AN: This story has a different layout than you might expect. Each chapter is comprised of three parts, two are in the present moment, on the cruise and later when they return home, the third (which will be in italics) is Robert or Cora remembering a moment in their past. The result is that two stories run parallel to each other. I hope you all enjoy it.
The only other note is that Sybil is six years younger than Edith rather then just the four in canon.
This is my first try of a modern story so I really hope you all enjoy it. Please REVIEW and leave your thoughts!
The room was as beautiful as the ship and the harbour in which it sat. She'd forgotten what it was like to walk down a pier and find the white lady waiting, the paintwork polished and her British flag flying. She'd let the memory drift because she hadn't cruised for some years. They'd been on family holidays, almost every year, but cruising was a thing of the past, from the years before Mary had been born. That had been twenty-one years ago.
The view from the balcony of their suite, which looked at this moment straight out to the endless Caribbean sea beyond, was better than she could have hoped. The sun was blaring, the heat marginally uncomfortable, but nothing she couldn't cope with, Robert would no doubt be another story. Interrrupting her thoughts is the sound of the door clicking open behind her and she turns away from the faceted sea to spy him slipping in, his hair still tousled from the flight and his summer shirt and trousers a sight she'd missed. He looked very fine in a shirt and tie, but well, she enjoyed him relaxed.
"I've got the safe key." He flicks the item into the air, deftly catching it, it seems she could never quite get away from cricket.
"I've left my jewellery on the bed." He ambles quickly to the bed and then proceeds to set the code upon the safe, emptying her purse of tickets and passports in the process. She'd emptied her own case and Robert's that had appeared at their door (the ship staff take the labelled luggage from the airport and crane it up onto the ship before delivering it to the correct cabin) and was planning a swim that afternoon. If only the last case would arrive.
She falls onto the settee as Robert, after a series of bleeps, announces that he has indeed got the safe sorted. She however, was suddenly preoccupied: little Sybil's missing case causing her brow to crumple.
"I'm surprised Sybil's case hasn't arrived, and we know it got to the airport here, we labelled it up. Do you think I should go and ask someone?"
"Cora," a boyish grin comes over his face, one she hadn't seen in some months. "Sybil's case is never going to appear, not at our cabin door anyway." She suddenly looks around, assessing the sofa she was sat on that she had assumed folded out into a bed. She slips off the soft fabric and manoeuvres herself passed the two plush plum chairs and table, that she had a feeling would have to moved if only to makes sure neither she nor Robert tripped over.
The bedroom was just as she remembered it, the plum colour from the living room on one wall, the head rest of the bed in a lilac shade and the odd abstract art pieces above the bed and on the wall behind her, the ensuite leading off to her right. But sure enough, there was definitely no bed beside the Kings sized bed she stood at the foot of. It had seemed very inviting before, the pillows a pearl white the duvet matching with the plum throw over it, it now seemed even more spacious and beckoning. The chuckle against her neck makes her jump a little, a blush quickly rising from the mix of her previous thoughts and his gentle breath.
"I persuaded Mary and Edith to share with her, so that you and I could have a room to ourselves. It was part of my surprise." The whole holiday had been a surprise, it turned out Robert was better at keeping secrets than she had once thought. Although, that worried her too, there was a new secretary of his that they had fallen out over and Cora worried if he could keep this holiday from her he could cover up some affair as well. It was ironic she realised that she had once been that secretary, the one everyone was watching, waiting for the first signs of Robert wooing her over. There hadn't been a wife then though, or three children.
She pushes the thoughts aside, or rather they are forced aside as Robert's hand slides to her hip, his lips tilted to her skin already. It had always been like this, he'd always been able to make her feel things she didn't think she could. He twirls her in his arms, his hands wrestling her summer dress over her head.
Her back sinks into the soft linen...
Her hands release the buttons...
She shivers as he fingers trail the inside of her thigh, his thumb pressing firmly through her silk panties...
His lips force her mouth open, his tongue searching fearlessly inside...
His touch was gentle, soft upon her breast but her mouth still falls from his, a gasp filling the sticky air...
His hands pull her damp panties away, his fingers finding the folds with a precision she'd forgotten, it had been too long...
It didn't take much, her back felt the waft of air over it as it rises from the linen, her cry fills the room, his swollen lips muffle it a second later...
His hair is soft, she weaves it over her fingers, her body sandwiching itself between him and the mattress...
