A/N: This was written in about an hour; I just wanted to get another Robert/Cora piece out there as I've been horrible negligent of them recently. And what better scene than my take on one coming up in one hour's time?
Disclaimer: I tried to buy Downton Abbey. They weren't interested in my meagre earnings.
Thank God For You
Robert sat on the edge of the bed, watching his wife flit busily around the room: picking up her hand lotion; moving her brush; her final night-time rituals before climbing into bed. How many years had he been graced with the opportunity to pick up her little idiosyncrasies, to catalogue each little movement that she made?
In light of all the news that he had received today, how many more were left?
It didn't bear thinking about.
Cora was humming to herself as she adjusted her hair a final time. Robert could hardly bear seeing her so overjoyed. Her mother was due to arrive at Downton Abbey tomorrow, and despite some of her trepidation – Mrs. Levinson was not an easy woman to entertain – he knew that Cora was excited. It had been many long years since she had last seen her in person. Once again, Robert was overwhelmed by how much Cora had sacrificed for Downton Abbey and their life together. He could never have given up what she had. Her bravery was incredible.
But now her sacrifices had been for nothing, and it was all his fault. That hurt more than anything.
Cora glanced over her shoulder at the man sitting on her bed. His elbows were resting on his knees, and his hands were clasped together under his chin. He looked as if he was in prayer. Under any other circumstances, the sight would have been an amusing one for her. Tonight, however, there was something rather disconcerting about the way in which his shoulders slumped, as though the weight of the world had collapsed on top of him, and he was unable to hold it up. Cora had always been able to read her husband well. After more than three decades of marriage, she knew every part of him intimately. He could never hide anything from her, even when he wanted to. And she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that something was clearly wrong.
"You've been very quiet today, dear," she commented lightly, knowing that it was vital to keep herself sounding jovial – otherwise, she knew, he would clamp down his defences at once.
"Have I?" She could tell he was trying for a similar tone, but it sounded shaky to her ears.
She nodded, crossing the room to his side.
"I suppose it's the thought of the wedding," he said. "It's not every day that your eldest daughter gets married, and the price of it all is rather making my head spin." It wasn't a lie. Mary had not spared any expenses – or rather, his expenses – when it had come to her nuptials. The dress itself had cost an extortionate amount that he could ill-afford, and that didn't take into account the rest of the wedding. Mary was unwittingly driving the family further and further towards the terrifying depths of bankruptcy.
Cora could sense the opportunity that had presented itself to her, and she wasn't about to squander it. "And are you sure nothing else is worrying you? You can tell me if there is. You do know that, don't you? I might be able to help you."
Robert's breath caught in his throat. He had been contemplating the carpet in front of him, but now he raised his gaze to his wife's face. She smiled reassuringly at him.
"Really, Robert," she encouraged gently, "if there is something that is bothering you, you can confide in me."
He was transported back to a scene over the New Year period, when he had asked Cora to tell him about any element of Mary's decision to stick with Carlisle that he might have overlooked. And she'd told him everything. God, the courage it must have taken to admit Mary's sins and her part in them to him, not knowing how he would react to the discovery. And now she was asking for the same courtesy, her face open and kind and affectionate.
Could he be as brave as her?
You have to be, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered. She's going to find out the truth sooner or later. It's better for her to hear it from you here and now rather than through gossip in the not-too distant future.
Yes, she had a right to know. She had a right to know every terrible detail.
Slowly, he reached out to take one of her hands in his. He hated the fact that it was trembling, and he hated it even more when Cora's expression transformed from one of gentleness to one of worry at the feel of it, even as she clasped it tenderly between her own.
"Robert?" she asked cautiously.
He knew he couldn't back down now. He owed her the truth. Taking a deep breath, he started to speak. "Cora, I'm so, so sorry." His voice was shaking.
"What? What are you sorry for?" She sounded bewildered, even a little scared. "Robert. What's happened?"
He swallowed hard. Here it was. The moment of truth. The point where everything changed inexplicably forever.
"The money's gone." His voice sounded distant, ethereal.
She sounded so confused. "What? What do you mean, the money's gone?"
"Your fortune," he said, and his voice cracked. "I've lost your fortune."
The silence that stretched on was almost unbearable. He couldn't bring himself to look up into her face; he knew that all he'd see reflected there would be contempt and disappointment. Cora had given up all rights to her own money when she had married him. She had entrusted it all to him to look after. Now she had nothing to show for it. Her hands, still clasped in his, were forgotten in her lap.
Finally, she stirred beside him.
"How much of my fortune is gone?" she asked. He looked up in surprise; he'd expected her tone to be weak and shaky. Instead, it is business-like.
"Almost all," he replied. He'd been trying to contain his tears, but now they started to fall from his eyes. They ran down his face, hard and fast, scouring it red. It was the sight of her husband losing control of his senses that led Cora to act.
Slowly, she shifted beside him, moving away. Robert's eyes were on her at once, wide and terrified, but she tried to smile reassuringly, tightening her grip on his hands. She sank to her knees in front of him and, keeping her eyes locked on his, brought his hand to her mouth.
