Characters aren't mine, no copyright infringement intended, etc.

(Here's the final segment of this story - in four parts. Thanks to everyone reading and for all your reviews and encouragement!)

Charles closed the back door behind him and made sure the latch was properly in place, before joining the woman standing a few feet away. Elsie took his arm, and they walked over the gravel together. She looked younger in the dim glow of the moon, but in the last few months a fog around her had also lifted. Telling Thomas the truth had made her different - more open, somehow. The younger man had struggled to come to terms with her revelation, and gone quiet for weeks. But in the last week or two he had finally agreed to hear more of her story. Miss O'Brien had made a few spiteful remarks, but Elsie had shot back each time with her own withering put-down.

When it got difficult, there were always the evenings with Charles. The small glasses of port in her sitting room and the sharing of grievances. He would nod, and murmur, and sometimes offer his advice. When it finally got late, they would stand and kiss each other goodnight. He would pull her close, savoring her, and she would relish every second. Then they would pull apart, with some difficulty, and go their separate ways. They had decided it wasn't right to let their courtship become a distraction for the household by letting it go any further. At least not yet. Now, things were settling, enough that Charles could ask her to join him again for an evening walk.

They moved slowly, meditating, the only sound coming from the crunching gravel beneath their feet. Charles spoke up when they got to a juncture in the path.

"Do you remember this place?"

Elsie nodded. "How can I not? This is where you first told me you couldn't live without me." She squeezed his arm, and he brought up her hand. He closed his eyes and kissed it for a long time. They stopped walking.

"You must know what I'm going to say."

Elsie tilted her head. "Must I?" She looked down at her hands. "Well, I suppose I have some idea."

"Believe it or not, it's something I've wanted to ask you for many years. It's taken me this long because, well, I've been a fool, really."

"Oh come now, Charles," she admonished. "I've been just as bad. Let's leave it at that." She took a breath. "So. You wanted to ask me something. Is it about replacing items from the ironstone tea service?" She gave him a small smile.

He took her other hand and held it in front of him, so they were facing each other. "No, that's not what I was going to ask." He ignored the loud hammering of his heart. "Elsie, will you be my wife?"

Her eyes softened and she took his hands to kiss them.

"Yes."

###

It was a beautiful wedding day. The normally grey skies of York opened to glorious sun as Charles and Elsie stepped out of the church. A first wedding for two people older than many of their own wedding guests. But that didn't matter. They stared at one another as they exchanged vows, and it was hard for the guests not to notice two people who were deeply in love. Their kiss at the end was short and light, but the look that passed between them said otherwise.

They passed the Grantham family, the servants, and Thomas as they walked down the aisle, towards the light of the afternoon sun. Thomas nodded as they went past. He looked relaxed, at the start of his own journey. They passed through the doorway into the bright glare of sunlight, shielding their eyes as they hit a wall of fresh air. Elsie looked up at Charles before they walked down the steps.

"I can hardly believe this is happening," she said.

"It is," he replied, beaming. "I'm so very glad."

###

Firelight cast a warm pall over the sitting room. The new cottage. A packed suitcase in the corner. They would stay here for most of the weekend. The household was still tense after the fire and it would be a few months before they could go away for a longer honeymoon. This would do for now. The wedding had been a happy occasion. A garden party at the house, a dance for the servants. The Granthams had been gracious in making it a celebration for the staff too.

They'd got to the cottage at dusk, still buzzing from the day's activities. It would be their first full weekend off in years. After a light supper, Charles stoked a fire and Elsie sat in a high-backed chair to read a book.

As it got later, Charles found himself poking the fire a little more than necessary, and Elsie reading the same paragraph several times over. A tension was rising between them.

Charles coughed. "It's getting late. We might want to think about, uh…" he cleared his throat, "… going to bed."

"Oh. Yes." Elsie's face flushed, and she shut her book. "Good idea."

They stood up simultaneously and almost bumped into one another.

"Sorry," Charles stammered.

