Sorry about the huge time jump here. Fellowes made me do it. I will go back and fill in the past in the next part of this story arc which will be 'St. George's Day'.

Downton Abbey 1902

In his dream he could hear her quiet words, "Charles, my love, I will be thinking of you often." Her small head was snugged tightly against his shoulder and her soft breaths brushed the hair on his chest. Then, with a start, Charles woke in a cold sweat and with tears stinging his eyes. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and crossed the room in a single stride to splash tepid water on his face. With a shaking hand, he took a long drink of equally tepid water to wash down the lump in his throat. Sinking down in his armchair, he tried to gather his thoughts. He hated this dream if for no other reason than he had to wake to a life without her. The decision to not take her with him when he left Holbrook House twelve years ago still haunted him. What earthly good had he thought waiting six months would do? If he had stopped the carriage as they pulled away and scooped her up as he'd wanted, his life would be so very different now. As it was, he wasn't completely miserable, but he was close. His life was not that terrible most of the time, as long as he could avoid thinking of her. It was just that when he did think of her, he knew how much better, fuller, and brighter his life would have been. Perhaps there would have been children, but more importantly there would have been her. She would have been there to share all his successes and failures. They might have stayed on at Downton, but in his dreams he usually saw them running a small shop, closing up at the end of the day to make their way to their rooms above. A smile ghosted over his lips as he thought that at least some of the time they would likely not make it up to their rooms before he teased her out of her clothes. The smile faded when he felt the familiar tightening in his groin. That was not something he felt like dealing with right now.

He determinedly pushed his thoughts down other paths and rose to dress. No use in trying to sleep now. He might as well get a start on the day. It would be a busy one. Mrs. Dunmore had finally hired a new head housemaid. Perhaps this one would be a little less flighty and more prone to keep her hands to herself. The previous girl had been slow to take the hints that he was completely uninterested, and he had finally had to discuss the situation with Mrs. Dunmore which was highly embarrassing. With a sigh, he wondered if he should have taken her up on her obvious offers. In his heart, though, he knew there would never be another woman for him but Elsie Hughes. He had been as chaste as a monk these twelve years.

Standing before the mirror half-dressed, he studied his face and figure carefully. He was a couple of stones heavier than he had been when he met her. Sucking in his stomach, he thought perhaps he should skip pudding tonight, but then he thought Mrs. Patmore might make apple tart so perhaps he would just skip it tomorrow night. His eyes lifted to examine his frowning face. He had carefully cultivated the image of the stern butler over the years. It was important to him to be respected. There was honor in working in a fine house like this one, and he made every effort to project the dignity that his position required. That he was stern and avoided any personal connections with the other staff could be excused by that dignity, not that he was afraid of anyone else wounding him the way that she had. He shook his head at his reflection. There had been anger at first, after the hurt. Now, he felt nothing but a vague sense of loss, most of the time except for when he had The Dream.

As he drew the razor down his soapy cheek and then lifted his chin to clear the stubble from his neck, he could almost feel a pair of soft lips soothing the irritated skin there. His hand jumped enough that he nicked his skin. With a sharp, muttered curse, he dropped his razor and dabbed at the cut with a towel. He grimaced at his own clumsiness. Now he'd have to wait for the bleeding to be completely stopped. Unfortunately, waiting gave him even more time to think and remember. He could remember every moment of their night together, and not just the lovemaking; he could recall every moment of those four days, at least every moment he spent with her. Most of the anger he had now was directed at the silly boy he'd been, so determined not to hurt her and then being hurt so badly by her. She had seemed like such an innocent and sincere in her love for him. He had believed her completely, fool that he'd been. If only he'd followed his first instinct and avoided her altogether or bedded her as quickly as possible all of this heartache could have been avoided. But then if he had done that he would have no memories or fantasies to sustain him through long, cold winter nights.

He made it through the morning hours somewhat automatically, distracted by his thoughts of her. There were no guests and the Earl and his wife were easy enough to tend to, even if she did occasionally join him for breakfast. Charles still thought Americans were odd, but even he had to admit that his Lordship had made an excellent choice. He also knew from personal experience that the money woes of Downton were a thing of the past.

Charles retreated to his pantry following breakfast with the excuse of wanting to polish some of the finer pieces himself. He was certain that the monotonous task of polishing silver would help to take his mind off of his past. Working the cloth slowly over and around the pattern, he was so engrossed in his thoughts that he jumped at the knock on his door. Mentally he cursed himself for not remembering that the new housemaid was to come today. That would no doubt be Mrs. Dunmore wishing to introduce her, and it would have been much more appropriate to greet her in his livery as opposed to wearing an apron with silver polish on his hands.

Fixing his sternest frown on his face, he turned to greet the new addition to the household and met a familiar pair of blue eyes. All of his training couldn't stop his shocked reaction, "Elsie!"

Mrs. Dunmore looked sharply at him and then at the new head housemaid who had an equally surprised expression on her face, "Mr. Carson, do you already know our new head housemaid? Although I had understood your name was Bess, dear." This last comment was directed at the speechless Scotch lass.

Charles regained his composure first, "We did meet once, briefly, many years ago, Mrs. Dunmore. At Holbrook House, I believe it was, Miss Hughes?"

To her credit, her voice was quite steady when she answered, "Indeed it was, Mr. Carson, a very long time ago, a lifetime in fact. I would never have thought you would still be at Downton, and as butler. You were a valet when we last met."

"Where else would I be but at Downton?" he asked and added to himself, Certainly not running a shop with my beautiful Scottish lass, and then he continued out loud, "Time brings many changes, Miss Hughes."

"It does that, Mr. Carson," she said, meeting his gaze steadily.

Mrs. Dunmore took in this exchange quietly, and Charles was almost certain there would be questions raised when they had their end of day meeting. He was not looking forward to having to lie about his previous relationship with Elsie to her.

"We'll be getting on, then, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Dunmore said briskly, "I just wanted her to meet you. No doubt you'll see very little of each other, but she needs to know who's who." She turned on her heel and shooed Elsie out his door.

They were gone so quickly that Charles could almost believe he'd imagined the whole exchange, but when he crossed to close the door with a shaking hand, he caught a whiff of lavender and lemon that twelve years had not erased from his memory. He shut the door and then registered something sharp cutting into his hand. Looking down he saw that he'd gripped the serving spoon that he'd been holding so tightly that the handle was bent into the shape of his fist.

His mind was filled with questions that might never get answered. What on earth had possessed her to come to Downton of all places? Had she known he would be here? And most importantly, where had she been these twelve years?

One thing was certain; it seemed that he was going to begin another journey that he wanted desperately to avoid.

The End (to be continued soon in St. George's Day)

Reviews are welcome. I am glad that an ocean separates me from kouw or else I'd worry for my safety. If you are worried about how this will end, please see my profile page.