Robert smoothes his fingers over the mahogany arm of the club chair. He'd thought the hues of purple would wear him out but in truth he rather liked them. At this moment they were becoming mighty handy in distracting himself; matching certain shades on the chair to those elsewhere in the room was proving to be a controversial decision for his lone mind. Which was exactly what he wanted, anything to stop him glancing at his watch and checking his pocket for the thousandth time for the ring he definitely had.

Yesterday had passed very quickly and it was slightly disturbing to realise tonight was their last night on board- that they'd be jetting home tomorrow. He probably should have organised his evening alone with Cora for yesterday but she'd seemed so out of sorts that he'd changed his mind.

Shuffling behind him makes him spring from his chair and she stands in the doorway between the two rooms pushing a last piece of paper into her bag. It pikes his curiosity as it looks like a piece straight from a notebook, the binding having left the ends frayed and pulled. Cora didn't have bound notebooks, not ones that were smaller than A5 anyway. But he doesn't press the issue, tonight wasn't the night. It was clearly something she didn't want anyone to find, not even him apparently.

But his eyes move easily enough from her simple black clutch bag, far more taken with the white gown she'd chosen. He hadn't seen it yet that holiday, in fact he couldn't remember having seen it ever before. It was knee length, and had a chiffon underskirt; layers and layers of it, crimped with a glossy trim. But it was the trimming over that, the daisy patterned lace that covered the full chiffon that was so beautiful. Intricate and stunning. At the waist there was a thick band of white, the daisy lace stretching up over the bodice, two panels of opaque white beneath it that stopped above her bust. The central inch and half between her breasts was bare, just lace, and the gap continued to the waistband. The lace stretched high though, almost to her throat where it rounded off either side of her neck creating thick bold straps that sat above her shoulder. Her hair was loose, falling in its natural waves onto her shoulders, a few stray ringlets flitting down over her cheeks.

His shirt and bow tie felt altogether inadequate and suddenly rather warm.

"Right, I'm ready, and there's quite no reason to stare Robert."

"I think there is, you look quite stunning my darling." She dips her gaze and he can't help but smile.

The walk upstairs is silent, their hands wrapped together, the sway of her body beside his all he needs to keep him captivated. He couldn't feel her hip or her leg, nor could he really see them, they were walking hand in hand but he could sense her and that was all he needed.

The restaurant manager awaits them at the entrance, as had been the custom every night onboard and directs them to a table for two.

"You have come without the children, for your last night onboard. How pleasant for you madam." They follow him to a secluded table at the far end of the restaurant. Robert was always mystified how they could remember every face but they could, faces, names even if you'd cruised before they remembered. It made the experience more personal than anyone could dream of.

He takes the time, while Cora is settling herself, to admire the room for the last time. The pillars made entirely of mirrors that stood equidistant apart in the central section of the room. The two walkways that stretched to the two entrances in one direction and sweep into the kitchens in the other. Work stations dotted along them with waiters skipping between each other, large trays piled high on their shoulders. And amongst them he spies...

"Sybil?"

"What?" Cora swirls around, her napkin slipping from her lap. But that's as close as the conversation comes. Sybil speaks to the waiter, hands him a piece of paper, waves to them and dashes off. "What is she up to?"

"Nothing for you to worry about sir. Your menu." The warm smile of their waiter accompanies the handing out of the menu and Robert casts his eyes back to Cora.

"Our daughters are minxes, all these secrets." She just rolls her eyes, leaning over the table towards him.

"And we know who they get that from."

"Yes. Their darling mother. Who shines brighter by the day and becomes more and more difficult to refuse." The deep hue of her cheeks pleases him no end. They really did seem to be finding their footing again and he was glad.

They order and he just watches her. The gentle swish of her curls, the twinkle of her earrings, the flick of her bracelet as she points to the menu. But most captivating of all are her eyes, watching him over the top of the champagne glass.

"I didn't mention earlier how beautiful you look." She rolls her eyes.

"Don't try and flirt with me Robert Crawley. I'm still annoyed about you not having told me Matthew was planning to propose. You could at least have given me a heads up." He'd rather hoped she'd gotten over that. It was true he had finally proposed, yesterday, one day after Robert had thought he'd scared him off. Cora had guessed immediately the connection with the drinks the men had taken together the night before and Matthew's proposal, needless to say he was in the dog house.

