Chapter Text
Chapter Twenty – Six: Sweet Awakenings
His hands on her face felt warm and soft. Isobel stumbled a bit while walking through the clearing, Richard's hands on her eyes as a blindfold. A giggle escaped her as she braced herself on his arms to prevent herself from falling. He stopped abruptly to check if she was alright, when she assured him she was, he let out a relieved sigh. "We are almost there don't worry."
Her response made his heart sing. "I'm not worried, I trust you, Richard."
"I'm glad of it," he replied, his voice thick with barely hidden emotion.
They walked for another few meters, before he leaned in and whispered in her ear, making her shiver deliciously, "Are you ready?"
"I am."
He lifted his hands from her eyes, holding her at the waist. Isobel's eyes squinted at the sunlight. A small gasp betrayed her surprise as her lips curved in a pretty O, which she quickly covered with her left hand. Her right one flew to grip one of his arms tightly. "Did you arrange this for me, Richard?"
He chuckled "And who do you think I arranged this for, the fairies?"
"It's beautiful," she murmured, moved by what stood before her. He nodded wordlessly, his hand trialing down her lower back to gently guide her to the spot where he had prepared a picnic for them.
Isobel was left quite speechless at Richard's thoughtful gesture and followed him with her mouth slightly open. She thought she must look pretty dumb, since Richard was trying to stifle a grin at her wonderstruck expression.
Once they reached the quilt he laid down, the doctor gestured for her to sit and make herself comfortable. "Richard," she began as soon as she was settled, "I don't even know how to begin to thank you for-"
He held up a hand to stop her but she continued "For everything you have done, really, today has been quite lovely and now…"
"Isobel…"
"You have prepared all this, for me…"
"Isobel I see no reason to-"
"You left me without words, honestly, I don't recall the last time someone set up such a lovely-"
"Isobel, my dear, will you please stop talking for once?"
Mrs Crawley looked at him as though his whiskers had turned green. Then she lowered her eyes, her cheeks flaming red under his gentle and patient gaze. What had she done to deserve a man like him? "Of course," she mumbled. "I'm sorry."
He chuckled good-naturedly. "Isobel, please, don't apologise. I just meant to say there is no need for you to thank me. I did this because I wanted to, because it made me happy as I hope it makes you happy."
"It does, Richard. You make me happy."
He smiled at her like a child at Christmas. "I did this because I care for you," he said, nearing her on the quilt and taking her hand in his. "You entered my life and changed it completely. I don't know what I would do without you."
Isobel sniffed, her eyes glistening. "It is I," she began, her voice thick with emotion, "who wouldn't know what to do without you, Richard. You've been my greatest friend in these months, since Matthew…" she faltered. He squeezed her hand and encouraged her to continue.
"Since Matthew died," she let out with a shocking breath. It was the first time she acknowledged the fact aloud since George's birth and her poor boy's death.
"You supported me patiently, helped me find the little strength I still had in me." She leaned closer, her tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "You helped me fight against the weaker side of myself. You showed me things worth living for, you taught me to have faith in the future. You're my hope, Richard Clarkson, and for this I thank you immensely."
He cupped her face in his hands, his light blue eyes boring into her shining dark brown ones, his heart swelling with pride at the words of that brave, strong woman who was giving her heart to him.
He enveloped her in a tight hug, her cheek pressing on his shoulder, her soft hair grazing the side of his neck, not caring one bit if her tears wet the starched whiteness of his shirt. Right now, right there, he was where he was always meant to be: right by her side.
. . .
Elsie woke up with the scullery maids that morning. She couldn't stay in bed, hadn't slept a wink if that mattered. Her heart beat too fast, the butterflies in her stomach fluttered restlessly. She felt like a fifteen year old dealing with her first crush.
When she finally got down, Beryl was already in the kitchen, helping Daisy with some complicated dish they needed to prepare for lunch. "Well, look who's already up and about!"
"Good morning, Mrs Patmore."
"You don't look particularly cheerful today, has something happened?" said the cook, nearing her to whisper conspiratorially.
Elsie shook her head, amazed at her ability to hide her excitement. "Oh no, nothing bad happened."
"Oh well, better for you two, then! Come on, give me all the details…" quipped Beryl while Elsie sat at the kitchen table and busied herself with the linen rota.
"Honestly, Mrs Patmore, I don't think it's proper to-" she started, not sure the kitchen was a proper setting for such inquiry.
"You stayed out until the wee hours of the morning, didn't you, missy?" came the gentle teasing of Beryl.
Elsie didn't pay much attention to what the cook was saying, preferring to keep herself to her business. "Ignoring me, are you?" quipped her friend.
"Very much so," replied Elsie.
"Then I guess old Charlie has made a move!"
Elsie turned to face Mrs Patmore, her mouth agape for a moment. "What old Charlie does is none of your business!" she hissed, slightly annoyed.
"I hope you are not referring to me by talking of old Charlie, Mrs Patmore" came the booming voice of Mr Carson.
Beryl straightened up quickly, as if he had caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, good morning to you too, Mr Carson. I didn't see you standing there."
"I'm most certain you didn't, Mrs Patmore," reprimanded Carson, although his half smile betrayed his good mood. "Can I have a word with you, Mrs Hughes? It's about the guests that are coming today."
"Of course," replied Elsie, standing up and gathering her things. "Why don't you join me in my parlour?"
He followed her under the knowing gaze of the cook, who was perfectly aware that something was going on between those two.
"So, what do you want to tell me?" said Elsie as soon as he closed the door after them.
"Oh, actually, everything is in order for today. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you. And it seemed that Mrs Patmore was giving you quite the hard time."
Elsie chuckled. "Well, she was just curious. I mean, can we really blame the poor woman for wanting some gossip? It's not as if something exciting happens here every day."
"Exciting, huh?" Charles smiled widely.
Elsie blushed a little and bit her lip in embarrassment. She still couldn't believe what was happening between them, it felt all so new and yes, exciting. And she felt so… inexperienced. Like she had missed out on a great part of her life. But after all, that was a part of serving, renouncing even to the most important steps in one's life. "Yes. It all feels a little strange," she admitted, shuffling her feet.
He neared her carefully. "What do you mean?" he asked, in a low voice. "Are you regretting what happened last night?"
She took his hand in hers to reassure him. "Not in the slightest. I merely meant that this… thing between us will take some getting used to."
"I know it will, but I'm sure we will be able to make it. Together."
"Yes, we will," she replied, circling her thumb on his hand.
He felt emboldened by her gentle touch. "And while we are at it, why not start now," he whispered, before catching her lips in a soft kiss.
She reached behind him and rested her hand on the nape of his neck, bringing him closer. He smelled of soap and cologne and his big hands on her waist made her feel cherished and protected. Never in her life would she have imagined having a man like Charles Carson by her side. She was totally besotted by the way he looked and smiled at her, by the way his lips felt on hers, by how her body molded into his.
When they broke the kiss, she brought her hands to his face, gently caressing his face before chastely kissing him once again. "I should go, heaven knows what would Beryl say if she discovered what we were up to."
She made to open the door but Charles pulled her to him once again. She collided with his body, her hands on his wide chest to keep her balance. "Let her talk, then," he mumbled, before dipping his head to kiss her deeply once again.
'Yes', thought Elsie, 'let her talk.'