6 December 1900
My dear friend,
I wish I could explain to you in person the misunderstanding that has taken place, but you have refused to respond to my invitations. So I feel compelled to write, hoping you will open this letter. I never, never meant any harm. Dr Jefferson is a friend of mine and he was in need of a job. I made the acquaintance of Dr Clarkson at one of the first war fundraisers you hosted at Downton and he happened to tell me he was in need of a stand in while he was on assignment in London. I merely mentioned Dr Jefferson and our own friendship.
Please take my words as apology and hopefully we can put this episode behind us.
Sincerely,
Antonia Coolidge
"I don't know, there seems to be something missing," Cora said thoughtfully as she studied the flower displays before her.
Violet walked around the table containing the large arrangements, humming in agreement.
"Perhaps…" the gardner stuttered, quickly spinning towards sprigs of holly and plucking two out of their containers before sticking them in the middle of his fur and poinsettia creations.
"That's better," Violet said in approval before turning a critical eye to the garlands spread across the greenhouse's table.
"You best get these to the church, Mr Thomlin, before you have to redo them all," Cora said kindly.
"What?" Violet asked innocently, "I didn't say anything."
Cora raised a knowing eyebrow, watching as the gardner carefully packed his creations in crates to be brought to the church bazaar. She watched the process in silence, and once the man finally left with a tip of his hat, Cora found herself alone with Violet for the first time since her mother's arrival.
"You've been absent from the house lately," Cora stated hesitantly.
"Hmph," Violet responded.
"It's just I haven't had a chance to speak with you," Cora began, picking up a cutting of pine and twirling it in her hands. "I'm sorry I failed at all of this."
"What on earth do you mean?" Violet wondered in shock.
"I mean, that I must have been a great disappointment for you to send for my mother," Cora said quietly, plucking the needles of the pine, the motion somehow relaxing.
"My dear," Violet said, placing a hand on Cora's arm, giving it a brief squeeze before letting go. The touch brought Cora's eyes up finally. "Even the strongest structures need a little support sometimes."
Cora smiled and nodded, taking a deep breath. "You were right about Antonia, of course."
"I'm not one to say I told you so when someone is already suffering, but...it's a tangled web that woman has woven." Violet shook her head, emphasizing her displeasure.
"Rosamund told me the gossip in London. Dr Jefferson is her...lover. The maid's son is really theirs!" Cora crossed her arms. "I cannot believe she abused my trust so."
"I do think she cared for you, Cora," Violet offered, "but was desperate to get him settled. Apparently Mr Coolidge was at the end of his generosity and was about to divorce her. And he had made it impossible for Dr Jefferson to find a position in London. The doctor turned to drink and Mrs Coolidge was about to be tossed out, virtually penniless. When Dr Clarkson mentioned he needed an assistant she must have seen it as a gift from Heaven."
"She wrote me, to apologize," Cora revealed, "and part of me wants to forgive, but when I think what could have happened to Sybil, nevermind the other business….to knowingly promote the services of someone so incompetent…I was such a fool."
"Do not be too hard on yourself. You were in need of a friend, and obviously so was she. Luckily little Sybil is as healthy as a young girl should be." Violet said.
"Yes, that is true," Cora agreed, smiling wanly and folding her arms. She looked away, thinking about what could have been.
Cora watched indulgently from her spot on the sofa, sipping the morning tea that Carson had served them. The girls had gotten the whole house up before the sun had time to rise, eager to see what Father Christmas had brought. They had decorated the library with streams of ripped wrapping paper, tossed bows and brand new toys, their happy voices calling for her to look at a new doll or new frock, holding their presents up proudly for her to see. Martha took Cora's usual role and handed present after present over to the girls.
The winter sun, now up, was muted by clouds that promised snow. Cora glanced at the mantle clock. Rosamund and Marmaduke had slept in, no doubt just waking and the part of her that seemed to be eternally fatigued envied them their prolonged sleep. Violet would arrive soon with her own abundance of gifts.
Her thoughts turned to Robert, as they often did at moments when his absence was most keenly felt. She hoped he was finding a little Christmas respite, that there was some way to celebrate the holiday where he was. A second Christmas missed. A second Christmas apart. She wondered how many more they would have to endure before he came home.
"Milady?" Carson addressed her softly as he swiftly entered the library. She looked up distractedly but got to her feet in a hurry at the pinched, uneasy look upon his face. Following him quickly to the great hall, she stopped short. Two gentlemen waited, looking up at the enormous columns of stone, the arches of the gallery, the decoration. Cora's breath caught in her throat, taking in their crisp uniforms, the medals on their lapels, their shiny boots, so like Robert's.
"Lady Grantham," the older one said deeply, removing his hat at her arrival. "We regret to inform you that Leftenant Crawley-"
She had left, after they had told her she had heard herself thanking them, as though watching a performance from the box in a theater. She had walked them out. She had felt Carson hovering behind her, saying something, something she couldn't quite piece together. And then she had burst through the door. Without her coat, in just a light day dress. The bitterness of the morning should have left her shivering but she was heated through, suffocating on it. She walked fast, pushing everything away but the crunch of the gravel under her feet. She was only slightly aware of Carson's echoed shouts for her, growing more and more distant as her feet picked up speed. Soon she was running.
It was only when she got to the door that she became aware of where she was. Everything became startlingly, starkly clear and the growing feeling of suffocation took over, so that when the butler opened the door, she couldn't seem to get a full breath. After his initial look of shock, he stepped aside and she stumbled into the house.
"Cora?" Violet gasped as she burst into her mother in law's bedroom, the woman's breakfast tray still bridged over her lap.
"I didn't know where to go," Cora whispered, clasping her shaking hands, her teeth beginning to chatter.
"Cora," Violet said her name carefully, placing her breakfast tray aside and getting up slowly, "what's happened?"
"Robert…" His name came out on the hitch of a breath.
"What's happened to Robert?" Violet's voice rose in volume as she came to where Cora stood.
"He's missing," Cora responded, shaking her head as though she couldn't comprehend the words leaving her mouth. "His unit was ambushed and he's missing."