A/N: I'm sorry this is so late and so short! It's almost Christmas Day and Downton Day here! I've really become so completely submerged by academia at the moment and I can only see more of that in the future, but it's something that pleases me although unfortunately leaves me much less time to write! Anyway, my prompt word was respite and my picture is in the icon.

Although Robert has carefully planned this evening, and what he will say to his wife, he cannot help feeling nervous as he walks from his dressing room down to the drawing room. Tonight will be the first night he and Cora will have dinner alone – during their honeymoon they always ate in hotels and restaurants, surrounded by people, and in the six months that have passed since their marriage they have been taking dinner with his parents. To mark the event, he thought it would be nice for them to take dinner in her bedroom, as in a more relaxed setting they will be able to talk openly, and with Christmas coming he has been writing to her parents, but as he runs through the idea again in his mind he fears it sounds ridiculous, risqué even.

When he enters the drawing-room, Cora is alone, sitting on the settee reading her book, and to his surprise she has removed her gloves and is even sitting with her legs crossed at the ankle, which Rosamund used to do as a child before she was severely reprimanded by their Mama. However, as soon as he enters she looks up at once and jumps slightly in surprise, drawing on her gloves and uncrossing her legs whilst murmuring an apology.

'Oh, don't apologise,' he says quickly. Damnit, he wants her to be as comfortable with him as she was a moment ago without him. 'This is your home too, Cora.'

She looks confused, and with good reason he thinks, so he takes a seat next to her on the settee.

'I thought we might have dinner upstairs tonight, since Mama and Papa are away,' he explains, and her eyes widen. 'It was just an idea,' he amends quickly, and she can see he is slightly crestfallen by her reaction. 'We can eat in the dining room as usual, if you-'

'No, it's a lovely idea,' she says gently, and this time he is the one to be surprised. 'I had been hoping we could do something like that.' Cora's calm tone, however, merely masks her bemusement. Robert, although he is always polite when they are alone together, has never suggested he would like to be alone together more, and she has almost completely given up dreams of him spending a whole night with her.

'Really?'

'Well, I enjoy spending time with you, and we haven't recently,' she admits, a blush colouring her cheeks.

He is relieved by her answer, and also pleased by her statement, since it echoes his own sentiments.

When Cora enters her bedroom, she cannot help but gasp, for a table has been bought up and is set delicately, and the room itself is lit by candles which she cannot help but feel give it a romantic glow.

'It took a while to set up,' he explains. 'That's why I had to ask Carter to ensure you were in the drawing room early-'

'Carter knew?' she enquires.

'Of course Carter knew,' he says in a way that sounds as though he is teasing her, and she smiles.

'This is lovely,' she says softly, once they are seated, taking a sip of wine.

'I'm glad,' he says earnestly. 'I got the impression – and I wanted to ask – well, that you don't really enjoy dinner, normally?'

She lowers her eyes, and he fears he may have been too inquisitive, but after another sip of wine she answers.

'I suppose-' she begins quietly, and he nods to let her know she can continue. 'I suppose I just feel a little out of place sometimes.'

'Oh,' he says, and he knows it sounds stupid but he wasn't expecting her answer. 'Why?'

'Well, I just-' she hesitates. 'I'm not like everyone there because I'm American, and I have a different family background which I know people don't approve of because it's not aristocratic like yours is-'

'Well, I can settle something on that score,' he says, chuckling, and she looks up curiously.

'Don't tell Mama,' he begins, and she nods solemnly, whilst subconsciously thinking that this must be the most relaxed that they have ever been. 'Now, Mama always says that the title of Earl of Grantham was given to the first Earl for services to the King and country. But, Papa drunk too much Scotch one night and told me that the title was awarded a week after the King had journeyed to Yorkshire to meet privately with the first Earl's mistress.'

'Oh!' Cora giggled, 'so you mean-'

'Your ancestry is technically better than ours,' he says, and she laughs.

'I bought you something, by the way,' he says, slightly awkwardly, offering her an envelope.

'Why?' she asks, and her question is natural and not at all unkind, but he still struggles to find an appropriate answer.

'I just – wanted you to have something that reminded you of home, really. So I wrote to your parents, and they sent over this, they said it was something you had liked to look at as a child, before Christmas, and I just thought – well, open it now if you want to.'

Cora opens the envelope to find not only a letter from her mother and father, but the Christmas catalogue her father used to bring home from work in December every year, and for a moment she cannot speak. She thinks she has adjusted to life in England quite well, after a difficult start, but the memories that are associated with such seemingly trivial objects are often very strong.

'Tell me about Christmas in New York,' her husband urges, and so she does. She tells him about the huge, bustling department stores and her mother returning in the evenings with velvet stoles and brightly packaged boxes, and he listens and questions and comments. And he looks at her, then, and she is laughing, her eyes sparking in the soft candlelight, and he thinks that he is the luckiest man in the world.

A/N: I hope you all have a merry Christmas and a happy new year!