Her leg finds his hip, slipping seamlessly around him, one hand dips lower, trying to find him-
"Robert...you should...I mean..." She finds his gaze knowing her cheeks are not just pink from exertion. "A condom?" He kisses her cheek gently, rolling carefully off of her.
"Of course, where did you put them?"
"Well, I...wait..." She feels a girlish stupidity overcome her, memories she'd tried to keep buried resurfacing: inky night, her own tears, the horrid man's uncaring expression. "I mean I thought Sybil was sharing with us so...did you?"
"No, I, sorry. You usually-" She can't help but find his embarrassment funny, she shuffles back to him.
"It doesn't matter. It's only once, we're old enough to take some chances. You can get some later, the shop on the ship will have some." Her lips find the crook of his neck and his murmur of her name spurs her on.
Her leg curls back to where it was his arousal presses firmly against her own, his hand clasping her knee against his thigh...
He rolls her slowly, until she locks her foot against his back...
His lips dip deliciously into her collarbone, her head rocking back, her nails scratching his shoulders...
She arches her back, feeling him press once more against the place she wanted him most...
She reaches her hand between them, the stickiness of his skin coating her finger as she pushes lower, shifting her weight, coaxing him...
He shifts her legs apart with his knee, his hand teasing at the folds she'd desperately been pressing against him...
His hands are quickly replaced by the more taunt sensation of his arousal...
Her eyes fly open, the sapphire blue of his own, so like the ocean just beyond their window, meeting hers...
She smiles at his sweaty forehead, tousled hair and swollen lips, she'd done that to him...
She feels her lids slam shut again as he pushes too slowly inside her, forcing out her moans...
She hammers her hips against his own, her body aching for the release that only he has ever given her...
He pushes her hips into the bed, adjusting his body over her, finding places she couldn't remember the last time he reached...
He comes first, the guttural groan against her neck...
The pinching of her skin between his teeth...
His hand massages gruffly at the underside of her breast...
It's the spread of him inside of her, the blending of their bodies that makes her bury her face in his shoulder, her own mouth closing over his skin...
She keeps her body pressed closely around him as her breathing slows. His lips grace her cheek shortly afterwards as she slowly disentangles himself from her form.
"Cora?"
"Yes darling."
"Something was bothering you, before I came and startled you. You were just staring at the bed. Are you alright?"
"Perfectly fine." She knew what he was referring to, it had been when she'd been thinking of his new secretary, Jane.
"I don't think you were. Your hands were knotted together." He was making it so difficult for her to not admit her thoughts, one hand was curling over her stomach, the other sweeping in her hair.
"I was thinking of Jane, you and-"
"Cora, she's gone. She's Bates' assistant now. I love you. Always you."
"But I'm not-"
"If you dare say 'young' after what you and I just did after a nine hour flight I might have to remind you again how good you were." She knows she blushes, the heat in her cheeks burning as much as her lower abdomen was a few moments before.
"Cora, I know I can never make the insecurities that man embedded in you totally go away. But, I dearly hope after twenty-five years of marriage and having known me for twenty-eight years you might, by now, trust me." It was so hard to understand herself sometimes, she loved him and most certainly trusted him but somehow it felt as though that man from before would never leave her.
"I do. I do. I just, the slightest thing makes me feel lacking, I suppose. Particularly in these kind of things." She gestures embarrassed at the pair of them. He knots his fingers through hers, rubbing them gently over her stomach.
"Cora, all those years ago, I would never have kept seeing you, taking you out if I hadn't thought that making you believe in yourself was worth it. I wouldn't have done it, if the moment you'd walked into that room for that interview I hadn't known you were someone I wanted in my life, to whatever degree. And I most certainly wouldn't have pursued being your boyfriend, after I knew your past, if I hadn't thought that maybe, just maybe, after I'd restored your confidence I'd still want you." She shyly smiles up at him her thoughts more relaxed, she'd been silly to worry. Robert was a very honour bound man both at work and at home. She'd known that for well over half her life.
"I'm hungry." He chuckles against her neck before sitting and throwing her back her clothes but she turns them away springing over to the drawers. "And once I've eaten I want to swim, and you," she twirls on her heels, her bikini in hand, "are going to join me."
His faces falls exactly as she expected, he wasn't the biggest fan of the water. She slowly pulls his favourite, royal blue, bikini over her. It was all tube straps that needed to be bowed. Cora had often felt self-conscious in it, but Robert had bought it for her, so she had borne the nerves and liked to wear it for him.
"If you're wearing that I might contemplate it."
"Would you do more than contemplate if I promised you something else?" She turns her back to him and he takes the trailing blue ties, swiftly bowing them in the middle of her back.
