I wish this were my idea! But I can take no credit since it was the lovely anon of GranthamGal (modernamericangirl on tumblr) who came up with this plotline. She was just kind enough to let me play in someone else's sandbox of imagination. I've decided it will be a multi-chapter, though the length is still debatable. Hopefully this satisfies everyone's desires. As always, I own nothing and gain no profit (except sheer enjoyment) in writing this.
'Remember we're all counting on you, son. The future of Downton is at stake.' All he can hear is his father's words while he paces anxiously in the library. Hands clasped behind his back, Robert takes five paces in front of the fireplace turns and retreats five paces back to his starting place. It's as methodical as the ticking on the mantle. It serves a purpose just like everything else in this room, in this house. And the blue eyed girl with bouncing midnight curls that refuse to stay in place despite his mother's daily criticisms is no exception. He wonders if she knows just yet what it is she's pledging her life to as she stays in a room with pristinely managed sheets and wide open windows that let in so much moonlight and cool air at night it feels as though you're sleeping underneath the stars. He wonders if she will ever grow tired of someone changing her clothes six times a day. He wonders if she's catching onto the way his mother criticizes her sharp tongued accent that can't seem to tell a lie. He wonders if she'll ever know him, a near stranger, well enough to discern it's all an act designed to uphold the honor of the Crawley family. But whenever Miss. Cora Levinson pushes her way into the library, her wide eyes gleaming with excitement at being called to meet with him alone, he doesn't have to wonder anymore. Because it's very obvious she doesn't know. And he only hopes she never does.
"Did you hear the story?" He hears the eagerness ringing in her voice before feeling the mattress sway when she slides into bed beside him.
"Yes," He responds so she can't berate him for not listening. But from that point onward in their conversation, Robert's too consumed by his own thoughts to hear her recount the story of how his eldest daughter just recently became engaged.
In fact, it's all he'd thought about ever since Mary and Matthew made their announcement at New Years Eve dinner that night. How Matthew gave her a heartfelt speech on the front lawn as snow fell softly around them. How he knelt down before her like a true gentleman who felt humbled and perhaps a bit unworthy of the woman he was proposing marriage to. How they aimed to keep it a secret until the New Year because honestly, what could be more romantic than starting anew with the one you loved?
Yes, he listened to all the minute details that both parties happily relayed with nothing short of true loved mirrored in one another's gazes. He rejoiced that Downton would stay in the family, and that his beloved, eldest daughter was truly happy with her match. But his delight was soon dampened when Mary, truly encapsulated with zeal, asked her mother with quiet curiosity, "Is this how it's supposed to feel, Mama? As if I'm the only girl in the world who suddenly could be this happy?"
"I'm certain it is, my dear girl." She slowly reached for her daughter's hand, squeezing it with affirmation.
"But I mean..." Mary leaned forward, lowering her voice, "is this how you felt when Papa asked you?"
The inquiry was meant to bring Cora into strictest confidence. But somehow in his lingering near his wife, the words still reached his ears. He should have walked away in that moment and let his imagination override the real reply she would give. But his curiosity beat out any logical rationale, so he peeked slyly at Cora in her moment of hesitation. The light dimmed from her usually sparkling blue eyes, causing him to feel a certain self-reproach he never expected. As her smile flickered for a split second, he felt his throat go dry and his ears go hot with shame.
Her eyes lowered to the carpet, tilting her head to the side as a familiar glaze of nostalgia spreads across her face. Once she finds her voice again it's smooth and warm without an air of insult or injury, "If I'm remembering correctly, then yes." When more questions appear across Mary's face, she then adds swiftly. "But you're asking me to recall the finer details of many years ago, my darling girl. And after you're father and I have been so happily married for as long as we have...it's hard to fully remember everything."
Cora's response was far too kind given the way their marriage began. He wondered how many details she recalled from that night, and if there was any lingering disappointment that she intentionally withheld from him. He knew she'd never admit this unless he asked directly. So he silently removed himself from the conversation, knowing he wouldn't be missed from a conversation that would only make his mind linger on painful memories.
"Robert," Cora's tone snaps his attention back to their current setting. He looks over to her, slightly bewildered by her scrutinizing gaze, "You've been rather quiet ever since we turned in."
