Robert did his best to keep his mind on ironing out details of the latest estate plans while he sat across from Murray in his office. But it was difficult indeed.
Avery received strict instructions not to let in anyone that morning while Robert was away. When he'd left the house, Robert took the motor rather than walking. He'd kept a sharp eye out for the reprehensible rascal, but saw no sign of him. He wasn't sure whether this was a good thing or not. He wasn't thoughtless enough to think Stanton had given up – especially not after that morning's note.
He just wondered when the other shoe was going to drop. He knew one thing for certain: when it did, he'd be ready.
He left Murray more or less satisfied about their meeting and told the chauffeur to get back to the house as quickly as possible. He found Cora in the drawing room with her embroidery. She looked up at him with a bright smile. This went a long way to calm him, and he crossed the room to sit beside her with an answering smile.
"How did your meeting go, darling?"
"Well enough," he answered, kissing her cheek.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, setting her embroidery aside. "This came a little earlier." She retrieved an envelope from her pocket and held it out to him.
Robert's heart jumped a bit until he recognized Margaret's elegant, loopy handwriting upon the front. He took it and read the note. "How wonderful. I trust you already let the cook know we'd be having guests for dinner?"
"Yes, darling, I did. Speaking of that, there's Avery now to tell us luncheon is ready." She stood and pulled him up with her so they could go to the dining room.
Wondering at her cheerful calm, Robert followed her and sat to have their meal together. He decided not to say anything.
Cora, for her part, had decided to trust in her husband implicitly. If he said he wouldn't let Stanton touch her again, she knew he meant it. It's not that she wasn't nervous – particularly about their afternoon outing. She simply knew that if something were to happen, he would keep her safe.
After luncheon, they set out together, opting to have the motor take them close to the block of shops they meant to visit and then walk from there. Robert kept glancing about – as surreptitiously as possible, not wanting to make Cora anxious – as they went into a shop to buy various things for Sybbie. He did his best to enter into the spirit of it, as he loved his granddaughter to pieces. The openness of the shop aided him in this, and he pointed out a doll that looked a little like their precious Sybil.
Cora smiled at him and picked up the doll, tears sparkling in her eyes. "It's perfect, Robert. She'll love it."
Adding a few other things to the parcel the clerk was wrapping up for them, Cora stood by while Robert paid the bill. Requesting that someone take the parcel to their motor car to leave in the care of their chauffeur, he gave his wife his arm and guided her out of the shop, letting her steer them to the next one she wanted to visit.
As they came out of this shop a bit later and began walking toward the dress shop, Robert felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He gazed around them, the modicum of calm he'd managed to gain in the past hour rapidly fading. He could feel eyes upon them, but he could not locate the person to whom the eyes must belong.
At the tightening of Robert's arm around hers, Cora looked at him. "Robert? Is everything alright?"
"Cora," he said in a low voice, casting glances all around them, "just keep walking, darling."
The note of urgency in his voice made her breath catch. But she kept going, clutching his arm, her eyes set on their destination. They were nearly to the dress shop when Robert unexpectedly ceased walking, standing stock still and quickly snaking his arm around his wife's waist.
Disconcerted by the sudden stop, Cora turned her head. "Rob–" But the next syllable stuck, as astounded as she was at the sight that met her.
"I will request that the two of you accompany me into the adjacent alley, please," Stanton hissed. The odor of whiskey poured off the man and saturated the air around them. He stood on the other side of Robert, and Cora had seen the flash of sunlight on a blade against her husband's throat.
Not having much choice otherwise, Robert and Cora went with Stanton into the dim, dank alley between the dress shop and a milliner. Once they had gotten far enough down to be unlikely to attract the interest of any passersby of the two shops, Stanton pressed the knife another half a centimeter against Robert's skin, drawing a drop of blood. "Here," he said.
Robert didn't flinch, but stood still, breathing as evenly as he could while Cora trembled next to him, small sounds escaping involuntarily from her throat. His mind raced, calculating their options and hoping that, when the time came, he and Cora would act just as seamlessly together as they had the day before.
