AN: The appreciation for this story is so touching. I apologise for the lack of individual responses to reviews, I will return to that, when I have time again! Please do keep leaving you comments. Cobert love to you all.

Chapter 26 – May 1889

He watches her retreating figure before he returns to the paperwork on his father's desk. He had seen the flicker of hurt in her eyes at his refusal to walk with her. It had become a little bit of a habit, walking with her every other morning or so in the gardens. Just along the path and maybe to the rose garden and back. Then he would return to the house, his father, and estate business, whilst she wandered a little further and then returned for what she was calling her 'Countess lessons with the Countess' and plans for Rosamund's wedding.

Not today though, he had been edging dangerously close to spending too much time with her. It was not good for the control he needed over his desires. Walking with her in the garden, watching the sun catch her eyes, hearing her laugh and actually seeing her relax (something he had noted she was struggling with in the house with his parents), were all tipping him into that whirlwind of what it felt like to be joined with her. The guilt that hung over him for his reasons for marrying her were enough, he was not going to let himself become guilty of taking advantage of her innocence and her love as well. One guilt was quite enough to be living with.

He pushes the papers on the desk to one side and takes the ledger from its place on the bottom shelf of the corner bookshelf, determined whilst his father is not present to have a look at it. He had asked a few times to be privy to the ledger, to see the figures on the pages and work out what the most expensive costs of running Downton were, but his father had refused on every occasion to take time to show him. It was time then, to take matters into his own hands.

He retrieves the current ledger and takes it to the desk, opening it to the current page. He trails his fingers over the ink, following the numbers backwards, glancing across at the headings his father had added. He has skimmed back through about three pages when he hears footsteps coming in from the front door and across the small library. His father's shadow falls over him.

"I thought I told you not to worry about the ledgers?" Robert swallows, the flickering of anger in his father's voice clearly apparent.

"I just want to learn Papa, and since you are quite unwilling to help me, I thought I would try to learn alone." His father steps to the desk and takes the ledger, letting the pages full shut with a thud.

"You've got far more important things to be worrying about than learning how to write numbers in columns." Robert swallows, sensing that trying to deny such a comment, or argue his reasoning for wanting to understand the ledgers would be doomed to fail, yet again. His father is in one of those moods that suggests he's fallen out with Mama. "Is Cora behaving as she should, as your wife?" The question is loaded. Robert can see the pulsing question behind his eyes, the question of an heir.

"I am pleased you're calling her Cora."

"Robert – "

"I won't be dignifying your question with an answer." He was not going to let his father get under his skin about this. It was a topic he was trying to avoid thinking about anyway and certainly not one he was going to discuss with his father. They had years to have an heir, Cora was very young, they both were. It seemed unnecessary and rude for his father to be so questioning. What on earth made his father think Cora was not committing to her duties as his wife?

"I would remind you Robert, that it is your duty, and Cora's, to have an heir." Robert shakes his head and turns his eyes narrowly at his father. When had his father become so unfeeling?

"We are both quite aware of that thank you." He clips his tone at the end, trying to bring the conversation to a close. In truth, he and Cora had not yet discussed the matter of an heir, but from things his sister had said to him, he knew that Cora was fully aware of the duty they shared – it sounded as if his mother had already questioned her numerous times since their return from honeymoon.

His father thankfully takes the hint from his tone and they lapse into a silence. Robert isn't sure quite what to say or do. His father silently claims back his desk and begins reading something with extreme focus. Robert's thoughts linger over the issue of the ledgers. Why was his father so reluctant for him to learn more about what the role of Earl entailed?

"This wedding of Rosamund's is getting a little extravagant." His father is muttering to himself, but the words catch Robert's attention, given the silence in the library and his inability to think of anything useful to do, other than circle around his own thoughts.

"Surely that's not really a problem, not now?"

"Two weddings in one year is hardly ideal."

"Didn't the Levinson's pay for the majority of my wedding though? And with Cora's money now, surely everything is fine?" His father huffs in a sort of disinterested tone. Money was not a topic he was going to discuss openly, as ever. It did seem odd that he was fussing about Rosamund's wedding though, hadn't they been waiting for years to get Rosamund married ever since she had been presented four years ago? Realisation seems to dawn on him. "This isn't about the money is it! This is about Marmaduke? Please don't tell me you don't agree with Mama about him?"

