Disclaimer: Nothing of this is mine. (Well, the way I've arranged the words is very much my own, and for that I can only apologise...)
These characters belong to Julian Fellowes and ITV.
Job done.
Enjoy!
What had started as drizzle had quickly transformed into a downpour, water falling in heavy sheets against the windscreen. The noise of the fat drops battering the roof was positively deafening, and Cora was supremely grateful when Branson guided the car to a halt at the side of the road.
"I'm sorry, m'lady, but it's too risky to continue at the moment."
"Oh, I quite agree, Branson. Absolutely, we must stop." Cora replied somewhat distractedly, as she peered through the window at her side and into the deluge beyond the glass. She turned her attention back to the chauffeur.
"Do you think we'll have to wait long?"
Branson's expression turned apologetic, "Certainly looks like the rain has settled in, m'lady. It might ease off, but I would say it won't've stopped by dark, and there's still a way to go yet; I wouldn't feel comfortable covering so much distance on wet roads at night."
"No, nor would I. Let's wait awhile - it can't possibly continue quite like this for much longer; there isn't enough water in the whole of England for that! When it's manageable, we'll look for somewhere to spend the night. There's bound to be something suitable nearby."
"Very good, m'lady."
Settling back in her seat, Cora turned her attention to the woman occupying the seat beside her.
"O'Brien, you're very quiet."
"Did you require my opinion, m'lady?"
Cora narrowed her eyes at the tone, shifting to more fully face her maid.
"No, but that has rarely stopped you before."
The maid sighed, and drew in a calming breath. Cora's head had a challenging tilt to it, and Sarah regretted the sharpness of her tone immediately; a quarrel would do no one any good, particularly not in such a confined space and over nothing of consequence.
"I'm...sorry, m'lady. I didn't mean to speak as I did. I have a headache, and..."
O'Brien trailed off, suddenly unable to continue. Her eyes closed briefly in a wince, and Cora's expression swiftly softened, transforming into one of sympathy.
Looking more closely, she could see now how pale her maid was. O'Brien's lips were pinched and her brow was drawn tight with discomfort, and Cora cursed herself for not having noticed sooner.
"Dear O'Brien. You should've told me you were suffering so badly - you must think me heartless!"
Without much thought, she reached across the space between them and ran her fingers across her maid's furrowed brow, as she had so often done for Robert when he had complained of such a pain.
O'Brien did her very best not to lean too obviously into the touch, but could not prevent her eyes from drifting closed when the Countess pressed a cool and soothing palm against her forehead. The agony behind her eyes receded slightly as she allowed herself to focus on the fingertips gently tracing slow circles at her hairline.
The peace she felt could not last forever, though. Inevitably, reality crept back in and one agony was swiftly replaced by another as the familiar ache in her chest swelled. There was a time when tears would have threatened at being shown this degree of affection from her lady, but not now.
Not after so long.
"No, m'lady. Never heartless. There's nothing to be done about it 's'all, and I know how keen you are to be home; I'd feel much worse knowing I'd caused a delay, m'lady. Honestly, I'm perfectly well."
The Countess' hand trailed down to cup her cheek and Sarah fought the almost overwhelming urge to press her lips into the palm.
Cora's look was both fond and skeptical as she replied, "Be that as it may, I'm now doubly glad we're breaking our journey. You must rest."
The resignation Sarah felt when presented with these shadows of what she truly wanted was always accompanied by fondness - it wasn't Cora's fault that her maid had a foolish, lonely heart, that leapt ridiculously in her chest every time her mistress so much as looked at her - and Sarah would always do her best to make sure that Cora never noticed that she was so often doing her maid more harm than good with her attention and concern.
The small guesthouse was the best Branson had been able to find given the limited choice. Casting an appraising eye around the homely features of the foyer, it certainly appeared suitable enough, if not nearly as grand as she was used to. Besides, it was only for one night, and she was more than willing to forego a little luxury if it meant O'Brien got some much-needed rest.
She discreetly glanced across at her maid, knowing she wouldn't appreciate too much sympathy; the poor woman looked so drained and Cora dearly wished that there was a seat she could order her into.
Her musings were interrupted by Branson's reappearance; he'd been discussing their requirements with the owner, and had returned with an apologetic look on his face - it seemed to Cora that he was very much destined to wear that expression today.
"I'm sorry m'lady, but it seems they don't have the space to accommodate us satisfactorily."
"But they do have space?"
"Well, he did suggest..." The chauffeur trailed off.
