End Of Honeymoon.

The Carsons arrived at the bus stop, which was close to the busy town centre, at around 12.30pm. The bus was packed and Charles didn't say a word to Elsie during the journey. When they got off, the small town centre was already bustling with activity. The pavements were full of passers-by.

"Hard to believe! I take my time getting married for years and then a congress takes place during my honeymoon. As if there were no other places for it!", he stated indignantly.

Elsie grabbed his left elbow and pulled it back and forth a little. She wanted to remind him of her words at the breakfast table and grinned at him. Charlie fell for her lovely sight again and calmed down. He allowed her to hook in and placed his right hand on hers. Elsie was visibly more comfortable in the commotion than Charles. She liked it when there was movement, when she could feel the life around her.

After a few steps, they reached the centre of the small town, which was made up of charming brick houses with well-filled flower boxes in front of them. Elsie was enraptured by the charm of the place, she felt like she was in a romantic painting by Claude Monet.

"What a lovely place, Charlie.", she enthused.

"There are so many people here!", her husband said angrily.

"You and I are here. That's all that matters." Elsie quickened her pace, pulled Charles along and stopped under a black sign with gold lettering on it. "Look, Charlie, a photographer. Do we want to have a matrimonial portrait taken?"

Charles looked up at the sign and didn't let his thoughts show.

"What do you say, Charlie? Do we?" Elsie was eager to hear Charles' answer.

"I think a photo for our mantelpiece would be an excellent idea." Elsie was pleased with Charles' statement.

While Charles walked up the two steps to the front door and made the little bell on the door jingle as he opened it, Elsie looked round again with a flourish. Just as she was about to turn towards Charles to follow him, she felt as if she had just seen a familiar face on the other side of the street. In disbelief, she tried to catch another glimpse of the older, blond man and shifted from one foot to the other, even sticking her nose up to get a better view through the crowd, but she could no longer see him. It must have been her imagination. Meeting him here would have been a great coincidence. But now she thought she had recognized this disastrous man from the guesthouse. Elsie blinked again, becoming nervous and looking over her shoulder at her husband. Hopefully Charles hadn't spotted him too.

"Elsie?" Charles was waiting for her in the open door.

She shook her head, as if she could throw what she had seen out of her mind, and made her way to Charles. Fortunately, he hadn't noticed.

"What did you saw?", her husband asked curiously, noticing her unease. Elsie realised how a shock ran through her body.

"No one ... er nothing ... - I meant I didn't see anything, Charlie. Come on, let's go and see if the photographer has an appointment for us."

Charles and Elsie entered the shop and were completely absorbed by the peace and relaxation they could find here, as soon as the door closed with another ring. All the turmoil and unrest they had just witnessed on the streets had no power here. The walls were lined from top to bottom with photographs of various families and people. Neither Charles nor Elsie had ever seen anything like this. Elsie was excited that she would soon have a photo with her husband.

"Bonjour, Madame! Bonjour, Monsieur!"

Elsie and Charles jumped and turned to the counter opposite the entrance. There, unnoticed by both of them, stood a tiny man whose curly hair was tied back in a ponytail.

"How can I help you?", the man asked with a pronounced French accent.

"Good day! We would be interested in a photograph of the two of us.", Charles replied proudly.

"With pleasure. With pleasure. I'm Monsieur Foudre, the shop owner. Come closer.", the photographer asked them. Elsie's feet were already starting to move, but her gaze was still lingering on the pictures. It was difficult for her to tear herself away from the photos on the wall.

To his left, Monsieur Foudre pushed aside a red velvet fabric to reveal another room. He gestured to his customers to go through. Charles and Elsie's excitement grew. After all, you don't take a photo every day.

The studio was in the room behind the curtain. Unlike the anteroom, there was little to discover here. There were only props around the edges, such as chairs and wooden stools, and the camera itself. It stood imposingly on its three long wooden legs.

The photographer helped the couple to position themselves. The wife stood in front of her husband, who was to place a hand on her shoulder. Elsie tried to look seriously at the camera, as was usual. But she just couldn't manage to keep the corners of her mouth down. She was too overwhelmed. But after the photographer made no objections, she felt that her facial expression was in keeping with custom.

Monsieur Foudre went to his camera, lifted the black fabric and hid behind it. He didn't seem to like what he saw through his camera. He came out again and brought Elsie a footstool. With a hop, she stood on it.

The photographer checked the picture through his camera again and now seemed satisfied.

Elsie looked back at Charles for just a split second and was so surprised that she was so high up with him that she had to start laughing.

"Madame, I would like to take the photo now."

"Of course, forgive me!"

