First, my special thanks granthamfan for being the most wonderful beta anyone could have. And I'm honored to have you!
Second, I have to confess that, since I heard the spoilers that there would be trouble in the Robert and Cora's relationship, this story had been haunting me. So much that I couldn't write any chapters of other fanfics I'm working on. But after the first episode, last Sunday, this finally happened. I hope you enjoy.
She had retired to her bedroom immediately after dinner, and no one in the family had questioned her reasons. There was no need. It wasn't necessary to have a brilliant mind to notice Robert's absence at the dinner table. Robert's total absence, actually; almost as if he hadn't even traveled with them to London and had instead staying in Yorkshire.
She let out a resigned sigh. They practically hadn't seen each other after that evening, since everything had happened. Almost three entire days. He was not willing to hear, and she was not willing to talk. So they went silent. A heavy and thick silence, almost palpable. And silently he had removed himself from her bedroom to sleep in his dressing room, whose closed door she had pretended to ignore the entire time she'd been sitting there on the settee next to her bed. It was a painful reminder that the distance between them was bigger than a simple wooden door.
Although she had discarded her shoes earlier, she hadn't had the energy to change her clothes and she was still wearing her evening gown. She hadn't rang for Baxter, either and now, while she removed one by one the pins that held her hair, she knew she wouldn't do it. It was almost dawn and everyone had long been asleep. Or, at least, those whose guilts and pains were not too heavy would be, she thought.
God, she was exhausted. But she knew that sleep wouldn't come easily, just like the night before. Apparently, tonight it wouldn't come at all. It was impossible to sleep. Not with this pressure in her chest. Images of what had happened in the recent months kept popping up in her mind whenever she closed her eyes; tormenting her, torturing her while she painfully tried to understand how she had gotten there- how they had gotten there.
When had his eyes lost hers? His kind and gentle words at their anniversary dinner echoed endlessly in her mind. "My Cora." She knew that it had been a special demonstration of his feelings, mainly because he didn't usually do that in public. Her heart knew too well the meaning of those words, but did his heart still really wanted her to be his? And although, later that night, he had whispered sweet endearments in her ear in the darkness of her bedroom, now his words seemed to have a different meaning. "The best companion." When had they become just companions?
Unable to remain there any longer she stood up, the emptiness of her bedroom overwhelming her. She walked toward the door and her eyes avoided the large and empty bed, still untouched. Once a witness of their most intimate secrets and promises, it was now a cold and cruel reminder that the emptiness was already there even when they still shared it.
She slowly walked down the hallway, feeling the softness of the carpet under her bare feet. It was a beautiful night, and maybe a walk in the garden could bring her some peace of mind. But she changed her mind when her eyes had caught the light coming through the open door of the sitting room. It wasn't their habit to use this room at night. Maybe someone had forgotten to turn off the lights, she thought, though in her heart she knew that this wasn't the reason that was dragging her there.
Even before her eyes had seen the empty glass and the half bottle of whiskey on the coffee table or the elegant tweed jacket carelessly thrown over the armchair, she knew he would be there. But, surprisingly, he was nowhere to be seen. It was then the soft breeze that gently swayed the white curtains revealed that the balcony door was ajar.
She hesitated for a long time before she found the courage to walk to the French doors. Despite knowing that he would be there, the sight of his unmistakable silhouette illuminated by the dim light of the moon made her momentarily unable to move.
With his back to the door, Robert hadn't seen her- or maybe he had chosen to ignore her presence at the doorway. For a long moment she stood there, silently watching him. There was something almost intangible in the scene, her tall and strong husband, standing there all alone with his large hands resting on the railing while his eyes seemed to stare at some distant point on the horizon. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the gentle way his silvery curls moved under the soft breeze, but seeing him like that made her feel her heart breaking again.
God, how she missed him. And it hurt her even more to know that her longing wasn't just for the past two days. It had started a long time before that.