"Branson?"
"There is one room available, m'lady. He suggested that if you were willing to share with Miss O'Brien, that he would permit me to sleep in the kitchens if I was amenable."
"And are you? I shouldn't like to see you uncomfortable, Branson."
"I am, m'lady. It's preferable to a night in the car, there's no denying that."
"Then I think that all sounds acceptable - and I don't see that we have much choice. Tell him we'll take the room and thank him for his hospitality. Oh, and arrange to have our bags brought in, too."
"Yes, m'lady."
"M'lady, I am quite capable of assisting you further. If you would just let me -"
"O'Brien, sit down!" Cora spoke with more force than she had intended, but it was certainly effective; she watched in the mirror as O'Brien's hands ceased their hovering behind her head and dropped meekly to her sides.
Obediently, but not without a sullen expression that had Cora biting back a smile, the maid shuffled in the direction of the high-backed chair across the room.
"There are a great many things I am unable to do, but unpinning my hair is not on the list. I feel badly enough that I needed you to undress me."
Sarah sighed, sinking unwillingly into the chair beside the bed. It hadn't looked particularly comfortable when she'd given it a cursory glance earlier, and now she had first-hand evidence that her assumptions had been disappointingly accurate. The stuffing was lumpy and unevenly spread, and she could feel the frame through the padding in places. Still, the sooner she got used to it the better if she was going to be spending the night in it.
"Why don't you get ready for bed, O'Brien? There's no need to wait for me."
"I'd rather stay as I am, m'lady."
"Nonsense. You must change. I refuse to let you get into bed dressed like that."
Into bed? Cora wasn't actually suggesting that she...that they would...Oh, god.
"And don't even dare tell me you were planning to sleep in that hideous chair."
"But, m'lady..."
"No, absolutely not. There's more than enough space for us to share. How would I feel, do you imagine, knowing I was the cause of your further discomfort? You're unwell, and you need a good night's sleep."
Sarah stood slowly and made her way over to her trunk to fetch her nightclothes, the cruel irony of Cora's words ringing in her ears. She turned her attention to the fastenings of the luggage, sincerely hoping that Cora hadn't noticed the doubtlessly glaring look of despair on her face.
"Yes, m'lady."
Finishing with her hair and climbing into bed, Cora tried not to stare too obviously as her maid readied herself for bed. The occurrence was such a novelty, however, that she couldn't help but look...as surreptitiously as she could, of course.
The only other women she'd seen in their underclothes had been her own flesh and blood, and what her maid might look like beneath those horribly drab clothes had never before crossed her mind, yet now, she could hardly contain her interest.
O'Brien's underthings were naturally much plainer than even the most functional of Cora's clothes, but the Countess found that that was not what drew her focus as she had thought it would.
The flare of O'Brien's hips narrowing to the neatly cinched waist was a revelation. Her maid's figure was so very different to her own more willowy frame, and she couldn't help but feel that women like Sarah O'Brien were whom corsets were designed for. She could see the roundness of her breasts straining above the line of her corset through her chemise, and she quickly averted her eyes as her maid untied the tidily knotted cords at her waist and tugged at the lacing until she had slackened the restrictive garment sufficiently to unhook the claps at the front.
Her mouth suddenly dry, Cora shifted in the bed, moving to lie down more fully. Turning onto her side, she pulled the sheets up to her chin, and swallowed a groan as she realised too late that she was now in a position to watch O'Brien more freely (and less obviously) in the mirror.
Pulling her nightgown over her head, Sarah sat down at the dressing table and went about the task of unpinning her hair. She hoped dearly that the lessened pressure would ease the throbbing that still persisted behind her eyes, but did not relish the effort her hair always required in the evenings.
Upon removing the final pin, she let her hair fall down her back in a twisted rope. The first part of her nightly ritual accomplished, she paused; resting her elbows on the table before her, she pressed her fingers into her temples, and closed her eyes momentarily against the flickering pain.
Her eyes flew open at the feel of fingers brushing her shoulder, and looking up she met Cora's worried gaze in the mirror.
"O'Brien...let me."
It wasn't until the Countess began to untwist her hair and separate the strands that Sarah realised what she meant. Unable to respond, her voice having fled at the first brush of Cora's fingers at the nape of her neck, Sarah could do nothing but submit to the touch.
Closing her eyes once again, she allowed herself a usually forbidden luxury; to pretend that this touch meant more. It was only rarely that she indulged in such foolishness, knowing that the pain brought about by the reality of her situation would only be sharper when she returned to it.