"Madame, your mouth ... it's still smiling."

"I'm sorry. I'll stop now."

Elsie took a deep breath, closed her eyes and concentrated on not laughing. She held her breath. But as soon as she opened her eyes again, Elsie began to giggle.

"Elsie, pull yourself together!", Charles hissed in her ear.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I'll stop now. I promise." Elsie took another deep breath, straightened her dress as a distraction and did her best to look seriously at the camera. She hoped that the photographer would press the shutter button quickly as she realised that she wanted to laugh again. She let it slide painfully down her throat and began to humming a low monotone to distract her laughing muscle.

Charles noticed Elsie's cramp and now had to fight with himself to not burst out laughing. As soon as Elsie heard her husband giggling behind her, she was no longer able to hold back and started laughing uproariously. Charles couldn't help himself and joined in his wife's liberating laughter.

"Madame, Monsieur! I can't work like this.", but instead of keeping them quiet, Monsieur Foudre's words only made them laugh even harder.

"We're sorry, Monsieur Foudre.", Charles apologised, wiping a tear of laughter from under his eye.

They gave up trying to take a photo and said an embarrassed goodbye to the unnerved photographer.

Once outside, Elsie and Charles laughed at each other.

"Because you're faxing like that, we couldn't take a photo.", he accused Elsie.

"As far as I know, it took you quite a while to calm down again!", she reminded him. "Why do you have to look so serious when you have your photo taken? Wouldn't it be nicer if our laughter was captured?"

"You and your utopian ideas!", Charles countered, shaking his head.

Back on the street, Elsie, unusually, no longer felt so comfortable in the commotion that was going on. The noise and the speed of the passers-by made her dizzy. She clung to Charles for protection. Her grip on him seemed tighter than usual and he looked down at her.

"Is everything all right?", Charles asked caringly.

"Yes, Charlie, thank you!" Hardly convinced by her words herself, she hoped that Charlie wouldn't notice her discomfort. She gave him a smile.

„Don't be sad that we didn't get a photograph, I just didn't mean it seriously.", Charles tried to comfort her. "We'll try again at home. What do you think?"

"No, I'm not sad. I'll never forget this moment, Charlie, my heart photographed it.", she told him. "Shall we go for an ice cream?", Elsie suggested without further ado. Maybe she needed some sugar in her blood.

The afternoon passed. Although Charles couldn't get on well with the crowds, he tried not to be a curmudgeon. The later it got, the more they both looked forward to dinner. Elsie, hoping that a warm meal would make her restless feeling go away. And Charles because he finally wanted to be alone and in peace with his wife.

_C&E_

"Charlie, our last evening is almost over ...", Elsie began dejectedly, letting a saddened breath escape her chest as they walked down the night streets.

"It's not our last night!", Charles countered confidently. "Our time is just beginning." His words brought a smile to Elsie's face; she loved it when the huge grumpy bear revealed his true tenderness through words. "We still have so many lovely evenings ahead of us, Elsie. Only the place will be different."

"Nonetheless! I need a big, hard fuck now, can you give me one?" Charles froze. What did she say? He was as white as a sheet.

"Charlie? What's wrong with you? Surely that can't have shocked you so much now?" Elsie thought back to their trip to the lake. "I know we're in public, but the streets are empty." Elsie defended herself, looking around. "I just want a hug, Charlie. Can I have one?"

"A hug? A hug? A hug!" Charles started to laugh. The wine at dinner must have intoxicated him too much.

"Yes, a hug.", Elsie confirmed, looking at him in surprise.

Amused, he grabbed her hips, pulled her close to him and kissed her passionately. The alcohol flowing through both their veins made the butterflies in their bellies flutter uncontrollably, their wings seemed to fuel their lust like a fire. At that moment, they were both looking forward to finally arriving at the guesthouse. Only with difficulty could they let go of each other's lips, they resumed their walk. Their steps were more hurried than before.

_C&E_

Elsie stood relieved in the middle of the room as Charles closed the door behind him. At last, the world was shut off from them. Charles turned to Elsie and savoured the lovely sight of her. He didn't switch on the light. He liked the way Elsie was illuminated by the moon. He took off his jacket and hung it on the door buckle.

And as impatient as she had been on the streets the moment before, she felt unsure now. She wasn't used to being looked at like this by Charles, she had to get used to this attention, she was never the centre of attention.

He approached her determining, grabbing at her as soon as she was within reach. He kissed her confidently, there was no question in his mind what would happen now, and that was how it should be for her too. He wanted her and he wanted her to know it. Charles let go of her lips and straightened up. His hands cupped her face, tilted Elsie forward and placed a kiss on her forehead before his hands travelled backwards into her hair. Hairpin by hairpin, he released her beautiful lengths. Elsie looked up at him, watching him as he did this with concentration and seriousness. He looked back down at Elsie when her hair was completely undone. Charles noticed Elsie's tear-filled eyes.