"Yet, if I'd told you. You would have promptly reminded me not to ruin your surprises."

"You always have been good at surprises. Look at our honeymoon, months you'd been planning that and I didn't know anything about it until you handed me my plane ticket. And even then that was only half the story." She's leaned towards him across the table, painted nails curling around the stem of her glass.

"You enjoyed it though?"

"I was newly married Robert. Able to spend night after night in the arms of the man I loved, the man I still do love, away from the prying eyes of the world and your mother. Of course I enjoyed it." Her voice is hushed. A soft ripple of vibrations over the table. As slow and subtle as the champagne bubbling.

"And you've enjoyed this?" She'd been so upset the last couple of days, and so downcast in general over the last week of the holiday that he had been wondering if he'd made the right choice.

"Of course." But her answer was to fast, too hurried. More like the bubbling over of beer when it is first poured. And she moves away, sharply falling back into her seat. "It's been delightful to spend so much time with you."

"All hard feelings from before are forgotten then?"

"They were forgotten and forgiven weeks ago Robert. You know that." She glances at her lap where he can see the upper portion of her wrist is flexing- she was twiddling her fingers. "You know what's bothering me this week. The girls and how old I suddenly feel."

Deja vu washes over him and he feels his lips slip apart. His heart stuttering to keep up with the adrenaline that pounds. The hanging of her head, the fidgeting of her bracelet. The way she talks her words into her lap. He can see her clad in white and black sat in his office with the exact same stance, the exact same tilt of her head. Twenty nine years ago that was. Haunted and afraid. But she couldn't be haunted and afraid now, surely?

"You don't deny it. That I'm old now." He'd been so washed away in his thoughts, that he hadn't replied and now she sits assessing him, eyes piercing.

"You're not old Cora."

"And yet you didn't answer."

"I was thinking. You seem so distracted the last couple of days Cora. Are you sure-"

"I would tell you Robert if anything was the matter. Like I said, the girls and old memories. That's all." He's pleased the starter appears, she was lying he was sure. But he wouldn't push her, he'd never pushed her. She is her own person, he'd just agreed to try and negotiate his life alongside her own, he wouldn't dictate. Dictating had been what had let them drift apart. Besides this was to be a pleasant evening.

His prawns are truly delightful ad noticing that Cora's starter has already vanished he nudges their glasses apart and places the plate in the centre of the table, it had been so very long since they'd had shared food. He spoons a fork full into her mouth and she laughs as a prawn decides to wiggle back to the plate over her lip.

The main comes and goes over a long discussion about Mary, what she might want for the wedding, where they might find a dress, the contemplation of asking for Rosamund's assistance and recalling moments from her childhood. Cora certainly relaxes, despite the fact her champagne lays virtually untouched.

"Don't you want that?" He points at the bubbling liquid. It really was an expensive variety and her favourite. It seemed odd that she wasn't touching it. He thinks again about the way she'd eaten so much, so quickly. He pictures her naked on the floor of the shower last week and all the other nights they'd acted newlywed this holiday. The way she'd fallen asleep on the bus back from one of their trips. The crying. And now the crinkling of her nose as she said the champagne made her feel funny.

It all pointed towards what he'd thought the other day.

Pregnant.

He takes a long swig of her champagne contemplating how he might bring the subject up.

"Your dessert." The waiter appears at his elbow and he's perfectly ready for the simple ice cream he'd ordered, excited at the prospect of being able to share it with Cora just as they usually did curled up in front of a film. What is actually placed in front of them is a cake. A rectangular cream cake, beautifully piped with the words 'Happy Anniversary' and a huge '25.'

Cora looks to him with wide smiles and he shakes his head. The waiter leans over them both as the restaurant band gather at their table.

"It is curtesy of your Miss Sybil. She sends her best wishes for the evening." So, this was his youngest daughter's secret. Cora gets up and comes to his side of the table as the waiters burst into song.

It was a tradition on board, anyone choosing to celebrate an occasion was sung to by a trio of the restaurant's waiters who switched trays for guitars and tambourines.

