So this is it. The last chapter of Sinning by Silence. I want to thank you all for reading, alerting and commenting on this puppy. I had great fun writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it. I also need to hug my favourite beta in the world for doing a fantastic job. Every mistake you may find in here is due to my account, not hers.

I'll admit that I'm not completely done with this, because Beth MacGregor has started talking to me, because she wants her story to be told. There's a lot to discover about her and our favourite butler. So maybe I'll get back to this sooner or later.

In the meantime enjoy yourselves and have a good life!

Chapter 8

To love a sinner

Elsie managed to be in the servants' hall, before Mr Carson arrived there. She sneaked into his pantry and waited for him, her heart racing in her chest, without any idea how to tell him what she ached for him to know. She had tried to restore her worn out appearance with cold water and another dress, but everybody, who saw her, could tell she had spent a restless, sleepless night. She had made a girlish, silly attempt to look good for him and she wasn't at all sure she had succeeded in her effort. She had never been a vain person. She was a sensible, grounded woman, but knowing that he really loved her she craved to be a woman he could desire, not just love.

She checked the clock on the wall. He was a little late this morning and she feared her plan could fail, if the usual routine of their day was disturbed. Then she heard his steps, heavy and a little faster than usual. He came in and went straight to his desk, without looking around, because he was fixing his cuff link. The poor man... Did he ever appear before looking perfect, she wondered.

Carson startled, when the door shut behind him, and turned around. He didn't know what to say when he realized that Elsie had been hiding behind the door. He just held the damn cuff link in his hand. His valet had tried to fix it, but Carson had been so nervous that the young chap could do nothing right and had been sent away.

He hadn't slept a wink, had been haunted by horrible visions of her laughing about him while she was reading his letters, and now she stood in his room and stared at him, as if she had seen a ghost. What was she doing in here? Hiding behind his door? He was bewildered, couldn't think straight. God, he felt as if he was spending his time in a living hell.

"Mrs Hughes..."

"Can I help you?" she asked, stepping forward. He said nothing and she didn't wait for an answer or his permission. She just took his arm and the cuff link and helped him to dress for the day. It wasn't exactly proper for a housekeeper to dress the butler, but she had crossed so many unspoken lines over the years that she didn't care any more.

He watched her, rather speechless, and realized she hadn't been that close to him in months. Last night she had been shaking and nervous, but this morning she was calm. Her hands performed their task with incredible accuracy and he wished he knew whether this was a good sign.

"There you are," she said with a satisfied look on her face and released his arm. "Now you can face the day."

"I'm not so sure about that," he said and it was a confession he hadn't meant to make, but the words had just slipped his mouth.

"There's nothing to worry about, Mr Carson," she said, as if she had read his mind and rose to the balls of her feet. Her mouth placed a soft kiss on his cheek, but she didn't withdraw as quickly as she had planned. She leaned against him, gently caressing his face with the tip of her nose and inhaling his scent. She had never been the one to express her feelings with tender gestures. Even when she had given herself to Mr Lane he was usually the one who touched her with tender caresses while she was the one who longed for pure physical release.

He was surprised, even shocked by her move, but the longer he found her soft, and, compared to him, tiny body leaning against his, he felt a slow wave of relief and gratefulness rolling over him. His hand ran over the small of her back, stroking her.

"I'll see you later...?" he asked huskily and her reply was a soft nod. "Tonight?" he asked, and their eyes met as he looked down. She nodded again. It was a date.

Elsie sat at her desk and tried to write a letter to her sister. Or to name it, she pretended to write a letter, in case someone other than Mr Carson was coming in. She had done her best to avoid people for most of the day. Unusual for a social person like her, she had sought solitude and quiet, because she needed to understand everything that had happened to her lately. As beautiful and rewarding as it had been to know she was loved by the man she loved, she now felt terrified by the thought of it. Things were changing for both of them and she didn't know if she could handle it. She could handle her affair with Mr Lane. Lust, she had learnt, was easy to control, but love? A feeling so destructive and painful that it had almost driven her away wasn't so easy to live with.

C&EC&EC&EC&EC&EC&EC&EC&E

The clock at her wall stroke 11 o'clock and simultaneously he knocked at her door. He must have finished his round through the house. She smiled and when he entered she felt how her hand was gripping the armrest of her chair. She was nervous, so tensed at the sight of him that she wondered how she had survived the last 20 years in his presence. Ignorance was bliss. So much was true.

"Did you lock the house?" she asked, because she couldn't think of anything more intelligent to ask.

"Yes, I did."

He stood in the middle of her sitting room and it looked as if he couldn't decide what to do. This tall, wonderful man just didn't know how to behave around the woman he had confessed his love to.

