Hello, everyone! I'm far from new to fanfiction but this is my first ever Downton Abbey story and I'm super excited to share it with you guys (though a little hesitant)! Like everyone else in this fandom I cannot wait to see the movie next year. Robert and Cora (aka Cobert) captured my attention from the beginning and I too let my imagination run wild as to how these two met. I've enjoyed the hundreds of fics surrounding Cobert, there are so many great writers here. I've decided to do a little bit of an AU, where Robert comes to terms with his love for Cora much sooner than what we know in canon. I have a pretty good idea of where I want to take this story and beyond to the actual events of the show itself. My updates may vary, but I'm hoping with a new story I can be more frequent. Reviews/feedback is always welcome, I hope you enjoy it! Happy Holidays!
Chapter One
London 1888
Robert couldn't keep his eyes off her as she danced in the arms of a duke, twirling about the ballroom in quick, fluid movements. Their swaying bodies soon became lost to him amongst the sea of dancing couples, except for the flutter of a glittering crème gown. Their eyes met briefly, one second where time seemed frozen in place, and then once more she was gliding away from him, blending back in the crowd. But those eyes he remembered, a delicate yet piercing shade of blue that drew him like a moth to the flame.
The music surrounding him didn't matter. Instead, the pounding of his heart echoed through his ears like the beat of a drum, loud and rhythmic that Robert was sure the gentleman standing beside him could hear it. He sipped his champagne leisurely, waiting for the orchestra to die down in hopes that he might catch another glimpse of her and the exquisite gown she attired.
When the upbeat tempo finally slowed, Robert gave his glass to a passing footman carrying a silver tray. Again, he sought her out amongst the diverging couples, growing disappointed when neither she nor the Duke emerged from the dance floor. A tap on his shoulder made him jump and he twirled around, hoping that it was her, only to be met with the crooked smile of his scheduled dance partner. His grin faded slightly, feigning his disappointment once more, and he held out his hand for the young woman to take.
Robert led her out to the dance floor as the orchestra transitioned to the next song. He guided her around the ballroom with expert steps, earning him gracious compliments, but he hardly paid her the attention she deserved. His eyes kept scanning the room, desperately searching for the woman wearing a crème gown.
"I didn't think I'd be such a disappointment."
The young woman held loosely in his arms spoke with such softness that Robert barely heard her over the music, as close as they were to each other. He moved his gaze back to her, but she was no longer looking at him. Her chin fell to her chest as she watched their feet slide effortlessly across the polished floor. "I do apologize," Robert said. "I never meant to treat you as such."
She looked back up at his apology and smiled slightly. "I know I'm not the one you seek, but I've enjoyed having the chance to make your acquaintance, Lord Downton."
Robert managed a polite smile in return. "As am I, Miss . . ."
"Marsden," she supplied for him. "Eleanor Marsden."
He bowed his head. "A pleasure, Miss Marsden. And might I add, you dance just as divinely."
She blushed, her eyes once more straying from his handsome face. "Thank you."
They continued to swirl about in silence, moving in time to the music and circling those who grew sluggish and tired. As the song faded away with the low whine of a cello, Robert ushered Eleanor off the dance floor, their fingers still loosely entwined.
"Thank you again for the dance, Lord Downton," Eleanor said as she smoothed out the slight wrinkle of her pale blue gown.
Robert bowed his head once more. "The pleasure was all mine."
"Might we see more of each other while we're in London?" Her lips twitched, holding back the crooked smile he thought was rather charming on her. "That is, if you'll be staying in the city the rest of the Season."
Robert held his hands behind his back, twisting his fingers together. His gaze drifted away from hers briefly, but in those few seconds he caught a glimpse of that alluring crème gown, closely followed by the impeccable dark uniform of the Duke she had been dancing with. He gripped his fingers tightly, resisting the urge to run to her. It appeared they were leaving the ballroom. Then he remembered that he was being impolite, ignoring a perfectly sensible young woman, who it seemed, was vying for his attention.
"Of course." He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll send for you tomorrow if you like? Perhaps take a stroll in the park?"
"That would be lovely, Lord Downton."
"Robert, please." He never cared much for formalities, at least not when his mother was around.
