Robert took his wife home.

They decided to walk, sending Rosamund's chauffeur back to her house. Hand in hand, they strolled along the London streets, exchanging tender looks and a range of smiles, from shy to amused to blissfully happy.

When they returned to the house, Cora did exactly as she'd said she would and telephoned O'Brien to bring her things back. Then they ensconced themselves in the drawing room with a large tea – neither of them having been able to eat lunch – and talked. And talked and talked. Robert told her everything that he should have told her from the beginning. She listened, and she put things into perspective for him – even more so than he'd already figured out for himself the day before – and she understood, as she always did, and even more than he ever hoped that she would. As he had so often in the last few days, Robert wondered why on earth he had ever doubted her ability to look past his own worst thoughts and fears about himself, doubted her quiet reassurance and her pragmatism, doubted her constant faith in him.

It made him see even more clearly what he could have lost. And what he never wanted to come close to losing ever again.

They parted only long enough to change for dinner. Robert told Avery that he wanted their dinner to be by candlelight. Cora smiled softly at him from across the table, every bit as beautiful to him that night as she'd been when they'd first met. Robert knew he needed to make up for lost time, so he brought up their Venice trip.

Cora's eyes lit up. "I thought you'd forgotten all about it," she said, with a hint of amusement.

"No, of course not." He smiled back at her. "And, you're right, what you said earlier. Knowing that Matthew and Tom won't hesitate to do anything that needs to be done in my absence, it frees me to take you away for two weeks and not worry about what might be going on with the estate. I can trust them." He took her hand, realizing for the first time that he did trust them. And he trusted her. "I have other responsibilities that are more important." Kissing her hand, he asked, "So, when do you want to go?"

Clasping his hand with tears in her eyes, Cora beamed at him. Her Robert had truly returned to her.

They spent dinner planning their holiday to Venice, then making plans for the rest of their time in London. The next day was Friday, the day they'd originally set to return to Downton. But Robert still had a meeting with Murray in the morning, and he wanted to take Cora shopping like he should have done in the first place. Thus, they decided to add a day to their trip, setting Saturday as their new day of departure. They also decided they would invite Henry and Margaret over for dinner the next night, if the two weren't already otherwise engaged.

Once dinner was over, Cora led Robert up the stairs to their bedroom. Sensing a sudden nervousness and hesitation from him after the door had closed behind them, she stood in front of him, gazing up into his face, and brushed her hand gently across his cheek. His eyes closed, as if just this simple touch were heaven to him.

His heart beat harder when he heard her whisper in his ear, "Tell me again how much you love me."

Keeping his eyes closed, he found her arm, then, running his palm down it, found her hand. Clasping it warmly in his, he raised it to his lips, then whispered against it. "It's not something I can express adequately, Cora. All I know is that when you weren't here – I felt as if I didn't exist. Nothing," he continued whispering, opening his eyes to search hers, "nothing meant anything without you."

Cora blinked against her tears and leaned up to kiss his mouth. At first, the kiss was tender, until she threw her arms around his neck and prodded his lips apart with hers, her tongue seeking entry. His hesitation concerned her. Everything she did, every new way of touching, he would return with gentleness, even eagerness, but he seemed cautious somehow. So, endeavoring to reassure him, Cora led the way for them. She slid her hands down from his neck to his collar, then his lapels, grasping them as they kissed, and prompting him to go with her as she walked backwards.

She stopped when her back hit the bedroom door, breaking the kiss to catch her breath and look at him lovingly. Once he realized where they were, however, his eyes grew wide with what she recognized as fear, and he tried to pull away from her with a "Cora, no, I –"

But her hands still firmly grasped his lapels. "Robert, please. I need something different to remember here. Please." Feeling that he wouldn't move away, she reached up with one hand and brushed it through his silvery locks.

