Leaves her desires at the welcome mat
When she walks in
I know a boy
Who likes to keep his burner on
•June 28, 1925•
Dower House
11:10 AM
Spratt opened the door to Her Ladyship's drawing room with Lady Rosamund Painswick at his heels.
"Robert didn't tell me you were coming up this week," Violet said after Rosamund gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"That's because I didn't tell him," Rosamund replied as she sat down, smoothing her skirts as she did so. "I wanted to surprise you." At this, her mother raised a brow.
"But you've always hated surprises." Violet retorted flatly to which Rosamund rolled her eyes. "Now, what did you come here for?" She asked her daughter, clearly not in the mood to beat around the bush and Rosamund hesitated. Something Violet caught.
"Rosamund, I am your mother not the town sheriff." Violet snapped impatiently. "You almost never come up here unannounced, so you might as well tell me now," the Dowager pressed. Rosamund stared at her mother blankly, refusing to give in to her wishes. Not yet, at least.
Spratt came in once again, this time carrying a tea tray with him. Rosamund smiled at the butler gratefully as he handed her the a teacup and saucer. As they sipped their tea, Violet looked at her daughter expectantly. Rosamund sighed, there was no point withholding the information is was going to reveal anyway.
"About a month ago, there was this man that knocked on my door..." She began, and Violet placed her tea down, listening intently. "He had a strong accent, and he looked so familiar." Rosamund continued, and her mother raised a brow.
"You took the train from London to Yorkshire to tell me about a foreigner that came knocking on your door one day?" She questioned her daughter, her voice flattening after each word she spoke. Rosamund nodded urgently and Violet shook her head.
"My dear, the man is a foreigner. They are different from the English, maybe he was just caroling." Violet offered, and the younger woman looked at her mother as if she were a foreigner as well.
"Caroling?" Rosamund asked in disbelief. "Of all things you could think of, caroling is the first thing that comes to mind with you, Mama?" She repeated, laughter bubbling in her throat. Violet glared half-heartedly at her daughter, who had dissolved into a fit of giggles. The Dowager allowed herself a small smile at her daughter's amusement, even though it was at her expense.
As Rosamund's laughs softened, Violet looked at her expectantly.
"Caroling," Rosamund murmured to herself, shaking her head lightly. "Oh, that's brilliant," she told herself softly.
"Are you quite finished?" Violet snapped, drawing Rosamund away from her thoughts which were quite amusing. Her daughter nodded calmly, however her face was still split in an obnoxious grin. She ignored this fact and met Rosamund's eyes.
"What was so special about this man?" The Countess asked her daughter, who bit her lip before forming a coherent response.
"He was looking for Isobel," she told Violet tentatively, trying to ease her mother into the conversation she and the man had the month before. At this, Violet narrowed her eyes.
"Isobel? As in, Isobel Grey?" She asked for confirmation. Rosamund nodded her affirmation. "Whoever this is, what would he want with her?"
"Actually, he was looking for Isobel Crawley," Rosamund added, a helpful addition or not, it made his request for the Lady Merton make a little more sense. "I asked him how he knew her," Rosamund inhaled quickly.
Here we go.
"He said they met through you," she looked pointedly at her mother. "That you met fifty years ago, but grew apart." Violet looked away from the view of the gardens, shooting a glare in her daughter's direction.
"He said what?" Violet ground out through (slightly) gritted teeth.
"That the two of you knew each other some fifty years ago," Rosamund repeated, not seeing the problem. It was no fault of hers, really. By god, Violet wasn't even sure Rosamund knew she and Patrick were in Russia at all, had it not been for Rose's tea party for the refugees. "I didn't think much of it," her daughter continued. "You have lived a long life and you traveled with Papa when Robert and I were still children. It all added up to me." Rosamund paused her rambling when she realized her mother had not said a word.
"Mama? Mama, are you alright?" Rosamund called gently, snapping Violet from her reverie.
"Yes, yes." Violet replied distractedly. "You were saying?"
Rosamund looked at her mother disbelievingly, but quickly shrugged the feeling off.
"Judging from his accent he was Russian," Violet's grip on her cane had loosened considerably, causing it to clatter on the floor. Rosamund jumped at the sound it made when it hit the hardwood.