But he barely hears the song. Cora slips into his lap, wrapping her arms firmly around his neck and judging by the 'ah's' that came from surrounding tables they looked quite the picture.

Her stray hair rubs on his temple. Her fingers smoothing at the skin beneath his collar. Her breath tickles his ear and if he closed his eyes he might think he was lying in bed with her. She sings along in his ear, her voice perfectly in tune and he holds her tighter feeling the box with her ring within pressing against his heart as she leans against it. She'd always been so perfectly right. The background sound changes from tuneful to loud and piercing; from song to whistles and claps.

"I love you." She hears him, she definitely hears him because she kisses him. In front of lots of people, with whistles and claps clamouring, she presses her lips to his.

She sits up a little as the band disperse, perching only loosely on his knee.

"We should have known Sybil wouldn't let the holiday pass without some grand gesture." He laughs, kissing her cheek and placing the knife he'd been passed into her hand.

"Together?"

"Yes, together." She nods her agreement so he covers her hand with his own and shuts his eyes. He wishes for the same as he had the last time he'd cut a cake with Cora- on their wedding day. A long and happy life together.

She unfolds the piece of paper for the thousandth time in the last day. She'd crammed it in her clutch because she couldn't bear the thought of Robert finding it.

The bright washroom lights make it hard to read, the white paper hurting her eyes. The black ink swirling around on the paper. But she doesn't need to read it she knows what it says.

I apologise for watching you. I don't want to. Simon has my hands tied- you know what that's like. I made a life in England a few years ago, a wife, two young children. But he found me and asked me to keep tabs on you. He booked me this holiday- knowing you were going. I've stalled with him, offered him little information but he's realised that now. He will come, you know that better than I. He is engaged to be married, I pity the lady, but that won't stop him. He seeks revenge upon you Cora. This is a warning, please take it. And above all be careful.

He'd signed his name at the bottom: Peter Wallace.

It was him, but Cora had known it had been him. She also knew that Simon was behind this. One day he would seek his revenge and my he'd waited long enough. But then Cora supposed that was the point. He'd lulled her into a false sense of security just as he had all those years ago when he'd proposed.

The problem was if he was coming Cora was going to have to face him. Robert would likely find out and there was so much he could never comprehend. There was many things about her relationship with Simon that she herself didn't understand. Waking up alone one morning not remembering the night before. She'd tried to forget that memory unsure of what it had meant, even now. Or maybe years ago she'd realised what he had done and hidden behind the pretence of her having gotten drunk. She had over time believed her own lies. Shrouded herself from the truth.

She takes a deep breath. Folding the paper away and turning to the mirror. Looking at the woman that stares back at her. The mother of three, the wife. The woman Robert had made her. She wasn't the Cora Levinson she had been with Simon, naive and at his disposal. She would fight her ground if that was what this came to. But right now it was her time. Hers and Robert's, he was waiting the other side of the door, likely anxious about her whereabouts.

He'd expressed his want of a walk around the deck and she'd agreed, the cake Sybil had ordered had been simply delicious they'd eaten half of it, but she shouldn't have eaten that much cream, she'd begin showing more of a tummy than was already noticeable from her three girls.

She forces a smile onto her face, pushes away thoughts of Simon and Peter, her age and steps back outside.

Sure enough his fingers fidget with a small box in his hand which he snaps shut at the sight of her. Which was intriguing because Cora could have sworn it was a velvet jewellery box.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." But as he slips his hand back out of the inside pocket of his jacket and grabs her hand Cora remains unconvinced. It seemed it wasn't just her girls that had been hiding things this holiday.

She indulges his chatter as they ascend the few flights of stairs to the promenade deck, where they could slip out onto the wooden decking and circle the ship.

The breeze is certainly tidal as her skirt blows up and she pushes it quickly down much to Robert's supreme amusement. He stands doubled over beside her as she keeps her hands clutched over it, the layers of chiffon seemingly unwilling to behave.

"Not funny Robert."

"I don't know. The way you grabbed for your skirt and looked around as though everyone was watching was really something." The wind whistles between their joint laughter and Cora shivers. He tugs her closer, the silk of his jacket pressing to her bare arm. He doesn't offer his jacket, which was his usual reaction to her being cold which further raises her suspicions as to the contents of his inside breast pocket.

