AN: Right so, I was a bit off with the two week update I promised to some of you, sorry! But this chapter got out of hand (or the last section did anyway). This chapter is the last of the jolly ones for a few I am afraid so it contains some fluff and (completely unplanned) smut in the third section so if you don't like that the second half of the flashback is to be avoided. It wasn't planned, I really wanted to leave their reunion over Robin to your imaginations but that went out the window! I hope you enjoy and the next, very dramatic update, will be with you as soon as it is done.
I would like to give a heads up to zaibi12 who really motivated me yesterday. Enjoy, and please review!
Robert isn't surprised to open his eyes to an empty bed. Oh no, he could never be surprised at that when his nostrils are already being flooded with the smell of a roasting chicken. He had forgotten what it felt like to wake to those smells. In Grantham house the kitchen was so far from the bedrooms that no cooking smell ever reached them but here in Cora's house (he wouldn't call it her old house, she did still own it), with the kitchen right below the master bedroom the smell was more heavenly than the warm feel of the sheets wrapped around him.
He slips from between them, goosebumps immediately erupting right across his skin—the heating was currently off in the house to save Cora the bills when nobody was living as tenant to pay them for her.
He finds his pyjama bottoms and eagerly puts them on, he'd shower later, after roast (which he assumed was for lunch). For now his dressing gown will do.
He pads down the stairs determined to be as quiet as possible. It would be worth being able to surprise her.
He pauses at the door. The radio is on in the kitchen and she faces the stove. What captures his attention is the gentle swing of her hips from side to side as she sings along to the tune. Her arms reach into the air, her fingers splaying into jazz hands. He has to bite his tongue so not to laugh, not because she looks silly but because it was out of character for her—she didn't dance along to the radio, she rarely sang.
What makes him smile the widest though is what she is wearing. His shirt. The sleeves are rolled up and the hem easily falls to cover her bottom, stopping at her upper thigh. It reminded him of the morning after he'd first slept with her. That morning she had walked into this kitchen (when he was cooking) in his crumbled shirt. That was about thirty years ago and yes, she was a little rounder around the middle and there was maybe a line or two around her face. Her hips were less dainty and her hands more chapped but Robert didn't care, he didn't really notice (goodness, compared to him she looked like a goddess, not that that was new). All he saw was his Cora. Happy and beautiful, same as she had been all those years before.
The drums come into their own and Robert walks up behind her as she mimes the actions on the hobs, her feet twitching to one side or the other which each beat.
Her little squeal mixed with her suddenly rigid body which is immediately followed by her breaking down into a pile of laughter as he encircles her waist makes him laugh too.
"My dancing queen has made it up then?"
"Robert," she chastises gently, "don't scare me like that." He only chuckles against the soft skin of her neck. His arms are crossed right across her belly and her elbows sit against his lower arm, her fingers curling around his hands. "Besides, it is I who should be teasing you about being up. What time do you call this?"
"You haven't been up that long. That chicken has only been in, I would estimate, forty minutes." He presses a kiss to her shoulder. She laughs.
"You might be right. But at least I did get up to put it in. Mr Lazy Bones here was still fast asleep when I tiptoed down the stairs."
"It's been a long week at work and I most certainly read the early hours of this morning on the clock before we so much as stopped talking let alone anything else."
"Excuses, excuses." But he knows she is teasing, her body twisting in his arms so that she may kiss him.
He indulges her, it was all to easy to forget they had four children. One not even at school, another having boyfriend trouble. Edith was on the brink of marriage and a mother and Mary, well, she was counting down the months until she would be a single mum; Matthew quite gone from cancer.
That was all forgettable though when Cora winds her fingers into his hair and presses herself tightly to him. He breaks the kiss to find the buttons on the front of his shirt that she is wearing. He keeps his forehead pressed to hers.
"So tell me, why exactly are you wearing my shirt?" She blushes a light pink and her face drops down to watch his hands gently unbuttoning it. He stops to tilt her face back up to his. "You don't need to be embarrassed Cora."
"But you know why I like it." Her voice is a whisper and if he wasn't standing so close to her he would surely have missed it.
"I'd like you to admit it again." Her fingers tighten around his dressing gown. The knuckles turning white. It was strange how the simple things irked her still, even now. He knew it linked back to her past and Simon and how he had demanded she tell him what she liked (in a more sexual context).
"Which is when I remember that I married an incorrigible man." He laughs and is pleased to find that she emits a small chuckle. Her fingers tug less aggressively at his dressing gown and the look which penetrates from her eyes is his favourite look. The one that shows she is embarrassed by his comment. He liked embarrassing her. "I like...I like the smell. It makes me feel closer to you." She dips her head, her forehead falling again his collarbone.
"Do you know what I like about you wearing it?" She doesn't reply so he carries on. "I like that it reminds me of the fact you used to wear it all the time. And, more importantly, you look very dashing." She shakes her head at that and she looks up at him with a slight frown.
Before Robert can question her a timer makes a noise and she launches for the fridge.
"Time to prepare the stuffing." He helps her break up the bread crumbs and stick them together with water and then sprinkle the spices about but all Robert really thinks about is why she had frowned. What had he said that had upset her?