"I've just been thinking," He lets out an indifferent sigh, his gaze wavering from her to the space between them.
"Oh?" She slides further underneath the blankets, propping her chin up underneath her arm on the pillows. "What about?"
He looks down at her, noting the inquisitive sparkle dancing across her eyes that stirs an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "It's nothing..." He reaches out a hand to touch the side of her face, a general tell of reassurance that's oftentimes convincing.
He watches her lips twitch into a knowing half smile, and she mutters teasingly. "Your sudden thoughts wouldn't have something to do with our eldest daughter's engagement would it?"
Even after all these years, her ability to read his mind with a single gaze still unnerves him. His mouth parts slightly in astonishment and he grumbles, trying to hold back the bemused curl in his lips. "I hate it when you do that."
"No you don't," Cora chuckles in high pitched tones, batting his arm playfully. "You love me all the more for it."
He rolls his eyes at her, unable to argue with what he knows to be true. Possessing such an uncanny synchronization for these sorts of things made their lives together so comfortable it was often uncomfortable. There were no secrets between them. And anything that might be too painful to vocalize was talked around in a way that both of them came to understand. Like the matter of his mother's disapproval in him marrying an American heiress many years ago, or his oversight with one of the maids when she had been sick with Spanish Flu. Granted there were different degrees of omission, but never did they stay completely unknown to the other for very long. Robert suspected, this scenario would play out very similarly to all the others. Because whenever his wife wanted to know something or have something be known, she didn't hold it in.
"You seemed so pleased about it earlier," She notes gently.
"I still am pleased," Robert assures her.
There's another lull in the conversation that she picks apart by inquiring simply. "Then what?" He watches her lift an unsatisfied brow at his vague replies, her mouth contorting to one side of her face.
He chews on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, a nervous habit that often earned him a swift reprimand from his parents when he was younger. His heartbeat quickens out of sheer nervousness because the course of this conversation could create an uncertain shift in their marriage. And Robert never coped well in uncertain situations, especially ones his entire life was built around. But examining her patient expression mounting with concern, gives him a purpose to confide his thoughts. Even if they surround a rather unpleasant time he'd rather forget altogether, he knows with Mary's impending nuptials they aren't likely to go away.
Tracing the golden scrolls embroidered across their comforter he wonders, "Why did you say yes...when I asked you?"
Whenever he decides to look up at her again, she blinks back at him, clearly surprised by the turn in their conversation. An intrigued smirk crosses her mouth, "You've never asked me that before. Why do you want to know now?"
He shrugs, attempting to repose something as if to appear like an afterthought. Even though the true reasons echo bitterly throughout his head. "I suppose...Matthew's proposals had me thinking about it. Mary seems so utterly happy about it all."
"And you don't think I was happy whenever you asked?" She retorts with an incredulous air.
Sensing he already knows the answer, Robert can't help but ask anyway. "Were you?"
"Of course," She confirms wholeheartedly. "Do you think I'd say yes, if I wasn't?"
He looks down from her piercing gaze, suddenly feeling embarrassed at how idiotic his self-consciousness must appear. Robert mutters in nearly inaudible tones, "Probably not."
She places her hand on top of his, stopping it from tracing patterns along the down filled blanket. His gaze reluctantly meets hers only to discover her replying with enough certainty to carry him away from any lingering doubts, "Definitely not." Cora must sense the doubt that fills inside him because she continues in a more light hearted tone, "Honestly Robert, sometimes you carry more guilt than a Catholic."
His mouth curls upward at her attempt to tease him, but it's only a short lived feeling of good will. Because her earlier words to Mary, although she's unaware he's bore witness to them, still resonate within him. Perhaps that finer detail of how him asking escaped her for a specific reason that she managed to leave unanswered. Perhaps she tried to mask the awkwardness of their proposal with happier memories that only spoke of the love they grew to share with one another over time. No matter what Cora told him, he refused to simply allow for that pivotal moment in their lives together to fade away into something not worth remembering. Even after she clicked off the lamp on her bedside table and he could hear her soft snores permeate the quiet room, he lay awake thinking of how he could make up for spoiling the moment when she agreed to commit herself to a foolish young man. A foolish young man who only saw her for the contribution she could provide to Downton, and not the one she would later make to his heart.