"If you're not going to give me your jacket I'd rather go back inside. It's freezing."

"Can we just get to the front and look out over the sea and then we can go back inside?" His hand wanders across her back and over her hip- how on earth was she supposed to refuse that?

She studies the stars as they reach the prowl. The bright whites and yellows against the inky night. But it's the sounds that are extraordinary. The crash of the waves against the ship as it literally cuts the waves below them in half. Out to sea all was so calm and yet below them white horses frothed a metre or two high. You could hear the panting of the horses, the neighing as they kicked up, toppling their rider, it was all hidden in the echo of the slamming against the hull. The purring of the propellers could be heard as they banged and clashed in response to the waves. It was dramatic stood where they were- the world appeared as though it went on forever- the horizon miles away. There was a smell too; a salty poignancy that hung in the air, it was the scent of the open ocean. It was so powerfully overwhelming, particularly as her eyes begin to sting with the wind. Cora could suddenly feel what Rose might have felt, stiff on the front of the doomed Titanic. From this view you couldn't get any better. It was a perfect release. Cora's own worries fade with the realisation that the world was large and she had found plenty in it to be thankful for unlike many others. She would face the demons full on rather than let them take control of her.

"Cora?"

"Yes?" She rips her attention from her senses, from the empowering scene and looks towards the man who had made this all happen. She feels her eyes sting again but this time not from the wind, but tears.

He was a few feet to her right, slightly behind her (he'd always been slightly weary of heights) with the little box she'd spied earlier open in his hands. It was a ring. A beautiful, slim, diamond encrusted ring.

"I brought this the other day. Think of it as a late anniversary present." He takes it gently from the box and she holds out her right hand. The metal is so very cold, burningly so, against her skin. But his fingers are slightly warmer, and soft. It fits perfectly, obviously he'd done some snooping around for her ring size.

"It's truly stunning." The diamonds twinkle even in the moonlight and their fineness becomes immediately clear, sat on her hand was not a cheap ring. "You shouldn't have."

"I knew you would say that. And you're wrong Cora. It was a small price to pay to thank you for being so very wonderful. Twenty-five years has been a challenge but I've enjoyed all of it thanks to you. So as a symbol of my eternal love I've purchased you an eternity ring." She nods slowly, trying to keep the tears at bay. He clutches at her newly ringed hand, running his thumb gently over the gem. She falls against his side as they turn together to look out over the ocean.

"It's odd to think out marriage started here, looking out over an ocean on board a ship."

"Technically it started in a cottage a few miles from Downton." She chuckles against his shoulder, yes, the beginning of their honeymoon had been on Yorkshire soil but the end had been on the Mediterranean Sea.

"If you think about it lots of our important moments have been at Downton. You said you loved me there. We married there."

"How about we make this is special moment?" He tugs harder at her waist and she tilts her head instinctively up from his shoulder to admire his face. He leans down and kisses her gently. She turns her body into his pushing her fingers into his jacket, fidgeting his collar. He tasted woody, despite being a city boy he still carried that air of Downton with him. It was in his body and demeanour but it was also here, for her any way, in his kisses. They felt like home to her, just as Downton was his ancestral home. She feels her back bend into his arms as he presses more firmly, deeper. She lets him, it was true they'd had moments of freedom in the last two weeks, moments of pure abandonment. But this was different, this was throwing caution to the wind for love, much of their other moments had been mingled with a certain want of lust. He releases her just as another gust of wind sends her skirt high.

"Can we go back upstairs now?"

"Of course. But I rather hoped you'd agree to dance with me in the Horizons bar before the evening was out." Horizons was a bar, with a small dance floor and a piano that often hosted classical musicians in the evenings. It's name came from its position onboard- above the bridge- looking right out across the open sea, to the horizon. They had visited the bar on quite a few nights while the girls enjoyed the disco. It was dark and secluded, and just down the hall from their cabin.

"Of course."

"We don't have to." He's smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks, and she relishes the contact, and the way he stares into her eyes, seemingly hunting through them.

"Robert. I'm not a woman to turn down a hour or so of dancing with the man I love. And certainly not when he's broken the bank to buy me a ring."

