Embracing The Future

Summary: One step at a time. Big ones and small ones. They all lead us to a happy ending.

Since that wonderful outing to the beach, everything has changed, though admittedly in gradual ways. Of course, with Mr. Carson, I should expect nothing less. He has always been reluctant to change, even when the world around us demands it. He clings to traditions and guidelines as if they were a life vest destined to save him from utter demise and ruin. But, that is what makes him the man he is and one must accept that and try to gently nudge him forward, or simply shout and scream at him with the knowledge that nothing will alter his opinions. No, with him, it's the subtle things that urge him to change, to move ahead, that make him see reason and eventually give him the courage to take another step away from the old ways, to explore new and exciting paths in front of him.

I never imagined the excursion to the beach would bring about such wonderful transformations in him. He seemed ever so hesitant to paddle into the water with me, but once he took my hand there was no looking back ... for either of us. As long as I live, I will never forget the way his hand felt in mine, the gentle way he squeezed my hand as a particularly strong wave lapped at our feet. Even when we were on sure footing and the waves were much gentler, he refused to let go of my hand. He reminded me of a hesitant child taking his first steps while trusting the person beside him to keep him safe. Perhaps that's when he realized that I have always kept him safe. I like to think so.

When we returned to the London house, I expected things to return to normal. The events at the beach, while lovely and uplifting, were, I assumed, going to be left behind. I expected Mr. Carson to return to his stoic persona, the stern butler who never puts a toe out of line for fear that it might reflect poorly on the family. I'm happy to say that I was pleasantly surprised.

That evening, everyone had retired earlier than usual thanks in part to the draining effects of the sand and sun. I was grateful, too, for I had plans of going up to bed earlier than normal, but when he appeared in my doorway with a bottle of wine and two glasses, I could not refuse. He wore a lovely smile and his features and stance seemed more relaxed, resembling his demeanor at the beach. I promptly invited him into the sitting room and we shared laughs and wonderful conversation over many glasses of wine before we decided it would be best if we retired, too. I believe that night is when it all started.

The days that followed were much the same. During the day, Charles Carson was the same man I had worked with for decades. He could still be gruff sometimes with the footmen, would still get easily flustered if something was amiss, and would be mortified if the table wasn't laid properly. But in the evening hours, he dropped the mask for me and allowed himself to be more at ease. I noticed that we started speaking less and less of the household duties, balls, and servants and more about our lives before Downton.

I suppose you could say we were sharing stories from our pasts while together we were taking tentative, quiet steps forward towards some upcoming understanding. We never spoke of the future, of retirement, or even the following weeks or months ahead. We were content to simply take each day, each hour as it arrived, with no expectations or hopes for what it might hold. But, to be fair, that never stopped either of us from trying to make them meaningful.

I would make it a point during the day to stop by his pantry just for a moment of solitude with him. He would frequently do the same to me, and we always spent our evenings together. The nights when the family was away, we would send the staff to bed early and enjoy the extra hour of quiet time together before one of us would yawn, signaling that it was time we sent ourselves to bed.

It was the last night in London before several of us returned to Downton Abbey. We would be leaving Mr. Carson and a few of the others behind to tend to the family, and he wanted to spend the evening with me. That has always been our routine. We use the end of the day to unwind together, to catch up on the current household events, and to plan for the days and weeks ahead. But that night, there was something different about him, a nervousness that seemed to surround him which made me uneasy as well.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Carson?" I couldn't stand the atmosphere in the room any longer. If there was something wrong, I needed to know. If he was starting to regret our new comfort and ease with each other, I desperately wanted to diffuse the situation, to put his mind to rest. Above all, I wanted my friend to feel he could open up to me about whatever it was that was troubling him.

"Yes, and no, Mrs. Hughes." His answer was simple and yet daunting. "I find myself in a situation, and I'm not quite sure how to proceed. It's all very ... unsettling, for lack of a better word."

I gave him a small smile and reached across to cover his hand with mine, hoping I wasn't being too forward, but trusting that my touch would not be unwelcomed. He looked up at me and gave me that sad smile I've seen all too often on his face. "Why don't you tell me what it is that's bothering you? Who knows? I might have a solution or some idea on how to help you with your problem."

He turned his hand beneath mine so that he was now holding my hand, and he gave it a squeeze. "And what would you say if I told you that you were both the problem and the solution to my unease? Would you still say that you might have the answers for me?"

