Author's Note: Alright, this fic will have precisely 7 chapters. Chapter two is O'Brien. That's all I'm saying for now. Huzzah for more of Cora and Robert shocking the servants! Thank you to my darling, splendid, terrific and fabulous beta settees-under-siege. You are a doll and I love you.
March 1912
Thomas could not believe the nerve of some people. Mr. Watson had just left his job, leaving Mr. Carson no choice but to make Thomas look after His Lordship. Thomas hated the pompous snob, yet he would do anything to gain more power as a servant, so he bit his tongue. Not to mention he thought Her Ladyship was always notably lusting after her husband. When Thomas had dressed His Lordship for bed the previous night, he had gone straight into Her Ladyship's bedroom, and when Thomas had gone up that morning, he still hadn't come back from Her Ladyship's bed. From what he had heard from Miss. O'Brien, he always stayed in his wife's room, all night. And the bed was always a mess too. Thomas laughed, not envying Miss O'Brien and what she had to go through all the time.
Thomas continued doing his job, pretending to really like His Lordship. It wasn't that difficult. It's not like His Lordship ignored him as he was dressing him, the two of them often engaged one another in conversation and His Lordship behaved like nothing was wrong with the fact that he went to his wife's bed every night. Thomas thought it was most improper, since it was no secret that the couple had married to save the estate. His Lordship's title in exchange for his American wife's money. It was a heartless reason to marry. Thomas knew though, that if he ever got married, it would not be for love at all. The world was a heartless place, and Thomas envied His Lordship and his happy marriage, his loving marriage. He resented happy couples, especially happy couples with bumpy beginnings.
He was simply doing his job and being courteous to his employer, so that he wouldn't get sacked. That was the last thing he wanted. He had been the stand-in valet to His Lordship for close to a week when he was bringing up some of His Lordship's evening shirts to the dressing room. He was putting them away when he heard a banging against the dividing door between the dressing room and Her Ladyship's bedroom. He stopped moving and went to the door to listen. He pressed his ear against it, seriously wondering what was going on. He hoped that nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong. His worry disappeared when he heard a giggle that obviously belonged to Her Ladyship. She wouldn't be giggling if she were injured.
"Oh Cora," he heard his Lordship's voice say, along with a few groans.
"Robert, harder," Her Ladyship pleaded. Thomas' eyes grew wide; he wasn't stupid, he knew exactly what was going on in that bedroom. But why against the door? They had a bed. He was shaken from his thoughts by more rhythmic thumping against the door, much harder and faster than before. Thomas pulled his ear from the door, stepping back, for it had been shaking against his face, and it was getting horribly uncomfortable.
"Cora, I'm going as hard as I can, unless you want the door broken," His Lordship grunted. Thomas' face crunched up in disgust. This was really improper.
"Break the door, Robert," Her Ladyship begged. "I need you." Thomas left the rest of the shirts that hadn't been put away on the bed and he left the room, scared in case the Lord of the House, in response to his Lady's begging, did break the door and they saw him standing there.
As scheming as Thomas was though, he considered the intimacy of Lord and Lady Grantham that he had overheard as a closely guarded secret. He would never tell a soul.