Cora woke with a start and looked around the room as the first rays of dawn gave the room a very little light. She rolled over carefully and watched her husband sleep. He was so handsome and peaceful lying there beside her. She ran her fingers lightly through his hair and smiled when he murmured her name. It was a far cry from her nightmare. They had been walking together in London when Robert suddenly pulled away from her and disappeared into the crowd. She'd tried to rush after him, but him moved too quickly and she couldn't keep up. She'd been calling him and begging him to wait for her, but he was gone and she was alone. She couldn't find her way back to the family's London home and she was left wandering alone among increasingly malicious looking people. She'd woken up with a yell when she felt someone put their hand on her hip but it turned out to have been Robert's hand brushing against her as they slept. "Most shapely bottom in Britain," he muttered half asleep as he grabbed her roughly. He was more dexterous than she'd thought a partially sleeping man could be because he managed to pinch her bottom in his semiconscious state - not all that hard, but hard enough to make Cora jump. Now not only was she wide awake, but she was also nervous that he might pinch her again. With a sigh, she gave up on sleeping in her own bed for a while. She managed to pull a sheet off of the bed as she slipped out of it. She wrapped the sheet around her bare body and, after kissing Robert lovingly on the forehead in spite of his grabby hands, she crept into his dressing room. There was no reason to risk waking him when he was sleeping so blissfully just because of her silly dream. She really didn't want to think about the conversation the discussion of that dream would produce. It certainly wasn't the way she wanted to begin her day. She climbed into Robert's bed and spent the next hour or so tossing and turning until she finally fell back to sleep.
As the morning continued, the house began to come to life. The Christmas tree was arriving before breakfast and the downstairs was buzzing. Getting a twelve foot pine indoors and in its place without endangering any of the family's fine possessions was a tricky business best accomplished before the lady of the house was up and about. Carson stepped back surveying the tree's final placement with a satisfied sigh and an approving nod when Watson, Lord Downton's valet, rushed over to him looking quite disheveled. The tree had not been kind to him. He was covered in pine needles and the hem of his right sleeve had been torn loose in an altercation with an unruly branch. It was time to wake the young lord, but Watson was not fit for service given his appearance. Carson sent him downstairs to mend his sleeve and get the pine needles out of his hair and then went up to wake the Viscount.
He knocked lightly on the dressing room door before entering where he was surprised to see the bed occupied. After bringing a bottle of champagne up to the young couple who were in their nightclothes at the time, he had expected that they would be together. He drew back the curtains and the room was suddenly filled with sunlight. "Good morning, My… Oh, good heavens! My Lady!" the butler gasped. His usual stern, professional expression melted into complete shock and he literally jumped back at the sight of the Viscountess sleeping alone in her husband's bed. She rolled over clutching the blankets. This uncovered her back and a bit of her bottom making Carson inhale sharply as he realized that the young Lady Downton was unclothed under the blankets. He froze expecting the woman's husband to come in and suspect him of having some sort of prurient interest in his very beautiful, sweet, sleeping wife. He was about to rush out of the room when he noticed her shiver. It was winter after all and, with no one to snuggle up to, it was no surprise that she was cold with her back exposed like that. He approached the bed as quietly as possible and began carefully readjusting the bedding to cover her more fully. As he worked, the back of his hand brushed against her silky skin often and each time it sent a tingle through his body. He took a deep breath while trying to control his body reaction to the situation as best as could be expected and reflecting on the fact that, if he had such an exquisitely lovely, attentive, charming woman lying naked in his bed, he certainly wouldn't leave her there by herself. He fussed with the bed linens and his finger tips skimmed across her bottom as he arranged the bedding over her. She wiggled her bottom. His palm grazed her breast. She gave a soft sigh. He swallowed hard and finished covering her up quickly before temptation got the better of him.
Emily had been a few steps behind Carson as he went up the stairs. She was still a little uncomfortable waking Lord and Lady Downton together so when the butler didn't leave the dressing room immediately she gave a small sigh of relief at the fact that at least she wouldn't catch them tumbling around together before the day had even begun. She knocked softly before entering the room. The curtains had never been closed the night before so the room was already light. When the time had come to do that the young couple were already in the room together and the maid hadn't wanted to be seen as intruding. She straightened the curtains anyway and turned toward the bed where she was stunned to find that it was the young Lord and not his lady stirring in the bed. He rolled onto his back abandoning most of the covers. Though her position as a maid meant she had little interaction with him, she'd always found Lord Grantham's heir to be a friendly, kind-hearted man… and quite handsome as well. During the five years she had been in the Crawley's employ, she had taken secret delight in catching a glimpse of Lord Downton here and there throughout her day. They were actually the same age and, had she been born into the aristocracy, she hoped that she might have been the woman he'd married. She would never have treated him as badly as that Beaumont girl had or as his wife seemed to be now by leaving him there all alone. He stretched in his sleep and the maid let her eyes survey the young man's body. He wasn't exactly muscular, but Emily thought he was perfect as her gaze worked slowly up his bare leg.
