Please Don't Do This
The saying is 'the straw that broke the camel's back' but Cora Crawley had never really understood it before. It seemed a silly expression, that one piece of straw on a heavy load could make any difference and could be a breaking point for the poor camel. One little thing one way or another couldn't be so important.
Until it was.
"Cora, you really must pay closer attention with the flower arrangements," Mama chided, standing up from the settee to criticize the bouquet sitting on the table by the window in the drawing room.
Such comments were commonplace for Cora. "I thought it looked nice," she defended.
But she knew better than to let her mother-in-law's remarks bother her anymore. It had been a wearying engagement before she married Robert, what with Mama and Cora's own mother dictating her every move. And after the wedding, once she and Robert returned from their highly disappointing—to Cora's mind at least—honeymoon, Lady Grantham had made it her life's mission to turn the American heiress into a future countess. Cora had thought she was just inexperienced and unfamiliar with that way of life, but apparently she was barely a step up from a scullery maid in her ability to become the lady of Downton Abbey. After the initial shock of it, Cora had developed a thick skin and learned to hold her tongue.
So quickly after trying to defend herself, Cora asked, "Would you be able to help me fix it?"
Mama sighed in annoyance. "You've got far too much greenery, it overwhelms the flowers."
Cora stood and came to Lady Grantham's side, dutifully feigning interest. Her mind wandered, however. She'd received a telegram this morning from New York. Harold, surprisingly enough, had been the one to tell her that their father had fallen ill. There wasn't anything to be done, and Cora shouldn't worry herself. It seemed Mother didn't want her to worry, but Harold thought Cora should know. It was good of him to contact her. It was better that she knew. Wasn't it? She was certainly worried. And she feared that if this were the end of her dear father's life, she might not get the opportunity to say goodbye. But she couldn't very well leave her new home and new family, not now. She and Robert were to celebrate their first wedding anniversary in just ten days. It wouldn't be right for her to not be present with him on their anniversary.
Though Robert probably wouldn't be bothered by her absence. He'd only hate the way it would look, the viscountess away on their wedding anniversary. Not that he cared at all about their marriage at all. As soon as they'd returned home from honeymoon, he'd left her utterly to his mother's care. He went back to living his own life as though he'd only had a big party at the church and a prolonged holiday on the continent. The only difference to his life since marrying Cora, to her mind, was their continued futile efforts to bear a child. An heir, specifically. And when the deed was done, he would return to his own bedroom, leaving Cora as alone as she was the rest of the time.
Oh Robert was not unkind. When they were together, he was always attentive and gentle and polite. About once a week, in fact, he would take her on a walk around the grounds. Or rather, he would ask if she wanted to accompany him with the dog. But he would put his hand on hers when she rested it in the crook of his arm. He would tell her about what he'd been doing to help his father manage the estate. He would ask her about how she spent her days. They would discuss the dinners they'd been to and the people they'd been seeing. It was pleasant, and he was kind to her. He just always seemed busy with things other than Cora. It was probably her own fault for imagining that their marriage would be anything other than this arrangement of separate lives under the same roof.
She was growing to hate herself for loving him. Never mind the futile efforts of their copulation, the truly futile effort was the small, slowly dying flame of Cora's hope that Robert might one day love her as she loved him. As she'd loved him from the moment they met. Her mother was right. She'd been foolish for letting that guide her decision. She was trapped now. Trapped in a house with a husband who was unconcerned with her beyond the money that saved the estate and the eventual heir she would be required to produce. Trapped by the expectations of the family that would have gladly taken her money and turned her out if they could. Trapped by her love of a man who could not care less about her presence in his life.
Mama continued massacring the floral arrangement that Cora had spent a considerable amount of time and effort putting together. Robert entered the room just as she was finishing.
"There, you see? Much prettier," Mama insisted, stepping back to admire her own work.
Cora opened her mouth to thank Mama for her help when Robert spoke first. "Oh yes, that does look nice. I can't imagine what it was like before, but this is better, I'm sure."
And that was it. The straw that broke the camel's back.