"You don't have to promise anything. Of course I'll come. I'd have come if you hadn't put that bikini on, I was just hoping if I looked upset you'd decide to wear it."
"In other words, I have a very cheeky husband." He stands, his hands caressing her hips.
"Yes. But I know you love him, so all is fine."
"We best be getting going. The girls will be waiting for us otherwise. I promised we'd have lunch with them." She makes to move passed him, watching the shimmering facets of water beyond the window as she does so, but his hand curls on her hip, spreading a shiver she hadn't been expecting. He tilts her face to him, his finger gently brushing a loose hair from her face, stilling on the corner of her lips. She reaches her hand up to clasp his wrist, turning her lips into his palm. He kisses her gently on the lips before she dives for her dress, the pounding on the door a clear indication that yes they were in fact late for lunch.
"Sometimes I wish we could just make them wait." She laughs as he grabs at her waist again, it was quite stunning to see him like this, the Caribbean was obviously having an effect on him already.
"But we can't. Our time is later, this is a family holiday." But she still indulges him, turning her face quickly to his. It was somewhat mesmerising to be spending a holiday in the vein she and Robert had spent their first holiday in Paris, a year before they were married. She felt young, and for the first time in a while, readily wanted by him.
Robert tried very hard to maintain his composure. The day, he supposed had been going so well, and now, now Mary seemed to deem it appropriate to ruin the peace. Well, she hadn't strictly destroyed the day Robert just utterly disagreed with the dress she was wearing. It was a scooped v-neck and Robert was totally convinced everyone was watching them as they were escorted to their table. Matthew would not be happy if he could see her. Matthew was her boyfriend of the last three years, and Robert's business partner. He walks steadily behind Cora, his fingers dancing on the bare back her dress revealed. Her skin was creamy, and only marginally creased beneath his palm.
"She shouldn't be wearing that dress." His whispers the words against her head, any onlooker would think he was kissing her elaborate up do.
"You wouldn't be so defensive if I was wearing it, I'm sure."
"You would never wear it." Cora was modest, if she was anything and well, at Mary's age she'd only just entered his life. She was the terrified woman fresh from an American university, who had been bullied by a boyfriend.
"Perhaps not. But, just let her be Robert, she'll take it the wrong way. I'm sure she's just trying to wind you up because you've taken her from Matthew for two weeks." It was true, this was her Spring holiday from the job she'd only had since September and no doubt she had been thinking she was to spend it with Matthew. Only to find that in fact her father had booked a big holiday for all of them.
"Well it was the last chance we might have. Mary will no doubt soon be engaged and Edith and Michael aren't far behind." Cora rolls her eyes at him as the waiter pushes the chair beneath her. He doesn't miss the glance at Mary's dress that the young man makes. He huffs and Cora gives him one of her looks, one that quite clearly reads 'my promise won't hold unless you behave.'
"I wouldn't hold your breath, men are involved, so things take a mighty amount of time." He chuckles at that because it had been true even for them for whose relationship had started with Cora being quite unsure about everything, but she'd still reached the idea of marriage months before he had.
"What are you laughing about Daddy?" It was Sybil, their fourteen year old smile peering up at him from the right hand side of Cora, at the 'head' of the table. She had the best view, straight out onto the froth of the sea which was churning beneath the great propellers, as the ship crawled through the harbour to the open sea.
"Your Mum was saying something funny." His bright eyed daughter turns to Cora next and tries foraging for answers to the questions she had about this so called 'joke.' Cora was defending herself well but Edith had clearly realised the conversation was not something Cora was about to repeat to Sybil and whispering something into her younger sister's ear Sybil blushed scarlet and dropped her questioning. Robert didn't really need to ask what Edith had mumbled, it was apparently something that made Sybil think the joke was entirely private and no doubt to do with the 'mid morning spent in your suite' that Mary had badgered on about all day. Mary remained silent throughout Sybil's questioning, only uttering a comment, and breaking her gaze from the view when the starter arrived.
Robert can't seem to quite focus on the Parma ham, cheese and pineapple dish before him without glancing over at Mary. She looked dejected, pushing the food slowly around her plate, not really eating it. Her mind was miles away and it worried Robert, he hadn't seen her like this since, well, it must have been since she'd been at school. Cora must notice his gaze because her hand slips onto his knee beneath the table her fingers rubbing gently.
"Try this sauce they've put on my salmon." She jabs her fork at the swirl of yellow on one side of her plate, and guessing that it might be mustard, and Cora wanted him to check before she tried it- she hated mustard- he dips his ham into the substance. Sure enough, it's mustard.