I could tell by the tone of his voice and the small spark in his eyes that he was teasing me but there was a hidden truth in his words. And I will also freely admit that I was struck speechless. Occasionally, he still reminds me about the look that crossed my face when I heard his words. My mind raced with all sorts of responses, though none of them found their way to my tongue and lips. I certainly had trouble speaking my next words, but I plucked up enough courage to try. "Goodness, the problem and its solution? Now you must tell me what in heavens name I've done."

He smiled and shook his head as the little laugh lines began to appear near his eyes. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and butterflies fluttering in my stomach as my eyes met his. His thumb lightly stroked the back of my hand, and I was suddenly lost. I didn't dare speak another word and shatter the tender moment happening between us. Having him hold my hand behind closed doors late at night seemed much more risqué than anything I had said or done at the beach.

"You showed me another way," he answered truthfully.

My mind suddenly recalled a day over ten years ago when I had asked him if he'd ever thought of choosing a different path in life. I had just received another letter from Joe Burns, and I was going to have to make a choice between the life I had and the life Joe was offering. In the end, I knew I could never leave Downton and Charles Carson, so I let Joe down as easily as possible. "Another way? You're going to have to be a little more specific, Mr. Carson."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, never once breaking eye contact with me or loosening his hold on my hand. "This past year, you've shown me that in order to move forward, I must let go of the past and focus on the present. I realize it's taken me longer to come to terms with my history than either of us would have liked, but I finally came to understand something at the beach. I've merely been struggling with the best way to share my thoughts with you and to tell you what I've learned."

"Why not just say what you're thinking? We're old and very dear friends. If you can't be open and honest with me, then what does that say about our friendship?" I offered him a reassuring smile, hoping to put him at ease. Boldly, I shifted my hand in his and laced our fingers together, our palms touching. My, but I was taking some very bold chances, though I never thought of the consequences. I only knew that I was acting on pure instinct, and it felt right.

The warmth from his hand seemed to travel over my entire body. I could feel his rapid heartbeat though our laced fingers. It was oddly reassuring and comforting to know that his heart was beating furiously like mine. His hand was strong and tender, just as I had remembered from the beach, but when our palms touched, I felt something entirely different, something more than just a friend holding my hand.

"I suppose you're right, as usual, Mrs. Hughes. The best thing to do is to say what needs saying and let the cards fall as they will. That's what you would do, isn't it?" I nodded and tried to offer him as much reassurance and courage as I could muster. "Very well, then," he said rather nervously.

I waited with baited breath, unsure of whether or not his words would bring happiness or heartbreak, but knowing I had to face the outcome regardless. He seemed to grow a bit flustered, and I watched as the tip of his tongue slipped out to wet his lips. I suddenly found that I could not draw my eyes away from his face despite the charged atmosphere between us.

"I don't want to go back to our old ways, Elsie."

His voice was soft and a little hesitant but I couldn't have cared less. He had just used my first name and it sounded so beautiful falling from his lips. I am not a giddy schoolgirl anymore but I will concede that there's something about the way his voice whispered my name that made me feel so incredibly young again. I had to fight to stay focused on his words, trying to read between the lines, to pick up on all the key words and phrases.

"Since that day at the beach, I've not been able to stop thinking about what you said to me as we were wading into the water. You can always hold my hand if you need to feel steady. I see your bright smile when I close my eyes at night, and I hear your laughter in my dreams. It all sounds very cliché, which is one reason why I've been reluctant to speak any of this to you before now. I didn't want you to think I was making something much more from an innocent comment and friendly gesture."

I shook my head and squeezed his hand, bringing my free hand to cover the back of his hand. I now held his hand in both of mind, and it felt so good, so right. "I would never think that, Charles." Using his first name felt awkward at first, but as I watched his face brighten, I knew I had made the right decision. "To be fair, I don't want to return to the old ways, either, but you're going to have to help me understand exactly what that means." I watched as he shifted nervously in his chair.

Charles rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand then the tip of his reddening ear. "I told you on Valentine's day that I'm no stranger to romance. Well, what I will admit to is that I might be a little out of practice." His face flushed and his hand shook a little in mind. "But, I would very much like it ... it would give me great pleasure ..." He cleared his throat once more. "I would be honored if you would allow me to court you, Elsie."