So she rose, not sure, if her legs would actually carry her, and closed the distance between them. Mr Lane had once called her a brave Scot and maybe it was time she proved him right.

Elsie reached out to touch his cheek and caressed him tenderly. "We've given each other a rather bad time, haven't we?" she mused lowly. "I'm so sorry...," she started, but he shook his head, took her hand into his and kissed the palm of her hand.

"Don't."

She closed her eyes, surprised by the emotions that started dwelling in her. He was closer now, she felt the heat that radiated from his body and then he touched her face.

"I want more," Carson said lowly as his thumb caressed her chin.

"What do you mean?" she asked, as she trembled underneath his tender touch.

"I want more than he got..." She blushed when his hands closed around her waist and he pulled her closer. "I'll never be satisfied with some stolen moments in the wine cellar or the garage," he said and now his voice was darkened by desire. "I want you all for myself. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," she whispered, as he pulled her close to him. For a moment his lips rested on her forehead and she closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of his lips against her skin.

"If we do this...," he continued. "If we do this, then you're mine. You'll be my wife and wear my ring. We owe that to each other."

"I agree," she mumbled helplessly. His lips caressed her face, moving slowly down her cheeks, over her nose and then to her mouth.

"I love you," he said lowly.

"I love you, too...," she returned and leaned against him, her forehead resting against his chin. She had been waiting for this moment for 20 years and now she realized, it had been worth every second of it. Every word, every gesture they had exchanged had led them to this point in their lives.

"Did you love him?" he asked and added quickly. "I need to know... I need... I want to understand."

Maybe it was only fair, after she knew almost everything (she could really do without details) about him and Beth, she could tell him about Mr Lane.

"No," she admitted with a whisper. "Never. It was always you... and sometimes it felt that being close to him meant being close to you. I've desired him, I'll admit that, but it wasn't love."

She withdrew a bit so that she could look into his eyes. There was still a certain sadness in them, but there was also tenderness, love, and forgiveness.

"Come with me," he said and pulled her with him to her armchair. He settled down with her on his lap and held her close to him. For a long moment neither of them spoke and she was grateful for it, because this comfortable, loving silence was healing her wounded heart. All the years she had spent in some kind of weary, yet hopeful state had just come to an end. She had her man and she knew once he had made the decision to be with her, he wouldn't turn away from it. When he loved and admitted love, it was final. A sacred pact, a vow, he would never break.

But she knew there were a lot of things they had to talk about, so many things that needed to be said. And indeed after some time, he cleared his throat, kissed her temple, and slowly started to talk about the one thing that still caused his chest to tighten when he thought about it.

"Last year when you thought you were ill..."

"Yes?"

"You told him, but not me... you ran to him, but you refused to talk to me..."

She held her breath and a little afraid to see the pain displayed on his face, she just snuggled closer against him, hoping the physical contact could assure him of her love.

"How do you know that?"

"He told me the day I had this... heart attack."

"I was scared," she admitted. "I was scared of falling ill... of dying..., but I was even more scared of the idea that I could be ill in your eyes. I wanted you to see me as a woman, a real woman, not just as an invalid that was fading away. I wanted to be desired by you, not pitied."

"But still you told him," he repeated.

"I didn't want to tell him, but he noticed something was wrong with me and at some point I couldn't deny it any more. So I just told him."

They were walking on thin ice. She was aware of that and she desperately hoped, he would be satisfied with her answer. She didn't want to tell him the whole story of her breaking down in Mr Lane's arms while they had made love. It would only hurt him to know details and she had already bruised his heart more than enough.

"I wish you had told me. I wanted to be there for you, but you cocooned yourself."

"You see, you're not the only one who has troubles letting people in," she said and cupped his face in her hands. "It's who we are," she added with a loving smile.

"And who are we, Mrs Hughes?" he asked.

She shrugged, "Sinners, I'm afraid. Can you love a sinner, Mr Carson?"

They had sinned for so many years by denying their love or living it with the wrong people. They had sinned with their silence and now was the time to make it right.

He didn't need to answer her question. The answer was evident from the way he looked at her. He would always love her no matter what. No Mr Lane and no Beth MacGregor could change that.

Perhaps they were sinners, perhaps he couldn't marry her right away, perhaps the world would fall victim to another heartless, cruel war. Perhaps, perhaps...

Carson pulled her close and kissed her the way he had wanted to kiss her when she had first arrived at Donwton. She responded hungrily and they kissed until they were breathless, and her lips were swollen, and his collar felt too narrow.

"Can I love a sinner?" he mused, once they broke apart. "Heaven knows I do. I always will."

~The End~