Either two or three chapters, undecided yet! Enjoy Xx

He had snuck up to her private parlour in the late afternoon with a frown upon his face.

"Robert, what on earth has happened?"

He sighed and took a seat close to her on the love seat, "nothing important darling, just tired I suppose." She put down her book and turned more fully to face him, "yes I suppose it has been a trying few weeks hasn't it." He made a small noise and sank back further into the couch, deflated.

She leant towards him, her dress pulling away slightly from her décolleté as she did so, her voice a warm whisper, "Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

He eyed her carefully, as though not fully trusting her motives, "Cora…"

"Yes darling?" she replied innocently.

It was unspoken to them by now; they had been married for too long to not know what would more than likely happen next. And they hadn't for awhile, so really it was bound to happen sooner rather than later if she had anything to do with it. He leant away from her and reached down to place a large hand on her knee, pushing up her dress slightly in the process. He ran his hand down the length of her stocking clad calf and her breath caught as he pulled her right foot into his lap. A smile, a real one this time spread across his face as he began to press his fingers into the top of her foot, his fingers somehow making their way into the T- straps of her shoes.

God she had missed this, they had just been so busy lately and distant and…, god that felt good.

Her left leg was hanging off the couch leaving her in a very much exposed position. She could feel her breath quicken as he began to gently undo her shoe, she felt strangely exposed and he had barely touched her. He turned to look at her now, his eyes had taken on a glassy quality which she knew too well.

"Robert." It came out as more of a growl than anything else and he raised his eyebrow at her as he slipped her foot out of her shoe with one hand and managed to run the other up her thigh beneath her now pooled up dress. Her shoe fell to the floor with a dull thud and he pulled her other leg into his lap slowly repeating the process, his hand catching on her shoe buckle and then he stopped… What was he doing?

Oh. She had forgotten about that. But how was she to know that they would be doing this now? What did it even matter?

"It's just nail varnish Robert." He proceeded to take that shoe off as well and couldn't seem to decide whether to look at her feet or her face.

Perhaps the garnet shade she had chosen was a mistake, but she liked it at the time. Rose had been so encouraging and she could admit she had been caught up in the moment, it was fun, something different. He still hadn't spoken; in fact he was turning the same colour as the nail varnish as she spoke. She swung her legs off his lap and wiggled her stockinged toes into the plush carpet trying to hide them from his gaze. "Rose thought it might be a fun idea while we had our hair done."

"A fun idea."

"Robert, you're being ridiculous." She shuffled across the couch and placed a gentle hand on his thigh which he quickly brushed off.

Words seemed to come back to him, although she soon wished they hadn't. "You know Cora, with everything else changing in my life; I thought at least my wife would remain a constant."

She took in a heavy breath and stood, she knew how hard it was for him to face change, but this was different. She should have known the moment he walked into the room. Turning to stand in front of him while he still sat she leant down very carefully and pressed a kiss to his forehead, he didn't respond, choosing to cross his legs over what she knew to be a pressing hardness in his trousers.

"Fine." She spun in her place but was stopped by his words, which he had tried and failed to mutter under his breath.

"I hope you manage to remove that before the guests arrive."

Sometimes she didn't know how they managed to remain happily married for so many years. She grit her teeth, speaking lowly, "It's nothing major Robert, it's in fashion now."

"I don't care if it's in fashion, I don't see why you should need to do that."

"Rose wanted to and…" this was going nowhere and they had guests arriving this afternoon. "I can take it off if it bothers you so much."

"No." he was speaking to her as if she were a child now and she could feel the anger building within her, his tone mocking her, "No, by all means leave it on, why don't you just come down to dinner in your stockings and show everybody how fashionable the Countess of Grantham is."

A thump and then another.

Mary paused in her writing and lay down her pen to listen. In fact, it sounded like people were yelling, a muffled yelling to be precise.

Most probably her parents, although she loathed to think why, she had heard several stories which one might never wish to hear of their parents. A smashing now, perhaps a vase and from what sounded like her mother's sitting room and then her mother's voice, loud and angry and indistinguishable. Mary got up with a frown and walked toward the commotion, surely someone should check on them?

"Lady Mary." It was Carson looking concerned and walking at an equal pace as her toward the noise. It had gone quiet now and they both looked at the door as though concerned one might have murdered the other, or worse.

"Do you think I should…"

"No Milady, just wait."

Mary knew it was rude to eavesdrop, but her parents never fought like that and it worried her that they should be yelling so close to the arrival of their guests. The door being pushed open interrupted her thoughts as both she and Carson stepped back, as though afraid of what might appear before them. They didn't have to wait long before her father's angry voice could be heard, much louder this time, "Cora,"

And then her mother, her very angry looking mother appeared, "Ohh do be quiet Robert!"

Cora walked out of the door, pulling it silently shut behind her and then noticed the two people wearily watching her. They looked her up and down as though searching for injury and then Mary tilted her head in realisation, "Where are your shoes?"

"Why don't you ask your father." She snapped, turning to walk up the hallway to her bedroom, silently slipped inside.

Mary looked to Carson, wondering what to do next, obviously her father was still in the room, although she was loath to speak to him. His temper was atrocious and he was obviously upset about something. Before they had a chance to make a decision he slipped out of the room, saving her the trouble, ignoring both Mr Carson and her, stomping to his room and slamming the door behind him.

Mary turned to their Butler with a slightly perplexed look on her face, "I'll have Edith help me with the arrivals and I will make their excuses, I doubt they will be in any shape to receive people this afternoon."