"I'd break everything and anything for you." He lifts the ring to his lips kissing it softly.

It really was the perfect end to the holiday, swaying softly from side to side in Robert's arms. His murmurs of love tickling over her ear. She felt so stupid keeping secrets from him, keeping the letter hidden in the depths of her bag. Particularly after the statement he'd made with the ring. But she couldn't bear to see him upset with her, worried over her.

He'd moved her ring to below her wedding band- having admitted he'd felt uncomfortable making her do so on the deck, in case they dropped something and she found herself staring at it as it rests on his shoulder. And sat above it is that first ring, with the moderate central diamond and the hearts that flanked it. That ring that held many a memory.

The office had been hell all afternoon, it always was when everyone knew Robert was taking the afternoon off. They always flocked in demanding to know where he had taken her out this week; whether he'd proposed yet (that was the newest addition to the list) and various clients always decided to call demanding meetings or such like. Rosamund absolutely always called around for a cup of tea and a 'chat'. And if Violet decided not to drop in Cora left feeling as though it had been a success regardless of how much she still had left to do.

The other problem was, that she used to refuse to admit, but after two and a half years with him she'd stopped pretending- the office was far less enjoyable without him. They couldn't smirk about his clients or share stolen kisses; eat lunch across his desk as they discussed his next meeting; nor could she hear the gentle scrape of his pen or the tones of his voice as he talked on the phone. But worst of all, she couldn't turn and look at him when he wasn't looking, or indeed when he was.

Needless to say, early in August, the heat making the city insufferable it is a miracle she leaves the office at the six o'clock she manages- Robert had been gone since lunch. They were meeting for dinner tonight, at hers. He'd promised to try and go to the shops before she got home and she'd left him the key so he could let himself in- she'd still refused to move in with him.

Struggling through the front door, she still hadn't mastered how to use the lock and carry bags she's overwhelmed by the wafting of a familiar smell, roast dinner. The first meal they had shared together.

"Robert?" She wanders through into the kitchen to find him leaning casually against the central island. Wine already poured on the table. She reaches for the untouched glass and takes a swig, sighing inwardly. While she swallows she watches him, and ducks down to see in the oven.

"Are you worrying about my cooking?"

"No you're an excellent cook. You know I think that. But roast is quite extravagant."

"You deserve it. You say days at the office without me are trying so I thought I'd surprise you." She smiles and settles her hands on his sides, rubbing gently over the joining of his trousers and shirt. His lips meet hers as she tilts her chin to his. He kisses her immediately, brushing her cheeks with his hands. His palms were always warm, it never, absolutely never ceased to amaze her. They still made her blush as well, when they wandered over her bare skin. "Did you have mother and Rosamund or just my cheerful sister today?"

"Both." Not that she was about to divulge what they'd been talking to her about. Robert mainly. And Rosamund seemed set on Cora persuading her 'silly little Robbie' to propose: 'he will never make it without some encouragement.'

"Oh?"

"And your charming Gary called." She takes another gulp of wine, as he moves back to the boiling vegetables, the mere thought of Gary was enough to make Cora want to drown a bottle of vodka.

"Um I may have accidentally mentioned I would be out the office on Friday afternoon." He turns sheepishly a silly grin on his face.

"What! You must be joking. You know I hate him and you know he's a perve and keeps looking at me. He thinks-" He splutters a little as she keeps talking bringing her to an abrupt stop. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "I'd understand it, I would, if you were there to watch it and chuckle but this seems as though you just wished to imagine me suffering."

"Will you forgive me?" He was doing his puppy dog eyes which she struggled to resist even at the worst of times.

"I'll decide while I go and change into something else." She leaves him to the dinner, which seems well advanced and chewing her lip struggles to decide what from her wardrobe she wanted to wear. She'd spied the candles laid out on the sideboard, and added to the fancy dinner he was preparing she thought she might wear one of her casual dresses, he'd seemed to have made quite an effort.

Returning to the kitchen she finds him carving the beef he'd purchased. But she doesn't miss the pause of the knife as she appears in the doorframe. The dress was a new one on him, she'd only brought it now the weather had warmed up. It was a simple shade of pink with white dots forming a close pattern. The sleeves were capped, the waist band pulled in, allowing the skirt to appear full, the neckline was just a simple curved one.