They finish with a flourish and she sets them in a Pyrex dish ready for cooking later.
"I thought I might go upstairs and change." She tilts her head, softly asking him to let her passed. When she takes another step towards him, he acts on instinct. On the instinct he'd had when he first walked into the room.
One hand finds her waist, the other cups her face slowly to his. Her lips easily move with his, the deep breaths when he pulls away a clear indication that she felt what he did. Her hand is fanned out over his cheek and chin as she adjusts her lips on his. It all goes swimmingly until he nudges her to rest against the central island in the kitchen and lets his hands settle on the buttons of her shirt. He pushes one of his hands up under the hem, trailing his fingers over her belly and side. The other stays on the outside, struggling to release the second button from where the fabric holds it. He knows she's reluctant the minute her hand drops from his cheek, quickly followed by her lips.
"Let's stick to kissing." She takes his hand from her front and holds it in her own. When she leans back up to kiss him he pulls away. He can feel his eyebrows pulling together, the heaviness of the skin pooling between them above his nose.
"Cora...? What...is there something-"
"Nothing. But we are older than we once were Robert and last night was enough to be recovering from."
"I hurt you?"
"No. No. Of course not. I'm just tired." He would believe her normally but there was something about the fact she'd been so willing last night and previously so excited about this trip, dropping hints about what she wanted to do.
"Cora, what is it?" He knows he's hit a nerve when she steps away from him, determined instead to walk about the room.
"We are grandparents now. Marigold is heading for two and George is growing so quickly. Sybil is practically an adult. Yet...we still seem to carry on as though we are young parents. It's not that I don't want to...it's...I just think maybe we are a little too old for some of what we get up to."
"I don't accept that Cora. Edward is not even two yet. He is our son, born out of love. That is not a couple who should just go more slowly just because they've aged a few years. More than that, this isn't at all like what you were whispering the other week, or even last night, about how you like that we still have sex. Cora-" He looks at her properly then, the way she holds the shirt around her with her arms crossed, protectively. The way her nails scratch over each other and her gaze is on the floor. He strides across the space and takes her in his arms. "Oh my darling, what is it?"
"You're right that I do like that we still...but I can't. I can't do it where you can see. It's fine at night in the dark but...but if you see that I'm not young and pretty but old and wrinkly-"
"Cora please stop. Stop saying such absurd things." Why hadn't he seen this coming on? She was often emotionally unstable about things (all of them things she should be content with) until she has had his full approval or he's proved it has no impact on him.
"But it's not absurd. Every woman, every wife, goes through those years of wanting to keep her husband but seeing his eyes wander elsewhere, however innocently that may be done. It's human nature. Men keep wanting things past the age woman do."
"Maybe. But I don't want anything but you Cora. Tell me why I would want to sleep with some random woman whom I've never met, rather then the woman who has provided my home for me; given birth to my children and stuck by me though ulcers, death and my mother!?" He chuckles, but he's knows he's miles from convincing her when he doesn't even get a smile. He briefly realises that the whole idiotic episode with Jane had likely added to her worries but he wasn't going to resurrect that.
"Maybe because she's prettier and-"
"She's not prettier though Cora, because pretty isn't about body shape or big boobs or whatever people think. It's about finding someone who, when you look into their eyes, you see their soul and all their thoughts. And when you hold them in your arms they fit. When they kiss and touch you it feels like time stops. That's pretty." He strokes a piece of hair that dangles by her face behind her ear. She doesn't say anything and because her eyes stay fixed somewhere by their toes he has no idea how she is taking what he's saying. "More than that though Cora, I love you. I don't wake in the morning and count how many more wrinkles you have, I wake and give thanks to the world that I'm waking beside you. Above all else in the world Cora, I give thanks for my wife."
Her head slowly stirs. First her forehead comes into view and then the length of her nose. But it's her eyes he waits for, they alone will tell him his success. They are a little damp at the edges which he quickly brushes away. She says nothing but takes his hand and squeezes gently, he kisses her forehead in return.
Those earlier thoughts that had been heated and passionate seem to have disappeared, and he appreciates her point that such a thing would not have happened ten years ago. Those desires are replaced instead with a softer thoughts of how to enjoy the day laughing and smiling in her company.
"How about we play a board game while the chicken progresses and then, we can cook together. It's been a while since we did that." He lets go of her to escape to the cupboard in the adjoining living space where he had placed a few of their favourites when they'd arrived yesterday. "Scrabble?" He comes back to the kitchen with the letters already racing around inside the box, clicking against each other and on the side of the box.
"Of course. I always win scrabble." Her lips break into a wide, closed lipped smile and her eyebrows arch. She rubs her hands together as she climbs onto the bar stool of the central island. "You're on Crawley!"
They play in silence for a little while. Each surreptitiously watching the other over the top of cupped hands. Robert was generally pleased with how well he was holding up, usually he was losing by a mile even at this early stage of this game. However when they move in to take their seventh turn he loses all hope as not only does she steal his spot on the board but she lays a 'Z' on a triple scoring square. He grumbles and complains leaving her to only smile and laugh. Now that he has clearly lost he decides that maybe a little conversation may be nice.