"Now, my dear, if you'll step away from his lordship…." Stanton fastened his eyes upon her as, at the press of Robert's hand against her waist indicating she should do as their captor said, she reluctantly moved away from the circle of his arm and walked a short distance to face them both. "There's a good girl," he crooned, smiling wickedly, putting his other hand on Robert's shoulder.
Cora set her jaw stubbornly against his condescending tone. She could see how bloodshot the man's eyes were, as well as the shadow of stubble along his cheeks and chin. His drunkenness could be an asset to them – or it could be a liability, as unstable as they already knew him to be.
"Now, Lord Grantham," Stanton jeered, turning to address Robert while he twisted the blade a bit more into his flesh. "How do you plan to 'break me in half'?"
Robert said nothing, but kept his eyes locked on his wife's. She wasn't very far from the two of them, but she carefully crept closer, counting on Stanton to underestimate her – or at least continue to be distracted with taunting her husband.
Catching the motion out of the corner of his eye, Stanton whipped his head around to her. "Oh, I wouldn't come any nearer, my dear. You wouldn't want to be the one to force my hand, would you?" At this, he pushed the knife a few millimeters more, a slow trickle now escaping the small wound.
Cora froze but did not retreat. Once he was satisfied that she wouldn't move again, Stanton squeezed Robert's shoulder and snarled into his ear, "I told you: she will be mine."
Robert refused to reply, but continued to gaze at his wife. He realized that a bluff would be their best chance, but he wasn't sure how to communicate it to her without moving. After a handful of seconds that felt like an age, Cora nodded almost imperceptibly at him.
It wasn't until she took one step closer and reached out to touch Stanton's arm gently that Robert was certain that either he'd conveyed what he needed to her, or that she'd simply reached the same conclusion he had. It didn't matter. Feeling the steel prick his skin even more at Stanton's involuntary flinch when she touched him, Robert knew it was worth a little blood if they could pull this off.
Cora said softly, "Le, please. Let him go. I'll go with you. Just, please, don't hurt him."
The words tasted acidic in her mouth, and she had to stop herself from spitting his nickname. It took every ounce of control she had to look at him with the gentleness she needed in order for their ruse to work. But she knew she had to.
Within seconds, she also knew they had him right where they wanted him.
Stanton stared at Cora in his drunken haze, the knife still at Robert's throat, but the grip on his shoulder already loosening. "You – you will?" He seemed dazed at this and looked down at where her hand touched his arm.
"Yes," she managed to affirm.
Hesitating, he moved his eyes from her hand to the knife, then to her face. Her smile was warm and her eyes tender. Fortunately, he was too inebriated to notice she trembled with the effort.
As soon as Robert felt the knife leave his throat, he elbowed Stanton in the stomach. Then, sparing a glance to make sure Cora had skipped back away from them, Robert rounded on the crumpling man, bringing his fist up to meet his nose with a powerful blow. Blood spurted from the appendage, but still Stanton gripped the knife.
Grabbing his left hand, Robert twisted Stanton's arm behind his back, as he had at the fountain, but this time he slammed him up against the brick wall of the dress shop. Pressing Stanton into the brick, he seized his knife hand and smashed it against the wall as well, attempting to get him to drop the blade.
Cora stood back with her hands covering her mouth, watching this display in fascination, awe, and apprehension. She knew she should run for the police, but she couldn't seem to tear herself away. At least not while Stanton was still conscious and held a knife.
Stanton laughed maniacally. "Ah, the great Earl of Grantham. How aristocratic is this?" His voice sounded pinched because of his – most likely broken – nose. "Is this any way for a lord to act?"
"I told you that you had no idea with whom you were dealing," he growled. "I am not –" he bashed Stanton's hand against the wall again – "the Earl –" slam – "of Grantham –" smash – "but Robert Crawley –" bash – "husband –" slam – "of Cora Crawley!" He smashed Stanton's hand once more, but this time, growing impatient, he also ground his hand forcefully against the brick.