"Why are you crying?" He noticed that Elsie was swallowing hard and was unsurprised that she seemed too stubborn to shed a single tear.

"Because you touch me like I'm something special.", Elsie whispered, barely audible.

"But what else do you think you are?", Charles breathed gently.

Charles kissed Elsie again. She felt his desire as much as she felt her own. His hands slid up and down her back. He pushed her backwards towards the bed. But instead of giving in to the pressure, she stopped. In disbelief, he tried again, but it wasn't his imagination. Elsie remained standing. Charles ended the kiss and looked at her in amazement, both out of breath.

But before Charles could ask, Elsie wriggled out of his arms and led him by one hand to their bed.

"Go and lie down. I just need a minute in the bathroom.", she explained to Charles as she left him and closed the bathroom door behind her.

On her way to the drawer, Elsie recognised her flushed cheeks in the bathroom mirror and grinned to herself. First ashamed, then in disbelief, then in anticipation. Thank goodness she had enough alcohol in her system.

Her hand slowly opened the drawer and took out the fabric. Elsie gently unwrapped it and looked at it briefly. She carefully ran her fingers over it as she pinched her lower lip, wondering if she really wanted to do this. But she stuck to her plan and fastened the clasp of her chatelaine to the belt of her skirt as best she could. She found it difficult to close the clasp properly straight away, as her index finger now hurt badly at the slightest touch, and even the band aid no longer offered any protection against bumps.

She swung her hips back and forth making sure everything stayed in place. With a pained face, Elsie twisted her hair, that was previously so lovingly opened, into a braid and opened the door.

Before she stepped into the room, she took another deep breath. Careful not to sway, so as to cause her chains to vibrate as little as possible, she took a few steps into the room. She would like to keep Charles in the dark until the end. When she was in the middle of the room and Charles could get a good look at her, she stopped.

"You know, Charlie, I've never done anything like this before!", Elsie said apologetically.

"What do you mean?", he asked curiously, leaning against the headboard.

"Taken from me what I want. Well, yes ... I usually take what I want ... but not ... ."

Charles began to understand. "And now you want to take what you want?"

Elsie nodded and shrugged her shoulders. Charles thought back to the afternoon when Elsie 'sat' on his thigh and grinned. She was pretty close to taking what she wanted by then, but he kept it to himself.

"Oh, I don't know if I should feel ridiculous standing here in front of you like this, with the intention of..."

"Be sure ...", he interrupted Elsie. "I've been dreaming for years that you'd come to me in my attic room and take what you want, Elsie."

"But now I'm standing there ... and you're waiting for me, and you're looking at me, and I don't know what I ... how I ... Well, it was never that difficult in my imagination." Elsie's words secretly made Charles smile again. He liked the fact that he played a role in Elsie's imagination.

"Everything you do will be beautiful. There's nothing you can do wrong. Every touch you make is special to me. It's not granted to feel you. For years, I could only look at you."

Charles slid down the mattress until he could rest his head on the cushion, he closed his eyes, his hands clasped together at his stomach, his legs crossed. Elsie watched him and waited. But Charles did nothing more. He just lay there, breathing relaxed. After a few seconds, Elsie realised what Charles was trying to achieve: he was giving her the time she needed.

She walked slowly towards him. Charles heard the rustling of her clothes and a gentle rattle. On the outside he wanted to appear relaxed and unimpressed, but inside he was very tense, he was impatient, curious.

He noticed how she lowered her weight into the mattress, sitting close to him. She traced his frown line between his bushy eyebrows. In recent years, she has often watched them drawing a precise line between his brows. Elsie put her right hand to his cheek and stroked his lips with her thumb, her eyes scrutinising his face. After placing her hand on his chest, she kissed him. She played with his lower lip, pulling on it a little as she broke away from the kiss.

Her hands undid the first button of his shirt, followed by the second and the third. When the shirt was fully open, she ran her fingernails along his bare chest, scratching lightly. Charles liked this and gave Elsie a low murmur as a reward.

Elsie's fingers travelled further down and stopped at Charles' suspenders. She pulled on one end to undo the buckle and jerked it clumsily. Charles opened his eyes and realised that Elsie was holding her left hand up to her chest.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

"I'm sorry, Charlie, my finger hurts so much, I could barely undo the buttons on your shirt. Can you help me with your trousers?"