But she needed this; she needed something, and she would cherish this feeling. In the end, it would be all she had left of her lady.
Cora had been unable to rest, seeing O'Brien in such pain, and at least this was something she could do for her.
Her maid took such good care of her, was so good to her, that this was really the least she could do to repay her.
Pulling the newly-combed tresses into three of the most even sections she could manage, Cora began to braid. Goodness, she had never thought O'Brien's hair would be so long! It certainly never seemed so when it was piled atop her head. Her fingers were unused to braiding for so long in one go, and lacked the dexterity required; the Countess feared the resulting plait would not be as neat as her maid preferred, but at least O'Brien had not had to suffer through doing it herself.
Upon finally reaching the end, she laid the hair gently over her maid's shoulder and rested her hand beside it momentarily in a gesture of comfort. Running her fingers down O'Brien's arm, Cora took her hand and tugged her over to the bed.
"I think once we put out the light, you'll be able to rest easier."
Sarah very much doubted that, given the situation, but would not dare upset Cora by giving voice to her disbelief. Instead she offered a small smile, and turned back the covers at her side of the bed.
"I'm sure you're right, m'lady."
It was still dark when she awoke.
The sound of the rain beating against the windows was absent, and the night was still. She cast around for what had caused her to awaken, and as the haze of sleep began to clear, the unfamiliar sensation of an arm wrapped about her waist made itself known. Twisting in the embrace, reality came flooding back as she found herself nose to nose with Cora Crawley.
Never did she think she'd ever be this fortunate.
The warmth of the embrace flooded through her, and she felt tears prick at her eyes.
It didn't matter that the Countess was unaware of her actions, Sarah valued the comfort nonetheless, and she would cherish the closeness as long as she was able. Running her eyes over the perfect, moonlit features of the other woman, she sighed in contentment. Gently lifting her arm, she gingerly placed it around her mistress, mirroring their positions, and smiled when Cora shuffled closer in her sleep.
For tonight, Cora was very nearly hers, and it would have to be enough.
Cora dreamt of smooth, pale skin.
There were legs...soft, firm thighs, wide hips...she could see her own hands, reaching out to full breasts. There was a sudden, throaty laugh, a soft smile, and long, brown hair...
She awoke with a gasp, her heart racing.
Quickly discerning her position, the stimulus for her dream became very clear. At some point in the night, she had pulled her maid flush against her; one hand was wrapped tightly across her chest, whilst the other had trailed between O'Brien's thighs. She had the material of her maid's nightgown bunched and gathered above her wrist, and her fingers were...oh, God. How had this happened?
O'Brien moaned quietly in her sleep, shifting restlessly against Cora's hand, and the Countess instinctively dragged her fingers further through the slick folds of her maid's sex, groaning at the sensation.
This was wrong, so very wrong.
She gently removed her hand, eliciting a whimper from the woman in her arms, and made to pull back entirely when she was startled by O'Brien's voice, breathier than she'd ever heard it,
"Please, m'lady...Please, don't stop."
Cora could only watch, wide-eyed, as O'Brien turned her head to meet her gaze; her eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, and her lips were parted and gasping.
"Please, Cora."
The Countess was helpless as O'Brien took her hand and guided it back to where it had been moments before.
"I need you."
The plea cut through her hesitation - she had started this, however unintentionally, and it would be deeply unfair to leave her maid aching.
Resolved, she grasped O'Brien's thigh and lifted the leg up and back so that it was braced behind her own. Her hand trailed back between the now widely-parted thighs, and she ran one finger through the wet, swollen folds of her maid's sex. O'Brien whimpered at the contact, her fingers flexing against the sheets as Cora circled her entrance, before pushing two fingers deep inside her and quickly curving them forwards towards the bone. Cora pulsed her fingers quickly, feeling her maid's climax building rapidly, and brought her other hand down from its grasp on the other woman's breast, to rub relentlessly at the throbbing bundle of nerves at the apex of O'Brien's thighs.
Sarah came with a silent cry, her hips flexing against Cora's hands, as she desperately tried to prolong the exquisite sensation.
This was a dream, it had to be.
Her headache had clearly become so bad that she'd started to experience delusions, because there was absolutely no way that she could feel her mistress' lips on her neck and her long fingers twisting inside her. She sagged back against the warm body of the Countess, her pulse thrumming loudly in her ears.
If this was a delusion, it was a thousand times better than reality, and she damn well planned to make the most of it!
