Richard was nervously holding his newspaper, trying to read. The train was moving so slowly he'd arrived to Downton Station faster on foot. But it was pouring rain, and Sir Richard Carlisle was not a man who'd walk in such weather.
But it wasn't the weather that made his hands shakey since he left King's Cross. Mary. My dear lady Mary Crawley. It was his first visit to her hometown since they met in London two month ago. He liked her, there was no doubt about it, since the moment he laid eyes on her. Admittedly, he was strangly straight-forward that day, asking her for a dance despite her obvious mourning. Dressed in black, yet still the most beautiful creature he's ever seen.
When finally arrived in Downton, he was picked up by Branson, driver to the Crawleys. When he got closer to the house, he was able to see all the servants lined up on one side, and the family one the other. And there she was, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Grantham, dressed in a simple white blouse and dark grey skirt, well covering her knees.
»Welcome, sir Richard,« said Lord Grantham, shaking the newcomer's hand.
»Thank you.«
»We're very pleased you were able to arrive on such short notice,« said Lady Grantham, showing him in, the daughters following. Richard couldn't help himself but descretely winking Lady Mary. Luckily, the only thing others saw, was how terribly she blushed.
After the tour of the house – which he thought took ages – Richard was finally left alone in his room. He dismissed Brooks instantly, unpacking himself. He wanted to be alone for a moment before going down to dinner. He was shocked Lady Mary wasn't the only woman that stayed in his mind after the tour. For some unknown reason, he found the lady of the house somehow more attractive.
Cora. He immediatelly corrected himself. Lady Grantham.
The only one who didn't have anything to say about him being the nouveau riche and all that comes with it. He really hated that in Mary, the only thing he hated in her. She didn't let go of the fact he was not high born like her. In a way, not worthy.
Cora was attentive, with her American way of approaching people. She was way friendlier than all of the others combined, knew how to make really boring tales of the house interesting. The last part of the tour left him alone with her, going through the upstairs. She held dim under the arm as they walked together, her telling him about who occupies which bedroom, him subconsciously brushing her knuckles. When they finished, he kissed them gently.
The whole dinner was all about growing tensions on the Continent, Balkan wars and their effect on Middle Europe, Germans growing more and more greedy with every year, and other political topics. As a newspaper man, Richard knew a lot about the current political affairs, impressing most of high class, present at the dining table. Mary was engaged in the conversation with her cousin Matthew since she always hated politics and wanted to talk of something else.
It was after dinner when Richard was finally alone with her ladyship. He found her outside, slowly sipping her brandy.
»Lady Grantham.« She turned around, pleased to see Richard and not Lord Grantham.
»Sir Richard. I thought I told you to call me Cora.« He smiled, bowing to her.
»Cora. What made you go to the cold? I believe ladies are playing bridge at the moment.« She smirked, rolling her eyes.
»A good reason not to stay indoors, then.« They laughed. »Admit it, Richard, those ladies are not a perfect company. And I craved for some time just being with myself. There's...« She suddely realized she's explaining her problems to a stranger. »My apologies, sir Richard, I...«
He held her hand. »Please continue, Cora. And call me Richard.« He leaned his head to one side, getting closer to her. He could almost smelled her perfume, felt the warmth of her breath, tasted her lips-
»I just...I don't know how I managed so far but...this aristocracy is making me mad. I don't belong here. Robert's only passion is Downton Abbey, and it seems I can hardly compete with this damn house.«
Richard felt that, too. So many times. Felt like a commoner even though he had more money than most of the people in the room. He doesn't belong here, and neither does she.
»I wish we met before. We could face the upper class as husband and wife.« She looked at him. His eyes were staring at her lips, his hands found their way around her waist, pressing her closer to his body. The cologne he wore and the smell of his cigar were almost erotic. She felt her nipples hardened, and it wasn't because of the cold, she was sure of it. She cupped his cheek before finally drawing him in for a kiss. It was a long but a light kiss, more of a comforting nature than of passion. Not like the next one, followed by Cora's tongue wandering into Richard's mouth, tasting his cigar and whisky he drank just before he decided to go for some fresh air.
They were far away from the reach of Robert Crawley's eyes, hiding behind a large tree. Richard led her to the tree, pressing her to it. It became evident the tree wasn't the only wood around. Cora felt the one in front of her as well, and smiled. God, he felt good, with his strong hands pressing her closer to his manly body, all the different tastes his mouth offered, from sweet to sour, his tongue dancing with hers, making her mouth water with lust.
Richard's hands moved lower, trying to reach her skin, hidden under all those skirts. Robert didn't strike him as a passionate man with foreplay never being his forte, but Richard was different, experienced. When he finally moved away the last barrier between his hand and Cora's bare skin, she quickly thought about her daughter, not having a clue what was going on in the garden. You have no idea what you're missing, dear.
She shivered from excitement when he touched her tights, his fingers making her feel wanted again. After so many years of Robert and his...well, old-fashioned way of lovemaking, Richard was exactly what she needed. Or better to say, what her secret place he was approaching, needed. Stroking her gently with her smallclothes still in between his hand and there, Richard broke the kiss so he could hear her deep breaths, her little screams of pleasure she silenced so the house party wouldn't hear them. He sank his face into her cleavage, as much as it was uncovered, kissing the upper part of her breast. Cora pushed him deeper, making him uncover more of her bare skin. He made her lay down on the grass, him on top of her, caging her with his strong hands and broad shoulders. He looked more like a protector, not a lover.
Richard undid his trousers while Cora pulled down her smallclothes. This was really happening. She was already soaking wet, and the state of his trousers clearly showed Richard wanted her. She giggled to herself. You're a lady and you're letting a man taking you outside your house, still dressed? He felt her there, between her tights. She was ready as he entered her, slowly and gently, like he wanted to stroke her with his manhood. Cora wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him further in, making her bit her lower lip in attempt not to cry in pleasure. She felt him nearly gliding into her.
The look on his face told her she should be patient or else the newspaper man is likely to spill into her very quickly. His eyes closed and he tried to control himself with deep breaths.
»Slowly, my lady, or this could end faster than planned.« She pulled his face closer to her.
»But you wouldn't allow yourself a defeat, would you?« He grinned, thrusting into her. She closed her eyes. He went deeper and deeper with every attempt, making her wish he'd never stop. He reached the corners of her that Robert never could. The remote corners of her body only a skilled lover is able to reach. He kept on kissing her lips, her breasts, her shoulders. They changed positions which Cora found amusing and above all, arousing.
Richard was clearly in a good shape. He kept going and going, thrusting into her in different ways, untill finally spilling outside of her on the grass. He didn't want her pregnant. He only wanted her satisfied. And satisfied, she looked.