"I'm happy to help you. But let me see your finger first.", Charles said and reached for Elsie's hand. But she was quicker and pulled it aside.

"Later.", Elsie replied curtly and kissed him. "It's not that bad. The cut is just in an awkward place."

Charles was all too easily distracted. He was undoing the buckles of his suspenders and foresightedly kicked off his trousers. Now he was lying there in just his underpants and his opened shirt. Elsie wanted to look at his crotch and touch it, but didn't dare. She sat next to him, a little perplexed. Charles helped her, pulled her on top of him and kissed her. He placed one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her lower back.

Charles moved his hand further down and pinched Elsie's bum firmly, at the same time pressing his crotch against her femininity. They intensified their kiss, letting their tongues circle around faster. Charles moved his hands back and pushed Elsie's upper body up by her shoulders, to indicate to her that she should sit up. On top of him.

„Is this where you wanted to go?", he asked gently. Elsie nodded.

She straightened up and was delighted to feel Charles' bulge. It already felt very good to feel her entire weight against his hardness. She began to rub her currently most throbbing spot against him. Elsie realised how her desire was increasing. She let her hands hang loosely at the level of his belly button. Her cheeks reddened. She became more and more comfortable with the position and wanted to feel Charles against her without any fabric. Her gyrations with her hips became more confident and she forgot to be shy because of her lust. From time to time, Charles could hear the rattling of her chatelaine. For Charles, it was like a living daydream.

At that moment, Charles began to open Elsie's blouse. But he didn't take as much time as he did in the bathroom in the morning. He no longer had as much patience. Once the blouse was open and wiped down, he turned his attention to the more cumbersome corset. He straightened up and pressed Elsie tightly against him. His hands tried to loosen all the threads and hooks behind her back. He needed maximum concentration for this, which he no longer had at this hour. Elsie kissed him very demandingly and feeling her bouncing weight on his throbbing member like that was anything but helpful.

Finally, everything that trapped Elsie's upper body was open. His hands now held her bare back. As Charles slowly let himself fall backwards again, Elsie's corset slipped down, revealing her pretty, round, soft breasts.

He straightened up again, buried his face in her inviting bosom and turned his nose to the side. His mouth gleefully took in one nipple. The other breast was massaged. When he twirled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, Elsie let out a delighted moan. She held back for far too long.

Charles' member was enjoying the tightness of his trousers and the pressure of Elsie's womanhood, but he really wanted her now. He reached under her skirt and tugged at her damp pants. Together, they wriggled her legs out of the disruptive material and then did the same with his. Finally, wet lust lay on top of hard lust. Charles lifted Elsie's hips and penetrated her. As she took him in, a moan escaped her. It felt great to feel him like this. His hands found a place on her hips.

Elsie began with tentative movements that gradually became more demanding. Charles tried to hold back, which was not easy for him. He wanted to push against her, but he let her find her own pace. Instead, his right hand travelled under her skirt, squeezing and pulling her buttock. He watched Elsie as her pleasure increased, as she relaxed her head more and more and let her body take control of the action. She kept her eyes closed, just feeling. And heard panting and chains rattling. The faster they gasped, the more intense the rattling became. One spurred the other on.

Elsie stopped her movements and looked at Charles, her chest rising and falling sharply. She noticed that Charles' raised eyebrows were asking a question, he waited for an answer. She then started waving her hand in the air, gesturing to him that he would get an answer as soon as she had enough air in her lungs again.

"I'm just a bit dizzy ... the excitement ... the alcohol ... ", Elsie gasped out of breath.

Charles enjoyed the view of his wife. He liked the way her breasts danced in front of his nose. He enjoyed taking a more passive role and watching Elsie take what she wanted. After the short break, Elsie resumed her movements. She swiveled her hips in all directions, the chatelaine rattling to themselves. He realised how she was getting closer and closer to her climax. Charles wanted to heighten her sensations even more and massaged her clitoris with his thumb. Elsie moaned. Her climax was not long in coming.

"Pull my braid again, Charlie.", gasped Elsie, her cheeks glowing. Charles hadn't expected such an announcement, but wanted to do her a favour. He pulled her head back by her plait and kept a little tension on her hair. He could now clearly see Elsie's pulse beating on her neck. Charles realised that this excited him immensely and now accelerated Elsie's hip movements with his other hand. He could no longer hold back from this point, he wanted to bring her to orgasm. Elsie kept her eyes closed, she could no longer locate Charles' hands. He seemed to be everywhere: on her nipples, on her bum, on her back, on her swollen womanhood.

"Oh, Charlie.", she gasped excitedly.