Finally uttering his first real cry of pain, Stanton released the knife. Kicking it away from them, Robert held his hand up by the wrist now, having heard the snapping of bone.
Cora, recognizing that her husband had effectively incapacitated their assailant, sprinted out of the alley to find a policeman.
Robert, hearing her go, kept Stanton pinned to the wall. The man breathed heavily from pain. Robert couldn't be bothered to care. He leaned down and hissed in Stanton's ear, "I told you the first time we met that I would break your hands. You'd better thank God I haven't decided to break the other one." Jerking Stanton back a bit, he rammed him into the brick one final time for emphasis as he heard voices and hurried footsteps coming from the end of the alley.
Accompanied by two policemen, Cora pointed to the knife that had skittered and come to rest a few yards from the combatants. She had to take multiple deep breaths as she explained to the policemen what happened. Then she indicated to one of them where the knife had penetrated her husband's throat. While the other picked up the blade with a handkerchief, the first leaned close to Stanton, who now had his eyes closed in his agony, breathing open-mouthed because of the blood still dripping from his nose. The policeman almost staggered back at the stench of the alcohol on his breath.
"Well, your lordship, I commend you for taking care of the situation for yourself and her ladyship," he said, addressing Robert. "Drunk and disorderly at the very least, I'd say, but I think charges of assault are in order as well. Taylor, let's get this ruffian back to the station." He turned from the other policeman and back to Robert. "We can take it from here, my lord."
Robert stepped back from Stanton as the policemen took him by the arms and began dragging him toward the street. Stanton twisted his head to look at them, throwing out, "How could you, my dear?" in a hurt voice, as if she'd betrayed him most deeply.
As the trio continued down the alley, Cora pressed herself close to Robert and pulled her handkerchief out of her pocket, applying it to the wound gently as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. For the first time, he winced.
"I'm sorry, darling," she whispered.
Turning tender eyes to her, he replied, "It's alright, my love." He wanted to touch her cheek, but he felt polluted by having to handle Stanton. He began to guide her out of the alley. "Did I carry out your promise as you'd hoped?"
"Oh, Robert." She halted their steps to put her arms around him and embrace him tightly, unable to stop her tears from falling. "I was so afraid. Afraid that he'd hurt you – or worse."
Passing soothing hands over her back, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. "But he didn't," he said softly. "And, even afraid, you performed admirably, Cora. I'm not sure how else we could have managed to overpower him."
Cora raised her head to look at him. "Somehow I knew what you needed me to do. I don't even know how exactly. I just… did."
"I suppose that's what happens when two people have spent as long as we have together." He smiled at her. "Now, I would really like to go somewhere to at least wash my hands. That bastard's scent clings to me in a particularly revolting manner." His face contorted into an expression of disgust.
"Yes, my love. Let's leave this horrible place." She walked along with him again, out into the afternoon sunlight and on to their motor.
Once they got into the house, Robert sent Cora upstairs. They'd agreed to have Henry and Margaret to dinner still, but Robert wanted to telephone and see if they could push the time back by an hour, thinking they could use the time to recover from their early afternoon adventure. First, however, he slipped into the downstairs washroom and scrubbed his hands vigorously, even reaching up under his shirt cuffs with the soap, not minding their getting a bit wet. He washed his face as well and used a dampened cloth to wipe the front of his suit as best he could, until the stink of whiskey and blood – that he now noticed as he examined his reflection – were so faint as to be nearly nothing. Exiting the washroom, he headed for the library telephone.
Cora sat upstairs on the bed, waiting for Robert to join her, going over and over the events of the past hour (had it been only an hour? It had felt like far longer) in her head. Remembering how her husband had taken charge once Stanton had withdrawn the knife blade…. Cora put a hand over her rapidly beating heart and shivered. But it wasn't with trepidation this time.
