Another long delay between chapters! This author deserves to have tomatoes thrown at them for this tardiness!
It had taken less than a day for Elsie to engineer the opportunity she needed to get Charles on his own. Their half days were deliberately set so as to never coincide, one trusting the other to step in for them should it be required, though in truth it rarely was; the long reach of their influence throughout the staff was more than sufficient to sustain a few hours of absence. Yet a quiet word to Mr Bates and Miss Baxter had things shifted around in no time at all. It was almost too quick for Elsie to prepare herself for the impending conversation, yet it did have one clear advantage - that of Charles having almost no time to protest before he was practically being handed his hat and coat and hurried out of the door.
The drizzle that had greeted them on opening their curtains had lifted to leave a bright spring day, the fresh green shoots that adorned the trees down towards the lake almost shining as the sun bounced off the raindrop-covered leaves. The path that curved up and around the sheltered body of water was pleasingly free of puddles which made their progress towards the village easy. Not that this was to be their destination, rather a ruse to get Charles to play along with the idea that this time together was a treat given to them by the staff.
"I hope this isn't to be a regular occurrence," he'd grumbled as they'd left the shadow of the great house and headed downwards past the ancient cedars.
"No, heaven forbid you'd want to spend time with your wife," she'd countered, not a little affronted at the slight.
As he'd rushed to correct himself she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm in quiet reassurance that it didn't matter. Or at least that she wasn't going to let it bother her today. He had a point though, she'd mused to herself. It was going to be difficult to make this kind of arrangement in the future, at least in terms of it becoming a regular arrangement. If it hadn't been done for the Bates' then it seemed unfair that it should be for them. Though it could be argued they erred there and this would be an opportunity to set things right. Why shouldn't a married couple be allowed to spend time with one another?
But any conversation along these lines died away before it ever got started as they fell into step with one another, the views enjoyed from the path enough to keep them distracted from discussing anything else than their all round good fortune. They journeyed in this vein for half a mile or so, the sound of songbirds filling their ears as they followed the gentle slope towards the water. At the bottom, it forked - one route curved back up and over the mound before descending into the village; the other simply looped back on itself and would eventually return them to the house. And as the point of decision came into sight, Elsie could feel her heart starting to beat faster. She'd gotten this far with revealing her true intent and whilst she could hide the truth from him when it came to matters of others, when it came to herself he could read her like a book, most of the time at least.
"I wonder," she began, "I wonder if we should leave the village for today. I mean, it's such a lovely morning we could just enjoy it. Tackle the climb up to the temple and take in the view."
She could hear how her words seemed to be blurring together as they tumbled out. But if Charles noticed he didn't say, and instead countered her suggestion.
"I thought you wanted to go to the church," Charles replied. "I know I've been putting it off, making the final hymn selection, but I think you're right. It won't do any harm to have one Scottish hymn."
"Well, that's good of you," she muttered, but shook her head and took a deep breath in. She couldn't let herself be distracted now. Pulling gently on his arm, she brought them both to a stop before releasing him from her grip. He turned to face her, his forehead creased into an unspoken question. But she fought to even look at him, her hands now clenched around the stiff handle of her bag. It was now or never, and never was an awfully long time.
"Charles, we're getting married in a fortnight and it's time to face that fact head on," said Elsie with an air of determination that surprised them both,"And yes, we do need to visit the church but first we need to talk."
"Talk," he baulked, his face simultaneously draining of colour and flooding with confusion, "About what?"
"About what?" she exclaimed, "About us, Charlie. Our marriage. And if you're honest with yourself you'd see that it's long overdue."
He'd wanted to speak as they made their way up towards the Temple of Diana, but fear stilled his tongue. He should perhaps demand what it was she meant by it all, or beg her not to be too hasty in deciding they'd be better as friends, or even throw himself at her mercy with a declaration that he could do better, that he would try anything, everything just to keep her as his. But all he could do was put one foot in front of the other, to walk not quite by her side but close enough to hear how her breathing laboured as they reached the steepest part, to see her foot slipping on the loose gravel and to offer a hand to save her from falling. He almost sighed with relief when she took it and offered him a look of gratitude, until he remembered that this might be the moment when all his dreams and hopes for the future were to be dashed, and his heart to be left shattered against the rocks on which they stood.
"I always forget just how wonderful the view is from up here," Elsie breathed, her hand shielding her eyes as she took in the rolling hills across the valley. "The first Earl knew what he was doing when he had this built."
"I would think the Earl then as well as all those since have known what they were doing," he bristled, holding his head high as he kept his gaze firmly on the rolling hills distant horizon.
He sensed her turning to him and imagined exactly how her eyes would be rolling at him at just that moment. He sounded like the puffed up and pompous old man that everyone thought him to be but as someone on the precipice he didn't much care.
"Shall we sit?" she asked, a question that had him looking around for a bench.
But there wasn't one. Instead, he watched as she made her way to the edge and sat down, shuffling a little until her legs hung over the edge. It was about as unladylike a position as he'd ever seen her.
"Oh, come on, Charlie," she admonished, "There's no one here to see us."
She tapped her hand on the solid stone next to her, a clear sign that she expected him to join her. He looked around and, with great reluctance, acquiesced.
"This is all rather ridiculous," he started, "We could have easily got a pot of tea and sat in your room, or mine. You didn't need to drag me all the way up here to say whatever it is you think you need to."
She twisted her neck to look at him but he ignored it. He wasn't ready yet to face her full on. And so they sat, the sound of the wind rustling in the trees and the chirp of a bird calling for its mate, the only sound save for the thumping in his chest that would not be silenced.
"I did need to bring you here," she said at last, "At least, we had to be away from that place. As much as it's been my home, I can't be Elsie there. Not anymore."
"How do you mean?" he asked, curiosity almost causing him to look over to her.
"I mean at the house I'm Mrs Hughes, housekeeper. For this I need to be Elsie. I want to be a bride for a moment as opposed to a trusted servant organising an event."
Charles frowned. "But we've settled that. The family isn't involved beyond being on the guest list."
"I know that," she retorted gently, "But...oh, I can't explain it really." She shook her head and took a deep breath. "I want us to talk and I don't think we can do it there."
Charles shook his head. Women! They always made everything so complicated. He didn't go in for idle chatter and only half heard what married men shared with one another over their early evening pints in the Downton Arms, but he largely agreed that if women would stop their fussing and worrying then life would be far more straightforward. He just wanted to marry her, for goodness sake, and what could be simpler than that.
"I know you likely think I'm worrying and fussing over nothing," she said, his body stiffening as he imagined he'd just spoken his thoughts and not just thought them, "And maybe I am, but it doesn't make me wrong."
"Then please, go ahead," he replied, pleased with the magnanimity he seemed to have rustled up from nowhere. "I hope you know I'm prepared to listen to anything you have to say."
He half held his breath as she seemed to stop and think, almost as if she was reconsidering saying anything at all. And God, he hoped she would. He was so happy, delirious at times, at their impending nuptials that he wanted nothing to do with anything that would risk it. But risk it she appeared to be about to do as she suddenly grabbed his hand from his lap and pulled it into her own and the words began to flow with a stuttering hurriedness that had him frowning even harder than he ever had before.