Richard hadn't had near as easy an evening as he had expected. He had gone to his daughter and son-in-law's home because he wanted to discuss the run in with "Machiavelli in a Frock" and how best to handle things when she came to Downton over the holidays with people who knew at least as much as he did about the full extent of her connection to Robert. That was a topic of conversation to be sure, but Rosamund had also made it clear that she thought he'd treated her mother unfairly. "Remember that it was your idea to keep Robert's whole situation with Melissa from Mama to begin with," she pointed out for the third or fourth time that evening. "You shouldn't be angry with her for a misjudgment you've helped to foster by keeping all of this from her."
"Rosamund, please…" Richard began to protest, but his headstrong daughter ignored him.
"And you punished her for what really were Melissa's comments. From what you said, Mama was listing her usual complaints about Cora - her being an American, her usual social foibles, and Mama's views that Cora is a little spoiled and too emotional - but the real insults were leveled by Melissa," Rosamund said. "Mama even defended Cora, immediately, when Melissa compared her marriage to Robert with prostitution. Yet, now Mama's sitting up in that cold window seat waiting for you to come home. And what you said to her…"
He saw his daughter's indignant pout and sighed. "Your defense of your mother is a credit to you. We argue and such on occasion, but at least there is love in this family." He was pleased to see her smile at last. The family he'd made was so very different from the one he'd grown up in. His own father would've never tolerated such insolence from one of his children, especially a daughter. Even so, he could not imagine being a father like the one he'd so detested. Just the thought of it made him cringe even now.
Seldon Crawley IV had been everything a man of his time should have been - tall, handsome, a decorated veteran, wealthy, and a powerful presence in whatever room he entered. His marriage to Lady Edith Grainger, a daughter of the Earl of Carnarvon, had been the talk of society as much for the extravagance of the reception as for the bride's beauty. They'd appeared to be the ideal family, but reality was far different. Only his position as first-born son had saved Richard from the full brunt of life within Downton Abbey's walls.
Seldon, while appearing to be the picture of the ideal Victorian era man,had very few skills. He'd even lacked the few required to properly manage an estate. He'd had no sense of money management, spent frivolously, but kept his charitable contributions as small as he could while still keeping to his duties of noblesse oblige. The one thing he had had a knack for beyond spending which bordered on the ludicrous even to those of his standing was an uncanny ability to gauge how things ought to be, at least ho whey should appear on the surface. With great care he directed his life, and everyone in it, like a great play to meet and exceed the expectations of his class even if the perfection was all illusion. No one could step out of place or challenge him in any way without being quickly and harshly confronted. He'd married the woman he'd decided would garner him the most envy. They'd never loved each other but were both sure that the marriage 'looked right'. emotions were immaterial. The couple had had children as close to when Seldon saw fit as biology would allow and then he'd had four other lives to run as he felt they should be. By the time Richard returned home from school, after his siblings had grown into young people with their own minds, the house had been in near constant turmoil. Anything could've tipped the place into a figurative civil war at that point, but what, or rather who, had done it was Violet arriving into their lives and Richard couldn't have been more thankful for finding such a vibrant woman.
"Will you remind Mama of the love in this family when you get back?" Rosamund asked.
Richard gave a sigh. "I'll talk to her when she wakes up. It's after midnight. Your mother was fast asleep long ago and I wouldn't want to disturb her. There is no need for you to continue to try and make me feel guilty with this fictional portrait of your mother sitting tearful and forlorn waiting all to catch sight of the carriage approaching. It was only a disagreement, Rosamund, she and I are quite alright, I assure you," Richard said trying to ease his daughter's unspoken, but barely concealed fear. Richard and Violet rarely fought and Rosamund had been a child the last time he'd walked out of the house and left his wife suddenly alone for a few hours. That time she had waited for him and whimpered apologies through tears when he'd returned to the point it had made him feel a little guilty. He was glad that his wife couldn't stay awake like she used to. Even so, he'd still go to her bed to check on her and he'd still give her a goodnight kiss.
"Yes, Papa," Rosamund said at least partially pacified, "so what do we do about Melissa then? Do we tell Robert?" she asked. "Do we tell Cora?"
Marmaduke, who had remained silent throughout Richard's and Rosamund's discussion of Violet, felt comfortable weighing in on this topic. "Let your brother handle his own wife. I'll send a message on to him explaining the conversation you and Lady Grantham have had with her and our theories about her motives. He'll discuss what he feels he needs to with Cora." They all agreed that this plan was probably best and then moved on to more lighthearted conversation. It was nearly one o'clock when Richard finally got into his carriage and started for his London home.