Eleanor folded her hands in front of her, a slight blush returning to her cheeks. "If you insist, Robert."
Robert's smile widened, though he instantly regretted leading her on, as unintentional as it was. He kept glancing at the glass doors that led back to the great hall of the house, wondering where the woman who captured his attention had gone. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Marsden, I'd best check in with my sister. I've monopolized your time already."
"Not at all," she said, laying a hand on his upper arm. It seemed she was just as startled by her boldness as Robert for they both took a step back from each other. "I'm terribly sorry, that was too forward of me."
"Nonsense. We both danced together, quite well in fact. The gesture was entirely appropriate."
The sound of string instruments being retuned for the next song lured couples back onto the dance floor. Robert was relieved once Eleanor's next dance partner approached them and she graciously took his outstretched hand.
"Until tomorrow," she said, showing off that crooked smile.
He nodded his head. "Yes. Until then."
When they finally disappeared amongst the crowd, Robert made for the glass doors, exiting the ballroom with haste. He scarcely remembered seeing his sister, Rosamund, newly presented, staring after him as he scurried away.
He passed several liveried footmen lining the walls of the great hall, greeting new arrivals and sending off those embarking for home. He searched everywhere for her, the drawing room, the library, the picture room, even the private music room that housed a grand piano. But she wasn't there.
Twisting the toe of his polished shoe on the marble flooring, Robert turned around and meandered back to the ballroom, not wanting to dance with anyone but her. It was silly, he thought. Pining away for a woman he knew nothing about, least of all her name. But that first glimpse of her as she'd arrived sent his pulse racing. She wasn't like any of the English girls he knew so well, or the ones his mother kept pushing at him. There was a different air about her that he couldn't quite figure out. She remained a mystery to him until the moment their eyes met, briefly, as she twirled past him in the arms of a duke.
He came to a stop at the wall of windows overlooking the garden and courtyard of the stately home. It was dark out, the summer sun having faded quite some time ago. He wondered if it was cooler outside or just as stifling as the crowded ballroom. He pushed through the French doors to his left and felt the refreshing July air glide across his cheeks, the slight breeze ruffling his styled hair.
Robert followed the stone footpaths through the garden, admiring what he could from the bleak glow of the gas lamps lining the exterior of the house. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, wondering if it was acceptable to decline the request he made of Miss Marsden. She was a lovely young woman, but she didn't captivate him like the mystery girl he sought after. He wasn't sure if it was love at first sight or just an infatuation. He wanted to know her, whoever she was.
His Mama would be pleased that he found someone he deemed worthy of marriage. It was, after all, her intention of sending him along to Rosamund's coming-out that he consider his options, preferably one of esteemed standards and wealth. If only he could find her and the infernal Duke who seemed to be lusting after her. Robert balled his hands into a fist at the thought, now realizing that he was no better. He had never been so infatuated with a girl before, but he knew that he would never use his aristocratic title to prove how powerful he could be. He was glad he wouldn't be inheriting a dukedom. Being an earl was grand enough, and he hoped his future countess felt the same.
He rounded a stone fountain in the shape of an angelic cherub, its pointed wings and child-like face angled up to the heavens. Robert wasn't sure if it was the buzzing of the insects floating around him or his imagination, but he could distinctly hear something, or someone, just beyond the line of short trees at the end of the path. He drew closer, careful to keep as quiet as possible.
Robert peered around the tree and his breath caught in his throat. She was there, sitting on a stone bench, her exquisite crème gown looked wrinkled and dirty. Her shoulders shook with the muffled sobs she tried to hide in the palms of her hands. He suddenly felt protective of her and so he pushed his way through the short branches, not caring if his evening coat was scratched or torn. "Excuse me?" Robert said, keeping his voice low and soft.
The young girl flinched as she turned around to face the stranger. She recognized him at once. How could she forget the tall handsome man she locked eyes with in the ballroom? Looking up at him, he seemed genuinely concerned.
"May I?" Robert gestured to the stone bench she was sitting on.
She nodded and moved over to let him sit down.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," Robert began, "but I noticed that you were out here alone." He kept his gaze down at the ground, noticing a short tear at the end of her gown that split through the stains of dirt and grass peppering the delicate material. Anger boiled deep within him, thinking that the Duke must somehow be responsible for her current state of distress.