"You look very pretty."

"And now you're trying to flirt me into forgiveness." He raises his eyebrows and she waggles hers in response.

"Did it work?"

"I'd forgiven you before I went upstairs." She takes the potatoes form the oven breathing in the heavenly smell. She did have to concede that Robert did manage a better golden crisp on his roasties than she did.

The rest of the meal is on the plates in moments and Cora finds herself hungrily digging in.

"I can't quite believe this was the first meal we shared together all of two and a half years ago." His musings are almost to himself as they finish discussing her afternoon in the office- leaving out all the parts where Rosamund had tried to persuade her to make an honest man out of Robert- and finish up the last of the meat.

"Well, this meal has been just as delicious." She stands piling the plates into the sink. "Why don't we have dessert in the garden? We could put some soft background music on?" She turns expecting to find him still sat at the table but instead he's right behind her, fingers reaching for her waist and pushing her hungrily into the cupboard. "Robert!" But she's laughing and he's grinning.

"I've been wanting to kiss you since the moment you stood in that doorframe in this beautiful dress." She lets him gently part her lips but the second she feels that instinctive want to push her fingers into his hair she pulls back- that would lead them to spiralling out of control and she wanted to sit in the garden for a while first. Enjoy the last of the summer with him.

"Did I-?"

"No. No. I'm fine." It was so typical Robert that even after all this time he worried about what he was asking her to do, particularly when he sprung situations on her. "I just want to sit outside with a tub of our favourite Baked Alaska Ben and Jerry's." He kisses her temple and turns for the patio doors.

She had a small decking area just beyond the patio doors she'd had fitted to replace the dull back door. And they now opened up straight onto the decking where she had a plastic wicker settee and table. The cushions for the settee were kept inside, but the rest could be left out in the weather.

She can hear him plumping them up as she begins rummaging in the freezer. Her fridge was always expertly organised but the freezer was always a different story. The huge boxes and packets everything came in, and the odd shapes of the trays in the freezer made it impossible to make everything visible at the same time as it fitting. She does finally find the tub with the polar bear on the front, it used to be a treat for her on special occasions but since meeting Robert it had become one of her regulars in the supermarket.

"I've got the spoons." His call from the patio accompanied the violent shoving of the top two drawers of the freezer. She breathes a sigh of relief as she finally shuts the door, the warm air from outside rushing into the space around her. She shivers.

The tub tumbles from her hand, thumping on the floor beside her toes, a ripple of pain races up her spine.

Her gasp creates an echo in the room. A short sharp squeak of noise.

Her fingers thaw as they find a resting place on the bridge of her nose, her hot breath sticking to her palms.

All her reactions happen within half a second, probably less, accompanied by the racing of her heart, the bouncing and twitching in her stomach as butterflies dance about.

What her eyes fell on, to stir the overdrive of her brain as nerves shouted and hollered producing a million impulses, is simply Robert. Just beyond her patio doors. Crouched on the floor. On one knee. With a ring.

"I know I should have done something fancy, taken you out. But the truth is, it wouldn't change what I want to say. I love you Cora."

"I love you too." Her hands are by her sides again but it doesn't stop the tears, the gentle plopping of the water onto her cheeks.

"So, will you, Miss Cora Elizabeth Levinson, consent to be my wife?" Her head was already nodding, she had been for a while, since he'd started.

"Yes. Yes, of course." The distance between them is quickly closed. Her feet move from the tiled floor to the decking. He takes her hands and she watches as it shakes in his, the ring slipping easily over her knuckle and into the place the Roman's said led straight to the heart.

She'd stared, admiring her ring the first time a man had done this to her but she doesn't this time. This time she barely glances at it, she had years to do that, this moment was a once in a lifetime one. She pulls at his collar, crushing her lips into his. If she'd thought their kiss before had been hungry it was nothing compared to this. She lets her fingers run rampant in his hair, her teeth nibbling at his lips, tongue jostling for power with his. His hands drift down her back, one sliding over her bottom, it was very intimate for the garden but she didn't care. She felt so very safe, so very sure of herself with him.

