Part of me would love to write a version of this story which alters Mrs Patmores's role in bringing Carson and Mrs Hughes to understand just what their marriage will be, but I can't do it! Those scenes are too wonderful as they are. Plus I'm a bit scared to try! So, here we are - Elsie has her doubts through Charles' lack of romantic action and the one person who can fix it is Mrs Patmore. Please forgive me as I let your intimate knowledge of that episode fill in the blanks whilst we move on to the next part. This is short but (hopefully) sweet!
Their lips pressed together for too brief a moment, too chastely for them both, but it was enough. It was more than enough.
"To live as closely as two people can do"
God, how much he'd meant that, he realised, as the woman he loved nestled deep against his chest. He'd not spoken frivolously but her arms surrounding him, her scent teasing his nostrils, only served to give his desire greater strength. To have been so close for so long but never allowing himself to speak, to not voice his adoration, to not reach out and hold her hand during their trip the other evening. He'd been a fool; a stubborn, scared, old fool, but no more. Now he had his girl in his arms and he in hers, and it all seemed so remarkable that it had ever been different, whilst unlikely that it had ever been possible.
The party continued to rage somewhere outside the walls of his pantry, with what was likely the latest dance hall sensation blaring loudly from the gramophone as the whole of the downstairs revelled in the Bates' good news. Charles could only imagine how that hullabaloo was progressing in the absence of his watchful eye; straight towards vulgarity he didn't wonder. But the noise seemed to fade the longer they stood, almost stock still, and he wasn't minded to move anytime soon. The breakthrough between them was too significant to risk.
"If you want me, you can have me"
Charles felt his body responding as her words echoed through his mind. She couldn't possibly know the effect they were likely to have on him, she was too innocent to foresee their full implication. Though, he suddenly registered, not sufficiently innocent to not to say it, or think it in the first place. He shifted awkwardly, his feet scuffing against the rug, suddenly extremely aware of the hard boning of her corset pressing against his stomach. Where his hand rests along her back, holding her close, he realised now he could feel where the edge of that same undergarment ended and skin began. Abruptly, he took a step back, not quite releasing his hold but putting some much needed air between them.
The change in position had Elsie moving too, her head lifting up so she could catch his eye. He tried to resist looking down but he couldn't so that when their eyes met he could only hope she saw love in his gaze, and not anything else.
"I'd say this was all very improper, Mr Carson, if we hadn't already spent half the week talking about our marital duties."
Her voice was soft with the thick Scots drawl that he'd come to associate with her speaking the absolute truth. He supposed that he was guilty of that too. It was harder to act as others expected you too when in the midst of laying yourself bare in front of another.
"Maybe that is what an engagement is for," he speculated in return, "Getting used to being improper."
He could hear how that sounded, how his voice dropped an octave making it all so much more scandalous than he intended. But he didn't take it back, not even when her face showed one of mild surprise. In fact, he thought he could rather get used to the sight of her cheeks flushed with pink. He watched as she gathered herself, curious to know if she'd pull away completely or offer a clever retort. He rather thought the first would be the most natural response, the second more likely.
But she did neither. Instead she stepped forward and back into his arms. The intimacy of before returned, and then quickly developed as, standing up on tiptoes, she brushed her lips against his. He almost bolted but the rush of excitement that flooded his body somehow also held him still. Her breath was hot against his cheek where she didn't move away, their lips hovering just an inch apart. At some point his hands had dropped to his sides and hers to rest lightly against the lapels of his coat. He moved to pull at her waist, encouraging her towards him and as she did, he kissed her. Not with the fleeting politeness of before, but boldly and with determination. Their bodies seemed to mould together as he lengthened the contact, hands reaching around her back to hold her to him and the pressure of his lips encouraging hers to open up, just a little.
He waited, counting the thuds of his heartbeat as they threatened to burst from his chest. He was near to giving up, close to accepting she wasn't ready for more, but then she hummed. It was so slight, so quiet, that he thought he'd mistaken the sound for something else. But then her lips parted ever so slightly and it was all he could do not to delve into their depths of her welcoming mouth and begin to explore. Instead, he acted with as much restraint as he could muster to deepen and lengthen the kiss as much as he thought she'd allow.
Eventually he pulled back, breathless and with eyes heavy with lustful imaginings, relieved to see the same reflected back at him.
"So, we are settled on a full marriage then?" she breathed with the hint of a snigger.
"I think so, Mrs Hughes. I think so."
They grinned at one other for a moment before the sound of the dance music coming to an abrupt stop hurtled them back to reality.
A rapid knock at the door had them both smoothing down their hair with their hands, Charles tugging at his waistcoat whilst Elsie straightened her skirts.
"I've no wish to disturb you, Mr Carson," came the familiar tone of an overwrought cook, "But I think a pot of coffee is in order out here, and maybe a few buckets of cold water to calm everybody down!"
And, just like that, it was over. They were the butler and housekeeper once more, the very model of chastity. But as they rounded the corner into the servant's hall, she risked a look towards him and it sent shockwaves deep to his core. It was primal with longing eyes and demanding lips, and then it was gone, her attention focused wholly on what was in front of them. But he'd seen it and she knew he had. Giving a silent huff of resignation he walked on, following where she led. The long wait until they could be alone once more had begun.
P.S. Thank you for your lovely reviews. That anyone reads my stories is amazing and that anyone is kind enough to review them is remarkable, and I'm so appreciative!