"It's got mustard in it." She nods her head and smiles prettily but Robert can't quite take his mind from Mary.
"Have you spoken to Matthew since we arrived?" He can feel Cora's gaze quite squarely on his back but he keeps his eyes trained firmly ahead at his eldest daughter as the waiter switches starter for soup.
"Yes. The office is fine, before you ask."
"I wasn't going to ask. Was he missing you?"
"What do you think?" Her spoon clatters into her soup, the appetising creamy mushroom sloshing over the edge in a suddenly sickly manner. "Why you had to book this holiday I couldn't tell you. But now we're here, you might as well stop pestering me about what I've left behind. It's alright for you, two weeks with Mum all to yourself because you managed to persuade me to share a room with not only one sister, but the other as well." She's stood from the table, snatching her purse from the sill by the window. "I'm going up to the buffet. I'll see you later." She marches to the aisle and Robert keeps staring at the grey, lumpy soup before him refusing to meet the gaze he feels hot on his neck.
The conversation becomes stilted from then on, Edith discusses how agitated Mary had seemed earlier and Sybil confirms that she had been preoccupied, her fingers constantly scrolling on her phone. Cora says very little, but Robert can tell that between the measured sips of wine she takes she's deep in thought.
The elaborate beef course with the steamed vegetables seems to appear flat and sullen now that Mary had jarred everyone's thoughts. Robert was beginning to wonder if he'd made a mistake in making the cruise a family holiday, perhaps he should have just taken Cora. But, the truth was he wanted to celebrate his twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with his girls, they had after all made up twenty-one years of it. He'd arranged it in such a way that time with Cora was available to him but also time with his girls, who were very quickly growing up. It felt like a few months ago when he'd first held the dark haired bundle that the nurse had announced was his daughter. And now, here she was on the brink of her own marriage, at just twenty-one it seemed quite extraordinary. He'd always thought Cora had been young, to settle down at twenty-four, but the three years Mary was likely to scrape off of that really scared him. Subconsciously he wondered if this was why he'd booked this holiday and made sure she could come, he wasn't quite ready to let her go yet, even to Matthew, and he worried she was too young, caught in the wonder of it all and not thinking realistically. From her behaviour this evening it was beginning to look as though he had been mistaken, she appeared to be desperate for Matthew to propose, if indeed that was what was occupying her thoughts.
"I'll speak to her tomorrow if things continue." She's the one whispering to him this time as they leave the dining room, her hand laced gently through his elbow, her fancy cocktail resting in the other hand.
"Do you think she wants him to propose?"
"I'd say so."
Edith and Sybil had left the two of them to enjoy their coffee and retired to the next deck to save some seats for the entertainment, so it's with some surprise that Robert spots a lilac blue trouser suit leaning over the counter at reception. She seems to sense she's being watching because she's turns and sure enough, the flushed face of his fourteen year old daughter turns his way.
"What are you doing?"
"Just making some inquiries about some of the ports of call."
"Wouldn't destination services be of more use for that?" Cora seems to find it as fishy as he does as they ascend the stairs.
"They're closed."
"Really, I could swear when I read the cruise news it said they were open at this time." Cora delves into her clutch, slipping the article posted beneath their cabin door, from within.
"Emergency, they changed their hours." Cora looks sceptical, her brow furrowing but they've reached the top of the staircase, Sybil darting off into the low lit theatre. "We're near the front. Third row."
"What on earth is she up to?" Cora beams up at him, her whole smile radiating in the dimly lit room. It was funny how the deep pit of annoyance in him could vanish at the sight of her smile. The sound of her chuckles and the gentle press of her arm against his own.
He'd missed that more than anything else. Sex had been sparse for a while that was for sure, but they were older, perhaps that had been the animalistic cause of him watching that Jane too closely, indulging her infatuation a little too much but it hadn't really changed what he wanted from his marriage, so much more than just that. Deep down he supposed the problem had rooted deeper than that. It had been woven into the routine their life had become. The school run, helping with homework, cooking, calls from their daughters miles away needing some support, long drives, no sleep. So, he'd booked this holiday, a surprise, oh, and he'd sorted out Jane. He wanted the small things back, that was what this was about reinventing Robert and Cora: moving their marriage into their new lifestyle.
"I don't know what she's about. But I do know, that my wife is stunning." He knows he takes her by surprise, her face twisting sharply towards him, her glass coming to rest slowly on the drinks table the further side of her as she assesses him.