The feel of her lips against them, so soft, so gentle, calmed him slightly, even as the tears continued to pour down his face.
"How?" she asked quietly.
Oh God, how could he tell her about his utter stupidity?
He swallowed hard. His mouth was dry. "I made an investment overseas. But today I've found out that it didn't pay off. I invested most of your fortune into it because I thought it would make us more money. But it hasn't worked out that way."
His sobbing began anew, loud and ashamed. What would she think of him now? How could she ever forgive him for making such a mistake?
And then, like she had so many times before, she completely stunned him.
"Hush, my darling," she said softly, rising up on her knees. She seemed reluctant to let go of his hand. "Please don't cry. It's all right."
"How can you say that?" he whimpered. "How can this possibly be all right?"
She leaned in, pressed her lips against his cheek. She lingered there, tasting the salt from his tears, feeling the warmth of his skin. Of course things weren't all right. She could barely comprehend the words that he had said to her. Her fortune. Gone. Completely gone. The reason for their peculiar marriage now non-existent.
But, somehow, it didn't matter. Because times had changed. Now there was more than just the pull of a title keeping her happy and content with her marriage. She loved her husband so much, every inch of him. All three of their children had been conceived through love rather than duty. At one time, she would've been concerned about such an unforeseen incident. And in some ways, she still was. But it wasn't her priority now. Robert was her priority, for better, for worse.
"These things have ways of sorting themselves out," she told him quietly, sitting back just slightly so that she could look into his face. "I'm more concerned about you. You're upset."
"Of course I'm upset," he sniffed. "I'm supposed to be the Earl of Grantham. What kind of earl gambles away his fortune? I'm a failure."
"Don't say such a thing." Her tone was sharp, and it made him meet her gaze. She softened then, disentangling one of her hands so that she could run it tenderly down his cheek. "You could never be a failure."
He leaned into her touch despite himself. "But how will we manage? What a laughing stock we'll be; an earl and countess with no means to pay for our titles. And we have more than ourselves to think about. We have my mother, our girls, Matthew, the staff."
"We'll find a solution, you'll see," Cora told him softly.
Silence reigned for a moment, before Robert raised a hand to rub his eyes.
"I thought you'd be angry with me," he said.
Cora managed a laugh. "My darling, I could never be angry with you. None of this is your fault."
"But if I hadn't gambled away the money –"
"It's just one of those things," she replied. "There was nothing you could do to control it. It's a tragic accident, that's all. It's happened, and nothing we do or say will change that now."
"You make it sound so trivial."
"I'm not naïve, Robert. I know it's not trivial; it's a huge blow. But we'll manage, that's what I'm trying to tell you. We've always managed, haven't we?"
He nodded. The tears were still falling. "We have. But I'm not sure what to do this time around."
"We'll think of something. It's been a huge shock. Perhaps if we sleep on it tonight, we'll be better equipped to deal with it tomorrow."
"I don't think sleep will be coming easily tonight," he said softly. "It's the sole thing I've been thinking about all day."
"Then you've got to let your mind rest," she said. "We'll try and come up with a solution together tomorrow."
"Why are you making it sound so inconsequential?"
She shrugged. "Because it's the only good way of looking at it."
"It's not so good for you," he said. His voice was wavering again. And as he looked at her, she could see the myriad of exhausting emotions playing over his face – terror, despair, worry. She knew that, despite everything, he was still worried about her reaction and what was to come in the future. She had to put those fears to the side at once.
"Don't worry about me. I'm an American. Have gun, will travel," she tried to joke, stroking his cheek again. And even though she hadn't said a thing, he knew exactly what she was saying: I love you, Robert. No matter what, I love you.
This time he was the one who raised her hand to his lips. A few more tears escaped from his eyes and dripped onto her skin. She didn't mind. Not in the slightest.
"Oh, thank God for you, anyway," he said. And she knew he meant it, with every fibre of his being. She smiled up at him, then rose to her feet so that she could sit next to him on the bed again. Sliding her arms around him, she pulled him to her chest, holding him tightly. His own arms came up around her back, holding her just as close to him. The flow of his tears was stemming now, and Cora was grateful for that. She hated seeing him so upset. She hadn't seen him as torn apart as that since those terrible few weeks after the loss of their unborn son. It was rather scary. Robert had always been a pillar of strength in her life.
But, sometimes, it felt good to be the one who could reassure him, to show him that things would turn out somehow.
"I love you, Robert," she murmured then.
He lifted his head from her shoulder. His eyes were shining. She didn't think he'd ever looked more handsome.
"I love you too," he replied softly, then bent in to kiss her. She responded adoringly, reassuring him with her mouth.
Robert didn't know how things would turn out. The worries for the future would return with a vengeance later on, of that he was sure. But just for now, he was content to let Cora hold him and heal him with her soothing touch.
A/N: And there we have it. The scene from the series will probably be better than this - at least I hope so!
Feel free to leave your thoughts! :)