Bright sunlight spilled through a crack in the curtains, hitting Robert in the eyes and waking him.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled, covering his eyes with his right hand, his head throbbing.

It took him a few seconds to realize that his other arm was draped across something soft, warm. Uncovering his eyes and squinting against the light, Robert looked down to where Cora's head lay upon his chest, his arm across her shoulders, her dark tresses streaming across his chest and arm. Luckily, his mumbled oath hadn't woken her, and her face was relaxed into such an aspect of serene contentment that it made him smile despite his headache. Her body was curled against his under the blankets, her arm wrapped around his waist, her right leg flush with his left, her left leg stretched out over his thighs.

Lying there, feeling the small, steady movements of her chest next to his as she breathed, appreciating how stunningly beautiful she was even in repose, and noticing the calm that attended his own mind and heart just because she rested there against him, Robert wondered why he'd never stayed the night with her before. Honestly, he knew he hadn't because he'd been taught that spending the night with your spouse, actually sleeping together, was not proper behavior for an aristocrat and that very few married couples shared a bedroom – and those who did were gossiped about most mercilessly. But letting his eyes travel across Cora's face, he thought that perhaps most aristocrats were simply fools. Or perhaps not so fortunate as he.

Because he was fortunate. Robert thought over the night before, the scenes in restaurant, carriage, and bedroom coming back to him as he glanced around the room, where his nightclothes lay over the chaise longue, scarves were strewn over the bed, one green scarf lay upon the floor, two champagne glasses stood atop the bedside table, an empty bottle of champagne sat on the mantel, and every candle in the room was completely burned down. They hadn't fallen asleep until the wee hours of the morning, when intoxication and exhaustion had finally gotten the better of them. Robert knew men – friends, acquaintances – and heard stories of other men whose wives didn't want their husbands even to touch them unless completely necessary. But Cora had invited him into her bedroom, into her bed.

And, he knew, into her heart.

Cora's words raced through his head again: I know you're doing everything you can, Robert. It's just different from what I thought it would be like…. I haven't been this happy since I left home…. I may be even more infatuated with you now than I was before…. It wasn't the wrong answer at all…. Are you really going?

It occurred to Robert how much Cora had actually been asking, saying, with that last question. It was almost as if she'd said, "Please don't leave me. Not now. Now that we've shared this."

It hurt to think that she'd thought he would leave. But I always had before, hadn't I? After doing my duty to Downton and lying with her merely to try to produce an heir? I'd always left her. Lying there alone. It was the way of things wasn't it? But suddenly it struck him as contemptible and felt himself a cad.

Last night, he'd had no desire to leave her. Robert had felt drawn to her, and not just physically. When he'd come back with the champagne it had been a while, possibly several hours before they were together again. He wanted to be with her, to hear her voice, to hold her hand, to share her thoughts, to listen to her laugh… so happy to see her smile again.

As Robert looked down at his wife's face, he vowed never to leave her alone that way again. And to make it up to her for the four months he had simply gone back to his room after being with her. If it took the rest of his life to do it.

Gently, he lifted his arm from her shoulders and stroked her hair, loving that she had left it loose. A delight for his eyes alone. He didn't want to wake her, but he wanted her to wake. Robert had been seized with a most desperate desire to gaze into her blue eyes and then kiss her, slowly and intensely.

It wasn't too much longer before it appeared the sunlight woke Cora as well. She moved her hand to cover her own eyes, and then Robert felt her go rigid against him.

Cora had realized he was still there, they were still naked, and she thought his hand was on her hair. It had to be a dream. He couldn't have spent the whole night with her. It was too wonderful to be real.

With her eyes covered, tentatively she whispered, "Robert?"

He answered in a low voice, "Yes, Cora?" He thought maybe she was apprehensive because they were undressed, had to this point only seen one another by candlelight, and, knowing she was usually modest about such things, not sure what to do about his seeing her in daylight.

Cora, however, had no such thing in her head. Her body relaxed against his again as she heard his voice and felt him resume stroking her hair. It wasn't a dream. With the pounding in my head, she thought, I should have known better anyway.

