Give Those Back
Simon Bricker downed his sixth or seventh glass of whiskey in 45 minutes. He had never drank this much, and he knew that it was stupid of him to do so. He put the glass down on the table and rubbed his face lightly, sure that when he stood up, it wouldn't be for very long. Thankfully, there were things he could hold onto as he stumbled out of the library at Downton Abbey.
He couldn't help but blame Cora for being the reason he was so drunk. She had been flirting with him endessly, and then gone off to bed with her husband, giving him nothing more than a 'goodnight'. Yet, he held onto the hope that maybe she was waiting for him in his guest room.
He half-smiled to himself as he half-stumbled up the stairs, gripping the railing tightly to prevent himself from falling. Once he got to the top, he was too drunk to realized that he had turned the wrong way down the hallway.
Opening the door to the room he thought was the one he had been staying in, Simon was mortified when he saw the Earl of Grantham sleeping soundly on the bed. He finished walking into the room and noticed another body laying on the bed. To his surprise, it was Cora.
He couldn't believe his luck! He had walked into Cora's bedroom, and he was sure that this was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
He walked around the bed and caressed her hair gently, drawing a soft sigh from her lips. If her husband hadn't been in the bed with her, Simon would have climbed in on the other side, and surprised her when she awoke.
He couldn't help but imagine how beautiful her smile would be if she awoke and found him there.
Sneaking over to the chest of drawers on the other side, Simon pondered what he could do. If he took something small, chances were that neither Cora, nor her maid, would notice, right? Crouching down, he opened the bottom drawer quietly, trying to hide his excitement (lest he be discovered) at the sight of Cora's undergarments.
Had he been sober, he'd have done none of these things, but in his drunken state, she took a pair of her knickers from the drawer.
Closing the drawer with his trophy in hand, he stood up and turned around. He gasped lightly as the light on Lord Grantham's side turned on.
"Mr Bricker," Robert asked, his voice almost a growl, "what do you think you're doing in my wife's room?"
"I could ask you the same," Simon slurred, "you don't love her. Do you not trust her? Is that why you sleep in here?"
"I love my wife more than any other man ever could. I sleep in here because we enjoy being by each others sides," Robert replied, standing up from the bed. "I trust my wife, but I certainly don't trust you."
"You take her for granted. You don't appreciate her, and you certainly don't deserve her. I'd be so much better to her than you have ever been," Simon half-shouted, his hands curling into fists, crushing Cora's knickers with one of them.
"My marriage is none of your business! Return my wife's clothing at once, and ensure that you have left our home before Cora wakes in the morning," Robert shouted, his own hands curling into fists to match his opponents.
On the other side of the room, Cora stirred and turned her own lamp on before sitting up. "Robert, what's going on?" she asked, noticing Simon standing in front of her husband with a pair of her knickers in his hand. "Mr Bricker, what are you doing?"
"Cora, you don't need to pretend anymore. I know you feel the same way about me. I love you and I know you love me too," he said.
"You could not be further from the truth Mr Bricker," Cora replied, "return my undergarments and do as my husband wishes. And what I wish for you to do, which is leave."
"And it would be in your best interests if you never returned," Robert added.
"And what will the great Earl of Grantham do if I return?" Bricker slurred.
"How about I give you an idea," Robert snapped, stepping towards the man and punching him in the face and immediately leaving a mark on the man's cheek.
When the historian fell to the floor, Robert dropped to the floor and began to punch the other man over and over again. Cora quickly rounded the bed as Robert said with each punch, "keep-away-from-my-wife-you-bastard!"
Once Robert delivered a total of eight punches, Cora leaned down to her husband's ear.
"Robert, I think you can stop," she said, her voice quiet. Robert drew back and stood, looking at the man whose once reasonably handsome face was now covered in blood.
"What happened here?" Tom asked from the door, getting the attention of Robert and Cora.
"Mr Bricker made a truly horrible decision. He did something truly dispicable," Robert said.
"Something bad enough that you beat him up for it?" Tom asked, an eyebrow raised. Robert nodded slightly, getting a small chuckle from Tom. In all the time that he had known Robert, he'd not once seen the man resort to violence. He had a temper and could shout until he went hoarse, but he wasn't physically violent. Not even he had been punched when he and Sybil had decided to marry.
"I doubt he'll do it again," Tom reassured the man.
"He won't be able to, because he's never setting foot in this house ever again," Robert said, "Tom, would you help me get Mr Bricker back to his guest room?"
Tom nodded and went to Bricker's feet as Robert pulled Cora's knickers from the man's grasp, passing them to his wife. Together with Tom, he carried Bricker out the door of the Mercia bedroom, leaving the Countess behind.
The following morning, Simon Bricker awoke with a vicious hangover. His head was pounding, his vision blurred, and his mouth tasted the same way a graveyard smells. Feeling the urge to vomit, he rolled over.
"Good morning Sir," came the voice of the underbutler, Thomas Barrow. "Lord Grantham has asked me to ensure that you leave. Unfortunately, there are no cars available to take you to the station before the next train to London. You will have to walk, and I recomend you leave soon, your train is in two hours."
Simon groaned as memories of the previous night came flooding back to him. He would never see Cora again, and he knew that it would kill him inside. He promised himself silently that he would never get drunk again.