"I haven't been out here long," she said, like him, choosing to stare down at her feet.
Her American accent surprised him, but Robert found it to be music to his ears, the soft and exotic cadence of it. "Are you all right?" He dug around in the inside pocket of his coat, eventually pulling out a handkerchief and offering it to her.
The girl nodded, taking the outstretched piece of cloth without hesitance. She wiped at the corner of her eyes and across her cheeks.
"Did something happen?"
"I lost my footing is all," she said, turning to face him.
Robert could hardly breathe. They sat close to each other but kept a respectable distance between them. In the soft glow of the light illuminating the footpaths, those captivating blue eyes never looked more beautiful to him. The skin of her face was pale, but it was complimented by a slender nose and dark, shapely lips. Oh how he wanted to take her in his arms, to finally know what it felt like. He knew she was keeping the truth from him, but it wasn't his place to know her business. They hardly knew each other.
Robert curled his fingers around the sharp edge of the stone bench. "You can tell me the truth. I won't criticize. I'd merely like to help."
"That's very kind of you," she said, letting her statement dangle in hopes that he would supply his name.
"I'm Robert Crawley—or Lord Downton to be more precise."
"Cora Levinson. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I-I noticed you in the ballroom earlier."
Cora. It was such a lovely name. But how could he explain the lengths he went to find her without making himself look a fool? "I noticed you as well. I'm sure the Duke found you just as charming." His eyes widened, realizing what he said, and he glanced away, feeling embarrassed.
The heat rose in Cora's cheeks. He was different from the men her mother introduced her to, not quite shy, definitely reserved as most Englishmen were, but also polite and honest. "Thank you," she said, resting her hand on top of his, which was curled around the edge of the bench.
Robert looked down at their hands, enjoying the softness and the warmth she created by one simple touch. He uncurled his fingers, letting them entwine with hers. Their eyes met and Robert couldn't help himself. "Will you save me a place on your dance card?" he asked. "Because I'd very much like to dance with you, Cora."
Cora smiled, loving the way the sound of her name rolled off his tongue, coupled with the accent that was so familiar it seemed natural. She was about to agree, but then remembered the state of her dress, ripped at the hem and stained with scuffs of dirt and grass. "I can't," she breathed out, shaking her head. "I mean, I can't go back in there. My dress is ruined. What will everyone think if they see me like this?"
"Did he—I mean, did the Duke do something to you? Did he force you to—"
"No!" Cora shook her head vehemently. "He made advances, yes, but it was my own fault for leading him on."
"Cora, you can tell me. It'll be just between us—I promise."
The softness with which he spoke to her warmed her insides. She gripped his hand tight, letting the contact soothe her for the time being. She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. "He embraced me and . . . the intensity of it shocked me, so I pushed him away. He grew angry and took hold of my arm, squeezing it forcefully."
She began to cry again and Robert reached over for her other hand, holding them together. "I managed to free myself from his grip," she continued, sniffling, "but the ends of my dress caught the edge of a metal planter and I stumbled. He just left me there on the ground and turned back inside. I made a fool of myself in front of a duke. Mother will be disappointed, angry, now that my best evening gown is ruined."
Cora pulled away from Robert and buried her face in one of her hands. Now she was making a fool of herself in front of him too, which was the last thing she wanted to have happen. She held a certain liking to him already.
"You don't have to go back inside. We can dance right here." He shook his head. "That is, if you want to."
Cora looked up at him, a few tears sliding down her cheeks. What a sweet gesture, but how could they when there was no music to dance to? And what if someone should find them? Surely she would never be granted an invitation to another grand ball again. But his blue eyes held such care and gentleness she couldn't refuse him. Nodding her head, Cora allowed Robert to help her up to her feet and guide her to an open area of the courtyard.
Robert closed his eyes at the feeling of finally having her in his arms, at long last. They could remain together for as long as they wanted. There was no orchestra or single men and women looking for a partner to dictate their dance together. It was a moment of peace both of them desperately needed.
