A/N: So, I had a brief glimpse into the future running through my head when I was finishing up the second chapter, thinking of how I could unite the feelings I inspired with the events of the Christmas special. Then a review from amandacarson asked if I might write a few kisses after the wedding, and so I united the two ideas. I've had to raise the rating (oh the hardship for you all) but this is by no means a wedding night story proper, but there are echoes of what I hope could happen between them. This is really a series of moments.

Epilogue

Two months, six days, and roughly thirteen hours after Elsie Hughes admitted the fact that she wanted her fiancée just as much as he wanted her, Elsie Carson steps out of Downton village church, her smile as brilliant as the sun which shines, and her arm firmly tucked into the crook of Mr Carson's elbow. They had agreed not to kiss in front of the congregation, both of them feeling that to do so the instant they became man and wife might push the benevolent view the Grantham's had of their union slightly too far.

She is therefore extremely surprised to find that just a few steps outside the church, Charles pauses and turns her towards him. She is laughing in delight at the happy exuberance of the villagers about her, and then an expression in his eyes as he looks at her makes the laughter diminish and her breath quicken. He leans towards her, but she has the greater distance to travel, meaning that his lips are fully puckered before they connect with hers. It is a brief kiss, for show really, and he is evidently enjoying playing up to their audience judging from the smacking sound his lips make when they leave hers.

He is not entirely immune to the romantic possibilities however. She can feel his hand at her waist, where it is trapped between their bodies, and she knows she does not imagine the way his fingers flex and lightly stroke her middle, something he is free to do now that they fully belong to each other.

XOX

Later, when she is in need of a brief rest from the celebrations, she is happily tucked away in a corner of the school house, Tom next to her and Sybbie on her lap, the little girl quietly telling her all about her American adventures. Tom is regaling her with anecdotes of the people he saw on the boat, giving an amusing impression of a well-known politician who happened to be travelling at the same time, when she feels a hand on the base of her neck. She does not have to turn to know who it is, the tenderness with which the fingers of the hand caress her skin (far more of it than is usually on show) makes it clear who is trying to get her attention.

'We should probably leave if we're going to make it to Scarborough by nightfall.'

She turns to give her agreement to his suggestion, which causes his fingers to slip ever so slightly beneath her dress and she stiffens, not out of a wish for him to cease, but more because it is the only way she can quell the fluttering in her breast. She smiles at him, and knows that he understands just what is going through her mind. He is looking at her in that way he had, his pride and devotion shining out of his eyes as if he were telegraphing the news for all the world to see.

Tom, of course, understands all of this little exchanged and is delighted to have witnessed it. He recognises the depth of feeling the two people before him share and understands, perhaps more than most, the electricity of desire that needing to keep some distance between them before this day has now ignited. He offers to drive them to the station, which occasions a silent conversation between the newlyweds and ends with Mr Carson accepting and thanking him most sincerely.

XOX

The journey to the station only takes ten minutes but there is a shift in atmosphere that being almost entirely alone brings. Tom does not attempt conversation, and the Carsons have eyes only for each other. They tuck themselves in one corner of the car and feel perfectly comfortable with the fact they jolt against each other. She holds out a gloved hand, palm up, and looks at him in expectation. He needs no other invitation to place his hand in hers and then her fabric covered fingers are caressing the lines of it. He is winding his arm about her shoulders as she moves to kiss his knuckles and he instinctively clutches her, before extending his fingers to brush over her collarbone. He cannot kiss her properly without her hat getting in the way and it is too complicated to remove it when they so near to the station. Perhaps when they are on the train.

She seems to understand his thoughts, for she kisses his knuckles a second time and leans back against the window to get a better look at him.

'I love you' she says lowly, not letting her gaze waver from his, there is no way he can resist her with his heart bursting the way it is, and he dips his head to place a full kiss to her lips. They arrive at the station all too quickly after that.

XOX

They had remained relatively restrained on the train, although she had removed both her hat and gloves, which encouraged his fleeting touches and a few kisses to her wrists once their carriage companions had alighted at whatever station it had been – Elsie hadn't been paying that much attention.

Now they are in Scarborough, their cases entrusted to the porter at the hotel where lingered only to register, and they are standing on the compact sand as dusk falls about them, one arm wrapped about the other and their free hands clasped so that they are half turned towards each other. They are looking out to sea, watching the sun slowly sink towards the horizon.

'Was it everything you expected?', he asks.

'More, I think. I hadn't fully contemplated the significance of the vows in relation to our history.'