As her eyes came to the corner of bed sheet that was tucked beneath him that was the only thing protecting his modesty - and just barely - she found herself wanting to lift it off of him and see if what it concealed was worth whatever extraordinary sum his American bride had brought to the house in exchange for the title of viscountess. For whatever little it was worth, Emily did not particularly like Cora. She saw her as childish, spoiled, wholly unsuited for the position she'd purchased, and entirely unworthy of the Crawley's only son. She had to stifle a giggle when she thought about the way she was leering at the man that silly American hoped might be drawn to her foreign wiles eventually. Emily wished he'd remain indifferent to her irritating young mistress. She saw it as a sign of his intelligence and good taste. Her stare wandered over his chest and shoulders and neck. His firm jaw. His lips which she would love to kiss. The peaceful expression on his face. His tousled, curly hair. After a quick look over her shoulder, she walked over to the bed and gently ran her finger through Robert's hair. She gasped as he pressed his cheek against her hand. "Cora, my love," he murmured. Emily sighed and shook her head. So much for intelligence and good taste. She picked up the breakfast tray with the dishes from the couple's late dessert on it and the empty champagne bottle off the floor by the bed and started toward the door when she heard an attractive, drowsy voice call her name. She turned to him, suddenly very shy now that he was awake and addressing her. She hadn't thought he knew her name. "Emily, do you know where my lovely wife is?" he asked with a yawn.
"No, M'lord, she was gone when I came to wake her." the maid answered trying not to stare at the undressed Viscount. She turned to go, but he called her back.
His aristocratic formality had disappeared. "Emily, I have a problem and I think you might be the only one who can help me solve it," he said.
Emily blushed. "Yes, M'lord," she squeaked.
"I'm desperate to make my wife happy - really happy - on her first Christmas here. I'd like to give her something she'll love, but I have to admit, I don't have the slightest clue what that would be. You spend a good deal of time with her. Do you have any suggestions? Is there anything that makes her come to mind?"
Emily shook her head. "I can't think of anything," she said with genuine disappointment. It would've been nice to make him smile, "… just that song she hums." She didn't think that was anything but Robert looked very pleased indeed.
"That's it!" Robert said with glee. "The song. It's by Schubert. I think it's called Ständchen. My German is not what it ought to be, but I'm sure it's a song about love. Emily, you're wonderful. Thank you!"
The maid felt her cheeks warm as she blushed. "You're welcome, M'lord. I'm happy to help,"she whispered shyly. She rushed to leave and made her way downstairs with a big smile on her face thinking of how handsome Robert was wrapped in bed sheet and wearing nothing but that wonderful smile of his.
Meanwhile, next door Carson had gotten to work setting out the young lord's clothes so they'd be ready whenever he happened to appear and trying not to think about that young lord's beautiful wife who was sleeping in the bed behind him without a stitch of clothing on. He knew it wasn't his place to have thoughts like these, of course, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl. All she wanted was a little love and it always seemed to be eluding her. If he were worthy of someone like her, he would never leave her in doubt of the way he felt about her. He heard her sigh and was about to leave the room to let her sleep in peace when he noticed fingerprints on the glass case that housed the Viscount's snuff box collection. The butler couldn't let that stand. He took a cloth out of his pocket and buffed the glass until it gleamed. Just as he finished, a gentle voice cooed to him. "Good morning, Carson." He looked over his shoulder to see the Viscountess smiling up at him.
"Good morning, My lady," he said as professionally as was possible "I hope I didn't disturb you. It was quite a surprise to find you here."
"I can imagine it was," Cora giggled. "I had a nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep. I didn't want to bother the Viscount, so I came in here," she said looking away from him almost ashamed.
"I see," Carson replied. He thought, but didn't add, that comforting the lovely Viscountess didn't sound like it wouldn't be all that much of a bother to any sensible man.