"How much did we drink last night?" she inquired, her breath warm on his skin.

"Two bottles I think at the restaurant, and a bottle here."

"I have the most dreadful headache, Robert." Her hand remained over her eyes.

Robert hoped her head didn't hurt as much as his did. He chuckled softly. "So I imagine, Cora. We don't usually do that."

"For good reason, I see." Robert felt her smile against him.

Sighing a bit, Robert touched her cheek. "I know you would probably like nothing more than to lie in bed all day, but I assure you it will be better if we get up and have some breakfast."

"You have some practice in this?" She didn't move.

"Some. There were some lads in school in the habit of overindulging. I didn't participate very often, but I was almost always around for the aftermath. Trust me, Cora. We should get up. Perhaps we can walk around London once we've eaten and dressed?"

Cora groaned, turning to bury her face in his side. Her voice was muffled when she asked, "You promise my headache will go away?"

Robert chuckled again. "I can't promise it will go away, but it will definitely ease some if you have some food and we get some fresh air." He paused, then added, "Well, as fresh as you can get in London, anyway."

Taking a deep breath, she acquiesced. "Alright, Robert. You win." She lifted her head and propped herself up on her elbow, scowling at him.

"Now, don't look at me like that. I'm only trying to help you. How can I take that frown away?" He sat up, pulling her up beside him, putting his arm around her shoulders.

Cora grimaced as she worked to keep the pleased look from her face and sustain the scowl. "Well, I don't know." She turned away from him to hide her expression.

Robert wasn't sure if she was teasing him or not. "Would a kiss help?" he ventured.

Keeping her face averted, she mumbled, "I suppose it might." She found she quite liked teasing him a little.

Catching her slightly off guard, Robert took her chin in his hand and turned her head toward his, leaning down to kiss her, deepening the kiss almost right away. Bending her back upon the pillows, he ran his hand down her body to rest on her hip.

Lifting his head again, he smiled, looking into her eyes. "Did it help?" he whispered.

Awestruck, Cora nodded.

"Do you need another?" He smiled even wider.

"Yes, I think another would-"

He interrupted her, his mouth covering hers again, his hand moving between her legs, causing her to gasp with pleasure and surprise. He'd discovered the night before that if he touched her there in certain ways, in certain places, she'd sigh and moan and yelp against him in a way that was most marvelous, gratifying him to no end that he could cause her such bliss.

"Robert…." she moaned.

Concentrating upon what he was doing, Robert thought that Cora was merely expressing her approval of what he was doing. Kissing her neck, he continued his attentions between her thighs.

Cora realized she had failed to get his attention. When he'd moved his head to kiss her throat, she'd noticed the clock. "Robert…" she nearly hissed this time, tugging a little on his hair.

The change in her voice combined with the pain caused as she pulled his hair when his head was already thumping finally got his attention. "Ouch, Cora! Am I hurting you?"

"No, not at all. It's wonderful."

"Then what's wrong?" He sat there, catching his breath, a puzzled look on his face.

Cora giggled. "My maid will be here any minute to wake me with a breakfast tray. And your valet is probably in your room right now scratching his head and wondering where you are." She continued to giggle.

"Oh," he said, somewhat disappointed. "Right. I suppose I should go."

"Robert, don't look so glum, darling." His heart jumped a bit at the endearment. Cora pulled his head to hers and whispered into his ear. "We shall meet again in just a little while, we'll take a lovely walk together, and then, this afternoon…." She paused to nibble on his earlobe, then continued, "…you will be all mine again until the dressing bell."

Drawing his head away, his face was painted with a wide grin. "It sounds like a good plan." He kissed her once more, tenderly, before caressing her cheek and getting up.

"Might you hand me my chemise, Robert?" Cora watched as he picked up his nightclothes and began putting them on.

"Your what?" he asked, fumbling with his buttons.

"The white garment lying across the chair at the vanity." She pointed and giggled again.

"Yes, right." He handed the garment to her, grinning. "I'm sure your lady's maid would be utterly scandalized to find her mistress in this state of undress, wouldn't she?" He kissed her cheek before walking over to put on his dressing gown.