As they walked upstairs, Rosamund gently caressed her husband's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to sit through all that. It must've been terribly awkward," she cooed and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Marmaduke smiled and wrapped his arm around his wife's waist. "You forget that I had four older sisters, my love. I've been conditioned from my earliest days to be quite used to being dropped into talk of everyone's personal business." His wife giggled and leaned into him affectionately. "My silence is a finely honed defense mechanism against saying something that I shouldn't," he replied with a smirk as they walked to the bedroom.
As his carriage rumbled along, Richard let his mind wander back to his youth and the surprising parallels and vast oceans of difference between his situation and that of his son.
Given his father's temperament, Richard always figured he could have either grown up to be just like him or his polar opposite. There had never been much middle ground on anything concerning his father. Richard had chosen the latter path and was always more focused on the way things were rather than the way they seemed to be, and genuine happiness over an easily attained, but hollow facsimile. He didn't stifle his emotions and was not embarrassed by them. "They're just as much a part of me as my arms and legs," he'd once told his mother much to her disappointment.
He'd met eighteen year old Violet at her first party of her first season and by the end of the night he'd been without doubt that she was the woman he wanted to marry. He'd told her as much and then set about trying to convince her of how right he was. She was fiery, smart, funny, beautiful, passionate - everything he loved. His parents abhorred the match, so Richard publicly announced their engagement at her family's home. That way it would be known in the society circles before it was known at Downton Abbey. The shortness of their engagement had also been the result of his wanting to involve his family as little as possible. Despite their opposition to the union, he parents had figured that the scandal of breaking them up would be worse for the family than allowing their son the woman he loved and soon Violet had arrived at Downton Abbey as the new Viscountess Downton. The unkindness that had been visited upon her unrelentingly by her in-laws had gone nearly unnoticed as the pair basked in the joys of newlywed bliss. Seldon had been quietly working on a plan to annul the marriage when, sooner than anyone expected or indeed thought possible, Violet was with child. She'd flitted merrily around the house with a care in the world, immunized to the dismissive treatment and barbed comments sent her way by Richard's love and the excitement over their future.
After Rosamund's arrival it had gotten harder and harder for Violet to cope with the distain that the birth of a girl had done nothing to abate. Her unexplainable inability to get pregnant again hadn't helped matters. Often she would sneak off to the nursery to hide from her overbearing in-laws. It had been the one place they wouldn't go looking for her. Richard would find her there and stay with her, sometimes for hours playing with their beloved little girl and trying to forget the harsh world outside the nursery door.
Finally, nearly four and a half years after Rosamund's birth, Violet was finally expecting again. Far from being the picture of radiant joy she had been during her first pregnancy, Violet had been weepy and depressed under the ever mounting pressure to "make this one a boy". Then one day something happened - Violet insisted she couldn't remember and no one ever came forward to tell him what they knew - but Richard had returned home from riding to find his wife in an unconscious heap at the bottom of the stairs. "It seems she tripped," his father had remarked blankly as he'd walked through the hall as if nothing were wrong. Richard had lost whatever little bit of respect he'd had for his father in that moment.
She'd lost the baby girl she'd been carrying and relations between Richard and his parents had reached rock bottom. Violet had become pregnant again after another two years of waiting and Richard refused to leave her for any longer than he had to. By this time Violet had put any qualms about arguing with her husband's parents out of her mind completely. She had spent years under attack from the two of them and now she'd begun to fight back. She was well into her seventh month when, after a disagreement between them that had devolved into a shouting match, she'd begun having complications. Robert was born the next week, a month early. He was tiny, thin, and weak, but he was alive. Downton had an heir but it had also been on the verge of losing Violet. The strain of the pregnancy with its recent problems, the difficult birth of an early baby, and the constant stress she was under had taken all Violet's strength and she spent the next two weeks in bed barely alive. She had told him later that her first conscious memory was being cradled in his arms with their son resting on her chest and her daughter cuddled close and hearing him whispering that she best get better "because our children need their mother, I need my wife, and Downton needs its Countess."
The carriage came to a stop and Richard stepped out. There was light in some of the windows, so it looked as if someone in the house had waited for him. He mind was still sifting through memories as he made his way inside. The London butler, Lesley, took his coat, hat and gloves and then Richard went into his study. He poured himself a whiskey and sat lost in thought.