Robert came into the bedroom, saying, "Cora, Henry said that – OOMPH!" He staggered a bit, Cora having practically launched herself at him once the door was closed, jumping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist, winding him. In the next second she had pulled his head toward her and captured his lips in a passionate kiss.
Instinctively, Robert slid his arms around her and pressed her closer, returning the kiss eagerly. He'd forgotten how long it had actually been since they'd been together, and the heat she was creating with her enthusiasm produced a pronounced reaction in him.
Pulling back from her, Robert panted, trying to catch his breath. "Cora, slow down," he chuckled – partly from amusement at her zeal, but mostly from relief that they were safe and sound in their own bedroom, their arms firmly wrapped around one another.
"I can't." She, too, was panting. Her blue eyes had grown several shades darker with desire. "Yes, darling, I was frightened, but at the same time it was thrilling, watching you teach him a lesson – watching you protect me from him. I keep seeing in my mind the ripple of muscle across your shoulders, even through your jacket…."
She crushed her mouth to his again, reaching down to unbutton said jacket and shrug it off his shoulders one side at a time. It fell to the floor. Remembering another time that he'd punched a man for propositioning his wife, and how she'd reacted similarly – calling him "masterful" – he slipped his hands down and fondled her buttocks, pressing her against himself with even more intention. Her groan of delight caused him to feel that his trousers were far too constraining.
"Cora," he breathed against her lips. "I –" Her nod interrupted him, and, as if she simply knew what he was thinking again, she scrambled down and made quick work of ridding herself of her skirt and undergarments. Kicking these behind her, she helped him unbutton his trousers and detach them from his braces. Once they were both naked from the waist down, she hopped back up into his arms. He leaned against an empty stretch of wall, putting his weight on his shoulder blades in order not to hurt Cora's legs wrapped tightly around his lower back.
"Robert," she panted, wriggling against him, her hands on his face and her eyes on his.
Kissing her again, Robert lifted Cora's hips and settled her down over him, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh of pure pleasure into her mouth. Cupping his hands around her bottom once more, he helped her move against him. Then, as she began to gasp and emit a series of high-pitched squeaks, he more actively thrust his hips upward, endeavoring to prolong her enjoyment. He bent his head down to nuzzle into her neck as she thread her fingers through his hair. She let out a long, deep sigh just before Robert let out his own groan of release, sliding his arms up to pull her tighter to him, running his hands under her blouse and pressing soft kisses to her collar bone.
Cora relaxed completely within the wave of euphoria that enveloped her. She continued to play with Robert's hair, taking deep breaths and resting her chin lightly on the top of his head. After they'd both calmed, their heartbeats and breathing returning to normal, Cora caressed Robert's face, lifting his head to look at him.
"That was brilliant," she whispered with a soft smile.
Returning the smile, he touched his lips lightly to hers. "I quite agree, my darling." He kissed her jaw, just in front of her ear, then said gently, "However, I need to move soon. My back is starting to hurt a little." He nibbled her earlobe lovingly, feeling a pang to remember that it was the ear he'd bitten a few days before.
Slowly, Cora straightened her legs to stand, leaning against him and chuckling to realize that they were a bit wobbly. Robert pressed his back fully against the wall, trying to work out the little aches in it. Clasping his hands in hers, Cora tilted her head up for another kiss, then said, "I'll massage your back later, my love. It's the least I can do."
As she turned away from him, releasing his hands with a waggle of her eyebrows, he swatted her playfully on the rear, winking at her. Cora gasped in surprise, at the same time that she heaved a deep sigh of relief inside. Perhaps he had started to trust himself again, even if only a little. Otherwise, he wouldn't have smacked her in even a teasing way.
Cora went over to where they'd thrown their clothes, bending down to pick them up. Observing her, Robert grew warm. His eyes glazed over and he fumbled with his tie, his cufflinks, his shirt buttons.