Robert kept seeing her frightened face from that night in his mind; it alternated with the way she gazed at him now – with love and with an almost pleading expression. "Cora, I can't. What I did – "

Cora nodded at him sagely. "Robert, what you did the other night was wrong. I know you know that. So, please – show me what you should have done. Show me what you should have done to prove to me – to prove to yourself – that I belong to you." Her voice was now a whisper. "Because, oh darling, I do belong to you. Only you."

Closing his eyes, Robert took a deep breath, then opened them again, locking them with his wife's. If this is what she thought would help, then that's what he would do. The arms he'd had at his sides he now placed gently on her shoulders. Her dinner dress being sleeveless, he slowly caressed the bare skin along the length of her arms until he reached her hands – one still on his lapel and the other having come to rest on his chest. He took her hands in his and wove their fingers together, then, reluctantly, he pulled his eyes from hers in order to kiss around each wrist, paying special attention to her bruised one.

Meeting her eyes again, he raised her arms over her head, slowly, cautiously, and rested both of them against the door, his own next to them. His weight, instead of being on the backs of her hands or her wrists, he took onto his own forearms as he leaned himself against her – more like a full body caress. He pressed his forehead timidly to her own, his eyes still looking into hers. Placing a tender kiss to her lips, then her cheeks, he moved his head to her neck, and Cora closed her eyes, lost in the exquisite pleasure his lips and tongue gave her.

And then, she opened her eyes. He'd stopped kissing her, and his hands clutched hers as if clutching for life itself. She could feel hot wetness against her neck and collar bone. Then she realized his whole body shook. "Robert?" she whispered.

Robert nuzzled his head farther into her neck, shaking harder.

Cora felt tears sting her own eyes now. Very gently, she loosed her hands from his and began to stroke his hair. He didn't move; his arms remained above her head and his body flush with hers. "Please, darling, look at me." Cora brought her hands around to his face and tenderly lifted his head. His face was streaked with tears, and there seemed to be no end to them in sight; his eyes were closed tightly. "Robert, look at me."

Blinking his eyes open briefly, he closed them again to shut out her sympathy and concern. They were almost as bad as her fear had been. "He's right. I don't deserve you. Oh, Cora, I'm so sorry." He shook and trembled, and he had to swallow hard in order to even breathe. "How can you ever forgive me?"

"Robert, I told you already I forgive you. I know that wasn't you." She ran gentle fingers along his face, wiping his tears as they fell, smoothing the lines in his forehead.

At this his eyes opened and focused on hers. "But Cora," he whispered, "you can't know how afraid I was – I am – knowing it's something I'm capable of. Because whatever it is, it must be part of me, somehow." His tears continued to fall, warm on her hands. Her own tears fell now too; her heart aching for his guilt, his sadness, his fear. "I can't be the one to put that look on your face again. I can't be the person you fear. I can't hurt you again."

Cora held his eyes with hers. "Darling, I know you won't let it happen again. I know it as well as I know the touch of your hand upon mine and the sound of your voice. You won't."

He closed his eyes again and bowed his head. "What if I do?"

Before she could respond, Robert slid his arms down the door and around her waist, pulling her into a tight embrace, his head nuzzling just below her clavicle, his ear over her heart. Cora wrapped her arms around his neck, cradling his head against her, threading her fingers into his hair. She wanted so much to convey to him her own trust in him – the trust that he thought he'd lost. She realized that the person it was going to be most difficult to convince to trust in him – in his goodness and in his love for her – would be himself. Very softly, she spoke two words into his ear, breaking the silence between them: "You won't."

For a long while, Cora simply held him, their tears eventually running out. Once Robert seemed completely calm again, she kissed the bruise on his forehead, his temple, his cheek, then took him by the hand and sat him on the bed. Then she rang the bell and disappeared into the washroom, turning on the taps for the bath. Robert observed her actions with curiosity.

At a knock on the door, Cora came back into the room. "O'Brien," she said to the woman just beyond Robert's line of vision, "I won't be needing you tonight, and please tell Bates that he can go on to bed as well. Thank you."

