Robert nodded to Carson before taking up his teacup and stirring its contents. Turning around, he surveyed the room, the domestic simplicity of tea time making it a favorite part of his day. The only wrinkle in the serenity, Tom and Sybbie's absence. It was at this time especially, when Robert could imagine Sybbie lying on the floor playing checkers with him, her feet crossed behind her and her little forehead screwed in concentration, that the pain of missing them was as acute as the day they left for Boston. Little George was a blessing, and even Marigold's presence was a slight balm, but Sybbie was gone and it still hurt Robert to confront it.
Sighing, he took a sip of tea before settling into the sofa across from Edith and Marigold. Looking about the room, Robert seemed to be stuck with his own company, Edith and Marigold whispering to one another and Mary reading George a picture book in the far corner. His hand spread to his side, where Cora should be, and he grunted, unhappy that an early morning meeting had taken her away from them. The scuttle with the hospital was reaching a climax, Robert could feel it. He had warned her off of it, knowing any fight with his mother was futile, but it had become Cora's cause, and she threw herself at it with the usual zeal and enthusiasm she met most things. It was admirable that she cared so much, and Cora was always happiest when she felt she was being useful, but Robert did not like how heated the argument was getting. Or that she was spending all day touring the York hospital and then meeting with the board. He missed her by his side.
His thoughts turning him grumpy, Robert refocused his attention to Edith and Marigold. They made a cozy twosome. He couldn't hear the intimate conversation they were having, but Marigold looked peaceful and happy nestled in Edith's lap. Love shined through every feature of Edith's face as she moved a piece of Marigold's hair off of her forehead. Robert was thankful that the little girl had taken Edith out of the funk she had been in over Michael Gregson, but the strength of their bond puzzled him. How had a little orphan brought out such a maternal response in Edith? Even Sybbie as a baby hadn't made her aunt swoon as Marigold did, and they were each other's blood. Seeing the two together, he was reminded of Cora when the girls were young, her devotion to their every move and want, the joy she radiated just being in their presence.
Thinking of Cora only made Robert wish she was enjoying tea with them all the more, and his wanting fell heavy in his chest. Grumbling once again, he glanced up to find Marigold watching him. Letting a kind smile tease his face, the shy girl smirked at him before quickly burying her face into the safety of Edith's neck. So like Edith, Robert thought. Memories of little Edith flashed through his mind, hiding herself in folds of Cora's skirts, Cora's delicate hand smoothing over her flaxen ringlets in comfort.
So like Edith….and yet...not. The eyes, the eyes were someone else's.
Michael Gregson.
Robert's grip tightened dangerously around the fragile handle of his teacup. His head popped up in time to see Marigold staring at him again. Suddenly, the haze that had been clogging his vision dissolved and he saw it all very clearly. Since her arrival, something had bothered Robert about the girl. He hadn't been able to reconcile the devotion Edith had to her with the bizarre story of their acquaintance to one another.
And not only Edith. Cora. She so clearly had fallen for the child, was as devoted to her well-being as George's and Sybbie's, but she always fidgeted and squirmed whenever Robert brought her up in conversation. She would steer the topic onto something else, every time. Cora had many gifts and skills, lying had never been one of them. Her behavior had needled him, poking at his conscious and making him suspicious, of what he hadn't been entirely certain. Until now.
One thing he was sure of...Cora knew from the start who Marigold's parents were...and she had kept it from him.
The salon was quiet as Cora entered the house, and for that she was grateful. The throbbing in her head demanded the softness of her bed and the darkness of her room before she could even consider dressing for dinner. Cora placed her hand on the banister and took the first step, wishing she were already up the stairs.
"Milday," Even Carson's deep baritone aggravated the pain in her head, making her teeth ache.
"Yes?" Cora responded tiredly.
"Lady Mary asked that you look in on the library when you returned."
Sighing, Cora came off of the stairs and crossed the room, hoping whatever Mary needed wouldn't take long. The last thing she wanted was to get into another argument about Carson and Mrs Hughes's upcoming wedding. One scathing battle was enough for today.
Cora opened the door to find Mary, Edith and Robert overlooking some papers. Three pairs of eyes glanced up, the impassive look on Robert's face triggering a responding clench in her belly. She knew that look well, something was not right.
"I'm back," Cora announced. "But I'm going upstairs to get straight. And to calm down."
"How was your meeting?" The carefree tone of Edith's words set Cora at ease slightly, though Robert's affect continued to be stony.
"Ghastly." Cora replied. Robert glanced up. "I'm going to rest before dinner."
Cora thought she heard Mary's voice as she closed the door, but hoping that it wasn't anything that couldn't wait, she continued toward the stairs. Robert's demeanor bothered her, however, and she mulled over the meaning. Perhaps it had nothing to do with her at all, Cora tried to assure herself. It felt traitorous to hope some glitch had occurred with the Pimm's Corner project, but she couldn't help it. Though she had worried about keeping Edith's secret, Cora was so much happier now that she and Robert were reconciled.
Opening the door of her room, Cora was startled to see Mrs. Hughes, Anna and Baxter in her private space. The tableaux made her pause, her own bewilderment stealing her voice, until she realized Mrs Hughes was wearing one of her coats.
"Excuse me, will someone explain to me what is going on here?" Cora demanded.
"Didn't Lady Mary tell you, milady?" Anna stuttered.
"Tell me what?" Cora snapped, the pain in her head exacerbated by the increasing level of her dismay.