"You're trying to make up for upsetting Mary."
"I'm doing no such thing. You do truly look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you darling." She laces her fingers through the ones he's placed on the curved wooden armrest of the club chair. She leans over to him anyhow, her lips pressing lightly at his neck. "You don't have to try to please me you know. Despite what you said to Mary, my promise still stands."
His thoughts flash across their afternoon as the dancing and singing starts. The flashes of the varying shades of costume stirring his thoughts.
The turquoise had been her eyes, the way they'd shined when he'd announced that Sybil was sharing with her sisters.
Red was the shade of her lips, the swollen plumpness.
The yellows and oranges were the sun watching over them as they'd swum in the warm salt water of the swimming pool, fresh from the Caribbean Sea beneath them.
The white the reflection from her sunglasses as the sun had hit the frames, blinding him at times.
The Royal blue was her bikini as he clasped it behind her back and then later beneath the water, her wet hands clinging to him as he tried desperately to tickle her.
The fawns and browns were her hair and skin. The former wafting from her bun onto her shoulders as they enjoyed the water. The fawn reflected, slightly the creamy colour of her skin. The feel of it beneath his lips seems to come fresh to his mind. The sensitivity of his fingers heightened as he relishes the small contact he has with her now. Many couples may have thought it mundane to hold hands, that it didn't mean much after a certain time but Robert had to disagree, it was these things that were the continuity. The friendship and the trust. They were the spark that had once, some twenty-nine years ago, set the ball rolling.
The show ends and Robert can't believe that forty minutes has passed. Sybil jumps from her chair exclaiming her desire to try the disco. Cora nods her approval and reaches for his hand as she stands. He clasps it and let's her drag him up the stairs to the still darker lounge above. Sybil drags Edith to the dance floor, he and Cora finding a seat off to the left of the floor.
He ambles to the bar, presenting his ship card to the bar tender before ordering a beer for himself and a sweet white wine for Cora, specifically the one she'd drunk on their first proper date.
He returns to where he'd left her to find Edith and Sybil sat around as well, the latter vigorously questioned her mother again.
"Oh come on Mama, how did you and Dad first meet?"
"Well, I was applying for the job as his secretary."
"We know that. I want detail." Cora glances nervously at him, her gaze unsure, questioning.
The truth was Robert could remember the day as clearly as if it was yesterday.
The morning had been horrendous, candidate after candidate waltzing through his doors, or strutting in the case of most of them, skirts to short, faces caked in makeup. It was therefore with great regret that he stumbled back to his top floor office on the 26th January. A day that he would look back on in the future, in less than even a year, as a very important day.
But at that moment he was contemplating turning the next candidate away the moment she walked through the door, he didn't want a secretary caked in makeup wearing a headband around her waist. He was angry with himself more than anything, he'd brought himself a reputation. The irony was he'd never slept with even half his secretaries, the issue was he'd probably picked the wrong ones to sleep with.
He was all prepared therefore as the door swung open to eye the woman up and down before he so much as let her anywhere near the chair opposite him. He knew it was wrong, to choose a woman like that, to be so obvious. But he was the leader of a vast company, a company that was watched like a hawk. He'd sat in many a meeting recently where the values of Downton Establishment had been brought into question- it had all been to do with him. He needed to break the mould, the rumour. His secretary, the woman assigned to accompanying him everywhere had to be a woman with morals, and ideally a decent length skirt. His reputation was on the line. His family title might have dissolved into insignificance about ninety years ago but the papers managed to dig it up when they wanted to-he did still live in the London house of his ancestors after all.
It's with more than just a little surprise therefore that when he looks up his eyes first glimpse a pair of reasonable height heels, this woman wasn't about to break her ankles. A little higher he finds the hem of her dress- a black bold shade, the size of most of the whole skirts he'd seen earlier that day. The dress had a white bodice and a black stripe matching the hem at the waist. And most importantly of all the hem was just three inches from her knees, and the skirt was flared. Still higher he finds a modest neckline, a pearl necklace nestled at her throat and a face that was certainly not caked in makeup. Her hair was dark, very dark, or at least it appeared so when her skin was so close to white. Her lips were rounded, pink and rather inviting-he curses himself for that. Her eyes are blue, a piercing blue that at that moment are narrowed in his direction. She steps forward with a folder in hand.
