Je Ne Regrette Rien
A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.
As a young girl, it was common for Cora to daydream about her wedding. She was in love with the idea of being in love, with white dresses and diadems and long veils. She waited breathlessly for that feeling in her stomach, the rush of heat, the racing of her heart.
She was only seventeen when her mother sat her down and explained to her what would happen - that her rearing had not been to wed her to a local boy and force her to live in obscurity. She was destined for greater things - a bigger life - than even Cincinatti could give.
Ever obedient, Cora accepted the fate her mother laid out for her because she had been trained to since birth. She let slip away the ideals of love and the hopes for a passionate future.
She set sail on a steamer not long after her nineteenth birthday, headed not towards love but towards marriage.
There were very few expectations Cora held about marriage. What she knew came from her mother, and that was precious little. She was very ill-prepared for the realities of physical love, although not particularly frightened as her friends had been. Her mother explained to her that it would be a duty Cora was unlikely to enjoy at first, but that things would improve. Probably. Martha's own expression became distant and wistful as she silently recalled the early days of her union with Isidore.
So when Robert led Cora up to her bedchamber after the wedding, she was trembling with anticipation.
What followed was a blur that offered something of a disappointment. The act itself may have left much to be desired, or at the very least was entirely overrated, but her new husband's behavior leading up to it were forever ingrained in her mind and would give the entire night a rosy hue that Cora would remember fondly all her days.
Robert, obviously suffering from nerves of his own, was tentative. He pressed his lips gently to hers, traced them along column of her throat, and dipped into the hollow between her breasts. He did not remove the filmy material of her nightdress, but explored through the slippery fabric as though afraid to touch her skin bare. His fingers drew lazy patterns over her body as he charted her topography with his fingertips, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Her breath was shuddering when he pressed his fingers to her core to assure himself she was ready.
"I don't want to hurt you," He whispered against her hair, and she knew it to be true in all things. There simply wasn't an unkind bone in his body, and whatever the reasons for their union he wished to cause the least amount of pain, both physically and emotionally.
"I trust you," She had answered back, and he flinched, the heavy press of his manhood brushing against her thigh. When he did finally enter her, she couldn't quite suppress a slight whimper and he stilled, waiting for her to adjust. When she nodded, not entirely convincingly, he began to move.
It was over in moments, his weight pressing her into the down mattress and his breath gusting in her ear. He apologized hurriedly, avoiding the blood on the sheets, his skin paling as he realized exactly what he'd done. Cora tried to assuage him, but it seemed her concern was the last thing he wanted. With a muffled apology, and a kiss to her forehead, he nearly ran through the connecting door to his dressing room.
After that, that there hadn't been much time for anything else. Readying the couple for their Honeymoon was chaotic and it seemed to Cora that Robert took refuge in the bustle. Each night that passed without another attempt made the entire affair even more daunting.
In spite of the fact that she was fond of Robert - possibly even loved him - she had no illusions about his interest. The night they met he looked at her in her finery and saw, not a young woman, but the safety of his beloved Estate. What she was supposed to see in him was the legitimization of her parents' money. What she actually saw, however, was a dashing young man with a lovely smile who was respectful and kind. Unlike so many of his friends who were in a similar state of need for American cash, Robert at least attempted to make Cora feel comfortable and appreciated for more than her dowry. That he made an effort at all was attractive to her, and she allowed herself to be seduced by him.
She had (perhaps foolishly) thought that they would get through the period of adjustment together. She was willing to learn and hoped at least for kind fondness from her husband that would, maybe, morph into something more substantial over time. If nothing else, she believed they could be a functional partnership.
What she had forgotten to take into account was attraction, and the belated realization that she might not be exciting to him in that way. She was well aware that her secondary purpose was to provide a son for the Crawley family and had hoped her inexperience wouldn't be too much of a deterrent for her husband. Except he seemed no more interested in bedding her again than shaving his eyebrows. It wasn't as though she was overly keen to repeat that first night, all things considered. But it was a blow to her moderate self-esteem to think he did not find her alluring enough to try.