'I heard the way your voice swooped when you got to 'in sickness and in health'. I'll always be …'

She shifts so that she faces him rather than the sea and squeezes his waist. 'I know. As will I.' She looks back towards the sea and them up at him. 'But I'd much rather talk about the other part of our vows.'

'You're demanding all my worldly goods already?' he asks in feigned shock.

Laughing, she quickly pokes him in the ribs. 'You know full well that I am not.' Pausing, she looks up at him fully, not needing to rely on coquetry in this moment. 'You promised to worship me. I've been wondering when you might begin.'

'Ah' he says, relinquishing her hand and moving so that he stands before her, both hands looped about her waist, his fingers clasped firmly in the middle of her back. 'I thought you'd never ask' he replies, his eyes twinkling in the diminishing light.

He leans forward and touches his lips gently to hers, in a caress which tells much of his wonder and gentleness. He moves back almost immediately and gazes down at her.

'I'm not going to break Charles' she whispers.

He does not reply, not verbally. Instead he pulls her firmly against him and dips his head to properly taste her lips. They are quickly lost in the moment and neither notices the sun set. It is dark when they make their way back to the hotel.

XOX

They have been in their room mere minutes and already they are wrapped in each other's arms, lips meshing together in fervent desire. There is no fear, no worry, at what is about to happen, although she stills has a slight niggle of doubt that she will be able to meet his expectations. It is heaven to be in his arms like this, to experience his love in full without the worry of propriety or interruption.

He breaks away from her lips to place hurried kisses to her neck and collarbone, whispering words of love against her skin as he does so.

'Do you have any idea how beautiful looked walking towards me?' he asks lowly as he goes to nibble her ear, a move which surprises her in the way it makes her knees even weaker than they had been before. She doesn't answer. Well, she does, but the moan she utters is not what she had intended to say. It is all she is capable of, however.

'I would have sketched you as you came towards me, if I could have suspended time. I don't think anyone would have taken kindly to a delay of twenty minutes though.'

She laughs slightly at this, clutching at his shoulders which are clad only in his shirt now, because he is still paying close attention to her neck and she is being turned to liquid fire by each caress of his lips. And his tongue – she is quite sure his tongue has just swept along her collarbone.

'Will you ever sketch me again?' she manages to ask, a question which has lingered at the back of her mind for the last two months.

'Maybe' he says 'but only when you least expect it.'

He draws back to look at her, drinks in her flushed appearance and heavy breathing, and caresses her face.

'It's not easy, trying to capture the look in your eyes. The love in your heart, the fire in your belly, the way your soul calls to me.'

He is repeating the words from months ago, and his actions, but this time he really touches her, his hand moving down from her cheek to run the full length of her neck, before coming to rest heavily over her heart. The barrier of her corset prevents him feeling what he really wants, but he can feel the way he is making her chest heave with emotion, and as he trails his hand slowly down her font to lay on her stomach, he sees her eyes darken so they are almost midnight blue with desire.

She rises up on her toes slightly and presses her fingers into the nape of his neck, compelling his lips to return to hers. Her tongue slips out from between her teeth and makes an exploration of his mouth. She has never done that before and he is almost undone by the feeling. His hand clenches in the fine velvet of her coat and he groans deeply as she presses herself against him. There is no denying the evidence their shared desire his inspired in him.

She breaks away and slowly removes her coat, draping it over the chair by their side, before turning her back to him. She looks over her shoulder and nods her head at her buttons. 'Undo them for me?'

XOX

They stand in the lamp light of their room, not quite as soft as that of their offices, but magical none the less, trying to quell their frantic, heaving breaths. Layers of their clothes have been removed – he stands simply in his boxers, whilst she is only slightly more covered by her shift. He has just removed her corset, taking her instruction very seriously, knowing she might faint if he was too quick to undo the laces. She gasps in deep delight as his hand skims her waist, now free from any proper barrier and he can feel the warmth of her skin wherever his fingers choose to fall.

He can feel more than that, because her mouth is placing kisses to the middle of his chest and her fingers trail up and down his spine, causing him to shiver in anticipation of what else is to follow. His hands travel up her body and come to rest on her shoulders. He gently pushes at the straps of her slip, moving them down her arms. They become trapped at the crooks of her elbows, given her arms are still wrapped about his back. The lowered material strains against her breasts, allowing him a tantalising preview of her heaving décolletage. He places a reverent kiss to the flesh he sees, which elicits a deep sigh from his wife.