Robert heard the "Yes, my lady," from O'Brien, and turned to Cora as she closed the door again.

"Cora, you don't have to –"

Standing in front of him, she bent down and lightly touched her lips to his to quiet him, her hands on either side of his face. "Shhh, my love."

"But, Cora –" he protested once more.

Stroking his face, Cora shook her head. "Robert, please, let me take care of you. Taking care of you makes me whole too."

He recognized his own words from earlier in the afternoon, and it was enough to bring fresh tears to his eyes. Seeing in hers a quiet resolve and steady tenderness, he nodded. For, just as he hadn't taken care of her in the past few weeks, he knew he hadn't allowed her to take care of him either, as she had so longed to do.

Leading him by the hand into the washroom, seeing the bath was full enough, she turned off the taps, then stood in front of him. With a gentle efficiency, she rid him of his garments and had him get into the steaming bath water while she took off her own clothes and tied up her hair. Robert watched her, his heart filling with love and gratitude. When Cora was ready, she instructed him to move up a bit, and he gave her a hand to help her settle in the bath behind him. It was somewhat of a tight fit, but they still had some room to move.

Taking the soap and sponge, Cora bathed her husband, hoping to wash away some of his fears and insecurities along with any lingering doubts that he may have had about her staying. Then, at his insistence, they carefully traded places, and he bathed her.

When he got to her left arm, he paused, examining the fresh bruises that had appeared from Stanton's grip upon it. Robert's face grew red, and he muttered indignantly, "I should have done more than toss that son of a bitch into a fountain."

Cora snapped her head around. "Robert!"

"I apologize for my language, Cora, but, honestly, I now regret having let him off so easily," he leaned down to kiss the dark marks upon her upper arm.

"Well, I told you to hit him, darling," she chuckled.

For the first time since dinner, he winked at her, grinning. "Yes, you did. And, as always, I should have listened to you." Then he looked back down at her arm, becoming solemn. "Are you hurt anywhere else, Cora?" His voice had a dangerous edge to it.

"No. At least, I don't think so." She waited until he was looking at her again, then she said, "Robert, will you promise me something?" At his nod, she touched his chin. "Promise me that if we ever meet up with that man again, you'll punch him?"

Slightly taken aback, Robert was silent. But he saw how serious she was about the request, and he lowered his eyes to the bruises on her arm before lifting them again to hers. "Yes, Cora. I will."

Kissing his cheek, she closed her eyes and leaned back against him, satisfied. He resumed washing her, hating Stanton every time he passed the sponge over her upper arm, hating himself all over again every time he saw the still noticeable bruises on her wrist. He meant to spend every day of the rest of his life making it up to her.

The water had turned tepid and their fingertips wrinkled before they were ready to leave the bath. They dried one another with soft towels and shared soft kisses, then helped one another into their night clothes. It had been an exhausting day, an exhausting evening, and neither had slept well for the past several days.

Thus, for the first time in over a week, Robert settled on his side of their bed and waited for Cora to nestle herself against his side, her head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest. Switching off the lamp, Robert wrapped his arms around her, sighing contentedly. He knew better than to think that everything was as it had been before. But he thought that at least they'd made a good start. Happy in that, he quickly followed Cora into the land of slumber.

Cora woke the next morning thinking she'd been dreaming. She was alone on her side of the bed. Frowning, she stretched and yawned, turning onto her back and reaching her arms out... touching something. It was Robert.

Smiling now, she scooted closer to him, becoming aware that he, too, was awake and watching her. He met her smile with his own and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"You must have rolled away at some point in the night, darling. With this summer heat hitting the city, we should remember to open the windows in the evening so the cool air can come in." Robert stroked her hair.

Cora nodded. "I expected you to be up and getting ready for your meeting, Robert. What a pleasant surprise you're still here." She snuggled closer to him.