"Roz text me this morning," Cora seemed to agree with the plan of conversation, "she said Edward was asking about us but is being very good. She was worried about Sybil, she was struggling with some coursework or something. And to quote your dear sister 'Edith was causing bedlam downstairs moving her stuff' which personally I was pleased to hear. With the wedding in December I was rather hoping she'd fly into action over sorting her stuff."
"Do you think December was a good choice? And New Year's Eve of all days?" Robert's head had been churning that question around for weeks but with Edith in the house a fair amount and Edward a professional at eavesdropping and then reiterating the conversation to whoever he and Cora had been speaking off he'd been wary to mention it.
"If it's what they want then why not? I don't doubt it had much to go with Bertie's job. I know he'd booked a week off in January anyway so he's now going to use that week for honeymoon. Besides Robert, we married in February, hardly traditional." He nods his head at that while laying the word 'piano'—anything to get rid of all the vowels he has. He leans over the board at her, keeping his chin resting on his hands.
"We were never traditional though. I mean what woman falls for a man who even at twenty-two had too much fat on his belly and was hardly a handsome chap." She's giggling softly already. "And when she is drop dead gorgeous and half the men in the office were, and still do, watch her walk it was all very much surprising that she ever agreed to a date with me. Let alone stick with me." She pouts her lips, her eyebrows turning downwards in the middle as her head shakes from side to side.
"You underestimate your appeal. I wasn't the only one who had people watching my every move. Their were plenty of women that would have willingly gone out with you and they probably would have slept with you on the first date." It was odd how she still seemed to berate herself over being such a bad girlfriend that first year but Robert never answered to it. It hadn't bothered him. She was broken and hurt and he had been right not to take advantage. "I think your appeal was physical. It was for me anyway. I can't account for the other women, the size of your wallet may have been more of a factor for them."
"And it wasn't for you?" Her head shakes slowly from side to side, she was well aware he was teasing her slightly, her eyes focused intently on the letters she is trying to form into a word.
"I was a broken woman, in a foreign country. I needed a friend. You reached out without me asking. If you'd been a homeless man I would have been content." It was so odd hearing it like that. He'd seen it play out of course. He'd seen her grow to depend upon him. He'd watched the way she'd come out of her shell to become the bright woman he loved so very much. "I don't think I say thank you enough. You have no idea how black my existence was. Even if we hadn't ended up here. Old and married forever; a house full of children. I hope that you would have kept my world bright for me." He reaches across the table to catch her hand, he holds it there, fingers intertwined.
"I would have. Without a doubt."
"So...how was your weekend?" Cora should have seen that would be the first question. She should also have known that Sophie's eyes would be wide with the statement and she would drag over the word 'so.'
"It was fine. Just as we planned; quiet and relaxing."
"Cora...I know when you're withholding information." She is leaning over the restaurant table, her fingers drumming uncharacteristically. Cora had always wondered if she revelled in these trivial meeting because they were so relaxed compared to the high profile situations she was used to. Everywhere else she went she was watched so closely by cameras and the public. Here she was no royal, she was a normal woman. Yes, people across the cafe still looked, she was recognised and a personal bodyguard still sat three tables away but that was as normal as one could manage when you married a prince.
"I'm not withholding anything. Robert and I had a lovely time. He just surprised me a little regarding a couple of things, in a nice way though. They were good surprises."
"Oh..." Sophie's eyebrows rise suggestively.
"Nothing like that! He just said things that put some worries at rest." Cora can tell that Sophie's eyebrows are raising over the mentions of worries. It was a known fact to Cora that Sophie had always thought of her and Robert's marriage as a model example so for Cora to have any worries was not within Sophie's radar of what she thought of their relationship.
"How's Mary coping? Did anything come of that woman you were worried about who was hanging around with Matthew?" Cora remembers easily the last time she was sat in this cafe, watching Lavinia and Matthew out the window. She'd forgotten she hadn't kept Sophie up-to-date.
"It's a little complicated. She is a nurse. Matthew is actually taking part in a project she's doing on cancer treatment. It's reduced his life expectancy considerably and...Lavinia is in love with him. Poor thing. Mary and her have become very close friends. She's not ready though Sophie. I've seen one daughter lose her love, I've seen my sister-in-law lose her husband and Mary is not ready. And to be honest I think she sits in a worse place than either of the other two people I mentioned because she pretends to be someone she isn't far too much. She's pretending to be all strong rather than admitting it's looming over her and scaring her. Edith and Rosamund both cried it out and grieved obviously. I can see Mary being taken by surprise by those feelings and shutting down completely."
"She'll have lots of support. Lots of understanding people around her." Sophie's curls her hands around hers and Cora tries to smile. But the Matthew thing was getting her down, every time she saw Matthew now he was looking more and more ill and Mary seemed to not seem to notice; she chatted along about all the things they were planning for George that seemed to stretch through the next five years; as if she'd forgotten that he wasn't going to live that long.
"Hello you two." Phyllis leans over to kiss her cheek before shuffling around her to sit down next to her. Joe smiles awkwardly, complete in awe of Sophie.
"Your Royal Highness." He dips his head.
"It's Sophie, Joe, please. I am very pleased to meet you. Phyllis has talked of nothing else." Phyllis blushes suitably and Joe takes his seat opposite her.