"Utterly," she agreed, grinning, slipping the white undergarment over her head and tugging it down over her, then pulling the bedclothes up around her again.

Pausing at the door, Robert turned and looked at her, smiling. "Cora?"

"Yes, Robert?" She smiled back at him.

His face grew serious. "I had an excellent Valentine's Day – and night – with you."

Cora's eyes softened, and she looked at him tenderly. "So did I."

Robert smiled again. "I'll see you in just a little while, Cora."

She nodded and smiled, a lump in her throat preventing her from speaking.

Closing her door, Robert turned, almost colliding with the maid who was hurrying to bring her mistress her breakfast tray.

"Pardon me," Robert apologized. Clearing his throat, a bit flustered to be found outside his wife's door in his dressing gown, he added, "Good morning. Er, let me." The maid appeared to be too astonished to speak, her eyes about to pop out of their sockets. Reddening, Robert opened the door for her, taking one last glance at Cora, catching her eye and winking at her and causing her to turn red as well, before closing the door again.


Robert and Cora set out a couple of hours later, Cora having chosen a dress that Robert had admired on her once before. Robert told her how very fine she looked, smiling as she took his arm, but he couldn't get the image out of his head of her in the emerald green scarf, the porcelain curve of her hip just visible, teasing him, her hair falling loose over her shoulders. He wasn't sure any dress in her wardrobe could come close to that.

They walked along, no fixed goal in mind, wandering in and out of shops, talking, stopping to chat with acquaintances, many of whom they had not seen since the end of the Season. Robert glanced at her furtively, impressed anew at how she carried herself, at how she appeared oblivious to the sometimes pointed remarks directed at her and her American-ness (although he knew she was all too aware of them), and at how she could often bite back with her quick wit and subtlety, in a way that often left the recipient with a dazed look on his or her face, Robert sure that they were wondering if she had meant her statements as digs, or had made them in all innocence.

Robert found himself admiring her all over again, as he had during their courtship. And, now, months later, he actually admired her more, because he better appreciated how much courage it had taken her to leave everything she had known behind and embark on this life. With him. No matter how undeserving he was.

For her part, Cora was rather relishing taking the snobby and intolerant among her husband's acquaintance down a peg or two. Just because she was an American and new money didn't make her rubbish. Certain drunken behavior last night aside, she was a lady, raised among the upper class, associating in highest circles in America, and as much as these people's petty remarks might cut her, she knew that she was every bit as good as they were.

And, what was more, she knew Robert knew it too.

The two shared luncheon and then took a long walk in Hyde Park. Several hours later, they decided it was time for tea. They found a tea room, speaking briefly with a few more couples they knew, but ultimately settling down for an excellent tea, sharing long looks and cheeky grins, not heeding the people around them.

Pressing Cora's hand, Robert stood up. "I'll take care of the bill. I won't be long, and then we can walk back to the hotel, yes?" He looked at her hopefully, a gleam in his eye.

Cora grinned. "Yes."

Robert left the table, and Cora glanced back behind her to watch him go before she turned her gaze around the room. Finishing her tea, she looked up again to find a gentleman standing by their table.

"Why, if it isn't the future Lady Grantham!" he said, picking up her hand and kissing it warmly.

"Sir Alistair, how nice to see you again. Please, sit a moment and tell me how you've been." Cora indicated a chair next to her. "Tea?"

"Yes, thank you." He sat next to her and smiled. "I must say, you're looking very lovely, my dear."

Pouring tea, she blushed and smiled. "Alistair, don't call me that. I'm a married woman now."

Returning from settling the bill, Robert froze when he saw Cora sitting at their table with a man he thought he recognized from somewhere. He'd come back just in time to hear his wife's last comment, and he was curious to find out what this was all about. Spotting a fern against the wall only a few steps away, Robert quietly stole behind it, crouching a bit to be sure he was completely covered, straining his ears so he wouldn't miss a word.

"Yes, you're a married woman. You could have been married to me, if you wanted." Alistair kept smiling at her, sipping his tea.