"Lord Downton," he was shocked at that, hardly anybody knew there was a title for the heir apparent. But that wasn't the thing that startled him most, it was the rich American accent, the tone of her voice as she spoke, it was altogether very captivating. "Before I sit down, I'd like to make something clear, I'm not here for anything but the job, if I get the job our relationship will only ever be professional. If you have a problem with that, I'd like to know now, before I waste any more time." He raises his eyebrows, so, she had morals, and a certain sense of pride-she was exactly what he was looking for.
"Miss..." He glances down at his desk, searching for the folder that should contain her notes, it drops into the top of his hands a second later.
"It's Miss Cora Levinson, and those," she points dramatically at the folder she'd dropped, "are I think, my notes, the gentleman downstairs said I was to bring them up." And then something happens that even he doesn't expect. He stands and reaches out his hand, her own small, slender fingers filling his large palm.
"I think Miss Levinson, you're perfect for the job. You fit all the credentials." Her hand slips from his grasp, her eyebrows raised in what Robert immediately recognises as astonishment.
"Really. Without so much as opening that folder you know I'm right for the job. I highly doubt that even you, the mighty Lord Downton, can make such an assumption. My 'credentials', a word I think you've used too freely appear to be merely my appearance." He closes his eyes his body slumping into the seat. He could hardly look through her folder now, and announce her perfect for the job. She'd think he was lying. He's surprised to find her own delicate form slips into the chair opposite him.
"Miss Levinson. You must forgive me, I've had a long day. A vast number of interviews for which I knew the moment the woman walked through the door I didn't want her. You surprised me when you appeared. I have a gut feeling that is all, that you and I would work well together. I'd be honoured if you would agree to be my personal assistant."
"Personal assistant?" He hadn't noticed his own slip of the tongue. But the honest truth was, a woman that looked like Miss Levinson could not be his mere secretary, people would greatly question his motives.
"Yes. The phrase secretary is all to common for a woman like yourself."
"Lord Downton-"
"Mr Crawley, or Robert, please."
"I refuse to become your piece of fluff for you to dress up and drag to meetings however you wish. I don't want to be paraded around for you to chuckle over with every second man. I know your reputation. And I refuse." The irony was he admired her for her courage to stand up to him, the flare, the good breeding, as his mother would say, that it showed. Any other woman would have been sent out of his office by now, but her sparking blue eyes kept him watching, kept him trying to guess what she was thinking, what she was going to fire at him next.
"Your point is clear Miss Levinson, or may I call you Cora."
"Not yet no."
"What I want to know, is why you applied for this job if you knew so much about my supposed reputation?"
"A woman is allowed secrets Robert, is she not?" He doesn't miss the way she manipulates her words, using the first name he'd only just allowed her to use, her accent rolling far too well over the r's. The fact her phrase has a sexual insinuation. She was playing him, and he wanted her to.
"Of course. I apologise. I was being rude."
"The truth is, I've only been in England a week. Yours was the first job I saw advertised in the paper once I'd purchased my house so I came." He can sense a discomfort, a trickling of something beneath the exterior, something she was trying so hard to hide and that was cutting her up.
"Your move to England was sudden?" Her hand reaches for the bracelet on her wrist, her nose scrunches up and the confident woman disappears, her shoulders visibly shake. "I'm sorry. Forgive me. That was even more rude than before."
"It's okay. You might as well know. I split from the man my parents had, I found out later, set up for me to marry. I ran."
"An arranged marriage is-"
"Search me, and you'll know. I think you might even understand, considering your background." It was amazing how the interview had fallen apart,the woman before him was not the confident, strong-willed woman he had first seen. Perhaps she once had been that person, but the Miss Levinson that now sat before him, timid and shaking was who she was now. He hoped that maybe he could bring back the young lady he had a feeling she was.
He flicks his fingers over the keys as she watches. Wikipedia brings up her link. The daughter of Isidore Levinson, the sister of Harold Levinson, the two gentlemen were partners in the family's law firm. The biggest law firm in America.
"The marriage, or rather the one your parents wanted was to solidify the law company?"
"Yes. He was an investor. The biggest investor, or the son of anyway." Her eyes close, her fingers curling once more around the bracelet on her wrist.
"Miss Levinson, I won't pity you, because I don't think you would want me to. But, I give you my protection, and this job. If your parents-"
"They agreed with my decision. He was a vile man. I just needed to know I would never see him again." He takes a steadying breath, so, he wasn't about to be bundled up in a law suit. "I needed a fresh start, my whole life had been the firm. I'd gone to university to escape it only to return to this arrangement. I refuse to go back."
"Well then, Miss Levinson. I think we might start going forward, together."