"What have we got to discuss?" Phyllis, shrugs her coat off, her eyes darting between the two of them. Cora knew that question was aimed at her, after all, Sophie had no idea why she had called this meeting either. "Actually, we are not all here yet. Ethel is meant to be-"
"I hope I haven't kept you waiting." Ethel rounds the corner, Barrow close at her heels (he immediately slips away to sit with Sophie's bodyguard, no doubt they were friends). Ethel slips off her coat and Cora immediately spies the slight rounding of her stomach.
"Not at all. We can start now you're here." Cora suddenly feels nervous. She hadn't passed any of this with any of them and she was just about to bring up altering three of their lives forever. "I think maybe I've gone about this in the wrong way now that we're all sat here but...really it's about the baby Ethel." The young woman purses her lips and shakes her head.
"If this is you worrying that you forced me into having it I'm not going to sit here and listen. This charity had done me wonders and your advice was sensibly given, I asked for it."
"No that wasn't what I was going to say but thank you for your confidence." Cora fidgets her nails on the table. "You're still planning on adoption?"
"Yes. Certainly. I can't raise the baby myself not after...everything but...well, you know."
"Yes. So...I thought..." her fingers seem to want to stay permanently stuck to the table. Her nails pushing into the non-existent cracks in the wood. "And I'm not pressurising anyone here it's just a suggestion. Ethel, Phyllis can't have children but has always wanted them. She and Joe are on an adoption list at the moment. I thought maybe...maybe you guys could come to some understanding."
There is a long silence in which nobody says anything. Cora's finger splay on the table, she'd made a dreadful mistake. Definitely a mistake.
"I didn't...forget it."
"No." That was Ethel, reaching over to still Cora's fingers. "Maybe Phyllis, Joe and I should chat together. You and Sophie go have some lunch together and gossip. Although, Sophie I meant to say that Barrow can be dispensed with. He's done a fine job-"
"I won't hear of it Ethel. He's yours until the baby is born. Cora says you've a job in Scotland after that?"
"Yes. Yes I have."
"Well you keep him for now. It's important that you're safe. And, um," she glances at Phyllis and Joe, "we will leave you guys to chat." Cora feels her sleeve being pulled as Sophie drags her out the cafe. The footsteps a few feet to their left signify Sophie's bodyguard. Cora notes as she tries to calm her disbelieve that he's a very good looking man. Young, not much older than Mary and very handsome: model handsome.
"Your bodyguard...I'm surprised Edward allows it." Sophie laughs like a girl.
"Cora! What are you suggesting? You're right though, Edward was worried at first over Jimmy, very worried, but he got over it, I just had to pay him extra attention. Besides I have some gossip on the topic. I told Thomas that following his work with Ethel he'd been reassigned to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge." Cora's mouth forms into a small oval. "Yes, quite a step up. Anyway he gave me some lame excuse about not wanting to leave Louise and James and transfer his attention to George and Charlotte but," Sophie leans in closer, "I think he has a partiality for Jimmy."
"No!?" It had been years since Cora had been involved in gossip like this. Since high school back in the US probably. No doubt this was because her life had picked up so soon after leaving school—her parents pushing her at Simon—all that gossipy, girly stuff had gone out the window as she'd been thrown into making very adult decisions.
"Edward and I have always been fully aware Thomas is gay and I mean we've already pointed out the merits of Jimmy!" They laugh together and duck into a different tearooms. "But," Sophie picks up a menu as they take a seat and leans over it, "you haven't finished telling me about your weekend with Robert. What worries were these that he dispelled?"
Cora should have known, or maybe she did subconsciously that Sophie would swing the conversation as soon as she could manage.
"I will tell you, but can we discuss Phyllis and Ethel a second? Did I do the right thing, suggesting what I have?"
"That's why you wanted me to come? To be an overriding authority who was checking your decisions?" Cora nods meekly.
"You are the patron."
"I agree with the decision. I wouldn't have left them if I didn't think it was sensible. Cora, you have a heart of gold. Edward and I would not, nay, we could not, be friends with people that weren't. Think of all the things you could leak to the press! Edward has always looked up to Robert and then he looked up to you. I remember meeting you both for the first time and it told me something really important about Edward, he had decent friends so he must be a good man." Their coffee's arrive and Cora takes a more than generous sip, her mind thinking about how on earth she was going to explain to Sophie about how she and Robert had enjoyed their weekend without telling her any of it. As is often the case, by some kind of miracle a man on a bicycle pulls onto the kerb outside and Cora almost drops her mug in realisation.
"Oh my Sophie. I completely forgot to ask about your cycling. How's the preparation for the challenge* going. My calling a meeting must have dragged you from training isn't it in a fortnight?" Sophie raises her eyebrows and shakes her head.
"You and changing the topic. I hope Robert doesn't have to deal with this! Cycling is going very well but then I'm motivated for it. The Duke of Edinburgh award is such a good charity. You can see exactly what young people get out of it. But yeah, I'm sure I can manage it, I haven't fallen off for a few weeks and all the people on the team are so behind me and nice so...yeah." Their sandwiches arrive, the waitress dawdling by the table her eyes not moving from Sophie.
