AN: Hello all! I wasn't planning on posting after season 6 began in the UK (which of course was just a few hours ago), but I wanted to squeeze one more chapter in, and I didn't finish this until this evening. So here we are, and I'm going to count on everyone NOT to leave any spoilers in my reviews!

I am an American who prefers to watch the show for the first time when it airs here in January and February. As a result, I'm taking a hiatus from this website for fear of coming across spoilers. I am going to miss reading fics and posting my own writing terribly, but I'll be back at the end of the winter (hopefully with a sequel to The Broken Places). Until then, please don't write anything in a review for any of my stories like, "This is so similar to what happened in last night's episode!"

After an eternal day of travel, Robert and Cora—the American girl he had married just the day before—had arrived in Paris. They had been married from Grantham House in London, rather than his family estate in Yorkshire, the countryside having been judged far too dreary for a February wedding, and thus the journey had been a shorter one than it would have been if they'd begun from farther north. Yet it had still been an early morning, and an emotional goodbye to Cora's parents, and then a long train ride to the coast and a never-ending trip across the Channel (during which he had suspected Cora had been slightly seasick, although she did not complain), and then one last train from Cherbourg to Paris, and finally a carriage to their hotel.

It had all been exhausting, and it had been made far worse by Robert's nervous awkwardness with his new bride. They had spent so little time alone before, he'd realized as their train pulled out of King's Cross that morning, and now the hours and days and weeks in France and Italy stretched on ahead of them. He liked Cora—she was sweet and kind, and she had been so friendly and bubbly in the beginning—but he was increasingly unsure of what to say to her. And she had grown more withdrawn as the wedding had approached, reaching a new level of silence today. They were now eating a silent dinner in the dining room of their hotel suite.

"Are you tired?" Robert asked, searching for something to say.

He immediately regretted the question when her head jerked up, her eyes suddenly fearful. "A–a bit," she said hesitantly. "That is…I don't mean—I'm not too tired, if you wanted…" She trailed off, chewing her lip.

Robert winced at the memory of last night and how very badly it had gone. While he knew her first time would have been uncomfortable regardless, he blamed himself for just how painful it seemed to have been. In his own excitement, he had pushed in far too quickly, and likely far too hard, and Cora had cried out in pain. He'd pulled back as fast as he could, frightened at the way she'd screwed up her face and gone rigid underneath him. He may not have loved her, but he did care for her, and he certainly hadn't wanted to hurt her.

"Are you…Cora, are you all right?" he'd asked.

And then the worst of it: she'd apologized. "I'm sorry," she'd said weakly as she lay bleeding beneath him, blinking back tears. "I didn't mean to do that."

Robert pulled himself back to the present. "We don't have to, not tonight," he said. "Not if you're tired." And sore, he added silently, feeling his face redden as he recalled the stiff way she'd walked that morning.

She shook her head. "You shouldn't think like that. I—I mean to be a good wife."

Yes, but he did not think that should entail suffering. "Not tonight," he repeated. "I want you to…recover." He lowered his voice, instinctively afraid of listening servants, although the hotel footman had served their meal and left them alone. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I'm not sure that's avoidable, the first time," she said softly.

Perhaps not, but it didn't need to be as bad as it had been. "No," he said, suddenly too embarrassed to keep meeting his wife's eyes. "I meant to be…gentler. I will be, next time. Tomorrow. I don't want…I don't want you to be afraid of me." For that was the worst of it, he thought. Not only that he'd hurt this lovely creature, but that she feared him, that she would continue to pull away, that she would dread their coupling.

Finally, a small smile. "I'm not afraid of you, Robert." Her left hand was laying on the table, and she slid it forward ever-so-slightly. He took it as a signal, and, hesitantly, he reached forward and took her hand in his. She clasped it eagerly and smiled again.

They were silent for a moment, but it somehow was not as awkward as it had been. "Thank you," she said eventually. "You're very considerate, and you're very kind."

He pressed her hand—not quite a squeeze—and then let go to finish his meal, far more happily than he had begun it.

They would, of course, be sleeping separately tonight, their suite having come with the traditional two bedrooms, and he found himself fumbling slightly as he bid her good night at the door to hers. She was so close…so beautiful…so soft, as he ran his hands over her arms…

"Cora…can I…could I at least…can I kiss you?" he asked, suddenly afraid to frighten her again.

But she giggled in response and stepped closer still. "Of course you can."

AN: Just a reminder...no mentions of season 6 in any reviews! Thanks, and I'll see you in February!