"No, of course not. I wouldn't deny Rosamund a love match, and Marmaduke is more than capable of looking after Rosamund, financially and in greatness of character. But I do wish that she had chosen a gentleman, that's all. It would be so much easier, and of course, you and Cora didn't exactly help matters, you really shouldn't have encouraged her."

"So that's why you don't tell Mama off for blaming Cora for Rosamund's engagement, because you blame her too."

"I don't blame her. But it wasn't her business to get involved with."

"It had nothing to do with Cora. Rosamund asked for my help in persuading you and Mama, I did as she asked. The only part Cora played in it was following my lead." He surprises himself in the ease in which he defends Cora over his father. He had never thought the day would come that he and his father would disagree, but that day seemed to be almost endless at the moment.

"I'm sure Rosamund could have managed the fight without any assistance. Cora has nothing to do with my reasons for not speaking against your mother when she gets overwrought about it." Robert furrows his brow, tilting his head in question as his father turns on his seat to look at him. "Your mother is a complicated woman. When she doesn't get her way, as is the case with both of her children's marriages, she tends to lash out. It will pass soon enough, as soon as something else comes along for her to chomp at the bit about." Robert didn't like to think about what that might be.

They lapse into silence again and Robert eventually puts the book down that he had been trying and failing to read. He felt a strange urge to go and find Cora on her walk, he should join her after all. The weather was nice, and he needed conversation and she was sure to provide it.

He leaves the library behind him, has his coat fetched by a footman and disappears out the front door. He can't find her on her usual walk in the direction of the rose garden and turns tail to head in the direction of the village, it might be nice to call on his grandmother if he can't find Cora.

He doesn't come across her on his walk into the village so he strolls across the green to Crawley House and knocks on his grandmother's door. The butler answers him and he is admitted. Granny appears in the hall, a wide smile on her face.

"Robert, what a lovely surprise. Aren't I lucky today, two visitors." The butler takes his coat, his grandmother had disappeared back into her little drawing room before he can ask who else is visiting. He imagines it is likely to be Rosamund – imparting more wedding details. Thus, he is somewhat surprised when he enters the drawing room and spies the back of Cora's head. Her blue hat sits slightly slanted on her head, her dark hair curved in waves beneath it, followed by the long curve of her elegant neck. She tilts her head to look at him as he moves around the settee. Her blue eyes meet his and a brilliant smile spreads across her features. Without thinking, he leans forward to kiss her cheek softly beneath the brim of her hat, before taking seat beside her. He watches as she dips her face, her long eyelashes closing over her eyes for a second, a little blotch of pink appearing on her cheeks where he had just kissed her. She was so incredibly beautiful. No wonder he was having such a difficult time controlling his desires when such a tiny movement of her eyelashes had him captivated.

"I didn't know you were calling on Granny."

"I didn't plan it. But after you didn't join me on my walk I ended up in the village and thought I might call as I was passing."

"Which was very kind of you Cora dear." Robert almost starts at the sound of his grandmother's voice, he had almost forgotten she was in the room, so enthralled by watching Cora. "I don't get that many visitors and I have loved hearing about your honeymoon in more detail. It sounds like you had a wonderful time."

"Yes, we did. It was nice to be in Italy, but not in the middle of the summer. The heat was actually bearable."

"I remember when your grandfather and I went, it was frightfully hot. Beautiful, but very hot and we were probably travelling for a lot longer than you had to, I remember the voyage seemed almost endless." She laughs softly, and Robert watches as memories seem to drift behind his grandmother's eyes.

"Where else did you travel with your husband Lady Grantham?"

"Mary, please Cora. My daughter-in-law might insist on you addressing her by her title but I am not Violet." Robert watches Cora swallow softly but his grandmother continues without a break to breathe. "We visited France and Germany as well, but that's about it. Patrick has always been the real traveller. Robert's parents have seen most of Europe and they visited Russia about a decade ago. The last I heard Patrick had some scheme for Egypt."

"Egypt would be fascinating." Personally, Robert couldn't think of anything worse. Sand everywhere, the heat and then there would be all the food, animals and insects to avoid. Definitely something he could live without, although he rather doubted he would have the choice – his father was bound to try and make it a family trip now he and Rosamund were old enough to join them on their adventures. At least it sounded like Cora would enjoy it whenever it happened. That would be something, to see her happy in the sun and to give her opportunities that she might not have had if she hadn't married him. That would be something for her, something to make up for all the things she had given up to marry him.