"I hope your sandwiches are to your liking, erm, your royal highness." Sophie gives the young girl a smile.
"Sssh. I don't want to draw attention. And the sandwiches will be just fine. Thank you." Cora refrains from rolling her eyes. There was a reason Sophie didn't dine publicly and much preferred a sit in dinner for meeting friends. "Anyway, so the cycling. Yes it's fine although I know James is going to miss me something terrible.*"
"And you'll miss him. I don't know if Edward told you that Robert and I have been personally invited by him to meet you at the finish line. Little Edward is coming with us."
"He did tell me. I'd be grateful if you'd have the three of them for dinner one night that I am gone. It will cheer James up and Edward's cooking is not...well, not as good as yours." Cora laughs. She'd attended a dinner, many years ago now, before Sophie had been a part of Edward's life and she could confirm that the Prince was not an excellent cook.
"Goodness of course we will. Louise is growing up so fast I fear she'll be an adult the next time I wake up." Sophie laughs by nods in agreement. "Speaking of which Sybil is causing us a problem at the moment."
"Oh, she's always been such an angel. I know you and Robert were always thankful that she helped pacify Edith and Mary. Is it a teenage thing?"
"No. Well, yes, it's a boy thing."
"Oh." Sophie places her sandwich back on her plate. "And this is Sybil so I'm thinking it's not Mary or Edith who had a boyfriend for ten minutes and then they marched in the door saying it was over." Sophie had always understood her girls very well, no doubt from spending so much time with them.
"That's about the size of it. The problem is he's very traditional. He believes in chastity and Sybil, well, doesn't. He went to Robert the other week to ask for his consent to marry her. A month or so ago she almost eloped with him but I caught her."
"Oh my Cora. Why didn't you say before?"
"I don't know. The issue is Tom, the boyfriend, is a nice guy. He's exactly what Sybil would go for. Added to that his grandfather helped Robert and I get together and his father is the agent at Downton. Robert and I both like him but he has a real attitude the minute you suggest that maybe getting married before Sybil has so much as been to university is not a great plan. He thinks we don't like him and it's not that-"
"It might all sort itself. Young love can be fickle." Cora wasn't convinced on that score. When they had told Sybil how Tom had confronted Robert she'd been happy that he was standing up for his beliefs. She said it showed a good grounding. She had conceded that she was trying to persuade him to be more flexible with his opinions but that she wasn't 'going to dump him for it.'
She's about to explain to Sophie when her phone buzzes. A text from Phyllis.
Didn't want to call and interrupt your lunch. Joe, Ethel and I have come to an understanding and we are going to have the baby. Filling out the forms this weekend. Thank you so much for thinking of it. Xx
She shows Sophie who only smiles, the last corner of her sandwich disappearing in a large bite.
"That's excellent news. Now I'm sorry to say I ought to go. I've got some cycling to do and the kids have to picked up from school at half three." She stands. "But don't think I'm not going to keep snooping about your weekend. I'll get Edward onto Robert." She hugs her and kisses her cheek before flying from the cafe, Jimmy close at her heels.
Cora can't think for half a second. Today was a whirlwind. Her thought jumping from one child to the next. From charity to home life. She needed some fixed point. She takes her phone out and sends a quick text to Robert—maybe he had a free hour today. She gets a text straight back.
Meet you in the tea rooms around the corner from the office in the next twenty?
She smiles to herself as her phone bleeps again with the kisses and heart he'd left off the last. He was adorable sometimes.
Crossing London in the middle of the lunch hour was never a good choice. Men in suits and women in dresses clutch coffee in one hand a pack of sandwiches in the other. Someone inevitably gets something down their front and then has to wrestle in their bag for a napkin while somebody else tries to push passed to get off the train. With no such mishaps herself she makes it to the cafe only to find Robert already waiting, a bunch of flowers laid on the table in front of him. Her mind slips effortlessly back to another such occasion but she brushes it away. That other occasion had been the day before their whole world had once again done a somersault. She could only hope this day wouldn't prove to be the same.
The steps are uneven and wet. Dewy droplets sticking to the stone and trickling slowly towards the canal beneath. The gondola wobbles as she tries to place her first foot up onto the wet stone. The gondolier holds her hand firmly and she can feel Robert's hand supporting her back.
Before she can so much as attain an upright position a waitress is welcoming her with a strong Italian accent and exclaiming over the youthful look of the Countess of Grantham. She knew Robert had booked them a beautiful lunch, how could it surprise her when the whole day had this far been meticulously planned?
Robert fingers stay stuck to her back, and where each digit shifts the fabric of her top she feels her skin warm in something far nearer desire than she had felt in months. The waitress is chattering away but Cora hears none of it, her eyes taking in the sheer height of the building and the luxurious wooden panelling that lined every wall. Large framed portraits of visitors and owners lined the walls. There were stunning landscapes of the city. Although the chandeliers were all glittering with coloured glass this was no modern hotel, all was traditional. The very essence, the smell, reminded her of Downton; the staff were all smartly dressed and she realised why Robert had persisted she wore a classy summer dress today.