If it hadn't been for Violet's illness and his new son's frailty, his handling of his father's death would've raised eyebrows. They had followed the protocol, of course, but that was all. Richard found it fitting that his father, who had always focused so much on how thing seemed to others, had been mourned mostly for appearances' sake. Richard's focus had been the health of his son and his wife and all of his free time had been spent with them and his daughter who was plagued by nightmares about losing her family. The baby had also seemed to need the presence of his parents even with all the nurses and nannies he had hovering over him. One day he just wouldn't stop crying. Hours passed and the child had howled inconsolably. Rosamund had snuck out of the nursery to inform her father and insisted he visit the baby whom she had practically taken ownership of and referred to as her "best ever present". When Richard had finally picked him up, little Robert quieted, so Richard and the ever-watchful Rosamund had taken the new heir on a tour of the house that would one day be his. Richard told his children about the paintings and the people in them and introduced some of the staff - whomever he happened to see around - to his little boy who was now very happy in his father's arms.
Violet and Richard had been uncommonly involved parents. Him because he associated distance with his father and refused to put his children through the type of childhood he'd endured and her because the doctor had told her she would most likely never have another baby. That knowledge had made her treasure the children she had all the more. Richard was a true child at heart and he'd built kites, commissioned a simply glorious tree house, bought plenty of wonderful toys, and played with them right along side his children. Violet, while much more adherent to society's rules, nevertheless always made time to spend with her children every day and would pop into the nursery whenever she had the opportunity. Rosamund grew into quite the accomplished young society lady and Robert became his father's shadow. If Richard went into town, Robert was right behind him. If Richard had friends over, the whole of the nursery staff had to be on watch to be sure that Robert didn't sneak out to join the gentlemen as they socialized, especially once Rosamund had grown out of the nursery and begun taking part in these events with her parents. On one occasion when he'd been successful at evading his nanny, the precocious Robert had wandered into the library after his parents had hosted a dinner party for a very influential member of the House of Lords and all the men were gathered there in conversation. No one knew what to make of the seven year old as he climbed into a big wingback chair dressed in his best clothes, sighed, and folded his hands in his lap. "Did you see the Times today?" he asked just as his father always did. "It's unbelievable!"
The gentlemen all burst out laughing. "A tray of chocolate biscuits and a glass of milk for the young viscount," the guest of honor said. "He and I must discuss the affairs of the world." Richard brimmed with pride and, after Richard put his son to bed, both he and his wife were showered with praise for their children by their guests.
He and Violet had changed so much at Downton Abbey. Richard had brought some sense to the expense accounts and developed far more efficient operating procedures. He was by no means miserly, but his personal taste and his preferred life as a family man rather than a social climber did away with a lot of the excesses his parents had lived for. He allowed staff numbers to fall by attrition to a level that served the families needs and was not overly burdensome to the servants, but which saved money and provided a more close knit atmosphere that he felt benefitted the children. The family treated the servants with dignity and kindness and were generally well respected by them in return. Richard and Violet had also set about repairing the family's image with townsfolk as well. This effort was helped greatly by Richard's daily walks into the village, usually in the company of his little boy. Even so there were two things he had not succeeded in fixing. One was the financial mess. He had tried his hardest, but, combined with the fall of prices of agricultural products and new taxes, it had still proved to be imperative that Robert marry someone of considerable wealth to keep the estate solvent. The other was Violet's entrenched classism. For all of her redeeming qualities, she could be very harsh if she felt someone who was 'beneath her' was pushing their way into her life. It was especially evident in her dealings with her children's spouses.
Marmaduke Painswick was not an aristocrat, but a wealthy banker. His lack of noble status had irked Violet from the start, but she had not been able to deny her daughter both the happiness he bought her and the financial security he provided for her given their family's own money problems and had grudgingly accepted their match, though he was still always a target for her comments - that is, when she ran out of things to say about her new daughter-in-law.
Cora brought out the worst in his wife's character. It wasn't just that she, too, was common, or even that she was American that had turned Violet so firmly against her, it was that Robert had not married for love and that no one had consulted Violet at all about the match much before it had been made. She had not wanted an arranged marriage for either of her children, but if there had to be one, she had wanted to be involved to try to make sure her boy was as happy as could be expected. Instead she had been left home alone for months while Robert and Richard went to America and then London and it was only at the end of the Season that she'd even set eyes on the woman that her son was nearly engaged to when they'd brought her to Downton - Violet's Downton - without even asking her first. It was no wonder she resented the girl, but Richard wished she wouldn't be so cruel about it. After all, it was hardly poor Cora's fault and he couldn't help but think that, had they met under different circumstances, Robert and Cora might have come together on their own.