Quietly, she finally walked toward him, stopping at his side. He didn't look at her or even move a single muscle when she had placed her hands on the railing, next to his. She also didn't dare to look at him, too terrified of what she would find in his eyes. Instead, she kept her gaze at the garden down below, watching the gentle sway of the trees. Their hands were so close that the heat of his hand next to hers evoked feelings for a time long-forgotten. Thirty-four years later and she felt the same thrill from the days of their courtship, when a simple touch of their hands was able to steal her sleep. Sadly, now the distance of a few inches seemed insuperable, keeping not only their hands but their souls apart, as they had never been.
For a long moment they stood in silence, the soft sounds of the night filling the heavy air between them, until her voice finally broke the silence.
"You didn't come for dinner," she said softly and paused for a moment, trying to steady her voice before continuing. "I was worried."
It took him some time to answer, his silence increasing her anxiety. And when he finally spoke with his eyes still fixed on the horizon, his deep and rich voice reverberated inside her.
"I'm sorry for that."
She could no longer ignore his nearness, longing for his touch. Slowly she slid her hand on the railing until it gently brushed his. She waited in painful expectation that he would move his hand away, the same way he had moved himself away from her in the past few weeks. But he didn't, and that encouraged her to proceed.
"You had disappeared all day," she felt the urge to explain herself. "No one seemed to know where you were." But she regretted her words immediately because it had sounded more like an accusation. Once more, he stood silent for a long moment until his voice sounded again, softer than she had expected.
"I was at the club," he said, still not looking at her; still keeping his distance, but still not moving his hand away from hers.
If the empty bottle in the sitting room hadn't been enough clue, his confession gave her the certainty that he had drunk a lot- probably much more than he should. She knew him too well to think otherwise. And for a moment, she was concerned for his welfare because she knew the effects that heavy drinking combined with his probably empty stomach could have on him.
"Are you feeling all right?" The sound of her own words made her feel foolish and insensitive and again she regretted it. Even if the meaning of her question was completely different, it was so obvious that he wasn't. Neither of them were. How could they be?
He removed his hand from hers, breaking the fragile contact she had established and she felt her heart shatter again. And if it was too late? And if there's no turning back? She closed her eyes, a lump forming in her throat, the pressure on her chest making it hard to breath. She expected to hear his harsh answer or to be left alone again. What she didn't expect was the sudden warmth of his hand gently covering hers. Although she had wished it so badly, she wasn't prepared for it and her body shivered under his touch.
"I'm not," his low voice prompted her to raise her head to finally look at him. The honesty she found in his deep blue eyes caught her completely off guard especially because, this time, he was looking at her. He was really looking at her- in a way that maybe he hadn't for a long time. "But I hope will, soon," he added in a whisper.
There was no sign of the cold anger she had seen in his eyes some nights ago, only a shadow of sadness. And in the bottom of it, she could see something else – a hint of a spark, of that so familiar light – that warmed her insides and gave her courage to sustain his gaze for a long moment.
"I am so, so very sorry, Robert," she finally managed to say, blinking back stubborn tears.
"Don't be," he entwined his fingers with hers and gently squeezed her hand. A very small gesture of reassurance, but so tender and so warm that it was enough to make her heart skip a beat. Maybe it wasn't too late.
"It wasn't your fault," he finally said before both of them had watched their united hands for a moment, as if they were a small miracle.
"Maybe not entirely," she said in a small voice, her eyes searching for his once more before she shook her head coyly. "I was flattered. And somehow I must have encouraged him."
"Please, don't say that," he said, his eyes still fixed on hers as if, now that they had met again, it was impossible for him to look away. "I am the one who should be blamed," he took her hand between his, gently stroking its back with his thumb. "I should never, ever have taken you for granted. And I am truly sorry. I-"
She interrupted him, placing her fingers on his lips, the softness and warmth of them burning her skin.
"We," she said in a whisper, her eyes locked on his, "We shouldn't have taken us for granted."
"I missed you," he said quietly. His eyes softened and the tenderness of his gaze brought tears to hers. Gently, she slid her hand to stroke his cheek, feeling the roughness of his unshaven chin under her fingers. Robert then covered her hand with his and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch for a moment, before taking her hand to his lips to kiss its palm.