'Let me see you Elsie' he whispers against her skin, before returning to kiss this new found treasure. He feels her hands pause in their wandering exploration of his back, wonders momentarily if he has pushed her too far, too quickly, and feels the contact break between them as she steps back.

She is very sure to look deep into his eyes as she moves, and silently gains the courage to cross this last precarious barrier from the deep love and desire she finds pouring out from him. Without a word, she pushes the material down her arms and then peels it away from her breasts where it has caught slightly due to her voluptuous assets. The material, having been freed, falls to the floor without further assistance from her and she stands before him in nothing but her knickers.

He doesn't have to say the word for her to know he finds her beautiful. His eyes widen as he takes her in and he reaches out a hand to touch that which has been kept hidden from him for so long. She almost closes her eyes with desire at the feel of his wonderful hands, which she so loves, as they caress her body, but she wants to see, as well as feel, the passion which pours out from him, and they share the most intense moment of connection before he draws her to him and whispers 'Come to bed Mrs Carson.'

XOX

She awakens late into the morning (for her, in truth it is only really about eight o'clock) on the first day of 1926. She has nowhere to be, having been granted the day off, and allows herself to luxuriate in the softness of her bed.

She stretches out her arm, fully expecting to find the bulk of her husband, as naked as she currently is, beside her, but her hand meets only cool sheets.

Something tells her that is not far, still in the room in fact, so she does not allow herself to panic. Instead she indulges in the memory of their activities upon their return home after the celebrations of Lady Edith's wedding and the ringing in of the new year. He had allowed the strain of his illness to permeate their relationship, and had hardly touched her in the last month, but the weight had been lifted by the solution found by Lord Grantham. They had come together with a tumultuous passion which had rivalled nearly all their unions, excepting their first night together.

The memories of their physical expression of love causes her to smile as she lies abed, her hair scattered about the pillow, freed from its usual plait by the passionate demands of her husband the previous night.

'Are you having pleasant thoughts Mrs Carson?'

His voice makes her smile widen and she languidly opens her eyes, although she makes no effort to move from her prone position. There he sits, at the foot of the bed, on the chair of her dressing table, angled so that he might see her face as she woke.

He gazes at her as she lies perfectly still, drinking in the tumbled beauty she presents to him. A naked arm edges out from under the bedclothes and she reaches out to him, requesting his presence beside her without words. He rises, slowly on creaking knees, and moves to her side, towering over her as he gazes down, in awe of the love she is managing to convey to him through those sparkling blue eyes.

She realises that he is holding something by his side, and with a jolt in her heart, she realises it is a sheet of paper. She sits up almost instantly, the bed clothes falling about her middle until she feels the sharp chill on her nipples. She casts him a rueful glance as she covers herself, and tugs at his hand so that he sits on the edge of the bed. She doesn't even need to request an explanation, he gives it freely.

'I've been wondering if it were still possible to draw well since the shaking stated, and when I woke this morning, you looked so peaceful, so happy, and attractive, I thought it a perfect test.'

He hands her the paper, but he looks neither hopeful nor apprehensive at her reaction. He just wants her opinion.

There is no mistaking his style, it is the same as it was, but she can detect a certain lightness to parts of it she is fairly sure would have been more firmly drawn in the past, where he has not quite trusted himself not to run a line. But it is still a stunning work and a testament to how much he loves her. No one else could capture her quite like this and she feels overwhelmingly fortunate to know this secret of his. She has shared it with no one else.

She looks up at him, tears in her eyes which quickly spill over onto her cheeks as she sees his relieved smile. She sets the paper down beside her and reaching out for his hands, covering them with kisses.

'I told you how much I admired your hands and how I trusted them to hold me up and help me through this new and unfamiliar state in which we find ourselves. They might shake a little now, they might shake more in years to come, but I will never relinquish that trust Charles. I love you with my whole heart and nothing on this earth will change that.'

Leaning forward, he places a warm kiss to her forehead, before resting his own against hers and whispering 'Thank you my beautiful Elsie, thank you my love.'

They hold each other for a moment more before their desires can no longer be ignored and their lips and bodies meld together, proving the love which is evident to all, but which only they truly know the depth of.

A/N: This is truly the end of this little story. My inspiration for the way Elsie looks as she wakes is an early piece of Phyllis Logan's work, pictures have been posted on my tumblr. Thank you all for your lovely words in reviewing, one or two more would set me up forever. Also, if anyone who like to draw felt like having a crack at either of the two sketches described here …. Well, you'd make me feel very special and it'd be a lovely little extra to this special story.