"Of course, you have seen parts of the world that the rest of us have not Cora. We have only ever travelled about on one continent. Your short life has already spanned two." Robert sees the teacup shake slightly in her hand before she steadies her wrist by placing her other hand over it. His grandmother had not intentionally said anything to cause harm, Robert knew that, but Cora had been struggling a little with being homesick since her family had left. She had been fine to start with, worried only about her father's health, but she had admitted to him a few days ago that when she got her letters from home and they smelt faintly of her home in America she found it unsettling. She had become tearful and he had not known what to say. He never seemed to know what to say. Just as he doesn't now. He just waits, hoping she will find her composure. "Cora, what did I say?" His grandmother's voice has changed and she is suddenly sliding off her chair to crouch before his wife.

It's then that he sees what he had missed. He had been so busy watching her hand steady her cup and stressing about what to say, that he had missed her eyes closing and her long eyelashes fluttering to blink away tears. Why was he so exceedingly blind? He would blame the brim of her hat blocking his vision, but it was no excuse. This woman was his wife and he didn't even know when she was going to cry. She sniffs softly as his grandmother removes the teacup from her shaking hand and takes her hands in her own, squeezing them softly.

"Nothing. Nothing. I'm fine." The tears on her cheeks, even as she hastily swipes them away, beg to differ. She glances across at him and he swallows, faced once again with the intricacies of yet another expression that he doesn't understand. She looks almost scared as she looks at him through her teary eyes. "Sorry, that was very unladylike." She takes her teacup back, pushes her shoulders back. Robert is struck by the almost immediate transformation, how easily she seemed to suppress her unhappiness and pretend everything was alright. He wondered if he would be able to learn from that strength one day.

"Don't apologise my dear. Are you homesick?" His grandmother utters the words softly, Cora doesn't answer. He reaches across and takes her hand as it starts to shake on her teacup again. He is shocked by the vice like grip she exerts as her fingers cling onto his.

"Cora has been having moments of homesickness Granny, that's all." Her fingers curl into his again, a squeeze of thanks he thinks.

"Perfectly natural. I had that when I first moved to Downton and I hadn't arrived in a whole new country my dear." His grandmother smiles and pats Cora's other hand, before offering her a slice of cake from the table and returning to her chair.

"I'm sure it would be easier if…" But here her voice trails off. She seems to stop herself from saying whatever else it was she had been going to say. Before he has a chance to urge Cora to be honest and admit her concerns, just as they had promised each other they would, his grandmother laughs.

"If you didn't have to live under the same roof as Violet, yes, you're right there, my dear." Cora blushes. Robert finds himself frowning again, how had his grandmother known that his mother was troubling Cora? She hadn't said anything to him.

"Well, I wouldn't – "

"Don't worry, Cora dear, I won't tell her. Or anyone else. But just remember, her bark is worse than her bite." Robert watches Cora's lips turn up briefly into a smile. The ladies continue to talk, but Robert finds his thoughts drifting off.

He starts to compile a list of thoughts that he wants to ask Cora about. They had promised each other honesty and openness and it seemed there were some things she had been keeping from him. Or maybe she hadn't and he had just been failing to see them clearly? Either way, he wanted to ask her about her homesickness, maybe there was something he could do to help? And his mother, it was apparent that was something she hadn't been admitting to him. He did know from Rosamund that there had been a few close encounters, and he had witnessed a handful himself, but he was not aware it had been affecting her as deeply as this. He would find out and offer his support, it was the least he could do. Maybe it might assuage some of his guilt?

She hesitates, the pen an inch from the sheet of paper. She didn't have any news to impart to her father. She so dearly wanted to write to him, to carry on their conversations on paper as much as possible, but she did not know what to say. She had already told him in her last letter about her continued riding lessons with Robert, and Rosamund's wedding plans. The other things that had happened to her were not things she wanted to worry her father with. He didn't want to know about the feelings of homesickness that came over her sometimes, like today at Robert's grandmother's. Neither did he want to know about Lady Grantham nettling her about how she had supposedly encouraged Rosamund into such 'foolish notions of love' – as if Rosamund could be fooled into anything. The only other topic left to discuss was Robert and the mere thought of that makes her heart clench. She puts the pen down in defeat, her thoughts turning over rapidly in her head.

