"Now, keep your eyes covered, Robert. No peeking." Cora led her husband by the arm through the snow, glancing at him at intervals to make certain he still held his hand over his eyes.
"Why are we going to the barns?" he asked in some confusion.
Cora halted and stamped her foot, snow leaping up around her boot and coating it in white. "Robert Crawley," she exclaimed in irritation, "I told you not to peek!"
Chuckling, Robert kept his hand carefully over his eyes and shook his head. "I did no such thing, darling one. But I think you underestimate how well I know my own estate."
"Well," Cora conceded, tugging on his arm to get him to walk with her again and laughing faintly, "you have been living here for sixty-two years."
Robert groaned. "Don't remind me how old I am, Cora." He stepped lightly, enjoying having Cora's arm wrapped tightly around his.
"It's not as if I'm not older than you are, and you don't hear me complaining."
"No, my dear. You never complain about getting older. I should take a leaf out of your book concerning that." In fact, he often marveled at how graciously, how beautifully his wife wore her age. Her eyes still sparkled with an inner light. The wrinkles around them crinkled when she smiled in a way that made him want to press his lips to each one, because they indicated how happy they'd been over the past decade, despite the inevitable traumas life dealt them. Of course, he'd never let on, but he knew that her hair retained its glorious dark hue thanks to the little bottle of color in her dressing table drawer.
And, most wonderfully, she continued to exhibit great energy and dexterity. He grinned as he thought of some very particular examples of this.
"Robert, what might you be smiling at, pray tell?"
Pressing her arm, he equivocated smoothly, "Oh, I'm simply happy to be walking with you, sweetheart."
"Well," she said, "I like that then." She stopped them once more, grinning herself now at what stood before them. "You can look now, Robert."
Robert moved his hand and opened his eyes, fastening them on a handsome sleigh hitched up to one of their horses. A groom held the reins, patting the horse's neck to keep her calm. She twitched her head, and Robert heard the pealing of sleigh bells. The sleigh itself had been piled with blankets, greenery tied to the posts in the back of it.
"Do you like it, darling? I thought we could have a sleigh ride, since the snow is perfect for it." Her arm squeezed his in her excitement.
He chuckled and looked at her, all bright eyes and pink cheeks. "And just who is going to drive this sleigh for us, Cora?"
"I will," she piped up. "Papa taught me that first winter I was here, remember?"
Shaking his head, he kept grinning. "I suppose that slipped my mind." He examined the sleigh, his brows drawing together in thought. "This sleigh looks familiar to me."
"It was the one Mama and Papa used to take their drives in together. It had fallen into complete disrepair, but I had it fixed and outfitted for us to use. Doesn't it look just like new?" Cora withdrew her arm from his and stepped over to the groom to take the reins. With a nod and a final pat to the horse, the groom departed. Cora held the reins between her gloved hands, smiling at him.
Robert's face softened into a nostalgic smile as his eyes ran along the curves of the sleigh. "Yes, it does, Cora. I'd forgotten they used to do that. To get away from us, I'm sure." He chuckled and looked at his wife. "Why now?"
Cora tilted her head and shrugged. "You keep saying how much you'd like to have an afternoon alone. With all the children in the house –"
Closing his eyes, Robert passed a gloved hand over his brow. "God love them, they're a joy, but Christmas always riles them up. And they've been especially trying this holiday – and it's nearly a week after New Year! If I have to mediate one more argument between George and Charlie or tell Sybbie not to terrorize little Violet, I'll scream. And Rosy has simply decided that bouncy horsey on Grandpapa's knee is the only thing that will make her happy anymore. And don't get me started on the others... They're wearing me out, Cora!"
"Well, darling, this afternoon – and perhaps more afternoons if you enjoy this – you get your time away from them. I suppose in the same way your parents got away from us. I hope you don't mind having one person's company, however. Since you don't know how to drive the sleigh." She grinned at him as he opened his eyes and smiled.
Robert closed the distance between them and bent to press a sweet kiss to her lips. "Being alone with you is a far better treat than simply being alone, my love."
"I'm happy to hear that, Robert. Shall we?" She gestured toward the sleigh, her brows raised with mirth.
Pressing another kiss to her cheek, he helped her into the sleigh, then went around the back of it to slip beneath the blankets himself.
"Thank you, darling," Cora said brightly when Robert tucked the blankets securely around her. Chirruping to the horse, Cora flicked the reins, and the animal walked them around the barns and then began trotting through the snow.
Robert slid an arm around Cora's shoulders, rubbing his hand over her upper arm through her coat. Her expert maneuvering of the sleigh fascinated him; over four decades had come and gone since Papa had taught her to drive, and they'd not had many opportunities to utilize her knowledge.