Elsie flashed a nervous smile. "I'll… well, I'll get changed."

"Yes. Good," his voice boomed. "How about you go…"

"First. Yes, I can go first, and then-"

"Then I'll go."

"Right."

She slipped into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, closing her eyes and letting out a long breath. She stared at the double bed. There was only one in the cottage. They were married, now. And so…

Elsie unshackled her dress and corset and slipped into her nightgown, pulling a robe around her. She took the pins out of her dark hair and let it hang loose. She looked at herself in the mirror, then took another breath and crept out of the room.

Charles was sitting by the fire, tapping his foot and trying to read the book she'd put down. He jerked his head up when she entered and stared, feeling a pulse of desire. He nodded and walked past her into the bedroom. Elsie's eyes followed him. A few minutes later, he emerged in his robe and pyjamas.

"I just remembered I've got a bottle of claret in the cupboard. Would you-"

"Yes!"

He got out the glasses and they sat by the fire again, in their robes, nursing the smooth, red wine. Side by side on the small sofa, they talked about the wedding, the guests, Thomas, the work that still had to be done on the house.

At a pause in the conversation he took her hand and she felt a heat rising in her again. He kissed it, gently. Then he moved in to kiss her lips. She closed her eyes and surrendered to him, leaning back and humming softly with pleasure. His mouth left her lips and kissed her jawline, then her neck and collarbone, exploring places he had only ever been to in his dreams before tonight.

Then he stopped, and looked at her. She opened her eyes and understood.

They got up together from the couch and walked hand in hand to the bedroom. She untied her robe and he got behind her to pull it off, then kissed her shoulder. He grasped her waist and slid his hands down to her hips, before nipping her ear. She turned and moved her hands under his robe to push it onto the floor.

They fell onto the bed, and his hand explored her body more thoroughly. As Charles planted kisses across her chest, his hand wandered over her thigh, getting higher and higher, and then holding back, circling the region at the top that was the key to unlocking everything. Elsie bit her lip in desperate anticipation as his hand orbited the area, desire almost bursting out of every nerve ending.

She pulled his head to her and kissed him, pulled at his night shirt. Soon everything was off, and he looked at her, checking, concerned. She kissed him again and opened her legs to him. And then he was inside her, slow at first, causing her to wince, before she found she could bear his gentle thrusts and relax into soft moans. They soon became solid, regular movements, the sheet covering his lower half moving up and down with him, his large back heaving over her as he went.

She clasped at his arms, then his back, making light scratches, arching her neck, and as the rhythm increased her moans turned to cries. They were echoed by his own, deep-throated noises.

And then a white explosion of the senses and a louder cry that came from somewhere outside them, until Elsie realized it was from her own lips. They kissed, and he was lying next to her, breathing heavily.

Charles opened his eyes and pushed a strand of hair out of her face, glowing with sweat.

"Are you alright?" he rumbled.

She nodded. "Yes." Then she sighed, and turned to him. "Only…"

"What?"

"Only I wish we'd done this a long time ago."

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, deeply.

Later on she told him that when they finally went away for the honeymoon, she wanted him to take her home.

###

A vast slope of red and straw-colored grass stretched for miles ahead, flanked by bare trees and clouds that wanted to touch the glassy loch before them. They had travelled by train to Argyll, then the peninsula of Cowel, a place so pure in its natural beauty the heart ached to look at it. Great mountains towered over loch Eck. The scene was large but disarmingly still.

Charles and Elsie had taken a detour off the road to climb this hill, and when they finally caught their breath at the summit he had put his arm around her and they stood, hair tousled by the wind, mesmerised by the rugged landscape.

Elsie squinted into the biting wind, tears forming at the corner of her eyes in the cold. It was a harsh land, but breathtaking when seen in its entirety. She held her husband closer to her for warmth, uttering silent thanks for him as she so often did now.

Charles looked down at her and smiled. "Shall we go on?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He held out his arm. Elsie placed her hand through it and they carried on over the slope, facing the mountains and the sky.

THE END