"You look…" Robert had started when Cora had appeared in the doorway to his study, ready to leave for the Calloways'.
She was gratified that he could not continue; indeed, it spoke more flattery than any word could have done.
"Shall we be on our way, then?" asked Cora, sparing her husband the task of finding his words. She took the lead seamlessly, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm and leading him out to the waiting carriage. He handed her in, then settled in next to her. As the door closed, his fingers tightened around her gloved ones, and he did not let go for the entire journey to the Calloway estate.
Laurel was waiting for them upon their arrival.
"Bobby!" she exclaimed, reaching for his hand. When Robert turned to hand Cora out of the carriage, Laurel froze, and Cora had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing.
"And Lady D-" added Laurel tactfully, her cheeks blazing.
"Please, if you are on such intimate terms with my husband, you must call me Cora," interrupted Cora. Robert's hand still lingered on her back, giving her confidence she would not have normally have possessed, and Lady Laurel nodded her head a bit ridiculously and beamed insincerely.
"What a cozy party we three shall be!" she chirped, reaching for Cora's hand and squeezing it. "When Robert told me about you, I knew that we should be friends. I am sure that he did not even begin to touch on your marvelous qualities at all."
"Really?" asked Cora, beginning to enjoy herself. "Because he did not find time to mention you to me at all. How curious. But I shall enjoy getting to know your qualities on my own terms."
Laurel merely blinked at that, before barking a laugh that resembled a shriek and moving away quickly. Cora felt a momentary pang of triumph, followed closely by the slow heaviness of guilt. She should not have given in to her catty side, no matter how the woman provoked her. After all, Cora had already won. She had obtained her future Earl and a title. Beyond that, her husband shared her bed. It would not do to rub it in. Perhaps she had been spending too much time around the Countess of late.
As Laurel moved away, Cora took a moment to take in her surroundings. She had performed her requisite newlywed calls around both London and the countryside, but those weeks had been such a whirl of getting used to Downton and to her in-laws that she found she remembered hardly a second of it. At any rate, she had not visited the Calloway estate in that round of calls, and now that she was here, she could see why.
The house was far smaller than Downton, and it rambled along in a ramshackle way that bespoke the eccentricity of its owners. It seemed a little worse for wear, as well, but Cora supposed that Lady Laurel's husband's fortune was seeing to its repair.
Was this what Downton would have looked like, had she not saved it?
The thought took Cora by surprise, as did the sadness that followed it. She had not realized that she already felt so fond of Downton, but the vision she had of its proud walls crumbling and its regal rooms dusty and faded made her throat ache. Without realizing it, she squeezed Robert's arm.
"Are you quite well?" he asked, concerned by the sadness on his wife's face.
"Quite," said Cora hurriedly, forcing a smile. "I was just reminded of home."
It was not a lie at all, Cora realized as the words left her mouth. Downton Abbey was her home now, although she was sure that she did not know when in the past half-year it had happened. Somewhere down the line, she had forgotten to yearn for the New York townhouse and Newport mansion that had formed her joint-home for the first two decades of her life. Enormous, drafty, marvelous Downton had taken their places in her heart.
"Did you have soirees like this in the United States, then?" asked Robert with surprise.
"Oh, young people made up parties all the time," laughed Cora. "We often met on the beach at night around large fires, or on people's patios, if the wind off the ocean was too strong."
"Are you sure that was quite proper?" asked Robert again.
"We were chaperoned, of course," said Cora quickly, "Which is more than I can say for this soiree."
"I am sure that Mr. Groves and Lady Laurel count as chaperone enough," replied Robert, scanning the crowd, "And every person here is married, whether or not his wife saw fit to join him."
"There are a good deal of men here," remarked Cora, taking a closer look at the crowd. "And to hear your mother talk, you would think that men were hard to come by in the countryside!"
"I doubt they'd miss one of the Calloway evenings," said Robert. "Come along, then, it's time to properly introduce you to some of my school mates."
Robert introduced his friends to Cora in a rather informal manner, by their first names and nicknames, and Cora was relieved to not have to remember more titles. Although a title was what she had sought as she crossed the ocean to find a husband, it was also one of the intricate ways of her new life that constantly reminded both her and those around her that she was not "their type of people."
"Everybody! Might I have your attention?" asked Lady Laurel, raising one hand. "We have a bit of a hunt planned, but perhaps not the type you're used to. There are clues all over the grounds, and each clue will lead you to the next. I'll give you each a handkerchief of a certain color, and at each clue, you'll collect your handkerchief. As for the end of the hunt, well, I'm sure you will all know when you have reached it."
"This is just like Laurel," Robert murmured in Cora's ear. "I was wondering what scheme she would have worked up."
"Really?" asked Cora. She saw the others whispering to themselves as well, and a few of the ladies looked a little bit less than amused.
"Yes, she likes to devise elaborate games before dinner. When I did not see the dinner laid out, I thought she must have something in mind. You see, Laurel's a bit of a master of logic, and devising games such as these keeps her busy."