He's the one that pauses for breath, nose next to hers, forehead pressed together and his eyes watching hers.

"You like the ring?"

"It's not the ring that's important." He takes her hand, moving them gently to the cushions.

"No. But I do want you to like it." She finally looks at it. Begins to admire the weight on her finger. The weight that held so many delicacies. The facets of the three stones that sit on it are equal, all starting larger at the top and developing into smaller carved diamonds and squares. The central stone is marginally larger, the two flanking it are heart shaped and face towards the centre. It was clearly exceptionally well cut and with three diamonds, expensive. But it was very her, she loved it.

"It's lovely Robert. I'll be very happy to wear it." He places the box on the table and disappearing back inside reappears with the pot of ice cream.

They sit and eat, feeding each other the vanilla ice cream and frantically fighting over the white chocolate polar bears. She's leaning against him before she turns and swings her legs up onto the cushions, a sudden thought occurring to her.

"When are we going to tell everyone? It's Saturday tomorrow so mother will be calling, shall we wait a week, or-"

"I'll be very surprised if she doesn't already know." He reaches for the champagne he'd purchased and had since popped open, pouring some more. Cora feels her mouth dropping open as he forces the glass into her hand. "I called the other day to speak to your father and ask his permission. He gave me quite a speech which I imagine she heard."

"You mean to say both my parents knew about your intentions before I did?"

"I like to do things properly." Sometimes she dearly wished he would give up with properly and just run wild, but she supposed she'd fallen for, and was in love with the proper man. She should have known, and deep down she supposed she had known that he had asked.

"I hope he gave his permission."

"He did."

"Would you have proposed without it?" Her fingers slide between the buttons of his shirt as she settles against him.

"Yes. Yes, I actually think I would have done. I love you Cora and I'm a hundred, three hundred, percent convinced I can give you a wonderful life and that you will make mine wonderful. If your father had refused I would have argued hand and foot, tooth and nail."

"I would have argued with him too." She's pleased to see his soft smile shine in his eyes as well. She can't resist, she takes her newly embellished hand and cups his cheek, tilting her lips to capture his own.

"The other thing I wanted to decide upon was where you wanted the wedding, and when."

"Surely we've got time for that."

"Yes." His fingers stroke through her hair. "But my dear mother will no doubt have a heap of ideas and I don't want them to get in the way of yours. This is your wedding."

"Our wedding."

"You're the bride."

"And you're the groom." She has to grin at the thought of it all. Of Robert and her together at the centre of attention with all their family present.

"But it's definitely not hers." She fiddles with her ring, thinking back over what she knew of him, trying to decide what he might like. The grandeur and the style was him, somewhere beneath the business man Downton still raced in his genes. But would he want to marry there? She knew she did, it was a beautiful house and she didn't want to marry in the city- the city wasn't hers- she'd lived in New York for so long that London had taken some getting used to. But Downton, that great house had hosted them numerous times and held many happy memories. In all honesty she thought the house was underused by the family. Robert's father was not a big fan but Cora saw a charisma that they had overlooked with it being theirs.

"I'd like to have at least the reception at Downton. So I suppose the church in the village for the ceremony." She smoothes the creases on the inside thigh of his trouser leg, unsure whether she could look at him.

"Not America?"

"Goodness no. My life with you has been here. America holds some fairly dreadful memories and it doesn't have a beautiful country house. Besides strictly speaking your family owes that house a lot, I think it's time you used it more. Became a member of the village population. I'd like to start that, when I'm your viscountess, and the best way to do so is to begin my link to your family there."

"I won't ask you about those plans but-"

"I'm only suggesting more weekends there. Being there for village occasions. Making an effort." He kisses her hand.

"You're too good for me." She doesn't say anything. She doesn't know what to say. "But a wedding at Downton does sound lovely if that's truly what you want."

"What I want, is you. We can discuss all this tomorrow." He chuckles as she slips into his lap. She twists her fingers into his hair.

"I hope you say that forever. That you want me."

"I wouldn't have accepted if I didn't think I could." As she kisses him beneath the summer stars she knows that this is what she wants. A life with him. A life in England. She'd rather bear the hurdles with him than the joys with anyone else.