AN: I wanted to write more for this pairing and couldn't resist following on with What Happens In London. I've posted this as a new story because I want to leave What Happens In London as a story that can be read as a stand-alone piece. Thanks for reading.
Robert can't sleep. In fact, he's had trouble sleeping since he got home from London. Cora is lying beside him, her chest rising and falling with the even breaths of slumber. Robert envies her peacefulness right now, he's so tired but sleep just won't come. Fed up with tossing and turning and an unwillingness to wake Cora, see Robert rising from bed. Maybe a glass of milk would help but he can't bring himself to disturb any of the servants at this hour to fetch it for him. Pacing the room Robert chastises himself, is he a grown man or isn't he? Surely he can manage finding and pouring himself a glass of milk. Robert picks up his dressing gown from the chair he draped it across hours ago and wraps it around himself. He opens the door and peers out into the silent hallway, he can do this. Robert closes the door gently behind him, careful not to wake his wife.
xxx
Robert makes it to the bottom of the servant's stairs with no trouble. It is his house after all, why shouldn't he be able to find his way around it? Pleased with his progress so far Robert steps into the servant's hall, paying no heed to the faint light coming from the room. Robert stops in his tracks when he realises he's not the only one in the room. As his eyes adjust to the light Robert can see it's a man sitting at the table, smoking a cigarette. He has dark hair and pale eyes, which reflect the flickering candlelight in a melancholy way. Those eye's look at Robert with a haunting detachment which is far more affecting than it should be. Thomas brings the cigarette to his lips. For a moment Robert is lost in the memory of how those lips felt on his own. Thomas continues to watch him in that indifferent manner for a moment longer before blowing out a cloud of smoke and crushing his cigarette out. Thomas' eyes linger on the cigarette stub much longer than they need to. With the breaking of their eye contact, it's as though a spell is broken too.
"Anything I can get you My Lord?" Thomas asks, rising from his seat and only lifting his head to look at Robert when he says the words 'My Lord.' Robert is lost for words, it now strikes him as utterly ridiculous that he's skulking around down here at God knows what time in the morning. And now he's disturbed Thomas, who technically is off duty at the moment.
"Please," Robert says, motioning for Thomas to resume his seat, "I didn't mean to disturb you." Thomas sits again and takes another cigarette from its packet. He rests it between his lips and extends the packet towards Robert in an offering. Robert declines and Thomas drops the packet on the table so he can light the one in his mouth. It glows to life and Thomas draws in a deep breath of smoke.
"Trouble sleeping?" Thomas asks maintaining his air of indifference.
"Yes," Robert concedes with a sigh, helping himself to the seat opposite Thomas.
"Nothing's wrong I hope," Thomas says in a tone that implies he doesn't really care either way. And why should he? Robert asks himself. The privileged life of an Earl must be a thing servants find hard to pity.
"Nothing in particular," Robert replies vaguely and it's true. It's more a feeling of dissatisfaction that's settling on him, not wholly unlike what he experienced during the war. He doesn't want to go back to that dark and lonely place. Through his self-absorbed contemplations comes the realisation that he's not the only one out of bed at this hour and he wonders why Thomas isn't in his own bed sleeping. He takes in the fact that Thomas is still fully clothed in his under-butler attire.
"It's rather late to still be up," Robert states, hoping it will lead to an explanation.
"Can't sleep," Thomas says off-handedly, seemingly more focused on tapping the ash from his cigarette than the present conversation.
"Nothing's wrong I hope," Robert says echoing Thomas' earlier words. He succeeds in gaining Thomas' attention, the other man lifting his head to look Robert in the eye.
"Nothing in particular," Thomas answers bitingly, turning Robert's own tactic against him. Thomas' tone pierces Robert in a way it shouldn't. It's a mixture of unexpected hurt and indignation at being spoken to in such a way by a servant that causes Robert's temper to rise.
"I'm going back to bed," Robert announces, shoving his chair back. He doesn't look back but he can feel Thomas' gaze on him as he leaves.
xxx
Robert reaches for the handle of his bedroom door but hesitates with his hand poised over the knob. His irrational anger has drained away leaving a nagging uncertainty in its wake. Robert's hand drops to his side and he moves down the hallway to the next room; his dressing room. He enters and lies down on the bed telling himself that he's here because he doesn't want to wake Cora. The question is, does he believe himself too?