A/N: I cannot believe this ff is already at 10 Chapters! My goodness, the original intention was for it to be precisely this long. Well obviously that isn't going to happen because there's a good bit more key events I want to uncover for them. Anyway, I want to thank everyone for all the reviews/follows/favorites/and for even caring about an ordinary story such as this one. I truly appreciate your feedback, so if you have a spare moment to leave a few words it means the world to me. As always enjoy the Cobert adorableness!
"Has Mamma told you her news?" She looks up from the needlepoint. The floral design with hummingbirds flowing across her growing belly, her needle poised in midair before diving back underneath the cloth that will soon turn into a decorative hanging for the nursery.
Robert sits on his side of the bed, kicking off his slippers before informing his wife. "The Dower House is being inspected as we speak."
She lowers her woman's work. Her head leans back onto the abundance of supportive pillows stacked there while she regards his back, "I told her that she didn't have to leave Downton. That I was certain you would let her stay for as long as she liked."
"Did you?" A tinge of surprise echoes in his voice as he turns his face in her direction. He slips underneath the top blanket, and grabs the book she keeps for him on the left bedside table. "And here I thought you'd be loading her trunks into the car already," He chides playfully whilst flipping to his marked place in the text.
She deadpans, "In my condition? I'm barely allowed downstairs, let alone on the drive."
Robert snickers at the sarcastic remark until he recognizes her true displeasure at the thought. He clasps her hand firmly catching her now sulllen gaze. She brightens at the physical contact, feeling more in need of it now than ever. Her condition forces him to treat her like she's a fragile being, and contributes to her source of irritation.
"It's not meant to be a punishment, you know." He reminds her softly.
She resists the urge to roll her eyes at this statement. Of course her limited mobility wasn't meant to be a punishment, but it certainly felt like one. To be locked up in her dingy bedchambers while the sun shone brightly across the grounds, and everything bloomed with the beauty that signaled an English spring. Watching the bright flower buds open from a distance surely wasn't the same as being alongside them in the gardens. And to smell the sweet air of fresh grass without the comforting sensation of a breeze ruffling her skirts was practically torturous for Cora. She lived for this time of year when everything seemed to awaken from a deep slumber and come alive. Even the staff's moods were more cheerful these days. It appeared everyone was taking full advantage of this glorious shift in weather, everyone except her.
Despite being the Lady of the House, it still took several weeks to convince both her husband and mother-in-law to let her join them downstairs for afternoon tea and evening dinner. Even then they were against a woman in her condition doing anything that might be construed as strenuous. She laughed without restraint when Mamma mentioned how walking downstairs could be a taxing endeavor. She paid with a severe scolding of how selfish she was being. What price would you pay in order to satisfy your boredom for a few months? The well being of your unborn child? Naturally Robert came to her defense, although uneasily underneath his mother's scrutinizing glare. It was then decided Cora would join them a few nights every week for tea and dinner, her health permitting.
"I know," Her chest rises and falls steadily while she looks to her needlework. She gives his hand a quick squeeze before returning it back to the needle.
She feels his sky blue gaze still on her profile, giving her pause to glance back at him. "Something on your mind?" She asks him fondly.
"No, it's nothing." He turns to his book, trying to focus on the turning point that Sir Conan Doyle was about to reveal in the course of his story.
"You're a terrible liar," Cora returns demurely, threading the needle through a few times.
He exhales with annoyance at her persistence, the book falling flat on his thighs. "How is it after only three years of marriage you can tell that?" He looks sideways at her.
Clearly satisfied by his curiosity she retorts impishly, "It's one of the few gifts my mother gave me before I married you." Her mouth rounds lazily as she emphasizes the final word.
"And what does that mean?" He questions, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
"Oh it's nothing," She mocks with an air of innocence.
Robert picks up on her teasing, and gives into the rather childlike charade she's insistence on playing. He snaps his book shut with a suddenness that causes her to jump. "If you must know," He speaks up from their lull in conversation, "we are in dire need of new staff."
"Whatever do you mean?" Cora implores with a worried look spreading across her face. "I thought we were getting on fine with the present employees?" She soon abandons her work, giving full attention to this sudden revelation.
"We are," He provides a soothing hand atop her knee. "It's just some of them are planning to leave with Mamma."
She gapes as if this idea hadn't occurred to her, "Who is?"
"Mr. Warren as well as the Gibbs, and as to be expected…Simmons."
Cora shakes her head in disbelief, but Robert is quick to alleviate her surprise. "Oh darling it's not unusual for this sort of thing to happen."
But the quality of calmness in his tone sets her a bit on edge. She relays the scenario through gritted teeth as if it's the only sure way for her composure to be held upright. "Are you telling me we are to lose a butler, a footman, and a cook right before we are about to add another member to this household?"