Taking the lead, Robert maneuvered her around the courtyard, delighted by how well of a dancer she truly was. They danced in silence for several minutes, enjoying the fresh air surrounding them, until he pulled her closer, slowing his movements. He wouldn't dare such a presumptuous move in a public ballroom, but she felt so natural there in his arms that he couldn't resist having her so near. He leaned forward, letting his cheek rest against the top of her head.
Cora closed her eyes as they swayed together, forming slow, melodic circles. She let out a quiet gasp when she felt him lean closer. She'd never been in such proximity to a man before, other than her father of course. It was so very different than her dance with the Duke. Robert was kind and gentle, where he was not. She never wanted it to end. But when he did stop, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face.
"Thank you," she whispered next to his ear. They had yet to pull apart from each other.
"Please say you'll see me again, Cora? I don't want to forget about you just yet."
Cora stepped back from him, surprised. Coming from any other man, she would have given some excuse, but before she could even form the words to agree, she was nodding her head. "Yes. I'd like that very much."
Robert smiled, his stomach fluttering with nerves and excitement. He wanted to pick her up in his arms and twirl her around. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. For once he felt truly happy. He wasn't proposing marriage yet, but he had a bad feeling that his mother would not approve of him spending his spare time with an American.
Robert knew Downton and its estate was crumbling financially and that his father suggested he secure a young heiress's fortune, but could he really give up a lifetime of happiness with the right girl for a secure estate and a loveless marriage?
"Robert?" Cora shook his arm gently, pulling him out of his reverie. "Might we go back inside? It's starting to feel rather cold out here."
Robert shook his head. "Of course." Then he glanced down at her ruined gown. She was right. She couldn't step back inside that ballroom looking like that. "You were right. We can't have everyone seeing you like this." He gestured to her dress. "I'll have a carriage arranged to take you home."
"But my mother. She attended with me. How will I explain . . ."
"I can have a message sent that you went home early due to illness. I'll have another carriage arranged for your mother as well. Where are you staying so that I might find you?"
Cora bit down on her lip, feeling hesitant to give such personal information to a man she just met. But she felt like they'd known one another for years. He was so kind to her, and she did agree to see him again. "We're staying in Berkley Square. Do you know it?"
"Not as well as I should. Our London house is on Belgrave Square, not too far from here actually."
"I confess, I haven't explored the city much."
"Then I shall be your guide, Miss Levinson," Robert said, bowing graciously. It was the first time he heard her laugh and he found he liked it just as much as her accent.
"You're too kind, Lord Downton." Cora gave him her best curtsy, sending them both into another fit of laughter.
After regaining their breath, he held out his arm and Cora accepted, letting him walk her back to the house. Robert stayed with her in the great hall as he instructed a footman to call for a carriage and then send word to Cora's mother that she would be leaving.
In a matter of minutes, a carriage had pulled up outside and Robert helped Cora inside, letting his hand remain in hers far longer than what propriety deemed appropriate.
"I'll call on you tomorrow?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
Cora nodded. "You may. Perhaps I'll even let you stay for dinner. Then I can introduce you to my mother. I'm sure she'll want to meet you after all that's happened tonight."
Robert tried to keep his smile genuine. He didn't dislike meeting the parents of women he occasionally took out, it was the constant pressure they put him under being an eligible bachelor with a title. And nobody put him under such pressure as his mama, especially now that the estate was in dire need of an influx in capital.
"I'd be delighted to meet your mother," Robert said. "Goodnight, Miss Levinson." He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it, letting his thumb brush across her knuckles. He glanced up at her and their eyes met. There were no words for how Robert felt in that moment. Her cheeks were tinged a light shade of red and her smile stretched up to her ears. He believed he could make this woman happy, and she him.
"Goodnight . . . Robert." Cora let go of his hand and as he stepped back the carriage lurched forward.
Robert watched her disappear, the clop-clop of the horse's hooves on the cobblestone street reverberated in his ears, until the rhythm of it became a distant echo. He remained outside for several minutes, Cora long gone by now, when a swift breeze tickled his ears, causing him to shiver. He turned around, a bit dismayed that the footman who called for the carriage was still waiting for him. He climbed the few steps and nodded his thanks then slipped through the doorway, his sister and Miss Marsden far from his thoughts.