled the door closed behind her.

"Hello, stranger.", he smiled brightly upon seeing her and stood up to place a loving kiss on her cheek.

"Hello."

"You are a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Carson.", he sighed and earned a chuckle from his wife.

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Mrs. Patmore's been nagging me every five minutes…and a wine delivery was supposed to come in this morning, but it never did. I must figure out where I am to get wines for the party tomorrow from scratch."

"Oh, you'll manage. You always do.", she patted his arm."How have you survived otherwise today?"

"Splendidly."

"You talk as if you've not missed me."

"Oh, trust me, I have.", with raised eyebrows, he led her to his desk."Her ladyship came down this morning looking for you."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help her.", she sighed."And how did you explain my absence?"

"I told her you had a bit of a sore head, nothing more.", he said pointedly yet kindly."Nothing sleep and a powder wouldn't cure."

She nodded appreciatively.

"And what was it she needed my help with?"

"Only to inform you that Mr. Napier will also be staying with the family for the weekend at Lady Mary's invitation and she wanted to know whether we've any rooms left."

"I see Lady Mary is being very helpful.", she replied, looking only a tiny bit annoyed.

"And do we? Have any rooms left that is.", he rightfully chose to ignore her comment.

"We certainly do, I'll get Lily to sort it out and inform her ladyship."

"I'm afraid it'll be extra work for you, love.", he tried to study her face for any signs of fatigue but struggled to find any, whilst handing her a document from a pile on his desk.

"Don't you worry about me. I've had plenty of rest to tackle this coming weekend, Mr. Carson."

He had to smile at that. She did seem more cheerful than she had yesterday – perhaps a bit of rest had been what she'd needed.

"You said Mrs. Patmore's been bothering you today. What's that about?", she asked, remembering her husband's earlier words.

"Oh, nothing. I think she's just worried about you."

"How do you make that up?", Elsie looked confused at this revelation.

Of course, the cook would be upset, Charles thought, after all, she and his wife were very good friends these days.

"Only, she was quite taken back when she saw me come in alone this morning.", he explained."She's been questioning me about you since then."

"At least now she should know why I might feel inclined to take the morning off."

He had no time to reply when the door was swung open and the said cook was revealed standing in the doorway, drying her hands on her apron.

"I thought I heard your voice.", she said, her hands coming to rest on her sides.

"Hello, Mrs. Patmore.", Elsie smiled at the other woman, motioning for her to come in."I hope I wasn't needed too badly whilst I was gone?"

"Oh, no. We managed alright.", Beryl told her."And how are you?"

A question that was bound to get asked at some point during this conversation, Elsie sighed.

"I'm feeling alright, Mrs. Patmore. I just thought a lie down would do me good, and it did."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Now, you must tell me if there's anything you want me to do."

"There isn't. As I said, I'm feeling quite well, Mrs. Patmore."

"Good, good…"

Charles' eyes were darting from his wife to the cook as he listened closely to their exchange of words. When he met his wife's gaze, she spoke up again:

"Well, I should get on. There's yet a lot to be done and I'm afraid my lie-in has got me running behind. If you'll excuse me."

As she made it to move past the cook standing in the doorway, she let her hand brush against her husband's – a sign to let him know she was alright. And with a last smile towards her friend, Elsie left the room. However, she hadn't made it more than a few steps into the corridor and towards her sitting room when this said friend marched after her, the heels of her shoes tapping against the stone floor.

"Mrs. Patmore?", she asked, coming to a halt, and looking expectantly at the woman in question.

Beryl cast a look around the corridor – likely making sure they wouldn't be overheard, Elsie concluded. Though everyone were busy with their duties, the house has ears, and checking their surrounding never hurt…The cook's voice was nothing more than a silent whisper when she spoke up after a moment.

"Are you really feeling well?"

Elsie frowned slightly.

"I am quite well, Mrs. Patmore. And it won't work magics if you keep asking me that."

"Right…I'm sorry.", Beryl sighed.

"No, don't be.", she shook her head, placing a gentle hand on her friend's arm.

"You've…Uhm, you've gone to see Dr. Clarkson?"

"We have.", Elsie murmured, withdrawing her hand.

"Good. When will you hear from him then?"

Elsie hadn't wanted to think about hearing back from the doctor and thus the question seemed to take her by surprise.

"I'm not sure. I suppose he'll let us know when he's got the results."

"Yes, of course.", Beryl nodded vigorously."And in the meantime?"

"We'll continue as usual, Mrs. Patmore. And you are not to say anything to anyone, understood?"

She was hesitant but after a moment nodded.

"Good. Now, I'm sure you've got a lot of work to do, I know I do.", she cleared her throat."Right, I must have a word with Ms. Baxter and Anna, and do my rounds before our luncheon – after that, I can come and do the orders with you."

"Oh, that can wait, surely!"

"No, no. We've no time for that tomorrow so we best do it today. And I will be busy for the rest of the evening sorting out accommodations for extra guests.", she frowned, making mental notes of everything that needed to be done – a word with Lily at the top of her to-do list."I best get on, else I'll never finish for the day."

There was no doubt the day would be long for the servants of Downton Abbey

…

How she had ended up making beds at half past five in the afternoon was a complete mystery to Elsie. Perhaps the answer to her wonders could be found within the long list of chores she'd laid before her maids just half an hour ago that would undoubtedly keep them busy until dinner.

She cursed herself, for now, she was the one having to make beds for Mr. Napier and two other guests that had been invited to stay at the Abbey by Lord Grantham at the last minute – some old college friends apparently. She couldn't wait to get back home and enjoy a warm bath before cuddling in bed with her husband. Her whole body seemed to ache after a long day of work. Her mind tried to think of possible ways to get her and Charles out and away from work as early as possible but struggled to find any.

Concentrating once more on the task at hand, she tugged at the sheets to spread them neatly across the mattress and tucked the corners tightly in place. With two swift movements, she fluffed the pillows and smoothed the covers with the back of her hand. A job well done, she admired and stepped back to inspect the room for anything out of place. Her gaze found the terribly comfortable-looking armchair by the fireplace. Suddenly she had to fight the urge to sit down, the ache in her body presenting itself all the more upon her stopping to fully have time to feel it.

If she were to sit down now, she'd have to rush through the last two beds. But the temptation seemed too strong not to take on the chance to put her feet up for a moment. She walked to the chair with what to her seemed extremely wobbly legs and carefully sat down.

Only upon sitting down, she realised how tired she had gotten in the past few hours. She really should have an early night tonight to survive through tomorrow.

Elsie leaned to reach the clasps of her shoes and quickly unlatched them. The shoes slipped easily off her feet and onto the carpet. She wiggled her toes and one leg at a time lifted her legs to rest on the small ottoman at her feet. A sigh fell from her lips.

If a member of the family were to see her now, she'd be in trouble, but at the moment she couldn't bring herself to care. All she could think of was how tired she was and how she couldn't wait to get back home and to bed.

And the last thing on her mind before she allowed herself to rest her eyes was how badly she wanted this torment to end.