AN: This chapter develops the sub plot of this story involving Roberts parents, but never fear Cobert is the second half! Hanks for all the wonderful support, pleased you are all still enjoying this.

Patrick senses her presence before his wife steps into the library. The gentle clip of her heels had been his companion for years. She swirls into the room, her blue dress swishing at the floor in the commanding way it always had, even when she was an unmarried daughter of a baronet. The startling blonde hair is still coiffed upon her head, as it was then, the only difference being the shade of it, darker now than it had been before; the ginger highlights more easily seen. Her corset pulls her already tiny waist in to a ridiculous size and he places his hands on her waist as he leans down to kiss her cheek in greeting, breathing in the homely scent of her perfume. She turns away, a look of slight disgust marring her beautiful features.

"Patrick really, you can drop the charade, nobody is here to see it." He doesn't bother replying. He doesn't bother telling her it is not a charade, that he does care for her, she won't listen, she had refused to do so since the day they married. Besides, he knows it won't change anything, not when her heart is captured by another man. "But, thank god Martha, as she calls herself, is gone." Patrick admires her delicate form as she flops onto the settee in an uncharacteristic moment of relaxation rather than duty.

"Um, it will be hard on Cora. We must make sure she doesn't forget her duties. You should have seen the way she sulked off after they left yesterday."

"Oh Patrick give it a rest. They have been married a mere two months and a little and I have never seen Robert happier than he looked when he returned from travelling with her."

"I don't care how happy he looked." He shouts, as is his habit when Violet is undoubtedly in the right.

"I do. I tell you, it's a good sign, you know it is. When I returned from travelling with you I was still as nervous as a leaf, even if you were grinning from ear to ear. Cora, on the other hand looked as happy as Robert."

"I care little for the woman." It doesn't matter that this statement doesn't even fall close to his true feelings, she was a dear, the young American beauty, he only hoped she would not have her heart broken, as he had. "But, she does have a duty. An heir is needed."

"Take that back Patrick, now. It took us a good three years to produce a healthy child and even then I had to go through the terror of your mother because Rosamund was not a boy. Six years in total it took us. They have been married two months." She stands from the chair, her face a bright red, her eyes flashing with anger and he smiles, he feels the curve of his lips as she stands angry before him, she always was so desirable when she was angry. "What on earth is so funny?"

"Nothing. You angry I suppose."

"Well it better not be the thought of your mother getting at me, because I tell you she was terrifying."

"I don't doubt it." She seems to relax then, and returns to her seat. Her dress drops a little forward at the front as she sits, her maid having not tied the laces correctly and Patrick feels a blush rise to his cheeks as the tops of her breasts become apparent to him. His flustered situation causes him to miss the first half of what she says but he gets the general point as she rounds off her speech.

"Just don't force them Patrick. I know Robert well enough, and I've seen him with Cora often enough to know that he will take offence to you bringing up the entail."

"Why will he take offence because of the way he is with Cora."

"Oh Patrick." She drops her hands into her lap, her fingers tapping at her knees, a look of mock annoyance on her face. "Can't you see that he rather likes her?"

"What man doesn't? She's rather stunning."

"Yes, well, she's out of your reach thank god, she's your daughter-in-law, not some upper class tart." Patrick is not shocked by the harsh words that echo from her mouth, he'd heard them all before, but as he had for two decades he wasn't about to correct her.

"My point is I don't see what's going for her, other than the obvious beauties."

"Quite frankly, neither do I, the accent maybe. But the point remains that Robert looks at her in a protective way, an admiring way, he's not looked at anyone like that before. I'm just warning you to be careful, let Robert and Cora sort themselves, let them settle into marriage without our interruption. An heir will come, particularly if as you say, she is as desirable to your son as she is to you. Let's just hope he doesn't break her heart." The last words are said in a bitter venom, and Patrick knows she puts it on, he never broke her heart, he never got close to touching it.

"She will lose her attraction eventually."

"That is what I fear. I fear with the influence of home Robert is already ignoring her too much."

