She shouldn't have said that. She shouldn't have said those things to Cora, not like that. Not in front of the rest of the family. He watched as Cora's soft, pretty features grew hard and cold before she lifted herself from the sofa and with rustling skirts stormed upstairs.

He knew he should follow her. Robert walked quietly and cautiously into Cora's room, clicking the door open to find his wife lying sprawled onto her bed, her face buried in a pillow. He took a breath in and slowly, very slowly, exhaled. Comforting her wasn't one of his strengths.

He entered the room with an "Oh, oh my dear…" and sat next to her on the bed. He put his hand gingerly on her back, the boning of her corset hard beneath his fingers. He offered the first of his assuagements. "Don't cry."

She didn't move. The lack of response put him off and he sat dumbly, but sympathetically, on the edge of her bed, his fingers still on her back. He tried again.

"It'll happen soon, I'm sure," he spoke as softly as he could, hiding his own fears beneath his calm exterior. "Mama is only anxious for an heir, but we're still quite young." He swallowed his doubt here, but continued. "I'm sure we'll have one eventually. Please don't cry, dearest."

Cora shook her head within the pillow and stilled. She mumbled something into the feathers and he struggled to make it out. "What's that?" He asked her, leaning down to hear her better.

She sat up with a jerk. "I'm NOT crying!"

Robert nearly fell off of the bed when she pushed past him, "Oh, I-" he fumbled for words when he saw the expression on Cora's face, one so very different from what he expected.

"She needs to stay out of it!" she yelled.

"Cora, she's part of our family. She only wants what we all want."

"But she is not a part of our marriage! This entire year has been about her hounding and hounding!"

"I quite agree, but-"

"Honestly! 'If only the American would give us a grandchild!'" Cora shouted in a rather clever impersonation of his mother's voice. He had to suppress a laugh. "What is that supposed to mean? Does she think I'm deliberately refusing to have a baby? Does she think I'm deliberately refusing you?"

Robert stumbled over some additional words, but he knew she wouldn't hear them. Not when she was this angry. "I'm not certain, but Cora-"

She balled her slender and delicate hands into hard fists. "She had the audacity to remind me that it wasn't a sin, 'now that we're married…' It's remarks like that. What kind of a girl does she take me for?"

"Cora-"

"Do you know what she asked me? Hmm?" Her eyes were something fiercely blue, wide with indignation.

He shook his head.

"If anything I've done in the past may be preventing conception! She suggests I see the doctor!"

Robert blinked. "Well…it's an understandable concern, dearest, and I'm sure she means well-"

"What?" Her voice was low and sharp, the question terse. At last she had heard him, but apparently what he said had been wrong. He tried to backpedal.

"I just mean, it can't hurt to…"

"You agree with her?" Cora stood straight and tall, her brows lowered and daring.

He didn't know what to say, what to do. Certainly his mother was rather harsh in how she handled things, but perhaps something was wrong! Not that it would be Cora's fault. Not that any of this was her fault, but perhaps…

"The doctor may be able to tell us if there is something that we should know, something we can do differently-"

Cora didn't let him finish. She didn't let him explain. "I'm tired." She said flatly. "Please leave." His mouth slacked open.

"Cora, darling…"

But she repeated herself, cooly, clearly, slowly, precisely. "Please leave."

"I-"

His breath hitched as her face grew more severe and reluctantly he left her room, slipping out into the dark hallway.