Robert chuckled. "It's several more hours before I have to be at Murray's office. I thought we could have breakfast together, if you don't object."

"I don't object at all, my dear. I think it's a fine idea." Leaving a hand on his chest, she sat up on her elbow. "If you're hungry now, I'll ring for O'Brien to bring us some."

"No, you stay comfortable, Cora. I'll get up." Kissing her lightly, he got up and rang the bell. He rubbed his eyes and then smiled at her. "Have you decided where we'll go this afternoon?"

"Well, I want to get a few more things for Sybbie, and there's a specialty thread shop that I've been meaning to go to. I'm running out of a few things at home." She scrunched up her forehead in thought. Suddenly it cleared. "Also, I ordered the most magnificent dress. I need to go by the shop to see if it's done yet or if I'll have to have it sent up to Downton later."

"That sounds wonderful, dear." At the knock, Robert opened the door and told O'Brien to bring up breakfast for two. She looked slightly flabbergasted, but went anyway. Chuckling, he shut the door again. "Well, she's not used to that, is she?"

Cora laughed. "She's not the only one. But I'm glad you're here." She held out her hand to him.

Walking across to take it, he leaned down and kissed it before sitting next to her. "I'm glad you're here."

Soon they were situated on the bed with breakfast trays – Cora with her coffee, Robert with his tea. Robert playfully stole a piece of her bacon, so she threw a scone at him, laughing merrily.

When O'Brien came back up with one of the other maids to take the trays away again, she handed her mistress an envelope.

Cora eyed it askance. It was blank on the outside. "How did this come, O'Brien?"

"Mr. Avery said it arrived by courier, my lady."

"Thank you. You can come back in an hour."

With a nod, O'Brien followed the other maid out of the room.

Cora stared at the envelope in her hand, beginning to tremble. "Robert, I'm afraid to open this."

Putting his arm around her, he said, "Isn't it better to know what's in it?" He spoke softly, not exactly sure he wanted to know what was in it either.

Slowly, Cora nodded. She opened the envelope and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Turning it so they both could see, she unfolded it, and then, reading it, put a hand to her mouth. "Robert…" she whispered.

"I see it, Cora," he growled, feeling the heat rise in his face and clasping Cora tighter to him.

Cora suddenly turned to face him, her eyes glittering with tears. "It's my fault."

Robert stared at her, thunderstruck. "What on earth can you mean, Cora? That –" he jabbed a finger at the line on the page – "is not your fault. Stanton is obviously a lunatic."

"But, Robert, I encouraged him. I was so stupid. I wanted to make you jealous, so I encouraged him, even though I was never entirely comfortable with him." She swallowed hard and said, "It's my fault. All of it."

Sitting up straighter, Robert took her gently by the shoulders and looked her directly in the eye, speaking in a firm, but calm, voice. "Listen to me, Cora. I don't want you to ever say anything like that again. If you were trying to make me jealous, then I deserved it for being an ass. But you are not at fault. You did not make Stanton behave the way he has, any more than you made me behave the way I did. Stanton may not be all there, but he's definitely a grown man, in charge of his own actions, just as I am. None of it is your fault. Do you understand me?"

Cora nodded. Then she whispered, "Robert, what do we do?"

"It's simple, Cora. We don't let him get to us. We'll do what we'd already planned. I'll make sure Avery knows not to let in any visitors. I'll go see Murray and come home. This afternoon, we will go visit the shops together. Tonight we'll have Margaret and Henry over, and tomorrow we'll be on the train home." He paused before adding, "And if that bastard comes anywhere near either of us, I will tear him limb from limb. I won't let him touch you ever again, Cora."

Nodding once more, she lay her head on his chest, letting the paper fall to the floor as Robert embraced her, creating a protective shelter around her.

In Stanton's hand was one line: You will be mine.

"But it's so hard, my love,
To say it to you out loud."