"You can't ignore a wife, she is around you all the time." He knows from experience it's impossible to break certain people from a mans mind, however big the house. Violet merely titters and shakes her head at his remark. "I still maintain that an heir is key to the whole equation. They can only relax once they have had a son, regardless of the feelings either of them bear, an heir will allow them to broaden their relationship, their duty already done."

"I beg to differ Patrick. I realise in hindsight I should have been closer with my children, this would have been achieved more easily if you and I had formed a relationship that was not solely based on having a son." Her words are bitter, not something Patrick often hears. He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out, his mind haunted by the tone of his wife's voice. Cora and Robert long forgotten he moves to sit next to her, taking her hand.

"Do you really regret it?" She removes her hand from his grasp, her fingers awkwardly twiddling with her cuff.

"Sometimes more than others. I did when I saw Cora with her father, how easy they were in each other's company. How well they knew each other." He only senses the tears in her eyes, as he looks up they don't exist, her face turned to the ceiling as she turns them away. "Of course I'm being ridiculous, I'm a lady, not a wet nurse." And just like that the vulnerable lady that he would love to comfort, to take in his arms has vanished, replaced by the prim, proper lady of the house.

"Not ridiculous. I, at the expense of my reputation would like to understand our children better. Robert particularly, I never seem to understand what makes him tick, and Rosamund, well, good luck to Marmaduke." Violet laughs at that, her angel face tipping backwards, the softness of her throat exposed to him, her golden curls bobbing on her head.

Cora's hand pauses above the paper and Robert can't help but admire the elegance of the swirls he can see from where he sits. Cora had been given a sitting room in the house as a wedding gift from his parents and she was in the process of drawing up plans for the furniture and paintings she wished for, as well as any further decoration. But this morning she had taken a break to write a letter to a friend in America. It was the writing of this letter that Robert had been observing for the last half an hour. He was supposed to be reading his book, but alas he had become distracted, by Cora.

Her chocolate curls were piled on her head in her usual style, but somehow she looked twice as pretty as usual, perhaps it was the stray curl that hung at the back of her neck, begging for him to twirl it between his fingers. Every time she was struggling for words to write she tipped her head from one side to the other, her hand stroking over the pendant that sits at the base of her throat. Her pen clatters to the table and Robert lifts his head to her, his eyes having always been focused on her over his book.

"Why do you ignore me so?" Robert starts, her angelic voice with its American accent bouncing in the air between them. "Have I done something wrong?" He shakes his head at that, not even beginning to fathom where her questions are stemming from. Ignoring her? Was he? He spent every day with her at various points, not all day but he always made effort to spend some time with her. "Only, since we returned from Paris, you don't visit me so often at night, and during the day you are often not with me."

"Cora," he says her name, and her eyes swing towards him, they flash, but not with anger, a strange uneasiness, an insecurity. "It's not that I don't want to be with you. But I have things to do now we have returned to Downton." He sees her huff, her chest rising, the swell of her breasts appearing above her measured dress. He feels his cheeks flush and he looks away.

"But surely I'm important? I'm your wife. In the future you may need my help with things, why don't you teach me about the estate?"

"Teach you...about...about the estate?" He stares incredulously at her and his eyes are wide as she stands, slotting the pen lid roughly onto her pen and throwing it to the table.

"Yes, Robert, teach me, show me. Or am I too much of a little women for that?"

"No Cora, of course not." He steps towards her, reaching for her laced wrist but she snatches it away, her hands staying fixed firmly at her sides. They stare at each other, Cora's eyes showing an unbreakable resentment. "It's just not a woman's world. That's not how England works."

"Robert, I'm not English. You married an American, out of choice I might add. I don't care how you do it. I care about me and this marriage. I refuse to sit around like a useless piece of fluff only useful for producing children." She takes a steadying breath here, but by the way her finger raises in front of her and stabs at his chest and the fiery flash in her eyes he knows she's far from finished. "And as for that, if you really want a son you ought to get on with it, one isn't going to be bought on the stork." Tears begin to rush down her cheeks, seemingly from nowhere and he reaches for her elbows as she sways slightly before falling onto the chair she vacated a few moments before, her words still coming in floods of anger. "That's what you want isn't it, a child, a son and then you're going to leave me to die a broken hearted old lady as you dally around with various younger women."