Cora put her hands in her lap, sitting up straighter, a little uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Yes, I know. You asked me enough times."

Robert held his breath. This was news to him. He thought he had been the only one to ask her to marry him.

Alistair cocked his head at her. "Why didn't you accept?"

"It's complicated, Alistair." She looked down, spinning her wedding ring around on her finger.

Putting his teacup on the table, he leaned forward slightly. "Does he love you? I did – do."

Cora lifted her eyes and thought about lying to him. Instead, she shook her head. "No. He doesn't."

Robert felt his chest constrict painfully at the sadness in her voice. But I want to make you happy, a voice screamed inside his head. Didn't you say you were happy?

"You deserve love, my darling. You deserve to be loved." Alistair leaned even closer to her, saying in a loud whisper that Robert could still hear in his hiding place behind the fern, "Let me love you."

Astonished and confused, Cora drew back from him a trifle. "Alistair… what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want you, Cora." He whispered softer now. "Please, let me come to you."

Feeling his blood boil and his head about to explode, Robert nearly bowled over the fern to wring the fellow's neck. How dare he! How dare that despicable cad proposition his wife!

But Robert stood still. For some reason, possibly some masochistic one, Robert wanted to see how she responded. He peered between the fronds of the fern to see what he could of her face.

Cora blanched. "Alistair!" she hissed. "How can you ask me that?" She desperately wanted to escape. What on earth was taking Robert so long with the bill?

"You just said your husband doesn't love you. You must be terribly unhappy. And I'm sure he isn't satisfying you the way he should. Perhaps he can't. But you're a beautiful woman, and I would love to be the one to satisfy you." Alistair touched her arm, a smirk on his face.

Turning even whiter, Cora jerked her arm away, and stood up abruptly, knocking the chair back behind her. Her voice shook, but she said loudly and clearly, "He may not love me, but I love him. And he makes me happy. Very happy. And satisfied." She trembled, her chest heaving with emotion.

Alistair stood as well, not even bothering to whisper now. "Oh, my lovely. Don't be like that. We can have a little fun of our own, can't we?" He raised his hand and touched her cheek.

Cora's face turned red now, her eyes flashing in anger. But before she could even push his hand away, Robert came charging toward them, like a bull with a red flag waving in front of him. Seizing Alistair roughly by the collar with his left hand and dragging him a few steps away from his wife, Robert punched him soundly on the jaw, then shoved him backwards, causing the man to stumble and fall.

By this juncture everyone in the tea room had gone quiet, watching the scene unfolding in front of them. Sprawled on the floor, Alistair held his jaw and glowered up at Robert, who loomed over him, fists still clenched and his breathing heavy. Standing up against the table, her fingers curled beneath the edge of it for support, Cora continued to tremble, her eyes wide and moving from one man to the other, waiting to see what would happen next.

Robert pointed the forefinger of his left hand violently at the man lying at his feet. "If you ever, ever touch my wife again – if you ever so much as approach her again – I guarantee you'll end up with more than a broken jaw!"

Turning on his heel, he took Cora by the arm and steered her away, not giving the man a second glance. Guiding her to the foyer and helping her on with her coat, he winced as he used his right hand. Once out on the sidewalk, Robert hailed an hansom cab and bundled Cora into it, wanting to get back to the hotel as soon as possible.

Cora bit her lip, seeing that his face was still thunderous and that he cradled his right hand in his left. She leaned toward him. "Robert, I –"

Robert shook his head. "Not now, Cora."

Nodding, Cora shrank back again, looking out the window, not wanting him to see her tears at how angry he sounded, how angry he must be at her for what happened.

Feeling her move away from him, he looked at her face, thinking he saw sunlight glistening off the one part of her cheek he could see – tears. God, what had he done? He'd punched a man and it had upset her. Why couldn't he for once have kept his confounded temper?

The rest of the drive was silent, Cora attempting to surreptitiously remove all traces of tears with her handkerchief as they approached the hotel. Robert helped her out of the cab with his left hand, drawing her arm through his.

"I'd like my maid, Robert," Cora said quietly as they neared the desk in the lobby.