Laurel came over to them then and handed them a periwinkle handkerchief and a clue card.
"I suppose you shall be with Cora then, this time," she said to Robert. Her teasing tone was not quite light enough to fully disguise the bitterness underneath it.
"Yes, I'm afraid he'll have to be," said Cora, forcing a greater amount of teasing and apology into her own voice to drown out the proprietary feeling threatening to choke her whenever Laurel came near. "I'm rather hopeless at games like these; I'm sure I'd be awful on my own, and you would all have to wait for me at the end."
"Well, Robert's fantastic with these sort of things," replied Laurel, smiling at Robert. "He and I never lost."
"It did help that you'd devised the games, of course," admitted Robert. He seemed perfectly oblivious to the silent struggle between Cora and Laurel, and Cora wondered if he realized that Laurel was a sore loser, and if he was purposefully taking Cora's side, or if he was completely oblivious to the situation at hand. While Cora hoped that he understood the subtext of the conversation, she also had some little knowledge of her husband, and what she did know pointed to the latter. Robert was startlingly caught up in his own way of viewing the world; he often failed to notice the nuances of the feminine world around him.
"Right, then," said Laurel, clapping her hands to gain everyone's attention. "Go to it!"
Everyone took off in separate directions, and Robert glanced at the card in his hand, then immediately grasped Cora's arm and took off at a run. Cora struggled to follow in her long skirts, and Robert slowed to accommodate her.
"These are quite competitive," said Robert apologetically as they approached a topiary that had lost its shape. "And I'm afraid that not knowing the grounds will put you at a disadvantage."
"How fortunate, then, that you have been here your whole life!" replied Cora.
Robert smiled, not detecting the note of bitterness in his wife's voice, and when she found a piece of paper in the topiary and handed it to him, he kissed her cheek.
"It's not important that we win, though, I suppose," he mused. "It's not as if these games are a sport. They're just a bit of fun."
"But we'd still like to give Lady Laurel competition, wouldn't we?" asked Cora.
"Right then, we're off to the ruins!" Robert took Cora's arm again, and they started off, Cora just as determined as Robert to prove to Lady Laurel that they could team up and win without her help.
And so he pulled her around the grounds, through the gardens and park and even around the stables, before they wound up in a thicket in the woods.
"Do you really think a clue is here?" asked Cora, searching the bushes for a scrap of paper. She took the previous clue from Robert's hand and read it, but it made no sense to her.
"It's a private reference," Robert explained. "Laurel and I, well, we used to hide here to escape her governess."
"And what did you do?" asked Cora as her heart sped up sickeningly. She didn't want to imagine Robert and Laurel kissing in this very thicket, wrapped around each other, exploring each other in ways that Robert had not even tried with her. Why else would they have hidden in the woods?
"Oh, nothing much," replied Robert as he searched for the clue. "We read some St. Augustine, interesting, but not the sort of thing our parents preferred. And once, Laurel came up with a volume of poetry that was highly risqué. I'm surprised her father left it in the library, but the Calloways always did have a dash of eccentricity."
"That's not what I expected at all," murmured Cora. She was a bit ashamed for having let her jealousy rise when it had no reason to.
"No?" asked Robert. His voice was a lot softer than a moment before, and Cora let her eyes meet his. The way that he was looking at her made her heart beat double time.
"No," she whispered.
"Cora," said Robert as his arm snuck around her waist, "There was never anything between Laurel and myself. Perhaps there could have been but I, well. She was my childhood friend, after all. I'm afraid that I did not notice that she was a girl until my holidays from Eton, and by then, the match had been deemed unsuitable by my father, so I did not pursue her."
Robert's other hand found its way to her cheek, and Cora couldn't seem to pull her gaze away from Robert's. The thicket was dark, it was true, but she could see enough of the heat in his eyes to know what was coming. Still, when his lips met hers, it stole her breath away. In the same moment, he pulled her to his body until they were pressed against each other entirely, with not a breath's space between them.
"Besides, I could never notice her when you are around," continued Robert. "You are so beautiful that I…that is…"
Once again, Robert could not continue his thought, and Cora stood on tiptoe instead, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing their lips together. His tongue prodded her mouth, and she opened to him, letting his tongue fill her mouth and his arms press their bodies together.
When they emerged from the thicket and made their way to the dinner, which was being held in a clearing in the woods, on tables carried from the house, everyone simply raised their eyebrows. Cora heard a few comments made to Robert as he sat down, but as his school chums were the ones making the comments, Robert did not seem too upset.
"What a misfortune, your not being able to finish," said Laurel from across the table. Cora looked up at her and blinked, trying to suppress a smile."
"I don't know that I'd call it a misfortune, at all," she replied mysteriously, before returning to her dinner.
She wouldn't call it a misfortune at all, because she had a feeling that the ride home would be even more enjoyable than the thicket. And besides, with her husband's explanation of his lack of feelings for Laurel, she felt lighter than air.
Robert caught Cora's hand beneath the table and smiled her, and Cora smiled back.
She felt as if she had won the game, after all.
