She sat on the sofa in the library, attending her needlework in the late afternoon, wondering and trying not to worry about what was taking Robert so long. They usually spent a few hours here together, having tea and chatting about their day and the children, waiting for Nanny to bring in their grandchildren. But he'd had to leave soon after kissing her goodbye during her breakfast. Cora caught herself looking towards the door every few moments, anticipating his return, before finally setting down her sewing and giving up any pretense of productivity as she waited.
She'd missed him all day after the morning they'd shared. It had been too long since they'd started the day so - waking up to his hands running down her side with purpose, finding the hem of her nightgown and the smooth lengths of her legs, and rolling her beneath him to start kissing her lazy smile before she'd even opened her eyes. Her hands went quickly to his hair - she loved seeing it so mussed from sleep and then making it even wilder by running her hands through it, scratching her fingers lightly at his scalp as his lips and then tongue met with hers.
"Good morning, my beautiful wife," he'd breathed into her kiss before pressing her deeper into the bedclothes, his hands roaming.
She felt him shift between her legs and opened them to welcome his heat against her, but then suddenly she remembered - "Darling . . . I'm not sure . . . I don't - oh!" she tried to tell him to stop, that this was most definitely not the doctor-recommended rest that he needed before his follow-up appointment today. That they were older now, they needed to be careful, that she had to look after him.
But he'd shaken his head, kissing her again and then - "Cora, I need you," he'd groaned softly in her ear, pulling her arms above her head with one hand and moving the neckline of her gown down far enough to trail hot open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone before capturing a nipple between his lips in a way that made her quickly arch her back further into his embrace and lose any fight she might have had. He was already rocking slowly into her hips and she gave into it - pulling her hands out of his grasp to help them both out of night clothes and closer to each other.
And as she sat gazing at the fire, ready to blame it for the warmth suddenly flooding her cheeks should anyone but Robert enter the room, catching herself smiling at the memory, she should have guessed he'd want her, need her that morning. Nearly 35 years of marriage meant she knew him better than she knew herself in most ways. A small part of her wished she'd worn something more daring, and been the one to wake him up with wandering hands and lips.
He would have never admitted it, but the phone call a few days before had made him nervous. Despite the relief they'd felt at the diagnosis of the ulcer and the steps they'd taken together to make sure his diet was as healthy as could be, the pains in his tummy and sometimes his chest hadn't exactly gone away. More tests had been ordered. More appointments. And each one was a little reminder of their mortality; had made it a little harder to ignore the way that everything seemed to ache a little more than it used to, that they moved slower than they used to and grew tired more easily. The children growing up, Tom and Sybbie moving away, Mary stepping more firmly into the running of the estate by the day, the events of the last year . . . Cora knew her husband and his need to be grounded to the earth, to his beloved Downton, to her. To feel powerful and significant, wanted and needed. To know that some things would never change.
Certain things between them never had, she thought, as her hand wandered up to touch at her neck, remembering his lips beneath her ear and the fevered whispered words he'd sent her over the edge with. She'd never wanted anyone but him with her in every way, in every confidence, a part of every desire.
Her heart fluttered anxiously at the thought of him, wondering what was taking him so long to get back from the doctor's, and suddenly impatient and worried she started for the door when Bates opened it and walked straight across the room to her as if he were searching for her.
"I'm sorry, your Ladyship -" he began.
"Bates - what is it? Where is Robert?" she asked quickly, too impatient for titles, peering around him for a sign of her husband.
"He's returned, but it's just - I'm afraid he had some bad news."
She faltered a moment and reached out a hand to lean against the bookshelf and steady herself. "Oh God, no," she whispered.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply it was from the visit with the doctor. Rather, a telegram was waiting for him, and he seemed quite distressed reading it. He left his dressing room without saying a word, and I hope I'm not out of line, but I thought you should know."
Completely thrown by the turn of events, Cora looked about the room before taking a deep breath to face Bates' worried face again. She had no idea a telegram had been delivered, nor any idea of its contents. "You did the right thing, seeking me out, Bates. Where is he?" she asked softly.
"I believe he went outside, my lady. Shall I call for Baxter to fetch a coat and gloves for you?"
"No, no, please. I don't want to wait. Thank you, Bates," she called back over her shoulder, grabbing a throw blanket Mama sometimes used on the chair by the fire, already walking as quickly as she could to go out the door in search of her husband, suddenly desperate for his hand in hers.