"Cora, Cora," he hugs her closely, rocking her slowly from one side to the other. He shakes his head against her curls, that lie beneath his chin, before tilting his lips to kiss the lavender scented chocolate. "I made a promise to you, no other women, never."

"But-"

"No buts. I promised. Besides, you will always be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, or will ever see." He doesn't know where the words come from, somewhere other than the functioning part of his brain, of that he is sure.

"Really?" Her small voice is shaky, unsure.

"Yes. I deprived a lot of men, every other man on earth in fact, of taking the American Princess, as they liked to call you, as his wife. The most beautiful woman." Her eyelids close, her lashes fluttering shut as she looks at her lap, where her hands are clasped. Her finger twists at her wedding band, the startling cluster of diamonds on her engagement ring being the recipient of her next touch. He takes his hand to hers, stilling her fingers before motioning for her to stand. He guides her to the chair he had sat in earlier, leaving her standing before him as he lowers himself to the chair. He pulls her onto his lap then, pleased to feel the familiar vibrations against his neck that are her giggle. He'd grown accustomed to her ways, her laugh, her smile, the way she twirled her fingers and wore her hair. The sound of her voice, her accent that dripped over his name. The curves of her body, the places that elicited a moan or a gasp, the tender places on her neck that made her say his name, the corners of her mouth that made her flush. He knew all these things, yet he never knew what she was thinking, why she didn't believe in herself, the things that troubled her, made her cry.

"What about the entail though. A son is what you want, isn't it?" She sounds so sure as she peers into his eyes, her own seemingly searching his for answers.

"We have ages to worry about that. Let's focus on you and I for a while."

"How long is a while?" Her head rests on his shoulder again and Robert marvels over her creamy complexion for a minute before he kisses her cheek.

"As long as you wish my dear. From now on I think we need to say more of what we each want and come to compromises. Where would you like to start?" His own grin is mirrored by hers.

"I want you to sleep in my bed." He bites back the need to tell her that is not possible. Not if they are going to wait a while to have a child. The fact society deems it unnecessary doesn't bother him anymore, it's protecting her from the strange need he seems to have developed for her. "I know it can't be every night. But once a week maybe?" She whispers against his neck, her hands clutching at his lapels, the two sensations make him take a steadying breath to calm his racing heart.

"If that is what you wish." He kisses her neck and she nods against his shoulder.

"May I be greedy and ask something else?"

"You needn't ask." She sits up a little, her legs still across his.

"What has changed since we returned home. Why do you not come to me and flirt with me as you did in Paris?" He looks into her honest eyes and he can't help but tell her everything. The fact he doesn't want to burden her, mixed with the strange feelings he can't understand, and the need- that it's not a totally physical thing, it's just her in general. He tells her that he wants to know her more before building a family. He explains how he has to tread carefully around his parents and that it was weird returning to Downton, the two worlds he had lived in suddenly collided, the one that contained her, and the one that was Downton. She nods in understanding before kissing his cheek gently. "Tell me when things trouble you. I know your father is hard on you, I've seen it, come to me if you want to talk, and even if you don't. We have to try and build something that's not just physical, although I like that very much." Her cheeks stain a brilliant shade of pink. "A partnership, where we help each other, teach each other, have a little fun along the way and hopefully raise a perfect little hazelnut haired and blue eyed Viscount." He laughs at her vision, kissing her nose and then her lips.

"I rather hope he has chocolate curls like his beautiful mother. But once again we are getting too far ahead. This time is for us." He watches the relief that floods her features, it seemed the entail was really troubling her, he only hoped his parents wouldn't push the point, but he knew with his father hoping was in vain, it was all the man was probably thinking about.