How dare he! If Rosamund was speaking about the person Violet thought she was speaking of... the nerve of that man! Going to her daughter's home and asking for Isobel. Had he no shame?
"Mama!" She exclaimed. "Are you sure you're alright?" Ignoring her daughter's question, Violet spoke with a newfound urgency.
"Did he give you his name?" She asked, her voice bordering on hysterical. Rosamund looked at Violet, confusion and desperation clouding her sharp features. "Rosamund, answer me." Violet demanded evenly, her voice much calmer than it was mere seconds ago but the hysteria was definitely still present.
"He did," she answered quietly. "Igor Kuragin," Rosamund recalled and Violet's breath hitched.
The Dowager closed her eyes and breathed deeply, an attempt to recollect herself after the very minor slip of her cool façade.
"Is the name not familiar to you?" Violet asked her daughter after a breath. Rosamund shrugged carelessly as she rucked her mind as to where she had heard the man's name before they had formally met that May.
"St Petersburg. 1874," Violet added and Rosamund's eyes widened.
"The Prince," she breathed and her mother nodded in confirmation. "He was here in Yorkshire, that's why he came here. To pursue you once again?" Once more, Violet nodded. "Well, where is he now?"
"Cavenham Park," Violet answered nonchalantly and Rosamund felt her eyes bug out.
"You don't mean..."
"As a matter of fact I do," Violet responded, a twinge of bitterness in her voice.
"So he's been staying with Isobel and Dickie all this time?" Rosamund asked her mother, feeling rather scandalized on her mother's behalf. "Why haven't they sent him away?"
The Dowager Countess sighed tiredly.
"Isobel and Dickie are both very kind souls. Neither of them would have the heart kick Igor out of Cavenham." Rosamund looked down at her fingers as Violet spoke. Finally, she asked her mother the question that had been nagging at her for the past minute.
"Are you comfortable with Igor being so close to you?"
And for once, Violet's mind had drawn a blank.
•June 28, 1925•
Library, Downton Abbey
5:45 PM
"Rosamund! What a pleasant surprise," he smiled at his younger sister, kissing her cheek briefly and Cora rose to do the same. "Are you staying for a while?" And Rosamund nodded sheepishly.
"I'm very sorry for not letting you know beforehand. I was going to go back to London tonight but I think I've missed the last train." Cora shook her head.
"There's no need to apologize," she told Rosamund with a smile as she rang for Mrs Hughes. The Scottish housekeeper entered the library, looking up at the three expectantly.
"You called, Your Ladyship?" she asked respectfully. The Lady Grantham smiled appreciatively, nodding.
"Mrs Hughes, would you please set a room up for Lady Rosamund." She requested and the Scotswoman bowed slightly, signaling she would have it done right away. "Thank you," Cora smiled as the Housekeeper left the library swiftly.
"Thank you, Cora." Rosamund told her sister in law.
"I guess this means you're going to be at dinner tonight?" Robert asked and she nodded.
"Seems like it," the red head answered. Robert poured his sister a glass of brandy when a question came to his mind.
"Why did you come up? Unfinished business, perhaps?" Rosamund shook her head.
"No, I came up for Mama." She confessed. Robert exchanged a confused glance with his wife, who looked just as perplexed, shrugging her shoulders.
"Mama?" Robert repeated and Rosamund nodded in confirmation. "Has something happened to her?"
Sighing deeply, Rosamund moved from her spot by the desk. Deciding to sit on one of the many armchairs, she sipped her brandy to gather her thoughts. The Lord and Lady Grantham looked at the Lady Painswick expectantly and Rosamund looked at them right back.
"Igor Kuragin," she said without any preamble. Robert still looked confused and she heard Cora gasped quietly.
"He's back?" She asked, lowering her voice. "I thought he went back to Paris with his wife?" Robert looked between the two women in exasperation.
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" He demanded, feeling completely in the dark.
Cora and Rosamund both looked at him, as if unsure he could be trusted. Then they looked at each other, their expressions changing in the slightest as they continued their silent conversation. At least, that's what it looked like from Robert's perspective. He would have been amused if he weren't feeling so lost.