They get shown right through the foyer and into the dining area. The stunning decor continues. All the tables are laid with sparkling silver and bold flower arrangements. But still they did not sit, despite walking passed numerous empty tables.
Walking through a doorway at the back of the room Cora finds herself stepping out onto a balcony, a small circular table, with ornate legs that stretch out from a central column, is laid for two. Upon the table was not a grand display of flowers like on the other table but just a singular rose. On one of the chairs however lays a wrapped bunch of red and white roses. Robert pulls out that chair for her and passes her the flowers. He doesn't speak and for that she is grateful, she would have to reply and at this exact moment she can not think of anything that she might say. He was being altogether far too forgiving of how badly she had treated him about the whole Robin situation.
Instead she turns her gaze to the view right across the grand canal. She watches the gondoliers negotiate the swelling waters brought about by the larger yachts and boats that race passed. Bringing her eyes in closer she admires the curves of the balcony railing as she tucks her roses by her feet.
The waitress reappears with champagne and Cora finally looks at him. His smile is wide which only makes her own widen. She places her hand, palm up, on the table before them. He takes it readily between both his hands.
"You were very cunning to plan all of this." He chuckles ever so softly, his gaze fixing on their joined hands rather then her face.
"Not cunning. I think I would prefer thoughtful." She pushes her thumb over the firm skin above his own.
"Yes sorry. Thoughtful and romantic I think."
"You do?" His eyes genuinely light up before her and she shakes her head.
"Of course I do Robert. What woman would not find her husband booking a table at a fancy restaurant, a special table with a wonderful view no less,and buying her roses not romantic?"
"I'm pleased that you're happy." She bends her arm, pulling his hand towards her.
"Robert, I thought we discussed this only yesterday, the gloom is lifting and I want you and I to have our marriage back. Properly. I am perfectly happy and you have made me so. I still sense that you think we are on a knife's edge; we are not. You are still looking at me as though I might burst at any moment. That won't happen." She releases his hand to pick up he menu laid in front of her.
She peruses it quickly, only needing to see a few words to know her selection. The waitress takes their order and is gone again. They sit watching the boats race by, holding each other's hands in the centre of the table. They each make passes over the others fingers and palm but neither say a word.
The starter and main come and go with little talk, they hold each other at every available opportunity and feed each other spoonfuls of their dishes; laughing when something slips onto the table or their laps.
When the desert comes Cora decides she needs to go back to reassuring him. She was ready now, but it appeared he wasn't as ready as she'd been assuming. He panicked far too much about upsetting her.
"We would have loved him Robert. We did love him. He's watching us; I know he is. And I know he wants me to go back to being a good mother and a decent wife so that we might be blessed with more children to love."
"I know all that Cora. It's you I worry over. Whether you're definitely ready for this and-"
"Robert, when we first went out and I told you about my past and you said I had the first say in everything. You're equally worried for me now, so let me have my first say; I'm ready." He nods in silent understanding and putting down his spoon takes her hand to his mouth and kisses around her wrist and down onto her palm.
She reluctantly pulls her hand away as her phone bleeps in her bag. Hopefully this was the message she had been awaiting. She flicks open the message from Elsie Hughes, a woman she had come to rely on as much as Robert.
What you asked for shall be delivered to you may moment. I hope the lunch was to your liking.
Cora frowns and as quickly dissolves into laughter.
"Robert did you ask Elsie to help you sort today?" He blushes scarlet at which she only laughs more heartily. "I asked her for some help too. And it seems she has linked your plans with my plans." Cora chuckles softly just as the waitress appears not just to take their plates but to had Cora a key.
"A believe this is yours for the afternoon?" Attached to the loop that also holds the key is a key ring with the number sixteen embossed (she assumes that was not Elsie's doing but mere coincidence, either way she thinks it bodes well). She looks up to see Robert watching her quizzically, his face still tinged slightly pink. "I asked Elsie to arrange a private afternoon for us in the city. It seems she managed to find a room at the very hotel you had selected for lunch."
She stands from the table, carefully picking up her flowers. Robert takes her hand and she turns one last time to look at the gorgeous view before they step inside.
They get escorted up the grand staircase that twisted like the one at Downton but was enclosed not by fancy wooden handrails but metal ones that swirl into a cascade of patterns between the rail and the step. The carpet beneath their feet is a rich blue rather than he bright red. Robert's hand doesn't release hers, which is a comfort—at least in the sense that he finally seemed to have believed her.
Room sixteen is pointed out for them and Cora slips the key into the lock, her hand still clutched in his. When the door falls open she walks in, pulling him gently along behind her, their clasped hands dancing on the base of her spine.
The room is spacious and large but none of the paintings or the furniture capture her attention. All she see is the large bed, much larger than the one in the cabin onboard. It had a ornate wooden headrest and a thin duvet covered in a rich blood red cover. Cora could see that Elsie had been at work over the telephone. Champagne and yet more roses lay on one of the bedside tables while some white petals had been scattered on the red linen. She's about to turn to Robert when he surprises her.
His hand releases hers and curves around her waist without hesitation. The other hand glides down her arm, leaving goose bumps in its wake before prizing the bundle of flowers and her handbag from her grasp. They get placed on the stool at the foot of the bed, close enough that he doesn't move his hand from her waist.