Shifting out of Cora's embrace, she turned so that she was facing her. Leaning forward, she captured the other woman's lips with her own, as her hands dragged Cora's nightgown up until she had revealed the smooth, pale flesh of her mistress' thighs. Sarah kissed a trail down Cora's neck, each gasp and whimper bolstering her confidence, as she grasped Cora's knees and parted her legs.
"O'Brien?" Sarah met her eyes, the desire she saw there making her braver than she ever thought she'd be.
"Sarah, m'lady. I'd like you to call me Sarah."
Her touch was sure as she dipped her head and parted the folds of Cora's sex with her tongue, relishing the inevitable shriek of delight.
They had fallen asleep tangled together, exhausted and euphoric.
It was only later as Sarah sat curled up in the bedside chair, watching Cora as she slept, that she let the quiet despair creep in. How could she have allowed this to happen?
This was it; this was how it would end for them.
She had taken advantage of her mistress - had corrupted her with her desires - and Cora would not want to be reminded of her infidelity every day.
Sarah could picture her dismissal so clearly. Cora would be apologetic, of course, but unable to meet her eyes. She would explain that these circumstances, this complication, had necessitated she seek a new maid. She would thank her for her years of service, offer her a shining reference, and Sarah would be gone from Downton within days.
Or perhaps Cora would be unwilling to even travel back with her...perhaps she would dismiss her immediately come morning?
It made no difference. Not really.
Regardless of the route she took, the destination was always going to be the same - a life dulled and miserable without her lady. Sighing, she swiped at her eyes, ridding them of the tears that had sprung forth. Light was beginning to seep into the room through the gaps around the curtains...time marched cruelly on, mindless of her broken heart.
Sarah hated herself for this weakness; it wasn't her, wasn't who she was, and yet...the feelings that churned within her were unsurpressable now that she'd been given the chance to love Cora in the way she had long wanted to.
She ran her eyes desperately over the features of the woman before her; Cora looked so beautiful in the half-light of dawn, and Sarah wanted to remember her exactly this way.
The first sob escaped her lips unbidden and she hastily pressed her hand to her mouth in a futile attempt to cease the noise. Her tears came thick and fast, and she shook with the effort of containing her grief.
Oh god, what was she going to do without her?
Cora shifted restlessly in her sleep, something tugging at her subconscious, pulling her towards awareness.
She blinked awake, squinting in the dawning light.
Something was wrong; she was colder than when she'd - they'd - fallen asleep, and she dazedly reached across the bed to where she expected Sarah to be, finding the space disappointingly empty. Shaking off her sleepy stupor more fully and glancing quickly about the room, it didn't take long to locate the other woman; the sight of her maid shaking with sobs made her ache with concern, and her chest tightened.
She couldn't bear to see the other woman hurting.
Feelings she had not previously acknowledged bubbled to the surface - she needed to be closer to Sarah. Needed to fix this.
Twisting her legs beneath her, she rolled and knelt facing where Sarah sat. The maid had her hands up, desperately trying to hide her face and the evidence of her sorrow. Cora leant towards her, arms instinctively seeking to offer comfort.
"Oh, Sarah! No, oh...come here."
She tugged at the maid's arm, pulling at her hands until she could see her face.
"Please, please don't cry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...I shouldn't have...You have to forgive me."
Her maid merely shook her head in response, her breath coming in broken gasps as she tried to control her tears. Cora's hands loosened her grip on her at the gesture; she had done this, she had made Sarah miserable.
"Don't...please don't hate me, Sarah. I understand if you want...if you want to leave, but...I...I'm..."
She found she couldn't continue as her own tears overwhelmed her.
At the first sign of Cora's distress, Sarah crawled from her position in the chair onto the bed and clutched at her mistress, feeling the reverberations of her own sobs mirrored in the chest of the other woman as she clung back just as tightly.
This was all such a mess.
She knew now that Cora would not dismiss her - without each other they would both be miserable, that much was clear.
"I could never hate you, m'lady. An' I'll not leave you, not so long as you want me with you."
She pulled the Countess closer, running a soothing hand up her back and tangling it in her hair.
"But I wish I knew what to do."
Cora sniffed by her ear, and pushed her face deeper into the maid's neck with a murmured, "Me too."
When they next awoke, it was in each other's arms.
They might not know what the future held for them, but as they dressed and prepared for their return to Downton, it was with the certainty that they would be together for as long as they were able.
And that counted for something.
It had to.
The end!
Loved it? Hated it? Please, let me know.
x