Robert nodded, and they went to the desk to make this request, and for Robert to ask that some ice be brought up.

When he held the suite door open for her, Cora swept past him, going straight to her room and closing the door, not even sparing a glance for him. Robert heaved a great sigh and sat down on the settee, waiting for the arrival of ice, moving his fingers gingerly to ascertain how much damage he'd done to his hand, wondering how much damage he'd done with respect to his wife.

Before too long, Cora's maid entered, bearing ice. Thanking her, he watched her knock on Cora's door and go in. For the few seconds the door was ajar to admit the maid, Robert could see Cora sitting on the bed, her hand covering her face.

Damnit, Robert thought. Damnit.

Applying ice to his hand, Robert sat there, drowning in his own wretched contemplations. He looked up hopefully when a little while later the door to Cora's room opened, but her lady's maid simply closed the door behind her, walked past him with a polite nod, and left the suite. He continued to stare at the door, remembering what they were meant to be doing right now and cursing himself for ruining it – and not even ruining that in particular, but ruining their time spent together, however they were going to spend it. Cursing himself for causing her to feel like there needed to be a door between them. Hating that she had shut him out.

Well, am I just going to sit here like an idiot? If I've done the harm, the least I can do is try to fix it. I'm supposed to be cheering her up, not making things worse. Robert got up, putting the handkerchief filled with half-melted ice aside, and walked to her door, knocking upon it with his left hand. "Cora?"

"Come in." At least she didn't sound like she was crying.

Robert took a deep breath and opened the door. Cora sat across the chaise, a book in hand. It was upside down, and she seemed to be staring at it without really seeing it.

"Cora, please look at me," he entreated her.

Blinking a few times first, she raised her head, her eyes meeting his. He looked…dejected.

"I want to apologize for my behavior back there. I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me. I made a scene, and I'm sure I embarrassed you. I'm…." He took another deep breath. "I'm so sorry." She didn't move or speak, so he went on. "I just got so angry at the – the audacity of that – that villain…" He stumbled over his words, getting upset all over again thinking about it. He began to pace, his unhurt hand curling into a fist. "How could he presume to talk to you that way? To you?" Here he began mumbling, his eyes on the floor, still pacing, shaking his head. Cora thought she heard him say, "…most magnificent creature on earth…sully the very air she breathes…would have liked to have wrung his blasted neck…."

And Cora realized he hadn't been angry with her at all. He'd simply been angry. She ventured to interrupt his muttering tirade. "Robert?"

He stopped, lifting his head to look at her. "Yes, darling," he said rather absentmindedly, his head still full of what he would love to do to that rascal.

Cora's heart beat faster. "In the cab? You weren't upset with me, were you?" she asked. But it was less a question and more of an appeal for affirmation of her thoughts.

Bringing his mind completely back to Cora, he looked shocked. "Why would I be upset with you? You were the one wronged, Cora – by him and by me!" Forgetting his injury, he jabbed himself in the chest with his right hand, then let out a yelp of pain.

Tossing the book aside and jumping up, Cora hastened to him, taking his hand by the wrist, looking at the red patches on the backs of his fingers. "Robert, let's go into the other room. You need to keep ice on that." She led him over to the settee and sat beside him, pulling her own handkerchief out of her pocket, putting ice in it, and, resting his hand on hers, applied the ice to his fingers as gently as possible.

Robert watched her attend to his hand with quiet tenderness, flinching slightly when the ice touched his fingers. Then he asked her calmly, "Cora, what made you think I was upset with you?"

She shrugged a little, feeling a bit silly about it now, her eyes remaining on his hand. "You didn't want me to talk to you about it. In the cab."

"Oh, Cora. I'm sorry if you thought that meant I was upset with you. I merely needed to calm down first. Otherwise I would have ended up shouting. That fellow had me seeing red. And – my hand hurt. I couldn't concentrate," he ended pathetically.

"And I'm sorry I assumed you were angry at me." She picked up the ice-filled handkerchief and examined the backs of his fingers again. "Do you think anything is broken?" She finally looked up at him in concern.