It seemed the two women had come to an agreement, for they both looked back at him. The Earl stared back at the two of them, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
"Well?" He prompted. Cora took a deep breath before speaking.
"Do you remember when Rose hosted that tea party for the refugees? And we laid out the relics from Mama's visit to Russia with your father?" Robert nodded.
"And she started talking about a ball in the Winter Palace when a man started to tell the story with her. Do you remember him?" Once again, he nodded. Where was this story going?
"Well, he's in Yorkshire now." Rosamund completed bluntly and Robert blinked once, then twice, then another blink. His sister looked at him, half in concern and half in amusement.
"Robert," Cora called, touching his arm gently. That seemed to shake him out of his reverie as he looked at Rosamund and Cora in shock.
"I thought Mama reunited him with his wife? I thought they left for Paris?" He ground out. Cora nodded.
"They did. But she died, remember? It somehow made it into the papers here," she told him gently. Robert's eyebrows raised again, and he heard Rosamund snort. He shot her a glare and all she did was smirk back.
Robert took another swig of his brandy as he processed the very little information Cora and Rosamund provided.
"And how does Mama fit into all of this?" He asked warily, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply.
"He asked for her hand in marriage," Rosamund informed him as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
In Cora's opinion, his spit take was the greatest thing she's seen all week.
In the corner of the library, Tiaa whimpered, startled by Robert's sudden reaction. She calmed down when she realized there was no danger.
"Marriage?" He asked incredulously. "She barely knew this man and... he's proposing marriage? I need to sit down." So he sat down in an armchair.
"She nearly eloped with this man all those years ago, I can see why he still wants to do so now after all this time." Rosamund said. Both Robert and Cora looked up sharply.
"Mama? Elope?" Cora asked disbelief coloring her voice, laughing slightly. "Traditional, darling Mama?" She repeated, sitting next to Robert with her jaw on the floor.
"Close your mouth, Cora. It's very unladylike," Rosamund told her sister in law, amusement shining in her face and very clear in her voice. Said sister in law shot her a half-hearted glare.
"And just how do you know all this?" Robert questioned and his sister looked at him blankly.
"It's in Mama's unpublished memoir," she told him with a flat look.
"Ha ha ha," Robert responded, his voice as flat as Rosamund's expression. "Mama told you, didn't she?"
At this Rosamund nodded, not needing to add anything at the moment.
"How do you fit into all of this?" Cora asked after a few beats of silence.
"About a month ago, he came to London and knocked on my door. He was looked for Cousin Isobel," Rosamund explained, although that just seemed to confuse Cora.
"What did he want with Isobel?" She asked, her eyes narrowed him confusion. Rosamund shrugged, wishing she had the answer to Cora's question.
"All I know is that he met Cousin Isobel through Mama. Why he was looking for her in particular, I haven't got a clue as to why." Another thing had been nagging at Cora.
"Why couldn't he just come to Yorkshire directly? Why did he have to come to you? I mean, he's even been in this very estate," she mused out loud.
Rosamund opened her mouth to speak, until she realized she had no answer. She shook her head, now seemingly just as confused.
"Anyway," Robert interrupted as he turned back to his sister. "You were saying?" He prompted.
"I invited him in for tea and gave him directions how to get to Cavenham. That was the end of our interaction, really." Rosamund said off-handedly.
"According to Mama, he's been staying at Cavenham for the past month." Robert's eyes widened comically and Rosamund would have laughed if she wasn't so concerned.
Cora snapped her head in Rosamund direction.
"What?" She asked, her voice going up an octave.
"That's what I thought," Rosamund agreed with Cora's sentiment.
"So Isobel and Dickie have been housing this man for the past month? We've had a bout four dinner with them." He asked Rosamund, still trying to process the unbelievable conversation. Which they were still having.
Rosamund nodded, biting her lip. Robert sighed heavily.
"The Mertons are very private people, I'm sure they wouldn't want Cavenham to become a house of scandal," Cora reasoned with her husband. "And I don't think they would have told us because it's not really our business."
"Well it has to do with Mama, doesn't it. What concerns Mama concerns us." Robert argued fiercely.
