AN: Thank you everyone who took the time to review! If you've been following Iron and Blood, I haven't abandoned it. I just happened to start writing this one too when I began that one. I'll be updating I&B soon.
"There you are! Mama has gone up," Mary informed him as she strolled into the library.
Robert looked up as she sat beside him, offering her a halfway smile that she noted immediately.
"What has you glumly taking refuge in here?" Mary inquired.
Robert set his whiskey down and turned in his seat. "Have you noticed anything...odd...with your mother."
Mary's head inclined toward her shoulder and she squinted her eyes at him, perplexed. "How do you mean?"
"Oh I don't know," Robert sighed. "Perhaps I'm making something out of nothing."
"Well, whatever it is, it has got you worried, that's plain to see," Mary said. "What is it?"
"She seems...forgetful lately. She was writing a letter to Grandmama and couldn't remember Lady Sinderby's first name. During dinner the other evening she forgot to take off her gloves. I've found her wandering the house on a number of occasions the last few weeks as though lost, as though she meant to do something but suddenly couldn't remember what it was."
"Have you said anything to her?" Mary asked.
Robert exhaled heavily, "Yes, in a manner. She gets extremely defensive when I bring it up."
Mary was quiet, deep in her own thoughts. When she looked up, Robert could see she was debating whether to speak. "You have noticed something."
Mary nodded. "When we went into Ripon today, she and I were talking quite a lot during the drive. About trivial things. The car arrived in town quickly. I was going to Clarence's. George needed new knickers. When Pratt parked I moved to get out and she just sat there, waiting, as though she didn't know what to do next. I reminded her that we were meeting at Ramsey's for tea after she went to the apothecary and then she became animated and hurried out of the car. It seemed she had forgotten why she came to Ripon in the first place."
"Oh Mary," Robert began pacing the room. "She just doesn't seem herself."
"Surely it can't be anything serious!" Mary exclaimed.
"I don't know…" Robert replied honestly. And really, he didn't for sure, except he had been with Cora for over three decades and there was an offness to her now, a quietness, a mental slowness he was unaccustomed to. He suspected something was happening and the little instances that kept adding up left him feeling apprehensive.
"Well perhaps she should see Dr Clarkson?" Mary asked.
"She'll never agree to it." Robert stated.
"Maybe I can describe what you've noticed to Isobel? She may have a recommendation." Mary offered.
"Yes...do that," Robert instructed, now preoccupied himself.
Cora watched, helpless, as the sun slowly sank below the tree line. Most of the remaining light was filtered through treetops, casting shadows on the gnarled paths that all looked the same. The air had changed, the unseasonably warm winter day growing harsh once again as dusk began. Cora hugged her coat tighter, a tremble running across her shoulders every time a gust of wind swirled through her wooded surroundings. She should have kept to the main path, but she had been enjoying her walk and had lost track of time and her location. After living at Downton for thirty-five years, she didn't think she could get lost on the grounds still, but here she was, two hours after stepping over the front door's threshold and she was hopelessly turned around.
Panic began to grip her insides, making her heart thunder loudly in her chest, its beat a rapid staccato in her ears drowning out all other sound. It was getting dark and the February chill was taking hold, easily moving in through her thin gloves. Cora sat on the fallen trunk of a tree, huddling over her knees as she curled herself into a tight ball, vigorously running her hands over her arms as she hugged herself. She looked up at the unfamiliar woods around her. She might as well be in Wales instead of somewhere near Downton. When the darkened grey sky started to spit out a freezing rain, Cora rose to her feet once again. Angling her hat so that her face may stay drier, she wearily headed in a new direction, praying it was the right way.
Robert stood, waiting patiently as Bates finished buttoning his waistcoat. They were talking about nothing in particular, when a flurry of chaotic activity could be heard through the dressing room door. Robert placed a steadying hand on Bates, making him stop, and the two stood still, listening. He was sure he could hear Mary and Baxter. Curious, Robert opened the door that divided his room from Cora's.
Cora was sitting on her bed, pale, wet and shivering as Mary wrapped blankets around her shoulders. Mrs Hughes stepped into the room, carrying hot bricks that she placed in towels and tucked around Cora while Baxter made quick work of taking off her boots and rubbing her stocking clad feet vigorously. Not one of them seemed to notice his presence.
"What's going on here?" Robert questioned. He thought back to that afternoon, he and Mary discussing a new rental agreement for one of the farms. Cora had popped into the library, telling him she was going out for a walk. He had been distracted when she kissed his cheek and then left the room. That had been hours ago.
Mary, looking up at him finally, spoke first. "Mama got caught in the snow."
"I see that." Robert came closer to them all.
"Milady, I know Mr Carson has just rung the gong, but perhaps a hot bath would help take away the chill?" Baxter asked, taking the hairpins out of Cora's hat and removing the soggy thing from her head.
Now that Cora was within arms reach, Robert could see the chattering of her teeth. He picked up her hands, rubbing them between his own. "You're frozen through, Cora! Were you outside this whole time? Whatever made you stay out so long?"
