AN: This chapter had me in tears. I hope they were worth it. Grab the tissues, everyone.


Robert woke the next morning with a pounding headache, his vision blurry, and his stomach in turmoil. He couldn't remember much from the night before, but he had awoken dressed fully in his clothes from dinner, even his shoes on his feet. He sat up as a wave of sharp nausea hit him, but a few deep breaths later and it was gone. He was very confused as to what was going on, but he couldn't even manage to crawl out of bed. He managed to ring for Carson, and that was the extent of his mobility. As Carson finally appeared at his door, he was silently disgusted by the sight before him. The man was curled up in a ball on his bed, his tails a rumpled mess, but what had him most upset was his behavior the previous night.

"Good morning, sir," Carson said coldly, "Anything I can get for you?"

"It would be marvelous," he said roughly, "If I could have a powder for this blasted headache." He groaned, and Carson agreed, leaving to get him the powder. He returned minutes later with Lord Grantham.

He took one look at his son and was filled with aching disappointment. "Carson, if you could give us a moment?"

Carson looked all too happy to leave the uncomfortable situation. "Absolutely, m'lord." He hurried from the room, and Lord Grantham pulled up a chair next to the bed. He was silent for several minutes before finally finding words to proceed.

"Tell me, son. How are you feeling this morning," he waited, trying to hide the cold tone in his voice.

"I feel as though I've been bucked from the back of a horse," he grumbled, his eyes closed due to his sensitivity to the light flooding the room. "I expect Cora is livid with me for having so much to drink."

His father froze as he stared hard at his son. Does he really not remember last night? "Robert," he began cautiously, "Do you remember what transpired last night?" His concern for the situation had risen considerably as he waited for his son's response.

"I remember Mama causing a scene," he said slowly, trying to pick out memories from the night before, "And then I went to find Cora… I think." Robert opened one eye and looked at his father for confirmation. When his father sat before him in stunned silence, Robert opened both eyes, sitting up slowly, "Papa? What is it?"

"Robert," he answered slowly, "Cora is…" he sighed quietly, not knowing how to break this to his son.

"Cora? What's happened to Cora," his son's eyes opened wider, and he waited with bated breath for his answer.

"My dear boy," he reached out for his son's hand, knowing this would not sit well, "Cora is missing."

Robert couldn't breathe. He blinked hard, trying to process this information. After a pregnant pause, he managed to choke out, "H-How? How can this be?"

"From what Carson told me, he overheard an argument between the two of you, but kept his distance. Something you said set her off, and she left, just walked off into the night. You tried to follow her, but in your," he paused, "State, you stumbled and fell to the ground. Carson helped you inside, then he and your sister went to search for her, but she had already gone."

"My God," was all Robert could manage as he stood up and walked to his window, staring out at the grounds, trying to breathe. She was gone, and he couldn't bear it. He sobbed violently and sunk to his knees, the tears coming hard and fast as he realized he had more than likely lost her. His father's heart broke at the sight of his son's emotional state, but he held back, hoping that maybe this was what it finally took to open the young man's eyes. He closed his eyes and let the sounds of Robert's pain sink in. Cora, you sweet, sweet girl. Please be safe. I don't think we could bear if something had happened to you. He prayed over and over, silent tears pouring down his face as he went to his son and sunk to the floor with him, holding him like he did when Robert was a young boy, both of them praying for some word from Cora.

"M'lord! M'lord," Carson shouted anxiously as he ran into the room frantically, out of breath from having sprinted all the way upstairs. He breathlessly shoved the small envelope into his hands, holding his side as he panted.

He ripped open the envelope, his eyes searching it quickly. Cora's handwriting brought him some relief.

Papa,

I am truly sorry for the turmoil that I have likely caused with my actions of last night. I want to apologize for leaving so suddenly, but I just cannot stay at a place where my own husband cannot accept me. It breaks my heart to write this to you, but there is simply no other way for me to go on like this.

I've sent a telegram to my parents, and they've agreed with me that it might be best if Robert and I were away from each other for a spell. I inform you of this with a heavy heart, but I will be returning to New York for the time being. My maid has received instructions of where to bring my things. I will be leaving on Saturday, and I'm not sure when I will be back.

Please, take care of Robert for me. He will no doubt be devastated by such news, and it kills me to hurt him. I love him dearly, Papa, and it is tearing me apart to leave him now, but my heart can't take the indifference for any longer. Tell him I love him very much.

Please forgive me,

Cora

He sputtered at the heartbreaking letter in his hands, and he knew deep down that this was what was best for the troubled couple. He had tried his hardest to make her feel at home in this large and foreign place, but with the constant admonishing from his wife and the arrogance of his son, it was no wonder that the poor girl had finally snapped. He folded the letter and put it in his breast pocket, close to his heart. He managed to stand, and gestured for Carson to join him in the hallway. As the other man followed, he lowered his voice which was raw with emotion, "I'm afraid that Lady Cora will be leaving us for an undetermined amount of time."

"Leaving, M'lord? But why," Carson was shocked, for it was unheard of for a Lady to leave her husband.

"My son has not been the best husband to her, Carson, I'll admit it," he sighed. "I honestly can't blame her for wanting to leave for a while."

Carson nodded, but he was saddened for the young heir in the room. "Will she be returning to America, M'lord?"

"Yes, Carson, she will," he wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. "I would like you to fetch me her maid, if you will. Lady Cora says that she sent her instructions on where to take her things, so I want to make sure that everything is understood."

"Of course, M'lord. Shall I fetch her now," he questioned sadly, seeing how much this whole thing pained his employer.

"No, give me a while with my boy," he said softly, "I have to break this news to him."

"Very well, M'lord," Carson relented as he turned to leave.

Lord Grantham turned to head back into the room, finding his son nowhere in the room. He noticed that the door leading into their bedroom was open, and he found Robert lying in the bed hugging her pillow as he stained it with more tears. He sat beside him on the mattress, and slowly ran his hand over his son's back in an attempt to comfort him. "Robert," he began slowly, taking a deep breath before even attempting to continue, needing to be strong for his son, "I've had a letter from Cora."

Robert continued to heave with grief, but managed to choke out a reply in between strangled sobs. "She's…going home…I knew…it…the moment…you…told me…" He turned to look at his father, "She deserves…much better…than…than I can give her…" Robert hiccupped, and Lord Grantham's heart broke for the boy.

"Come, Robert," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, "She loves you very much. This won't last forever, son."

"That's where you're wrong, Papa," Robert whispered gravely, "It's too late. I pushed her away because I'm too deficient to tell her I love her."

"Robert," his father protested, trying to make his son see reason.

"Papa, please," Robert closed his eyes and buried his face back in her pillow, "Leave me to my sorrows. I can't bear to see the look of disappointment in your eyes."

He sighed, but stood and made his way to the door. He took heavy steps on his way down to the library. He sat down at his desk and began the letter that needed to be written at once. He pushed the tip of the quill to the parchment and begin to write.