Richard sighed and drained his glass. He yawned and looked at the clock. It was almost two in the morning. He yawned again and made his way up the stairs. He was shocked by what he found at the top. His wife was seated in the window seat of the large window opposite the staircase leaning against the window fast asleep. Her ladies maid, Maggie, was just about to cover her with a blanket when Richard stopped her. "It's too cold for her out here. I'll carry her to bed." He gathered Violet up in his arms and she snuggled into his neck as he carried her to the bedroom they usually shared. He could feel how cold she was and held her tight. Maggie opened the door for him and turned down Her Ladyship's bed. She quickly removed the ornaments from Violet's hair before Richard gently laid his wife down in the bed. She shivered as she left his embrace. He took off his dress coat and tucked it carefully around her before pulling the blankets up over her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered a goodnight to her and then he and the maid left the room.
After Richard had undressed and put on pajamas, he climbed into the bed in his dressing room. It had been ages since he'd last slept alone and his mind wandered to Robert complaining after his injury about how cold and uncomfortable the bed in his dressing room was. He had to concur. Sleeping alone was miserable, but he thought waking Violet after she'd been up all night was unkind. He was starting to think that leaving her alone the way he had had perhaps been a bit heavy handed of him. Had he known she'd wait for him all night, he would have come home earlier. He rolled onto his side and began to give in to sleep. No sooner had he closed his eyes when he felt a familiar presence in bed behind him and a small hand come to rest on his chest. He could hear her soft crying as she leaned into his shoulder. "Violet, darling, whatever is the matter?" he asked groggily. He rolled onto his back and she immediately cuddled close. In the light of the candle she'd brought and set on the nightstand he could see that she was still fully dressed apart from shoes. Her hard, steel-boned corset was no where near as delightful to caress as Violet was in her usual nightwear, but he dared not push her away.
"I missed you, Richard," she whimper softly. "I'm so sorry for the way I behaved. Please forgive me." She wouldn't meet his gaze as the tears dripped from her cheeks. He hadn't seen her like this in so many years and it hurt him to think that he'd done this to her.
"I missed you too, my love," he said gently as he rubbed her back soothingly. "I thought about you all night. Even if I hadn't, Rosamund wouldn't have let me forget about you."
Violet finally looked up at him. "Rosamund? You were at Rosamund's?" she asked.
"Yes, where did you think I would be?" he asked reaching up to dry her tears.
"I didn't know," she said looking down again, "… and I didn't think it was my place to ask. All you said was that you had some business to attend to."
Richard figured out what she was hinting at and he hugged her. "Oh, my darling girl," he said as he kissed her forehead, "… it would take far more than your sharply worded gossiping to make me stray. Is that what kept you up all night?" he asked as he kissed her again.
She shook her head. "No, I was thinking about how angry I made you this afternoon, and what I said," she paused and looked into his eyes, clearly deeply wounded, "… and what you said." She reached for the hand he had resting on his stomach and held it gently. "I am sorry, Richard."
He lay quiet for a moment recalling his words and how much they must have hurt her. "Oh, Violet, you know I didn't mean it that way."
Violet looked at him. "Are you sure?" For all her icy words, his Violet was very easily hurt. It would take more than a few words that night to make this right and it was too late for long conversations. "It's warmer in my bedroom," she said as she stood and went to the door. "Come to bed." He followed her without bothering with his dressing gown. Without a word he started to unbutton her dress and help her unpin her hair. He freed her from her corset but didn't bother trying to remove her underclothes. He didn't feel like he should after what he'd said that afternoon. They got into bed together and Violet blew out the candle. "Goodnight, Richard, I'm glad you came home to me," she said in the dark.
"Goodnight, my love," he said feeling very guilty. "… and as long as I live, I'll always come home to you." He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, Violet," he said.
"I'm sorry, too," she said thankful that he couldn't see her tears. "I love you," she murmured softly.
His lips found hers in the darkness and he kissed her tenderly. He wished his lips could repair what his words had broken. "I love you too," he whispered. "I love you so very much."
A/N - Robert and Cora will be back in the next chapter, I promise.