She feels his body move closer to her own, the thin layer of her dress easily allowing for the sensation of his rougher short fabric to be felt on her hip. His breath tickles down her neck and onto the skin beneath the collar of her dress. Her neck falls back unasked and a small sigh vibrates from between her lips. His shoulder is hard but that comforts her if anything, it had been so long since her head had rested here.
His warmth is now far nearer her exposed neck. Her pulse pounds and she wonders if he can see it rushing through her arteries. She doesn't dare open her eyes and look up to him not when his nose is grazing down her cheek and then along her jaw while one of his hand's makes short work of unzipping the back of her dress before slipping inside.
She shudders, and it certainly wasn't from the cold. Each of his digits is warm and firm as it strokes over her shoulder blades and then shifts beneath the strap of her bra, smoothing the warm skin before toying with the clasp. He goes about it agonisingly slowly, unclipping one of the two hooks and then proceeding to rub her lower back, ignoring the beckoning of the second.
In the meantime his lips replace his nose on her neck and start a gentle decent to her collarbone and shoulder. He is gentle at first but when he reaches the spot Cora can feel her pulse most heightened he swirls the tip of his wet tongue making her shiver again. He crawls back up to her ear, and nibbles the lobe before he continues the decent.
His hand finally prizes her bra apart and as his lips touch her shoulder and begin to push her dress aside his hand reaches up to help, pushing her bra away as well. She shifts it down her arm for him without thought, her brain far too occupied with the sliding of his hand around her side to the underside of her one exposed breast.
He keeps peppering kisses to her neck as he gently toys with the soft, fleshy skin. She tries to focus on taking her breaths gently in and out again but each time one of his fingers strays anywhere near her nipple she stops in anticipation, only for him to move his hand with a blow of air (that is definitely a chuckle) to her neck.
His other hand eventually unwraps from her waist and pushes her dress and bra from her other shoulder. A slight movement of his body means both fall to the floor.
"You seem decidedly over dressed darling."
"Just wait a minute Cora. Please, I want to love you first." His hands graze over her nipples again, one on each this time and she can't even coherently shake her head let alone agree to his words. She only feels his fingers as they push and flick her nipple until it hardens. She knows she murmurs softly, her lips going dry as they stay in a permanently parted position.
One hand stops it's attentions and she murmurs his name, wanting the feeling back again. He tells her to wait and she briefly wonders if he thought she was asking about him removing his clothes—she had forgotten about that request. She doesn't have time to quiz him becomes his hand drops lower, to the elastic of her knickers. She expects him to remove them but instead his fingers stretch lower, inching their way along the thin layer of slippery polyester to the trimmings, and then lower still.
His finger presses there, teasing her through the fabric and then it presses again, with another joining it. She forgets how to support herself, all thoughts focused on the slow rhythm—too slow—her body leans back into his as her feet give way.
She feels him then, the strain of his trousers against her hip and lower back. She tries to turn to him but his arms and her own body's argument for staying put, and keeping his fingers swirling by her growing dampness, are all too appealing.
She knows in the back of her mind he's dragging this out for her, it certainly wasn't comfortable for him. She knows he's also teasing her; his fingers obstructed by her underwear from going where she wants them.
"Robert...please..." He releases his hold on her but only to place his hands on her waist, she is sure from fear of her falling over.
"Stay still." The stopping of his ministrations makes the bundle in the centre of her body flex with confusion and fall deflated somewhere around her stomach. The unanswered pulsing between her thighs feels like a full ache and makes her twitch. She can sense him moving around her and a second later he sits on the bed; still clothed. She reaches for his shirt but one hand catches her wrist. "Not yet." She about to complain like a petulant child but his hand strokes over her knickers again while his other hand tugs her nearer as he calmly pulls them from her waist and they she flicks them, and her shoes off her feet. "Sit on my lap." She doesn't need any persuasion, not with one of his thumbs loitering high on her thigh, grazing a wiry curl.
She kneels with her waist straddled over him. She places one hand on his shoulder but pushes the other down his shirt front to his shorts. She's about to press her hand to him but he takes her wrist and moves it to his shirt.
"Take my top off by all means Cora, but don't tempt me, not yet." She pulls it up over his head and he slips his arms free. The second it falls to the bed behind them his fingers sneak inside her moistness. She moans in a fashion she knows is not at all ladylike. His lips capture hers and despite her previous fascination with unclothing him, all she can think about is wrapping her arms around his neck and pushing her hands into his hair; letting her tongue explore all the places in his mouth she hadn't felt for months. She lets her instincts carry her, lifting herself onto her haunches and working in the opposite direction to his fingers.
When she feels her resolve slipping and her body beginning to shake she slows a little and lets him take her the rest of the way. She focuses instead on his lips, on showing him just how much she loves him; wants him. His moans are soft and gentle into her mouth which makes her flutter with more desire. He flicks her nipple with his free hand resulting in her undoing. She emits a heavy breath into his mouth before her lips fall from his, her sticky forehead meeting his.
