AN: Rated K+

This one is set after Rose's ball in the CS special, when she opens with the Prince. Just a note to say Cora thinks about a Prince in this chapter and for those of you that haven't read my story To Watch A Future Unfurl, the Prince mentioned is Prince Christian Victor, he was the son of Princess Helena and grandson of Queen Victoria. He sadly died in the Boer War and I wanted to honour him in my other story and I have done so again here. He was essentially one of Cora's suitors. Thinking about it, I think he came up in a previous chapter of this, I'm sorry if I confused anyone!

On another note, this one was requested by Settees-Under-Siege and happened to mirror a chapter I'd been messing around with for a few weeks! The request was Cobert dancing in their bedroom the night after Rose's ball. Enjoy!


Cora sits in bed throughly content, if a little nostalgic, very nostalgic. Watching Rose swirl around the ballroom in the arms of a Prince makes her mind reel, what if she'd actually danced in the arms of her Prince all those years ago, would that have changed the course of her life? It is in this nostalgic recollections that Robert finds her.

"Congratulations on a beautiful ball my dear, you did Rose proud." He dumps his dressing gown over the chair and climbs into the bed beside her, pushing the numerous layers of unnecessary bedding to one side.

"Thank you darling." He kisses her gently on the cheek realising she seems a little distant, tiredness he muses, she must be shattered. And yet, he thinks, as he moves to extinguish the lamp, she was so happy only half an hour ago. He turns to face her again and finds her still with the dreamy gaze she wore when he entered.

"Is something the matter?" Cora had rather hoped he hadn't noticed, it seemed she'd got away with it when he'd reached for the light.

"No. I was just thinking." Robert almost growls that he knows that. He thinks she's about to elaborate but then her mouth closes again and she doesn't. But, from experience he knows it's best to have everything out in the open, sometimes when you're worried about something another person throws new light on it.

"About...?" She rather hoped he wasn't going to press her, but she knows she should have known better. She's not sure why it bothers her to talk out loud to him about the Prince. Robert knows about him, but it's strange she thinks, to never have contemplated life with him until this point, am I bored of my marriage? No, she knows she's not, she loves Robert, adores her girls, she even finds amusement in her mother-in-law, but she supposes ever human being will always wonder at 'what if...'

"My ball, all those years ago, Rose...the Prince." She's relieved when she hears him laugh out loud.

"I don't think you're going to make a match between Rose and the Prince. As much as I hate to say it, he's more likely to take you as his mistress." Cora now laughs, his mind does jump to some strange conclusions.

"No, you quite mistake me. I only meant it reminded me of my season."

"Yes, I see. The Prince and his fascination with Rose reminded you of your encounters with Prince Christian, although, if memory serves you didn't open your debut ball with a Prince." She snuggles against his side, draping an arm over his body. It's at that moment that Cora realises all her thoughts from the last few minutes are pointless, in all the important things she found her man. And she knows that her 'what ifs' would have been far greater if she'd married the Prince.

"You're wrong again, on both accounts. Firstly, I did open my debut ball with my Prince. And my musing was over whether Rose will find her true Prince. The man who will make her tingle all over by merely walking into a room."

"I didn't know Prince Christian had this effect on you." She rolls her eyes, why is he such a tease?

"He didn't, as you know full well. I meant you, my true Prince. I want Rose to be as happy with her choice of husband as I've been. Upon which point I would like to make a request," she feels his stare on her as she hops from the bed and makes a perfect twirl into the open space of their big bedroom in Grantham house, "dance with me." He grins as she reaches her arms out to him and when he scrambles across the sheets and almost trips as he alights from the bed Cora hears the tiny giggle that echoes from her throat around the room. A second later his arm is around her waist, the other clasping her hand, which he pulls immediately to his chest. Their already close stance is made more intimate when he leans down and hums a waltz in her ear. She rests her head against his shoulder as he seemingly whirls her faster and faster around the room. Her nightdress swirls at her ankles and she's not unaware of the way Robert's hand is slowly bunching the fabric beneath the hand that still caresses her waist. She doesn't comment, it has been some weeks, when they were back at Downton, since they had last done anything more than shared a few chaste kisses and she was not going to deny him the pleasure of intimacy when she craved it as well. They had danced earlier at the ball, in the huge ballroom downstairs, the eyes of the congregation upon them but the this, this was better, not just because the was held intimately against him but because they were themselves, neither having to pretend to be the perfect host or hostess. They were just a pair of lovers dancing to a very quiet waltz in their night clothes, she was stood before him as plain as she could be, and it didn't bother her.

Robert clutches her to him, desperate to give her whatever she wants to lift her from the gloom she was in moments before. It's lovely, he marvels to be able to dance with her so close to him, it's a luxury society deprives from him. Not only is the sensation of dancing with Cora always nice, but when they are alone and dressed so scarcely, as they are now, he feels he can be himself. He's knows she won't judge him for what she says as other people that one has to dance with at these balls do. He doesn't notice how the fabric of her nightdress is bundling in his hand, all he focuses on is the waltz, the tune he hums beside her ear and the smell of her lavender perfume that keeps him rooted beside her, the smell that burns at his nostrils and that he doesn't want to leave behind. He notes that she takes a breath, a deep breath and he chuckles inwardly, he'd heard those breaths before when she was either thinking about being intimate with him, or was being so. He leans a little closer to her and seizes his melody, when she continues to sway he knows just how far away she is, lost in her own world.

"Rose doesn't have a large enough dowry to attract a man like me though. Does she?" She moves her head from his shoulder as her mind, that was totally lost in the rhythmic melody he was humming, is thrown into confusion. She knows her eyebrows have knitted together as she looks up at him, but if he notices he chooses to wait for her to figure out what on earth he is trying to say. When her mind finally makes the connection with the conversation she thought they'd finshed ten minutes ago she blushes and nods. "And, if I'm really honest, she's not even bordering on beautiful enough." She feels his breath tickling over her face and she reaches her hands up to weave in his hair, when she parts her lips in anticipation of his kiss it's his finger that comes to meet them. "Princes, even the real ones, like something new, different, exotic. A girl from America with chocolate, bordering on raven, dark hair, porcelain white skin and the most intoxicating blue eyes he's ever seen." She blushes at his praise but before she has time to return the compliment his lips have sought hers, his tongue already evoking sensations in her mouth. When their lips part for a second, both of them rather short of breath, each desperate to fulfil the sensations the other so craves, she whispers quietly in the night air.

"That girl from America fell for the most intoxicating blue eyes she'd ever seen too." His lips trap hers again and they each lose themselves in the extent of the others love.