The characters don't belong to me. Thank you again for all of the encouragement and love from my wonderful beta, granthamfan! xx
Chapter Three
Cora walked through the house in a daze. Everywhere she turned, there were memories of happy times with Robert. She passed the fireplace on her way out of the library and sighed at the image of a cold Christmas over thirty years before where her shy, young husband had presented her with a red scarf and ruby pendant before arranging for hot chocolate. The next day she'd tried to teach him to ice skate, rather unsuccessfully. But it had been great fun, followed by terrific fun. As she entered their bedroom, she nearly felt sick at seeing the glass head that Robert had to blindfold for another round of intimacy. Outside the window was the rose garden where she had spent many times, both happy and sad, choosing to share it and its secrets with Robert on a recent New Year's Eve.
Everywhere she saw a memory; a happy time that she was convinced would not come again with Robert's angry words ringing in her ears. Her room, not theirs. Dalliances with Mr. Bricker. The way he had run to his mother and undoubtedly given her a totally inaccurate version of events only made it worse. Cora wanted to lie down on her bed and weep forever.
As she gave into the tears, other memories poured over her mind. She saw herself as a newlywed, unaccustomed to Downton, trying to make her arranged marriage work despite the many forces against her, especially Violet with her disapproval of all things American-especially Robert's bride. Exactly how Cora had withstood it, she did not know. Nor did she know how she had turned a formal, loveless marriage into a real kind of love. She hadn't really been trying, having given up on unrequited love quite early on. Nevertheless, she was more driven than ever to straighten this awful situation and go on living happily with the one man she could ever love.
Cora dried her tears, walked over to her jewelry chest and opened the top drawer. Inside of a black leather box was the ruby pendant. She touched it tenderly. The night she had received it was one of the moments that had significantly revealed how much Cora had begun to truly love Robert. Could it help her again?
Before she realized what she was doing, Cora had fastened the necklace and felt the pendant lying cool against her skin. On one hand, she ached all the more for his love. However, a new determination was rising within her. Cora was going to win Robert back. She was not the shy girl of thirty years ago. She was now a strong woman, spoke her own mind and knew she was in the right. There was no way she would not succeed.
"Robert?" She saw him sitting in his usual chair in the library. "We must talk. There are things I need to tell you, and you are going to listen to me. What we have is too precious to let go over some horrid misunderstanding that never had to occur."
He peered up from his book and saw his wife standing before him, as determined as he had ever seen her.
"I fell in love with you, Robert, the night you gave me this," she fingered the ruby pendant. "You were and are the only man I could ever love. Not Simon Bricker or anyone else. Just you. That is why I will repeat again what I've been telling you. Nothing happened. I asked him to leave time and time again."
It wasn't easy to tell from Robert's expression if her words were affecting him in any particular manner. He looked as though he was deep in thought, nearly perplexed.
She continued to speak. "It hasn't always been easy, Robert. We've had our ups and downs. It did make me feel badly that even a stranger like Simon Bricker could see that you didn't appear to value my opinions or consult me on anything you consider important. I wasn't as flattered that he wanted my opinion as I was longing for you to do the same. Because, after all, my heart belongs to you. Art historians come and go. I want you in my bed at night. Consider it, Robert. Have you never been a little carried away in flirtation?"
A strange look passed Robert's face. We're alright aren't we, Robert? Once again he could see Cora lying in bed, still covered in sweat from the Spanish Flu, offering her hand to him, making an apology to him when it was Robert who should have been apologizing for kissing the maid.
"If not, then stay in your little bed forever. Otherwise, join me in our bedroom tonight."
She turned on her heel and began to exit the library. Then a voice behind her began to speak.
"I remember the night I gave you that pendant," Robert began. "I knew I loved you, but didn't know how to show it."
Cora turned around.
"I did not mean to overlook you," he continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "I think, Cora-if truth be told-I'm angry at myself for letting you need someone else to tell you that you matter. Those words should have been mine, not his. I've been terrible, darling. Can you ever forgive me?"
Cora only nodded because if she were to speak, the tears may start again.
He rose and crossed the room. "Cora, I promise I will make it up to you. Every tear, every careless word I've spoken. I want to include you in my - our - decisions."
"I assume you're coming back into our bedroom?"
He smiled. "That depends on two things."
"What things, Robert?"
"On if you will wear this tonight," he held the pendant in his hand, caressing it gently, "and if the glass head will wear a blindfold. I still feel like it's looking at me."