"No, I don't think so." He flexed his fingers, grimacing, but able to move them fully. "They just…hurt. Probably bruised." He lifted his eyes to hers. "I do hope I actually broke that bloody bastard's jaw, though. He deserved it."

Cora chuckled softly. "Alistair always was a bit too insistent."

"He asked you to marry him a number of times, you said." Robert refused to use the blaggard's name.

"I didn't know you heard all of that. I could be mad at you for not coming to rescue me sooner, you know." Before he could respond to this, she continued, "Yes, he asked me no fewer than ten times over the Season, I'm sure. His persistence and his impatience are not the reason I said no to him, but they confirmed what I'd already thought about him." She looked down at Robert's hand again, tracing a finger lightly over the red spots on his fingers. "I told him no because my heart already belonged to someone else."

Robert gazed upon the top of her head where it was bent over his hand, watched her fingers trace over his own. Exhaling very slowly before he spoke, he said, "To me."

Looking up at him, she nodded at him, with a small smile. "To you." She brought his hand to her lips and kissed each red mark oh-so-gently. "My protector." As she put the ice back on his hand, her expression changed, and she looked down again. She seemed perplexed. "Robert, if you heard our conversation, why didn't you come sooner?"

Embarrassed, he cleared his throat, struggling to figure out how to say what he needed to. "I wanted to hear what your answer was. What your answers were to his questions." Saying this, remembering the night before, he knew it was stupid, and he felt horrible.

Cora wasn't sure how to react to this. Hadn't she made it clear already that he was the only one she wanted? "I don't understand. Why?" Her voice got very small. "I thought you would know the answer."

"He offered you something I haven't. He said he loved you. And I heard how sad you were to tell him that I didn't. I was… I was jealous." He almost strangled over the words.

Her eyes flew up to meet his. "Jealous?" Mixed in with the confusion and surprise was a kind of hope on her face.

Robert nodded. "Yes. But then you told him you were happy with me despite everything else, and I felt like I could breathe again. And then, he.…" His brows drew together with fury at the very thought. "He said those things, making those insinuations, and he dared to touch you, and I just – I couldn't hold on anymore. I could have done more than punch him. I certainly wanted to."

Cora's eyes had taken on a tender aspect as he told her this. She smiled at him. "It's a good thing you didn't. You might have actually broken your hand. And then we wouldn't be able to carry out our planned afternoon very well, could we?"

The way she looked at him made his breath catch. "So, you forgive me? For eavesdropping? For doubting you? For making a scene? For being a world class fool?"

She kept smiling at him, nodding. "Yes. I forgive you. For all of that."

It was his turn to be perplexed. "How? Why?" He was convinced more than ever that he was the most fortunate of men to have such a wife.

Reaching up to touch his cheek, Cora whispered, "Because you were jealous. Because you got angry on my behalf. Because you punched a man who had the gall to ask me to be his lover. Because you were afraid that I might say still say yes." Tears glistened in her eyes.

Robert wasn't sure exactly how all of these things added up to forgiveness, but he was relieved that she was willing to give it. "What could I ever do to deserve you?"

Cora's tears would not be held back any longer. As they fell, she looked at him raptly, adoringly, whispering again. "Robert Crawley, you really don't understand why I chose you, why I fell head over heels for you, do you?"

He reached his other hand up to wipe her tears away, resting the hand on her cheek. He shook his head. "No. I don't." He knew the reason her mother had allowed the match was for his title and estate, and he knew Cora married him because she'd fallen for him. But he was still baffled as to why. Sir Alistair, for all his persistence, was far more handsome and probably more charming than he was. And perhaps knew how to keep a woman happy, whereas Robert was still finding his way around, as it were.

Lifting his hand from her cheek, Cora knitted her fingers through his, then moved closer to him on the settee, her eyes shining. "I chose you for so many reasons. Every person I talked to – even the ones who described you as shy and awkward, or that you had a temper – also described you as kind and considerate. That you were intelligent and well-read, but never sneered at those who weren't. And I could see for myself that you were decent, caring, and honorable." Then she lowered her eyelashes, a blush creeping into her cheeks. "Not to mention almost unbearably handsome."

