Chapter One

Cora thought it odd that Robert had said very little all evening. Sybil had been making ample conversation throughout dinner, but Robert appeared distracted. He didn't even share his usual knowing glance at Edith when Mary began her litany of "all-things-amiss" with Sybil's ambitious arguments. Cora, exasperated by the girls and deeply concerned about Robert, excused herself before the meal had concluded and went upstairs for bed.

O'Brien helped her disrobe just as Cora was about to ask her if she, too, had noticed Robert's deeply sullen mood, his lordship himself appeared in the doorway.

"I'll be through in a moment's time, milord." O'Brien crooned, taking a small liberty, thinking he must see that she was only halfway through unraveling Cora's corset.

"O'Brien, if you wouldn't mind excusing us I'm sure I can assist Lady Grantham in preparing for bed."

Cora smirked, her back to him, but when she didn't hear a scoff from O'Brien and felt her hands release the ribbons behind her back, she turned. Robert's expression was not jovial. It was peculiarly worn, almost gray with worry. O'Brien pardoned herself and shut the door to the bedroom softly behind her. Taking her place, Robert took the ribbons in his hands and held them for a moment, not moving to undo them.

"Robert, what is it?" Cora said, turning to face him. He had not let go of the ribbons and they pulled against her chest. Cora let out a startled cough and the suddenness of it seemed to bring Robert out of whatever storm raged behind his eyes.

"Oh - Cora, darling, I'm terribly sorry." he said, letting the ribbons drop from his hands.

She cocked her head to one side, trying to read him. "Please, tell me what's the matter. Has someone passed? You look as perfectly worn." Reaching behind her she wriggled around for the ribbons, attempting to loosen them the rest of the way on her own. Robert moved to help her, then let his hands fall back toward him in a surrender. In all actuality, he didn't have a clue what do with the satin strands that held her in.

"I received some troubling correspondence this morning, my dear. From a war comrade of mine." He moved toward the window, looking out over the estate. It was late summer and where the nights had been long and tinged with pink light, they had suddenly turned and were growing shorter minute by minute, the evening light fading to a humble amber. "This man's name was John Brody. He and I exchanged friendly letters over the years since we were in Africa together. He had a difficult time when he returned home. He didn't have any family - I thought, perhaps, he may have been much younger than he said he was. After he returned he did settle down, a wife and a -" he stopped, his voice catching. He turned toward Cora who, having managed to wiggle out of her corset while he was talking, was now seated on the bed in her underclothes, looking at him intensely.

"A child, Robert? Do they have children?"

He nodded, crossing the room toward her. Sitting next to her on the bed, he took her hands. They were pale and soft, nearly translucent with blue-hues of veins. Though they were so small, they were warm and they relaxed him.

"They have a young daughter. Her name is Amelia." he cleared his throat, "I received a letter this morning from a lawyer who says that John and his wife both succumbed to fever. The same fever, I think, that nearly took you."

Cora's eyes locked on his, becoming damp and wide. "Oh, Robert."

"She's become a ward of the court. From what I understand there was a small parcel that came along with her when she left her home- and in it were some letters that I had written to her father. The lawyer, of course, wrote to me to tell me of his passing and. . .to inquire about what is to be done with the child."

He let his head, heavy with sadness, drift down toward his chest. Cora brought a hand to his face and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"Cora, I'm afraid that the lawyer has misinterpreted our correspondence. We, of course, have no relation whatsoever to the Brody's. But there were no other letters - it appears as if I was the only one who wrote John with any meaningful frequency. The lawyer wonders if. . .if we would take Amelia."

He looked up at Cora slowly and without moving his head - it was almost as though he lacked the strength. She brought her other hand to the other side of his face and lifted it up to meet her gaze.

"Oh, my darling, this is why you have been so solemn today." she said with a sad smile.

"I wanted to tell you as soon as I read the letter but I found myself needing to reading multiple times just to comprehend what it said." he thought a moment and then departed her embrace. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out an envelope. He unfolded it and as he did, Cora noticed that his hands were trembling. He cleared his throat and began to read from the letter, ". . .the child's name is Amelia. She is a beautiful child who is strong and has already learned many skills of value to a young person of her station. She is due to be sent to the foundling home, as she has no surviving family. I have enclosed her photograph. If you could agree to take the girl on she could avoid going into the orphanage, which I'm afraid are overrun as it is. I admit, Lord Grantham, that I imagine she'll be lost to the fray." He took a faded photograph from inside the envelope and regarded it for a moment before handing it to Cora. Taking it from him, she felt her heart swell as she looked at the girl- the child- of which the letter spoke.

"The letter goes on to say that she would do well to come on as a young maid, perhaps even in the kitchen within a few years." Robert continued, seeming to have finally gotten his bearings now that he had confessed what had been weighing so heavily upon him.

Cora wrinkled her nose, confused. The child in the photograph? Working in the kitchen? Or even doing maid's work? "Robert, how old is the girl-" she stuttered, "Amelia?" The name felt odd against her lips - not marvelous and wide as she had first said Mary, nor confident and calm as when she had first said Edith - but maybe, it was a bit like the swell of love and sweetness that she felt when she said Sybil. While unfamiliar on her tongue, she felt that she could learn to love how Amelia sounded.

"The lawyer says she turned six at the beginning of the summer." Robert said, matter-of-factly.

"Six?" Cora said, leaning toward him, "She's still so little- just a little girl. We can't bring her on as a maid!"

Robert cowered and Cora thought he might have begun to turn red in the face.

"Cora, I'm so sorry. I should not have even suggested it." he brought his finger to his temple and closed his eyes, "We have three beautiful daughters of our own, a house full of devoted help, our extended family and an estate to tend to. To think that we had any room for a child- a child we hardly know, is simply absurd." He reached for Amelia's photograph and put it back in the envelope along with the letter. Cora laid her hand on the top of his thigh and shifted closer to him on the bed.

"Darling - wait." she hushed, "I only mean to say that we can't in good conscience bring such a young child on as a domestic." she paused, meeting his eyes. "If we are to take the child in we are to take her in as a child."

Robert wasn't sure he understood and Cora could see that. She reached up and pushed a cowlick of graying hair across his forehead. "What I mean to say is that we should bring the child here to love, not to put to work. This man, Mr Brody, obviously thought very highly of you. Your letters meant so much to him that he kept him - and the little girl, bless her, knew that they had meant something terribly important to her father so she ensured they were not lost to her."

Reaching up to grasp her hand, he brought it to his mouth and kissed her fingers tenderly. "Cora, my darling, I sometimes think your heart is bottomless." he stiffened, letting her fingers fall delicately from his mouth, "I don't know if this is the right thing to do - I don't know what people - what Mama -would say on the subject."

"I think you should at least write to the lawyer charged with arranging Amelia's care. Have her brought to Downton. If we could meet her, perhaps, then we would know."

Robert nodded, tossing the envelope on his night table. He turned back to her and took her face gently in his hands. He wanted to thank her but he couldn't find the words. Instead, he laid a soft kiss upon her forehead and she knew.