"I don't want to lose you," he whispered, slowly pulling her to him until his arms finally fully enveloped her. She could smell the scent of whiskey and cigars on his clothes, but she couldn't care less about that. She was in his arms again, and that was the only thing that really mattered. Then she allowed herself to get lost in the familiar warmth of his embrace, every part of her body remembering him, longing for him.
"You didn't," she finally whispered into the crook of his neck, feeling him pulling her even closer, her heart pounding in her chest. "You won't."
"I was so self-absorbed and blind. I—", he struggled with his emotions, without finding the words and when he spoke again, his voice was nothing more than a soft murmur. "I am really sorry for failing to see you," he pulled away from her enough to lift her chin gently until their eyes met. And there it was again. She felt her knees buckle when she faced his gaze, her Robert's gaze, full of words that his eyes only spoke to hers. Then, even before his lips had pronounced the words, she knew. Once more, it was written in his eyes.
"I love you," his eyes slid down her face in a silent caress and the softness of his voice when he spoke again, warmed her insides. "Even though sometimes I fail to show you how much, I do love you. Deeply."
She felt her mouth go dry, her entire body yearning for his kiss, desperately wishing him to take her in his arms and wipe out all of their uncertainties, all of their pains. And she could see that he also longed for this, but instead he just leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, as if he was looking for the courage to take the next step.
"There's something I'd like to ask you." He had finally opened his eyes to look at her before he continued. "Something I should have done before," he took a step backwards and reached for both of her hands. For a moment she was terrified about what he would ask her, but then the light in his eyes reassured her. And when he knelt before her, a coy smile on his lips and his blue eyes locked intently on hers, she just stopped breathing- just as had happened so many years before.
"Cora Crawley," he began hesitantly, his voice hoarse. "My Cora," he smiled softly, seeking for reassurance in her eyes, "Marry me. Marry me again."
She couldn't answer, the tears that were running freely down her cheeks choking her voice. He frowned slightly and his expression only softened when she showed him a small smile through her tears, silently nodding her answer.
He stood up and took her in his arms. "I suppose that is a yes?" He whispered against her lips before they finally surrendered to the kiss both of them had yearned for. A kiss where love, passion and forgiveness sealed the certainty that what they felt for each other was something bigger than themselves.
They remained there for a long time in each other arms, whispering sweet endearments, completely forgetting about the time; just allowing themselves to heal the wounds, to wipe out all the pain, trying to rediscover who they were, who they had always been.
"I know now it is too late for an elopement," he finally said while he gently slid his hand up and down her back. She couldn't avoid a chuckle against his chest and could feel the smile forming on his lips, even without seeing his face. "But you can still go travelling with me. Around the world, just the two of us? What do you think?"
She raised her head, her worshiping eyes staring at him and could see that boyish grin playing on his lips prompting her to reward him with one of her own.
"It will be lovely. But-"
"No buts," he raised his brows and placed his forefinger on her lips preventing her from continuing. "You and me, for a couple of months, around the world. Or maybe we could run away to a comfortable chateau, miles away from everything. No daughters, no estate, no servants, no grandchildren..." At this, he stopped and frowned. "All right, they we will miss miserably. But then, maybe Sybbie can forget to call me 'donk'."
Cora started to giggle and he pretended to be offended, but joined her soon after, the sound of his hearty chuckle filling her heart completely. But then, he became serious, his eyes searching for hers when he leaned in to kiss her once more. He gently pulled her to him, pressing her body against his while his lips seemed to want to devour her, his tongue exploring her mouth, teasing her to no end, trying to prove her his point. When they finally broke the kiss, she felt as if her knees would give way.
"So?" He asked her with a wicked grin on his lips that matched perfectly the spark in his eyes.
"Well," she couldn't refrain a smile, "I guess they will survive without us, for a couple of weeks."
"Good. I-" he then stopped himself and his lips curved in soft grin. "We can think about the necessary arrangements tomorrow." She smiled and he brushed his lips gently against hers before whispering. "Right now, I don't want to think anything but you."