Robert chuckled, "'Unbearably handsome'? I think Rosamund and most of her friends would beg to differ." He rubbed his thumb across her hand.

Cora looked at him square in the eye. "Rosamund isn't the one looking at you. I am. I don't think you know how you set my heart beating when you looked at me, smiled at me, for the first time across that ballroom. I didn't know at the time who you were or that I would fall so completely in love with you. But, oh, my darling, I did. And I've never regretted it."

Finding he couldn't tear his eyes from hers, Robert gazed at her. "Cora," he choked out. "Never? You've never regretted it? Even this past month or so?"

She appeared near tears again, but she only shook her head, slowly. "No. Not even then." She turned her head. "I've been gloomy, Robert, I'll admit. And I'm sorry for it. I've been terribly homesick, and I've felt very much alone, and not a little out of my element." Turning her head back to him, she smiled. "But I've never regretted choosing you."

Robert cleared his throat, feeling near tears himself, something that almost never happened to him. "I've never regretted choosing you either." He squeezed her hand. "Ever. And I do want to make you happy. I don't think I've ever wanted anything more."

Cora's smile widened. "I'm glad to hear that, Robert." She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, hesitantly, but also expectantly.

Untangling his fingers from hers, he placed his hand behind her head, pulling her closer, kissing her more intently. Hearing her sigh – a contented, happy sigh – he deepened the kiss even more, teasing her tongue with his.

After a few moments, Cora broke the kiss, looking at him tenderly, running her hand through the dark hair at his temple. "How is your hand?"

Robert had actually forgotten about his hand, lost as he was in her words and her kiss – and in his own musings. "I think it'll be alright."

Removing the ice, Cora examined it again. "They're still red," she said, referring to the backs of his fingers. "Are you sure nothing's broken? I would hate to think you broke your hand because of me…. Although…." She blushed again. "I have to admit, watching you punch someone – for me – it was quite exhilarating."

"Was it?" He grinned at her. "You looked terrified."

"I was. But also… exhilarated. It was so… masterful, Robert." She barely stopped herself from giggling like a schoolgirl.

He liked that she thought of him as "masterful" although he doubted he was, and he looked at her properly for the first time since they'd left the tea room. She was decked out in a somewhat loose, frilly, satiny garment in a soft yellow. He ran his hand along a ruffle on the bodice. "Well, if you say so. All I know is I was angry at the fellow, and he deserved it – and more." His eyes remained on the dress. "What do you call this? I'm not sure I've seen you wear this before."

Cora's lips twitched. "It's a tea gown, Robert. And I generally only wear it in my room before dinner. It's comfortable, and it allows me to breathe properly without that horrid corset." She watched Robert's eyes move over the gown. "Also, I don't need my maid to get in and out of it."

Robert's eyes fastened upon hers, and a grin wreathed his lips. "Really? I'm liking the sound of the 'tea gown' more and more. No corset you say?"

At the shake of her head, Robert, feeling both an ardent need to please her and very bold, lifted both his hands and cupped her breasts through the gown. Cora closed her eyes, tilting her head back slightly as he moved his thumbs over her nipples through the fabric. "Robert…" she breathed.

"You're not nearly close enough," he said, putting his hands around her waist and pulling her onto his lap. Capturing her mouth in a kiss, he caressed her delicate curves through the gown until he could bear it no longer. Robert began groping with fastenings, desperate to touch her skin again.

"Robert!" she exclaimed. "You'll tear it!"

"I can't help it," he whispered huskily against her neck. "You drive me quite mad with desire, sweetheart."

Her heart running wild at this unexpected endearment, Cora touched her lips to his ear. "Tear it, Robert. Please."

As she continued to nibble on his ear, Robert ripped the tea gown open at the seams, finally freeing her of it completely and flinging it onto the floor. Then she moved away for a minute to divest herself of several petticoats, her chemise, and then her drawers. All the while, Robert watched her, fascinated, tugging off his cravat, jacket, waistcoat, shrugging off his braces, and beginning on his shirt buttons.