"If you would excuse me, I have some things to attend to in my room," Cora said, rushing out of the drawing room before anyone could say anything about her rudeness.
But Cora could not wait. She could not stand it a second longer. Mama's criticism that bordered on abuse. Her family and friends so far away. Her father sick. And Robert, once again, having absolutely no thought to her feelings whatsoever. It was more than she could take. She broke.
On her way to run up the stairs, she saw Carson, the underbutler, walking through the grand foyer. "Carson, could you please ask Smithson to come to my room and to pack my things?" And in a fit of madness, she pulled her wedding ring off her finger. "And could you please give this to Lord Downton? I won't be wearing it anymore."
A weight was lifted off Cora's shoulders as she entered her bedroom. It would not be her bedroom any longer. She would leave. She would be free. She would see her father and pick up the pieces of her failed life. It would all be better for her to leave.
But at the same time, her heart broke in her chest. To admit to the failure, to finally admit to the fact that Robert did not love her and would never love her, was more painful than anything else. She sat down on the bench at the end of her bed and started to cry. It would take her lady's maid some time to come up so unexpectedly, surely. She could wipe her eyes and take some deep breaths when Smithson arrived.
The knock on the door was sooner than Cora anticipated. She stood up and hurried to her nightstand to get a handkerchief. "Yes," she called, allowing Smithson to enter.
Only it wasn't Smithson who came into the room. "Cora? What's going on?"
She stared at Robert, who looked back at her with a look of confusion that she might have found rather adorable under any other circumstances. "I'm leaving, Robert."
"Where are you going?"
"Home. To New York. I received news this morning that my father is sick."
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, polite as ever. "How long will you be gone?"
"For the rest of my life, I imagine. I won't be coming back. I'm leaving you." Cora's calm tone surprised even her. It seemed the only thing to do, after all.
His jaw dropped. It wasn't adorable this time. It was actually quite heartbreaking. The look in his blue eyes was not one of confusion but of fear. Cora had to look away.
She began fidgeting with things, walking over to her vanity table, trying to think of something to say. But she did not want to say anything. Every time she thought of something, she could feel the lump in her throat grow. Her tears started flowing again, but she just kept herself faced away from him.
"Why, Cora?" Robert finally asked his voice strained.
"No one here likes me, despite how much I've tried to learn and to do what I'm supposed to. Your mother hates me. Your father doesn't notice that I exist at all, now that the estate has my money. And you…" She squeezed her eyes tight and swallowed hard in order to get the words out. "You don't love me, so it shouldn't matter one way or another whether I stay or go."
She heard him take a few steps toward her and pull her arm so that she would face him. "That isn't true," he insisted.
It hurt her to see him. To have him so close and yet still feel like he was so far away. Like he would always be so far away. "You needn't pretend, Robert. It's been a year of this, and I just can't do it anymore. So I'll go. You can carry on as you always have." She pulled away from him, even as she wished she could fall into his arms and beg for him to give her a reason to stay. She knew that he wouldn't.
"You can't leave," Robert protested weakly.
"I know, it's not the proper thing to do," she shot back.
"But our anniversary…"
"What's the point of celebrating that? Why should we have to suffer through a party in honor of a loveless marriage?"
"It isn't!"
Tears filled her eyes again. "No, I suppose it's just a marriage of unrequited love. You'll not have to be made uncomfortable by my distasteful American emotions anymore."
She tried to turn away from him again, but this time Robert pulled her back to him with both hands, crashing her body into his and holding her tight against him. "Please don't go," he begged. "Please don't do this. Don't leave. Please."
"Robert, stop this," she pleaded, wanting to push him away but not having the strength to even try.
"Please, Cora. Please," he murmured, still holding her.
She looked up at him, her vision blurry through her tears. "Why should I stay?"
"Because you are my wife. Because I love you," he said. His voice held no hesitation. Not a single waver.