"That was...very beautiful." She drops a kiss to his lips before brushing her hand over his torso. "But, we ought to sort you out." Her hand reaches the front of his shorts and she easily unfastens them. He holds her waist to stop her falling off the bed but watches her hands move, the top of his head pressed to her forehead. She blushes, something she hadn't done in a long time when being intimate with Robert (it was natural after all) when he twitches at her soft touch as she parts his boxer front.
"Cora-" his voice is strained- "let me take my clothes off. It will be quicker and," her finger nudges him and she feels him harden again, "easier." He kisses her nose and then her cheek. She stands allowing him to move.
She lays herself on the bed, watching him. Admiring him. She wonders how she'd managed to sleep beside him all these months and not think about how handsome he is. His new gym membership was obviously being used if the more supple toning of his chest and arms was to be believed. She was pleased as exercise was something she worried about him getting with his office job. The fact it made him more appealing bothered her less, she'd always found him attractive.
He's beside her in no time. His hand pushing into her hair and rolling her to lie atop him. She was pleased, they both liked it better this way. His tongue finds her mouth with no difficulty, his hands separate: one to her back, the other to her breast. The one on her back sets a shivering path down her back, rubbing with some vigour done the dip of her spine. His thumb follows the crease of her bottom and she has to part their lips to catch her breath. His other hand leaves her breast alone to touch her opening gently, it doesn't last a second—she's well aware he's checking she's ready.
"Cora-" his voice is gruff by her ear and his eyes ask the silent question that hangs as thickly as their sweat around them. She adjusts herself above him, cutting him off. Her hands splay into the pillows behind his head.
He grazes at her opening at which she hums in contentment, Robert grunts his hands trying to coax her thighs down onto his own. She resists before lowering herself slowly down his length.
She finds herself murmuring as he slowly fills her. The feeling of being his once more was more pleasing than she had anticipated it being. To feel so completely whole again, to have her own desires at the forefront of her mind was wonderful.
His groans and moans of pleasure are definitely more base than her feelings of satisfaction but she can't complain, not when she'd made him wait this long.
She knows her body finds the satisfaction that Robert is so openly moaning about if the stickiness that was beginning to trickle onto her inner thigh was anything to reason with.
He is warm and hard so she sets a rhythm she hopes will bring her with him. She alternates between a series of fast thrusts before drawing two out which always annoyed him but made her moan in satisfaction. He takes it the first time, only muttering her name in annoyance which only proves to arouse her more. When she slows the second time his mouth bites at her collarbone before he presses a series of kisses along her breast and then takes her nipple in his mouth. The nip of his teeth and the slash of his tongue make her groan and losing all coherent thought and control of herself he rolls them over.
She wraps her legs around him and finds that, despite his being deep inside her before, he was now catching that spot where she was burning hottest on every thrust. His thumb accosts her nipple while the other hand balances him above her. She finds satisfaction in trailing her nails slowly down his chest, etching the shape of every rib as the heat within her builds to that level which she knows brings nothing but pure satisfaction.
She expects him to come first, how could he not when he felt so stiff inside of her, so completely consuming and finding her special place every time. It's with some surprise, but complete satisfaction that she cries out a succession of guttural moans before his name as she feels the heat explode into a complete fire, her thighs becoming a little wetter.
She opens her eyes to Robert's release. His arousal finally stiffening completely, although to Cora she felt it had been so close for so very long, and his body mixing with hers.
She had thought she'd think of Robin in this moment and indeed, his face, his tiny face, flashes across her mind for a millisecond but then it is gone. Her mind filled instead by the present. By Robert peppering kisses across her chest and her neck as he rolls them to lie facing each other, still joined. He proceeds to kiss her nose, her cheeks and her mouth over and over again.
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't come." He murmurs the words gently in the hot air between them when her breathing is still trying to remember what resting is. His strained expression and her wondering at his release not coming before hers suddenly makes sense.
"Were you waiting for me? Is that what your face was so creased up in concentration?"
"I was determined I would feel your release while I was still hard Cora. Not only is it better that way but this time, today, I needed that." His blush serves to make her laugh.
"Is that a polite way of you telling me you wanted to be reminded exactly what it felt like to sleep with me?" She raises her eyebrow at him and he shakes his head.
"Don't tease me Cora. I don't hold anything against you. I might be your husband but that doesn't mean I have a right to you when you don't want it. You haven't and now you do and that pleases me very much."
"Umm, you are just a man after all." He leans forward to tilt her face to his.
"Yes, a man very much in love with his beautiful wife." She blushes but he misses it, his lips descending on her own.
* I don't know how many of you are aware but HRH Countess of Wessex (Sophie) undertook a diamond challenge for the Duke of Edinburgh's award 60th birthday this year. She cycled from Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh to Buckingham Palace. it was a marvellous story, and she created a blog every day that can be read at .uk. Her involvement has been so strong not just because she believes in the charity but because when the title (Duke of Edinburgh) reverts from the crown it is to be Prince Edward's, making her the Duchess of Edinburgh (as the Queen was upon her marriage until her being Queen) and they will be continuing the award in Prince Philip's honour. It is a very well respected award here in the UK.
*There are many pictures available online which show Sophie arriving at the palace. In many of these James is clinging to her waist, refusing to let go, hence my note here about her worrying about him. She must have known he was to miss her.
I hope you enjoyed this, please leave a review.