"Let me," Cora said, moving toward him, capturing his right hand and kissing the back of it tenderly. "I don't want you to hurt your hand more." Smiling at him, she slid the buttons out of their button holes and pushed the shirt off his shoulders, then started with his trousers.

Robert closed his eyes. He'd never had a woman undress him before, and he was having a difficult time keeping control of himself, wanting so much to rip off his own clothes and cover her with his body. But her concern for his injury was genuine, so he made a concerted effort. He did so want to please her.

Finally able to throw his trousers with her gown, he stood and made quick work of the rest of his clothes, standing naked – and very aroused – before her. Smirking, Cora looked up at him from her perch on the settee, then wrapped her fingers around him. "Oh, God," he moaned, closing his eyes. She reached her other hand around his behind, pulling him closer to her.

When he stood with his knees against the settee, Cora tentatively leaned forward and….

"Cora!" Robert looked down at her, shocked but also thrilled.

She drew back a little on the settee. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. Only, I read of it in a book, and the results seemed so pleasing…."

Clearing his throat, noisily, he remarked, "Although I'm slightly appalled at your choice of reading material, I must admit that I am curious to know the results." He had the grace to blush at this, and Cora, grinning, applied her mouth to him again, teasing him with her tongue.

Feeling as if his knees might buckle after several delicious moments of this, he whispered hoarsely, "Cora… I think I need to sit. What you're doing… it's most superb, but…" She released her hold on him, and he sat down beside her, breathing heavily. Looking over at her, he said, "Good God, woman. Will wonders never cease?"

Giving him a saucy look, she kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, "Let's hope not."

Robert grinned widely. "Thank heavens you're a reader." He winked at her.

"Oh, yes," she agreed. "I've always thought that women's education is very important."

Chuckling, Robert wrapped his hands around her tiny waist. "I think you have a most excellent argument for it, if you ask me." He pulled her toward him and kissed her.

"Robert," she whispered against his ear a few moments later. "I need you now."

He loved hearing her say that. "Shall we go into the bedroom?"

Cora surprised him by saying, "No, I want you right here."

Before he could utter another word or even twitch a muscle, she was straddling him on the settee, hovering over him, then settling down upon him, giving a sigh of relief when he was inside her.

Robert's eyes bulged with astonishment, amazement, awe – and delight. Cora's breasts were pressed up against his chest, and her eyes were very close to his. "Cora." He licked his lips. "Something else you learned from a book?"

"No, darling. Just something that seemed obvious and natural to me." Cora started to move against him, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through them both. Resting her hands upon his chest, playing with the soft curls there, she gazed at him and whispered. "Why? Does it not feel nice?" She leaned even closer to him, whispering against his lips. "It does to me."

Not even sure he was capable of speech, Robert simply nodded, closing his eyes. Trusting his instincts, he slid his hands beneath her buttocks to help her set up a rhythm that pleased them both, each gasping and moaning, until Cora's cries became short and sharp, almost squeaks, her head thrown back. Robert bent his head down and gently bit one of her nipples. At this, Cora groaned, sitting down hard upon him, pressing herself against him.

Feeling her convulsions and tremors around him was too much, and he also moaned deeply and became still, wrapping his arms around her back and embracing her, breathing hard into the hollow between her shoulder and neck.

When he could breathe enough to speak again, Robert, holding her close, said to her, "I knew, Cora, that when I chose you, I would never be bored. But I never counted on anything like this. You amaze and astound me." She drew back a little to look at him, her own heart still beating hard from their exertions. Robert continued, "And I'm not speaking only about this sort of thing." He grinned. "I mean, like this morning, how you were with those foolish people. You're extraordinary, Cora." He took her hand and kissed it, smiling warmly at her. "I adore you."

Cora, a bit overwhelmed with the pleasure of their activities and with his tender words, felt her heart become full with emotion. Managing not to cry, she whispered, "I adore you too," before kissing him tenderly and wrapping her arms around him.

The way Robert had started to speak to her, to look at her… it gave Cora hope.