"I suppose we won't be ending up in a drifted bank, the way you are handling this, Cora," he remarked, his voice raised above the melodic jingle of the bells on the horse's harness.
"Why would you say that?" She glanced around at his wide grin.
"Oh, you know, from the song. When they go for a ride in that one-horse open sleigh and get caught in a bank?" He chuckled, sidling closer to her on the low seat.
Cora laughed, a musical peal that rose over the sound of the bells. "Well, I certainly hope we don't. Only the groom knows we've gone out in the sleigh."
"I rather like that, actually." He fell silent, alternately taking in the scenery of the estate as they glided along and watching the precise flicks of Cora's wrists as she guided the horse's turns. It was peaceful, serene, and he smiled as the distance between them and the rowdy children grew.
After a while, Cora pulled on the reins, calling out a low "whoa" for the animal to halt and stand still. Robert looked around, momentarily confused at their stop, but his brow cleared after he recognized where they were.
"Our favorite tree," he said, smiling at her.
She nodded, wrapping the reins around the hooks in the front of the sleigh. "I thought it would be nice to see it covered in snow like this. It's been a long time since we did."
"That Valentine's Day nearly ten years ago, if I'm remembering correctly." He caressed her face, running his thumb over her cheekbone.
Biting her lip, Cora blushed and lowered her lashes. "You are. We walked here that time though." She raised her eyes and lifted a hand to brush gloved fingers through the silver hair at his temple.
"I loved that. And I love this too." He pressed a soft kiss to her jawline, then held her gaze. "And I love you. Thank you for this."
Her fingers curled around his hand, wringing it gently. "And the afternoon isn't over yet, darling." Twitching the blanket aside, she left the sleigh before Robert could say anything.
Removing the blanket from across his lap, he backed out of the sleigh. The next thing he knew, a snowball had hit him square in the chest, the snow falling onto the ground at his feet. He looked up to see his wife's smirk, her eyes glittering as she fashioned a second snowball between her gloves.
Robert scraped his hand through the snow, gathering enough of it to form a large ball. "Two can play at that game, you minx," he laughed.
But as he sent the snowball flying in her direction, she effortlessly evaded it, sticking her tongue out at him and hurling another his way. Not as quick as she, apparently, Robert tried to dodge it, letting out a profane exclamation when it crashed into his arm. Cora laughed at him and danced upon her toes in triumph. The horse turned its head, shaking it with a whiny, as if rolling her eyes at their antics.
"You might need to get your eyes checked, darling," Cora sang out, creating another neat snowball and, side-stepping his next offering gracefully, chortled when hers collided solidly with the back of his neck, Robert having bent again to collect more snow.
"Bloody hell, woman, that's cold!" he shouted, rubbing the bare skin vigorously and shaking the snow from his hair and off his scarf.
"Robert, it's snow. It's meant to be cold, silly." She continued to dance around on the tips of her boots, utterly enchanting in her merriment. "Even Rosy knows that. And she can barely walk," she chirped.
Shaking his head, Robert made another snowball and stepped closer to her. Cora saw him move and began backing away, grinning wildly, beginning to giggle. He raised the snowball, and she turned, running.
"No, Robert!" she giggled. "You can't get me!"
"We'll see," he called out, his breath producing visible clouds of steam that trailed out behind him as he crunched through the snow after her.
Cora wove back and forth, unwilling to give him a steady target. She kept laughing, panting with the effort of eluding him. She gained their tree and hid behind the trunk. For a moment, she heard nothing. Worried at this sudden silence, she cautiously leaned around the trunk, saying, "Robert?"
That's when Robert struck, throwing the snowball into her chest. With a pronounced, "Gah!" Cora fell backwards into the snow.
Panicking, thinking he'd hit her too hard, he rushed to her side, yelling, "Cora? Darling? Are you alright?" He knelt beside her.
Suddenly, her arms shot up and grabbed him about the waist, pulling him down on top of her. "Well, I had thought about making a snow angel," she explained, "but this is better." She observed his astonishment transform into a smile and held him closer, tilting her head up to crush her lips to his.
Robert slipped a hand from its glove, placing it just below her ear and tracing a finger along her jaw. When she'd ended the kiss, he murmured. "I already have a snow angel." Slipping his other arm under her waist, he rolled them over, and he grinned up at her. "You have snow in your hair," he whispered.
"I'm not surprised," she replied, leaning down to rub her lips lightly over his, her gloved fingers beneath his chin.
"Well, this certainly has a way of making a man feel young again." Robert smiled at her. "In addition to being far from children shrieking 'Grandpapa!' at the top of their voices."
Cora's visage became tender, her eyes softening as she ran the fingers of her other hand over his coat lapels underneath her. "A grandpapa you may be, my love, but that doesn't mean you – we – aren't still young."
Capturing his lips again in a heated kiss, Cora set out to prove it to him.