His hesitation only confirms her worst fears. "Robert," She laments with a melodramatic groan that is certainly not of her usual style of dealing with these things. Her head hangs back, an almost pained look of dread encompassing her. "How will we entertain people? No doubt there will be a sudden outpouring of well wishers once the baby comes." She continues on her rant, completely ignoring his halfhearted attempts to calm her down.
"This is precisely why I didn't want to tell you," He bemoans, feeling a particular frustration both with her overly dramatic reaction and his weak display of assurance.
Her eyes narrow at his insinuation, hands moving to her round stomach before letting out a terse breath at the sudden pulsing in her lower body. "And not have me put out an advertisement? Oh yes, that would greatly improve our situation!" Her hands flare up in disbelief at the idiotic notion of him keeping this piece of information from her.
"Mamma already handled it," Robert cuts in, swiftly tightening his grip on her leg. He ignores the thoughtless insult directed at him. It's not meant to cause any real injury, as he's come to understand her sudden boughs of emotion stem from the anxiety of the life altering event scheduled to soon take place. And although they both feel it, they don't often disclose how impending parenthood not only excites but also terrifies them. It manifests through these meaningless spats that do nothing except relieve the tension, since the only way they've ever known how to is out of the question.
"Well thank God for Mamma," Cora huffs in response to this.
He speaks with a certain kindness he hopes will put an end to this feud. "She only thought she was helping."
But his wife continues to grumble under her breath, unsuccessfully crossing her arms at the presence of her baby bump. "I suppose it's the least she can do since she's taking half our staff with her."
"Darling," His knuckles move to caress her soft ivory cheek, "I don't wish to argue with you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. But like I told you already, I didn't want you to worry."
This gesture of much wanted closeness is her undoing. The cracks in her steely exterior begin to shine through and she relents, "I suppose I overreacted a little."
Robert's palm curls more firmly across her skin and he leans in to steal a sweet kiss from her pouted lips. "No harm done," His thumb traces one final line down the side of her face before moving back to the other side of the bed.
She reclines on top the meager support stacked high in an effort to relieve the pain that plagues her there more often than usual from the necessary shift in her body weight. "We should begin thinking about names," She decides as a more welcomed fluttering stirs inside her abdomen.
"Already?" He pipes up with a curiously raised brow. "Don't you think it's too soon?"
"Oh I don't know," Cora shrugs, "It might be nice to have one less thing to worry about." She feels his intrigued stare fixating on her while she runs one hand along the top of her middle, and a familiar blush permeate her pale cheeks.
Agreeing with her suggestion, Robert scoots closer allowing her head to rest against his shoulder. Interlacing their fingers together he probes, "Any ones immediately come to mind?"
"Well I suppose if it's a boy you'd like to name him after you," She nudges him in the ribs.
"I don't know that I would," Robert admits, much to her surprise. "I was thinking…I quite like Edward."
She muses, "I suppose you would quite like it, especially when it's served you well so far as a middle name."
"Well? Do you have one better?" He counters defensively.
"Edward is a perfectly good name." She imagines with a wistful edge to her voice, "We could call him Eddie until he fully grows into it."
His head rubs against the top of her hair while he nods. "I suppose we need another one. Just in case."
You mean if it's a girl, she can't help but think. But the kicking in her womb stifles the indignation she feels about the value of a daughter versus a son. Instead she shifts positions on the bed with Robert's help until she's lying on her left side. Peering up at him she recommends, "What about…Elizabeth?"
Robert lies down opposite her, their hands still intertwining between them. He yawns, his interest in this subject obviously dwindling. "I don't think we should worry about it too much, darling. There's still plenty of time."
"Or Josephine," She continues, completely ignoring his slowly drooping eyelids matching the sleepily candles that have nearly burned down to their ends.
"Josephine?" One eye opens and he acknowledges the unusual choice, "Where did you come up with that one."
"I think I read it in a book once," Cora explains plainly.
He comments, "It's more unique than Elizabeth."
"So you like it?"
His head cocks to the side, mouth twitching uncertainly. "It's more modern than I'm used to. What about something more traditional?"
"Like what?"
"Oh I don't know…" His eyes fly around the room as if the answer will be painted in the air in front of him. After a few seconds he boldly suggests without reservation, "Mary."
"Mary," She repeats softly and purposefully. Her mouth purses as the name passes through her lips, filling the air with a mellow tone. Then her eyes light up and the beating of her heart quickens as she mentally strings three names together in a manner she feels might solve the complex puzzle they've somehow created. "Mary Josephine Crawley."
His brow knits together as he considers the latest proposition. But no matter how desperately reserved he's trying to be in that instance, she can tell Robert's forming attachment to the name. It rolls together fluidly as if somehow bridging tradition with a distinct modernization. A pair of azure orbs permeates straight through her. His eager hand presses at the bulge in her stomach, and they both feel that familiar ripple of life from within.