It took her a moment, but she shook off her melancholy. "Are you settling in well?" she asked seeming to be genuinely concerned.
"Yes, quite well, I think." His reply appeared to please her as if she'd actually given a thought to his situation. He knew he should leave before her charm made him say something he shouldn't. "Is their anything I can do for you, My lady, or shall I let you rest?" he asked expecting her dismiss him and initially she did but she called him back just as he reached the door. He turned to find her wrapped haphazardly in a sheet and sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked like a Grecian goddess - breathtaking, at least as far as he was concerned.
"Carson," she said fidgeting uncomfortably and that twinge of sadness returned to her voice, "… I need your honest opinion on something and it's imperative that I have your discretion as well." The butler nodded and Cora took a deep breath before continuing.
She looked up at the butler. "I'll do what I can, My Lady," he said hoping he could put to rest whatever was bothering her.
"Is there anything about me that a man would find… unappealing? That Lord Downton, in particular, might find unappealing?" she asked softly.
"What?" Carson stammered. "My Lady I can't… err… I shouldn't…" Cora was just beginning to tell him that it had been a foolish question and not to bother with it when she shifted and the sheet wrapped around her came loose. It slide down over her breasts and into her lap. He leapt away from her and covered his eyes as she screamed and quickly dove under the covers. She apologized over and over and he knew this was not the kind of reaction that would improve her confidence. The flustered butler was about to try to offer some sort of encouraging words when the door that connected the dressing room flew open and Robert, clad in pajama bottoms that were inside out, rushed to Cora's side.
"What's going on? What's the meaning of this?" Robert boomed as he sneered at Carson and he took his wife into his arms protectively. He held her tightly and pressed a kiss against her forehead, but there was rage in his eyes and they were locked on his butler.
Cora snuggled into his shoulder and Robert struggled to maintain his fury while his attention was wandering to the way Cora's breath felt on his collarbone and the flutter of her eyelashes against his throat. "I had a nightmare. I screamed when I woke up and scared poor Carson half to death," Cora told her husband. "I'm sorry, Carson. I never intended to unsettle you like that," she said with a sad look.
"That's quite alright, My Lady, you have nothing to be a ashamed of," Carson said. He gave her a knowing smile hoping she would know that he was trying his best to answer her original question. "Nothing at all."
"Thank you, Carson," she said happily. She'd picked up on his hidden message.
"Yes. Thank you, Carson, that will be all," Robert said still annoyed. He was also quite ready to be alone with his wife who he'd just realized was still naked.
After the butler left the room, Robert got up and tucked the bed sheet Cora was wrapped in more securely around her before picking her up and carrying her to her bed. "Why did you go in there in the first place Cora?" he asked as he laid her on the bed and then climbed in beside her after hastily tugging off his pajama bottoms. "Was I crowding you?" he teased as he held her tight.
"In a way," she replied with a smile. "You pinched my bottom."
Robert released his hold on her feigning disbelief. "I would never do such a thing. Are you sure?" He was kidding, but sometimes his wry sense of humor didn't register with his American wife.
"I know a pinch when I feel one, Robert!" Cora said testily. "You mumbled something in your sleep. Something about 'most shapely bottom in Britain,' and then you pinched me." She turned away from him as she kept talking. It was an invitation, unintentional though it might have been, that Robert couldn't pass up and he couldn't hide his wicked smile as he snuck his hand under the covers. Meanwhile, Cora was explaining why she'd moved to the dressing room. "I was fully awake and I didn't want to risk waking you, so I… Ouch!" she squealed and jumped as Robert pinched her bottom again. "Robert, no! Stop!" she cried as he groped and grabbed her.
He pulled her close and, when she stopped squirming, she found her face about an inch from that of her smiling husband. "I'm glad to have you back here with me... where you belong."
Cora smiled sweetly. "I was surprised to see you rush in and gather me up in your arms like that and then carry me to the bedroom. You were so protective. I can't help but wonder what I've done to earn such loving treatment,"she said letting her fingers trail down his neck and chest.
"I'm very protective of the one whom I adore, who puts up with my nonsense, and who my life would be incomplete without." Robert was doing his best to sweep his wife off her feet and, from the glowing smile on her face, he seemed to be doing a good job of it. "I woke up missing you, my lovely angel. Promise me you won't go wandering off alone again." Before she could answer he captured her lips in a kiss. They began their last quiet day before their guests arrived trying to quell the doubt and insecurity one of those guests had already already put between them.