My heart skipped a few beats and I couldn't stop myself from laughing nervously. However, having known Charles for so many years, I knew I had to quickly explain myself for fear that he would take my laughter to be mocking, and it was certainly anything but that.

"Do you have any idea how happy it makes me to hear that from you? I would be delighted if you would court me, Charles Carson, very much delighted." Not able to sit still a moment longer, I rose from my seat and pulled him up with me. Without giving it a second thought, I stepped closer to him, so much so that there was very little room between us.

The look in his eyes was breathtaking. They were soft and clear. No more clouds from the past to darken them. No more hesitations to hinder his movements. With his free hand, he tenderly cupped my cheek, and I unashamedly closed my eyes and leaned into his hand, reveling quietly in the soft caress.

"I wish you didn't have to return to Downton tomorrow." He uttered the words that we both dreaded.

"It's only for a few more weeks." I tried to sound positive but inside I was already feeling the pang of loss. We had just taken a large step forward and now we would be separated again. "I hope you won't forget me after tomorrow or let some pretty young girl turn your head." I don't know why I said those things. They merely tumbled form my mouth before I could stop them. I knew, better than anyone, that Charles Carson did not give his heart freely to anyone and was certainly not one of those men who sought pleasure or company from the working women of the streets.

Instead of bristling at my ill-timed comment, he countered with one of his own. "I could say the same of you, Elsie Hughes. You've had a suitor and marriage proposal more recently than I've courted a woman. And I've most definitely never asked for someone's hand in marriage."

His thumb brushed across my lips and I sighed ever so softly. "I will miss you but it's only for a short while. You'll be back at Downton soon. Then, we can see where this courting takes us." I gave him a little wink and reached up to cup his cheek with my hand. The stubble on his face prickled my palm, an exciting sensation which I have since grown to love for several reasons.

We stood there for several long minutes, neither of us willing to break the small connection we had. It was something refreshing, something reassuring, something entirely new. The air around us seemed to thicken. The ticking of the clock was no longer audible to my ears. The house and everyone in it seemed to be motionless. Even the noise from the outside world was drowned out entirely. The only thing I could hear was my heartbeat and the sounds of us breathing.

And then it happened. With no warning. No asking for permission as I had always imagined. No reluctance or hesitancy on his part or mine. It simply ... happened.

His eyes locked with mine and we seemed to be in a trance. I couldn't move, could barely think. I watched as his head slowly began to lower towards mine. Instinctively, my tongue darted out to moisten my lips. His did the same. His lips parted as his face drew nearer to mine. I closed my eyes in sweet anticipation, tilting my head up to meet his. My hand, which had been on his cheek, now settled at the base of his neck, not pulling or forcing his head towards mine, simply resting there.

The hand he had used to cup my cheek ghosted along the side of my throat and down to my shoulder. I suddenly missed the warmth of his hand on my face. But I was rewarded by that same broad, strong hand settling at the dip in my waist. With confidence, he drew me one step closer to him as he took a small step towards me. We were standing toe to toe, torso to torso.

Then, it felt like we were flying. His lips brushed across mine softly, like a whisper, and then they were gone. I started to open my eyes but those delicious lips suddenly returned, this time with more purpose. He nibbled lightly on my bottom lip causing me to release a slight whimper of happiness. I felt him smile against my lips before claiming them once more. His breath was hot on my face, his tongue skilled, his lips supple. I found myself melting into his arms, his touch, his intoxicating kiss.

I had never before been kissed so thoroughly with such a light brushing of someone's lips on mine, but Charles had a way of conveying so many thoughts, desire, and emotions with so few movements. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him tightly to me. I never wanted the moment to end. When he pulled back from the kiss, I whimpered once more, painfully feeling the loss of his lips on mine.

Our foreheads touched as we tried to take a moment to regain our senses. We were both a little breathless. I had tried to encourage and entice him with my kisses, trying to give as good as I was getting. Based on the grin on his face, I had succeeded. I could not remember a time when I had felt happier. I have always tried to enjoy life, but nothing had prepared me for the happiness I felt after receiving that first kiss from him. That silly schoolgirl was back, only this time I had no desire to send her away. I wanted, more than anything, to take Charles's hand and run out into the night, to laugh and love as a young couple might do these days. But that is not what happened.

He took a step back from me and for a moment I worried he was unhappy, but I couldn't have been more wrong. "Perhaps that will give you something to think on while you're waiting on me to return from London." He gave me a wink and there was a distinct gleam in his eyes. "I'm sure that will help me make it through these next few weeks without you."