Depositing the clothes on a chair, Cora turned and saw the gleam in her husband's eye, the way he tore at the rest of his clothes to remove them quickly, and, her eye straying farther down, how he so obviously wanted her again. Her breath caught, and she absentmindedly slipped a hand beneath her collar to cover her already racing heart.
"I see someone is ready to make up for the past few weeks, isn't he?" she murmured, her cheeks flushed.
He simply nodded, keeping his eyes on her as he slid off his waistcoat, braces, and shirt.
"Darling?" Her voice was breathy as she began unbuttoning her blouse. "Might you open the window? It's stifling in here all of a sudden."
Watching him walk over to the window to open it for her, Cora bit her lip, grinning. Dropping the blouse to the floor, she came up behind him and rested her head against his back. She snaked one arm around his chest, grazing her fingers over a nipple. The other arm fell across his hip, her hand wrapping around him. She let out a noise of bliss to feel him harden more at her touch. Robert clutched at the window sill, closing his eyes and making guttural sounds in his throat.
"Keep doing that, Cora," he said huskily, "And I won't be able to make up for lost time again until later tonight." He took her hands from him gently and kissed the back of each of them before turning to face her.
She looked up at him with a broad grin, weaving his fingers through hers.
His expression transformed into one of great tenderness as he bent his head to press his forehead to hers, gazing into her eyes. "God, how I've missed you, sweetheart. I was too wrapped up in my own ridiculousness to realize just how much."
"You don't have to miss me anymore, Robert. I'm right here, and I want you so badly."
Surprising her, he let go of her hands and scooped her up in his arms. Kissing her lovingly, he lay her on the bed, running his fingertips along the length of her body, caressing her skin, making her hum with delight and heightened desire. Reaching the juncture of her legs, he slipped his fingers inside her and stroked her gently, then with more pressure, his thumb teasing her now as well. His eyes held hers as he watched her, listened to her. As she began to buck against his hand, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Yes, my love. I want so much to give you pleasure."
Cora clutched at his arm. "Robert… please… I need you…."
Hearing the desperation in her voice, Robert removed his hand from her so he could settle between her thighs. She was already nodding vigorously at him, panting and squirming beneath him. When he entered her, the feeling of her was so incredible he almost spiraled out of control in the first few seconds. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, willing himself to remember how much he wanted to make love to the sweet creature whose arms had reached up to wrap around him and press him to herself.
Getting his bearings, he kissed her again before moving, slowly and deliberately at first and then with greater fervor. Their breath mingled and their hearts beat against each other. He brushed her hair back from her face as he gazed into her eyes, and her heart leapt when she saw the depth of feeling in them. It was as if, having found their way back to one another once more, he sought to add the last piece to the puzzle, to truly bring them together – mind, soul, and body.
Finally, she had to close her eyes, crying out and arching her back as she climaxed again. It was all Robert could do not to collapse against her right away, the way she sent waves of pleasure through him. Keeping hold of his last shred of coherent thought, he gathered her up and turned them onto their sides, pulling a sheet lightly up over them.
Finding themselves recovering for a second time in a row, they grinned at one another and held each other close. "Aren't you glad I convinced Henry and Margaret to defer their visit for another hour?" Robert chuckled. Then he ran his fingers lightly over the bruises on Cora's upper arm, wishing he could somehow erase them, but glad that he'd returned the favor – and more – to the miscreant who'd caused them.
Smiling in happy exhaustion, Cora nodded. "Yes. Very glad." She leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to where Stanton's blade had dug into his flesh. Then she nestled more comfortably against him. "I love you so much, Robert. My stalwart protector."
Holding her even more tightly, he replied, "I will always protect you. For you are my heart, Cora. I wouldn't know love if it weren't for you."
Hearing his wife sigh contentedly and her breathing grow deeper, Robert glanced at the clock and decided to let her sleep for a while. He would wake her when it was time to dress. For now, he was happy to hold her next to his heart and feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his.
"You are the morning when it's clear
When it's over you're the start
You're my head,
You're my heart"