"That Mrs. Hughes is going to borrow one of your coats to be married in." Baxter explained.
Mary. Of course. She only felt herself get angrier. Mary and Mama were too similar in their absolute dismissal of her. It was infuriating and she was tired of being bullied by both of them.
"Was I to have any say in this as you rifle through my cupboards?" Cora asked.
"Your Ladyship, there's obviously been a misunderstanding." Mrs Hughes interjected, the color rising in her cheeks.
"I'm surprised at you, Mrs Hughes." Cora scolded. "This is not the kind of behavior I would look for from you."
"We'll hang them up at once and leave you in peace." Mrs Hughes replied quickly.
"Lady Mary said-".
"Lady Mary may dispose of her own clothes as she sees fit." Cora hissed. "But I do not know what gives her the right to dispose of mine. Now please leave me. I have a headache and I need to lie down."
The three women scurried around the room, each trying to get past her and out as quickly as they could. Once the door was shut, Cora let out a breath, pinching the bridge of her nose hard. Remorse was already creeping in, pushing away the fury and leaving her with a sour taste. She had lashed out at the staff unnecessarily, another conflict she was ill-equipped to navigate.
Tugging the hat off of her head and slipping out of her coat, she left both in a pile on her floor. Cora had almost made it to bed before there was a rap on the door. Groaning, Cora's body sagged in response to the coming interruption. The door swung open, Robert filling in the space of the door frame. No smile preceded his entry and he shuttered them off from the rest of the house swifty, the door rattling in the jam as it slammed. Cora clutched her hands in front of her, jutting her chin out in a show of strength for whatever was to come, but dread filled her inside.
"Were you ever going to tell me?" His voice was controlled, measured, but his nostrils flared as he spoke them.
Cora was glad, really, that it was finally out. It had been too much of a burden. She opened her mouth to speak, but Robert shook his head, moving closer.
"I don't understand the lies, Cora. You let that little girl come here to live, you watch as I treat her with civility, and all the while she is my granddaughter!" Robert's voice did not rise, as Cora expected, it broke on the last word instead. His hurt at her deceit was worse than his ire.
The pain in her side, dormant for the last few months, flared unexpectedly, pinching off the air from her lungs for a number of excruciatingly long seconds. Cora stood frozen, waiting for oxygen to fill her chest again, her silence allowing Robert to continue his pain-filled accusations. Luckily, she could not comprehend any of it over her own distress.
"I'm sorry." Finally, she was able to speak, her words coming out in a watery flood. "I'm so sorry. I've wanted to tell you for so long. I've been sick over it, Robert. I have! But it wasn't my secret to tell."
Robert quieted, staring at her with his jaw squared, unmoved by her response.
"I've been terribly unfair to you," Cora's voice cracked, "and I've no right to ask you to forgive me after everything else that's happened-".
Robert looked at her for a long pause before answering. "I wonder if you do."
Cora's chest constricted with a held breath. Though she punished herself for her duplicity, though she'd agonized over this exact scenario a hundred times since finding out about Marigold, she'd hoped he'd find a way to look past her actions. When Robert continued to hold his tongue, when disappointment chased away hurt and clouded his face, Cora knew his next move would be to turn and leave her room. Another open ended argument, another string of endless days when the they did not speak to one another. And again, she had brought it on herself.
"Robert…" Cora spoke softly, reaching her hand out to touch him.
Robert took a step back. "I have some thinking to do. And I think I need to speak with Edith."
"Don't be angry with her, she's suffered enough," Cora responded quickly, protecting her daughter a habit that came instinctively.
"I don't understand the lying, Cora." Robert repeated, shaking his head. "I just don't understand all of this intentional deception."
Cora folded her arms across her middle. "That isn't fair! I've never been willfully deceitful to you. I never lied to you about Mr. Bricker, and I couldn't tell-".
"How do I know that now?" Robert asked.
Cora was stupefied. The blow of his words feeling as real as a physical slap. "You said it yourself not long ago that you were sorry you didn't trust me."
"Because then I didn't know you to be purposefully lying to me." Robert countered.
"But I wasn't! Edith has been so abused throughout this, Robert. I couldn't go against her wishes!" Cora explained.
Robert held up his hand as Cora began to speak again. "This isn't helpful. Perhaps I should leave you be before dinner."
Her mouth hung open, slack. Robert stared at her, and then nodded, as though finding an answer to an unasked question. Pivoting abruptly, Robert's purposeful strides brought him to the door. Before Cora could think too long she ran after him.
"Please Robert," Cora begged, hanging on lightly to the sleeve of his jacket.
"Cora, don't make this more difficult," Robert answered, before shaking her off and leaving her room.
A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you all for going along with me on this strange little journey I am setting up for our darlings. All of the reviews have been marvelous. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as we continue to veer away from canon. I adore Robert, but I don't think he would have been so easily maneuvered into reconciliation with Cora after the Bricker incident, as they portrayed on the show. I've already explored the possibility that he would have reacted differently in previous chapters and so in this chapter I've explored an alternative to how he would have taken the news of Marigold, particularly that Cora was in on it. Now, in the show he finds out much earlier in the timeline than in this story, so perhaps it was that the shortness of the 'lie' that helped him joke about being in on the secret instead of feeling betrayed. But...having your grandchild brought in to live with you and then having her true identity kept a secret from you feels like it should warrant some anger, no matter how good the intentions.