"There is always the telephone, and we can exchange letters. It might be quite nice to begin our courtship with sweet letters and late night phone calls."

"I will say it again, Elsie. You do have a way of making even the simplest of things sound risqué."

I rested my hand on his chest over his heart and gave a loud, light-hearted laugh. "Did you ever stop to think, Charles Carson, that it's your own imagination and thoughts that make my innocent statements sound risqué? Just what, exactly, were you planning to write in your letters to me? If you're planning to tell me the man ways you're going to court me once you return, I'd rather you keep that to yourself. I do love surprises, and I know you. You ever do anything by halves."

"You are correct and courting you is no exception. When I return, I plan to devote myself to you and your happiness."

I reached up and caressed his cheek before standing on my tiptoes to kiss him once more. This time, I let my lips hover over his for a fleeting moment, teasing him, before I could take it no longer. His lips were so sweet, and I was already addicted. It was my turn to set the pace, and, to my surprise, he relaxed in my embrace. This is the sort of give and take we've enjoyed in so many other ways. We were simply adding another aspect to our relationship. We already knew we worked well together as colleagues and were the best of friends. It seemed easy and natural to fall into this exciting part of our lives.

We remained downstairs for another hour or two that evening before deciding that we should go to bed. When we reached the top of the landing where we must finally part ways, he took both my hands in his and gave them a squeeze. With a gentle tug, he pulled me in closer and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. Before he could turn and walk away, however, I made sure to return the favor. I don't believe either of us slept a wink that night.

With the daybreak came the realization that I would have to pack up and leave. Breakfast that morning was a quiet affair despite the hustle and bustle surrounding us. I buttered his toast for him. He prepared my tea just the way I like it. We took pleasure in the little things.

I was in the sitting room making sure I hadn't forgotten anything when I heard the door close with a soft click. I turned to see him standing there looking every bit as handsome as I had ever seen him. I took a deep breath and crossed the room to stand before him. I wasn't sure how he would want to proceed, and I wasn't going to push. I was thankful he read my mind and erased all doubts from it.

Charles drew me into his arms and hugged me tightly to his chest. I rested my cheek against his lapel, making sure to take deep breaths so I could remember the smell of his cologne. "I'm going to miss you."

He placed his finger beneath my chin and tilted my head up towards his. One soft kiss followed another to my cheeks, my lips, and finally my forehead. A noise from the corridor and the chiming of the clock forced us apart. It was time to gather my hat and coat. As much as I wanted to stay in London, stay in his arms, duty demanded that I leave. After helping me on with my coat and dropping one last kiss to my lips, he opened the door and I was soon on my way to the train station with the others.

It wasn't until later that afternoon that I found the love letter he had slipped into my pocket. As hard as it was, I managed to wait until bedtime that evening to read it. His words were just as pretty on paper as if he had whispered them into my ears. I couldn't wait to write him a letter in return. Maybe the rest of the time apart wouldn't be so bad if he continued to write lovely letters like this one.

When he finally returned, I had to try to contain my happiness. None of the other staff knew of our new understanding and we decided to keep it that way until we had charted our course. Mrs. Patmore was the first to be told, followed by the family. They were all incredibly pleased for us. I was relieved, more for his sake than my own. He always put more stock in their thoughts and opinions so I'm grateful they didn't let him down when it mattered most.

Tomorrow, we take the next step in our journey. I'm sure the next two weeks will be a flurry of activity, but we're both looking forward to them. We will be wed tomorrow in a simple ceremony at the church, followed by a quiet reception at the house. I'm told even the Dowager Countess has expressed her happiness for us and is planning to attend. Then, after two days spent in our new cottage, we will return to the house to complete the training of the new housekeeper and butler. Then, we will retire to our little cottage and embark on our new life together as Mr. and Mrs. Carson.

For now, I should end this first journal entry and get back to my original purpose. Charles and I decided to write each other a love letter to be exchanged when we're alone in our cottage. It seems that Charles Carson is no stranger to romance and he's bringing out the romantic in me. I hope, by now, he's discovered the little note I left under his pillow and tomorrow he should find the slip of paper in the pocket of his suit coat. I tried to keep it simple but meaningful.

Meet me at the altar and take my hand. We'll never feel unsteady again.

The End.