Cora thought she might faint. But she didn't. Instead, Robert kissed her. He kissed her like he had never kissed her before. She could feel passion in his kiss, something that had been hinted at before, a few times during their awkward honeymoon and on occasion when he came to her room at night. Their lovemaking had always been pleasurable, once they got the hang of things between them, but it was nothing like the fervent desire Robert allowed to come through his kiss now. It was a kiss of want, of need, of love.
Robert pulled away, gasping for air and searching her face. Cora felt dazed. But he spoke again in that same strong, sure tone. "I do love you, Cora. I have for quite some time, now. I wish I had figured out how to tell you before now and even more, I wish I could have shown you. As you deserve. And if you…if you would stay, I can only vow to try every single day to be the husband you deserve. To love you and to make you happy. Please, Cora, please let me try."
She hardly knew what to say or do. This had all been so sudden and so unexpected. Though perhaps she should have known Robert would behave like this if he ever did fall in love with her as he claimed he had; he was so embarrassed of anything and everything that could possibly be so undignified as human emotion. He was the very picture of an English nobleman in that regard. But she had seen the glimpses of the kind, gentle man beneath. The man that cared so deeply for his home and his family and his duty. The man who wanted more than anything to do what was right. She rather thought that he did not love her because it would force Robert to humble himself to his own feelings, and he would never allow such a thing. It seemed that perhaps she was wrong. She had never been more pleased to be wrong in all her life.
"Cora, say something," he implored, his face turning worried once more, even as he still held her tight in his arms.
It took her another moment to remember how to speak. "D-did Carson give you my ring?"
He nodded, unhanding her to take the ring from his jacket pocket. "That's why I came up here. When I put this ring on your finger, I truly did intend for you to wear it for the rest of your life. I didn't know I'd failed so horribly as a husband for you to want to take it off.
She fixed her eyes on her ring in his hand. "I didn't think you'd care if I did," she said quietly.
"It is my fault that you would believe that. I assure you that I care very much. Carson told me privately, away from Mama, thankfully, and gave me the ring and told me what you said, and I thought I was going to be sick."
"May I have it back, please?" she requested.
Robert took her left hand and slid the ring back into place and kissed her knuckle reverently. Cora felt herself start to cry again. But this time, she was smiling. "So you'll stay?" he asked expectantly.
"On two conditions."
"Name them."
"First, I ask that we have at least one conversation every day, just the two of us, without anyone around. Like we do on our walks. I want to be a part of your life, and I want you to be a part of my life."
"Oh, I didn't want to interrupt your day or impose my company on you too often," he said, frowning.
Cora reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand. "I love you, Robert. You are no imposition at all. Quite the opposite. I want to be with you."
He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. "I am very glad to hear it. We shall take walks every day after breakfast, if possible, and if we're otherwise detained, I shall find another time in the day for us to be alone together. And what is your other condition?"
She felt a little nervous about this one. Regretted even thinking of it. "Well I…"
"Yes?" he encouraged.
"When you come to my room at night, sometimes, at least, would…would you stay?"
He frowned again in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"It's rather lonely for me when you leave…after. And I know that's the proper way of doing things, but I…well, as I said, I want to be with you."
"You mean you want me to sleep beside you?"
"If you think it would be alright, a-at least sometimes…" Her cheeks grew warm as she tried to keep herself from telling him to forget she'd ever said anything.
But Robert surprised her again. He pulled her back into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her and seeming to revel in the feel of her. "My darling, I should love nothing more than to fall asleep beside you every single night. I never thought you would want me to bother you more than I already do."
Cora hugged him back and started to laugh in this strange feeling of catharsis. "I will tell you for a third time, Robert, that I love you and I want you to be with me. I thought you didn't want me."
"No, never. Oh my Cora, I want you more than words can say."
She pulled back slightly so she could look up at him. "Then would you kiss me again, like you did before? Please?"
It was a third condition that she'd snuck in, but as with the other two, Robert eagerly agreed. They remained that way for far longer than would ever be considered proper, but instead of being concerned with that, they did precisely what they both wanted.
Smithson had been told by Carson to wait until Lord Downton left Lady Downton's room before going in. She never did go into Her Ladyship's room to help her pack anything that day.