Cora clutched his hands tightly, eyes clouded with a residual fear. "I got lost, Robert."
"Lost?" Robert repeated in disbelief.
When Cora cast her head down and pulled her hands away, embracing herself, Robert's disbelief was replaced by dismay. Feeling the weight of someone's eyes, he glanced over and saw Mary looking at him, meaningfully. Robert's tilt of his head was imperceptible to the rest of the room but Mary.
"Baxter, I'm sure Lady Grantham would appreciate a nice soak. Perhaps you can have a tray brought up for her, Mrs Hughes?" As the two women started on their new tasks, Mary approached her father. "I'll tell everyone downstairs Mama isn't feeling quite well and that you're tending to her."
Robert briefly touched Mary's arm in assent, and when it was finally just the two of them, Robert pulled Cora's vanity chair to the bed. He sat down, their knees touching, and waited for her to say something. The silence in the room stretched. Baxter came back through the door to inform them the bath was ready and Robert dismissed her. Once she was gone, Robert got up and began peeling Cora's snow covered clothes off of her.
"I just got turned around, Robert," Cora finally murmured.
"I think you should see Dr Clarkson," Robert answered, pulling her elbow up gently so that she would get to her feet and he could undo the buttons of her dress.
"I don't think that's necessary," Cora replied, looking over her shoulder and placing her hand on his cheek. "See, I'm already warming up."
Robert stilled her hand with his and then brought it down between them, turning her body so that they could face one another. "I don't mean about that, although you were lucky to get back here when you did!"
Cora squared her shoulders and raised her eyebrows. "Then why would I go see him?"
"Cora…" Robert's tone was mournful and Cora immediately dropped his hands and stepped back.
"Don't say my name like that, Robert. There is nothing wrong!" Cora spat as she strode toward the bathroom quickly. Robert followed.
"I think there is!" Robert declared, unwilling to be put off any longer. "Mary spoke to Isobel-"
"She what?!" Cora whipped around, her face contorted in hurt fury. "How dare she? How dare YOU!"
Robert could no longer hide the anxiety that had been building the last few weeks. He slammed his hand on the marble sink, the slap echoing in the room only briefly satisfying. Cora, shocked into stupefaction by his aggressiveness, bit back any lingering accusations.
"How dare I?! You are my wife and I am worried, that's how I dare! What should I have done? Say nothing, do nothing? Wait for something bad to happen?" Robert demanded.
Cora clasped her hands together, wringing them, her voice quiet as she said, "I'm afraid, Robert."
The smallness of her voice and the sight of her standing in the middle of the bathroom, looking fragile in only her chemise drew Robert to her, his earlier infuriation at her stubbornness quickly dissipating.
"Oh darling," Robert soothed, taking her head in his hands and pulling it to his chest. "Let us see the doctor. Perhaps it IS nothing, but at least we'll be sure."
Robert let out a sigh of relief as he felt her head move against him, nodding in agreement.
Robert caressed the chestnut twists of her hair, still pinned intricately on top of her head. It had been a playful joke between them, that he made up for the grey that she lacked. Only up close, laying behind her as he was now, could a few silvery strands be seen peek-a-booing amongst the dark curls. Age cannot wither her nor custom stale her infinite variety. Only Cora could inspire him to quote Shakespeare.
He had waited for her to finish her bath, taking a tray himself. She had emerged from the bathroom red eyed and quiet, picking at her food. He caught himself before admonishing her to eat, knowing it would do more harm than good. Eventually, she had put her tray aside and curled onto the bed. Robert sat, unsure what to offer her, until she reached behind, fumbling for his hand and pulling him down around her. He had held her fiercely, his own tears waiting until he could steal a private moment. He kissed the crest of her shoulder blade when she let out a deep, shuddering sigh.
"I'll end up in some institution, soiling myself and muttering nonsense." Her voice was shaky as she attempted to joke but he heard the terror in her voice.
Robert's hand froze; his whole body ceased all movement, just the thundering of his heart near his ribcage. Her words, and the image they evoked working like a paralysis on his soul.
"Do you really think I'd let that happen to you?" Robert's own voice was unnaturally gruff, the tears he refused to shed straining the muscles of throat.
The slight jerk of her head was not enough to convince him that she believed his words. Robert capped his hand over her shoulder pressing back gently but persistently, until she allowed the momentum to tilt her backwards on the bed. Finally looking into her eyes, he saw the raw terror, the fight she was waging to hold herself together. Moving his hand to her cheek, he rubbed the soft skin of her face.
"That will never happen. No matter what Clarkson tells us, we will get whatever help is needed and you will stay here," Robert swallowed, finding it hard to keep his words steady, "where you will be safe. And cared for. And loved."
Cora closed her eyes. She pressed two fingers to her lips to quiet their trembling. A string of tears blossomed in the corners of her eyes and spilled down the sides of her face. Silently Robert wiped her temples before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her body close.