Elsie had to control herself not to scream. Riding Charles, feeling him so deep inside her, felt insanely good. She savoured the intense, rattling thrusts that her husband gave her from below. Elsie's muscles tightened around Charles more and more. They both realised that it wouldn't be long now. His thumb circled her clitoris again, Elsie moaned rhythmically with her movements and she became increasingly short of breath. He pushed hard against Elsie's movements from below as Elsie groaned, stopped her movements and let the orgasm slide through her body. Charles noticed her pause and gave her a few seconds before he came to orgasm himself after a few more thrusts.

Exhausted and breathing heavily, Elsie lay down next to Charles and waited a few minutes before putting on her nightgown. With all the heat she had just had inside her, she was now beginning to feel cold. Sweaty and content, Charles lay in bed and waited for Elsie to snuggle up to him again.

_C&E_

Charles was woken by Elsie. Once again she was very restless. Similar to last night, only more pronounced. She mumbled to herself and shivered every few seconds. Charles couldn't see her face as she was lying with her back to him. He wanted to wait for her dream phase and see if Elsie would calm down again. But it seemed to him that the dream would never end. So Charles pushed on Elsie's shoulder to turn her onto her back.

Charles shuddered at the sight of Elsie. Her face was glistening with sweat and her breathing was rapid and raspy.

Charles's brain threatened to burst. All of Elsie's unusual behaviour over the last few days seemed to shot into his head at the same time like bolts of lightning. Her bouts of weakness, her loss of appetite, her dizziness suddenly made sense.

He quickly took her left hand in his and removed the plaster from her finger to confirm his suspicions. There it was, the cut. Darkly reddened all around and gaping apart.

"You stubborn little Scot!", he hissed at her as he rolled away from her and hopped out of bed. He hastily found his pyjama bottoms, pulled them on and threw on his dressing gown. Before he left the room, however, he positioned Elsie more comfortably and covered her up well. He touched her forehead; it glowed.

In his helplessness, he hurried down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone. He walked briskly to the telephone behind the reception desk, Mr. and Mrs. Dewshine certainly wouldn't mind if he just stepped behind the counter and grabbed the phone in an emergency.

He dialled the number for Downton Abbey. He wouldn't know how to help her with that, but he didn't have any other solution ready so quickly.

Excited, almost shaky, he dialled the digits on the dial. The operator picked up and connected Charles immediately to Downton Abbey's servant's telephone in Charles's pantry as requested, but it was still taking far too long for him. When would someone finally answer the phone, it was almost four o'clock in the morning. The first ones must be awake already.

"And why is it taking so long for you to pick up the phone?", Charles barked into the receiver as one of the kitchen maids picked up. "We'll talk about the correct salutation when I get back home. Get me Thomas on the phone now! [...] I don't care if he's still asleep. [...] Elsie is ill. So Mrs. Hughes. I mean Mrs. Carson. Mrs. Carson needs medical help. Go and get him. Immediately!"

There was an agonizing wait. Charles tipped impatiently with his fingers on the wooden counter. Suddenly he noticed a figure rising from the armchair in front of the bookshelves. It was that bloke. Of course he was. "Great! I already missed that one.", Charles thought pissed, rolling his eyes. He was lucky that Charles didn't have time for him now. The man put his empty whiskey glass down on the reception counter in front of Charles, greeted him politely with a nod of his head, and took the stairs up. Charles looked after him disapprovingly.

"Bastard!" Charles gritted his teeth, "Not you, Thomas! I need Dr. Clarkson's telephone number. [...] What do you mean he's not in town for a few days? Where is he? [...] Do you know where he is staying? [...] Do that!"

_C&E_

Charles walked up the stairs to Elsie, reassured but not relieved. In his hand he held a torn piece of paper on which he wrote down the address and the telephone number that Thomas had told him. He had already called, but still wanted to have it with him. It seemed ridiculous to him, but he felt reassured when he still had the written informations with him. Contritely, he put the note in his pajama pocket.

He reached the first floor and headed for their hotel room when the door swung open unexpectedly. Charles concern rose promptly and quickened his pace. He was sure that Elsie wouldn't be able to stay on her feet for long. But it wasn't Elsie who stepped out of the door. It was this bloke. Without thinking twice, and out of the deepest desire, Charles grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, pulled him out of the room and punched him in the face with his fist.

Oh my God, dear ones, I have now translated all the chapters. I hope I didn't make too many mistakes. Some sentences really bothered me for a long time and drove me crazy. I can well imagine that you have never read some sentence structures in this way before. :-) I just can't do it better. Am I ashamed? YES!

Now I'm happy that the story is finally continuing. I hope you're as excited as I am ;-)