Cora pursed her lips at her husband's reasoning.
"If Isobel and Dickie Merton are private people, Mama is lock and key. She hates speaking of her past unless the situation calls for it."
"Or if she's trying to prove someone wrong," Rosamund added.
The three of them were silent for a few minutes until Rosamund spoke up once more.
"I suspect Mary knows as well," she continued. At this, Cora looked up.
"Mary?" She asked, her forehead creased in confusion. "How would she know about this?"
"Mary and Isobel are quite close, remember." Rosamund replied, now sitting across from the couple. "I wouldn't be surprised if it came up in one of their conversations.
Cora bobbed her head in resignation.
"More than likely," Robert mumbled as he rubbed his hands over his face.
"I think it's best if Mama doesn't find out that Robert and I know now as well." Lady Grantham decided, determination in her voice.
Robert and Rosamund immediately chorused their agreement.
•December 25, 1874•
Winter Palace, Russia
They had locked themselves in the abandoned apartments of Nicholas I and Alexandra Feodorovna, the Princess Charlotte of Prussia.
The red headed beauty lounged on the chaise as he watched her loved fish something out of his coat pocket.
He handed her a small box covered in velvet. The young Countess looked at him in confusion.
"Take it," Igor insisted gently, holding the box out for her to take. Violet took it hesitantly, not daring to open it.
"What is it?" She asked suspiciously, running her fingernail through the luxurious material.
"If you open it, your question will be answered," the Prince replied in a teasing manner. Violet got up from her (very comfortable) perch on the chaise to join him on the bench in front of the bed.
He wrapped a possessive arm around Violet's waist as she sat down, pulling her close to him.
Continuing to eye the man next to her, Violet opened the box slowly and gasped when she saw what was nestled inside.
"A ring?" Violet whispered shakily, fully looking up at Igor.
It was a beautiful ring and Violet couldn't help but stare.
An emerald cut diamond had been delicately placed on top of two rings that had been fused together to make a singular ring. Violet studied the ring further to discover that one of the bands had been encrusted with rubies and the other had been plain.
"It's gorgeous," she finally breathed, still looking at the piece of jewelry she held in her hands.
"Marry me," Igor told her softly. So softly Violet nearly missed it. She looked at him, her sapphire colored eyes wide.
"What?" She whispered, her voice breaking ever so slightly.
"Marry me," he repeated, louder this time.
Violet shook her head in disbelief, at a loss for words. She smiled sardonically to herself. Igor was the only one who could render her speechless no matter what the circumstance.
"We can't." Violet insisted firmly. "We're both married-"
"-to people who would rather be with each other rather than us." Igor interrupted, and Violet shot him a glare.
"We have reputations to uphold," she tried to reason out.
"You never cared about that until your predecessor lectured you on the importance of propriety." He countered once more.
"Children." Violet said bluntly and Igor looked her in confusion.
"I have children, Igor." Violet stressed. "Children whom I love very much. Children that I cannot leave for... this."
Igor sighed and shook his head, taking her hand in his and gently interlacing their fingers. His rough and calloused, hers elegant and feminine.
"I love you," he said simply. Violet squeezed his hand gently.
"I love you too," she replied as she drew his hand to her lips to place a tender kiss on his skin. "But I don't know if I can marry you. I don't want to live the rest of my life hiding from the world."
"I do not wish for you to give me an answer tonight. I want you to think about it," Igor told her kissing her lips softly.
Covering her hands which were still gingerly holding the box, he closed it with a snap.
Violet closed her eyes and inhaled shakily, prompting Igor to tenderly kiss each eyelid. His lips trailed down to the bridge of her nose, each cheek, each corner of her mouth, and finally back to her lips.
Releasing one of her hands from him hold, Violet cupped the back of his head, tangling her fingers through the brown locks.
"Don't think of it right now," Igor whispered against her, his lips now trailing down her neck. "Don't think of anything right now."
Violet nodded breathily in response. Igor mumbled something against her collarbone and Violet had nearly missed it. The slight pleading in his voice broke her heart, and she couldn't help but comply to his wishes.
"Let tonight be about us. Just this once."
•tbc•