She felt as if she was losing him. Every day since their return from honeymoon he seemed to slip further from her grasp. She could not understand it, and there hadn't been an opportunity to ask. It was too private a conversation for the rooms downstairs, and when he was in her room it was never the right moment. That was one of the problems that she wanted to discuss as well – her bedroom – or rather what went on in it.

On their honeymoon he had seemed to want to spend time with her. They had talked easily in the seating areas of their various suites and although they had retired to separate rooms on either side of these suites, he had visited her more nights than he had not. She had genuinely thought they had been settling into marriage well. Then they had returned to Downton and things had changed. She hadn't noticed it straight away, caught up as she had been with her family leaving. But now, it was obvious. She spent most of her days alone, or with Rosamund or Lady Grantham. Robert walked with her most days, but not for long enough to quell her loneliness – which only make the homesick feeling worse. She saw him mainly at dinners, sat across from him at the table, with his mother glaring at her. There was no time for conversation between them, not proper conversation with the teasing they used to share.

Then there were their marital relations. She had realised, on her walk this morning, that he had a routine. She could not fathom how she had not noticed it before. Three times a week. Like clockwork. Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. This had not been something he had done on their honeymoon, it was new, and it unnerved her more than his mother making barbed remarks. It terrified her if she was honest. It made her feel so incredibly unwanted, as if she was just another engagement in the diary, another task for him to complete. Maybe she was?

She swallows, pushing the letter paper away from where the tears might start to fall onto it.

She had always known that he didn't love her, but need he be quite so obvious about treating her like a chore? The tears don't come thank goodness, that would not be wise given that today was in fact Thursday, and thus he would be knocking on the adjoining door any moment. His lopsided smile and dropped gaze poking their way into her room soon afterwards. Both of which would be sure to make her heart swell into something she wasn't able to control and her abdomen begin to quiver in that anticipation that she had grown to look forward to, but still did not fully understand.

That was another thing. She had been far too nervous to ask Robert about that. The clenching in her abdomen that got tighter and tighter when they were intimate together. Winding itself into that coil that was ready to spring open but never seemed to be released. She wanted to ask him if it was meant to be released but she didn't know how to and she doubted he would talk about it anyway. She had resigned herself to hoping that one day it would just happen, the coil would spring open and she would understand that, without having to mention it to Robert. Even if that didn't happen, she doubted she would ask him, and certainly not when it was becoming very clear that he was not interested in her.

Her father's idea of trying to make Robert fall in love with her was just as empty dream. It was never going to happen.

Perfectly on cue, he knocks on the adjoining door. She wonders for a second what would happen if she didn't answer his knock, would he still enter? She contemplates it for another second, after all, he was to be disappointed tonight and that was going to be as awkward a conversation as it had been on the last two occasions – why could he not learn to count? Surely with his ability to time each visit with precision down to the five-minute interval in which he arrived, he was capable of counting a months' worth of days? She calls out for him to come in.

He smiles nervously and greets her.

She blushes and feels her heart accelerate. All her frustration vanishing as his eyes meet hers.

She twists her fingers in her lap as he loiters somewhat nervously by the door. She is about to utter some sort of apology when he changes his usual routine and crosses the room to sit on the chaise. She frowns.

"Would you join me?" He gestures to the chaise. She stands, ready to cross and sit next to him but then hesitates. She had assumed it meant he wanted to talk, but what if he was going to try and complete their marital relations on the chaise? She knew that sort of thing would be possible, (from what she had learnt from her experiences so far) but tonight was not the night for that and it would be best to tell him, before things started and then she would be so lost in his touch that it would be too late.

"Robert, I…we can't, not tonight. I'm bleeding again and –"

"I know Cora. I know I embarrassed you last month when I forgot so I've learnt to count." He chuckles softly, and she finds herself blushing – she had been a little short with him last month and as he had left she had mumbled something rude about his inability to count – clearly, he had heard. "But I wanted to talk about a few things." He gestures to the space beside him again and she settles herself next to him. "I was worried about you today at Granny's."

"I'm fine. I just have occasional moments of really missing America, or home at least. And I'm worrying about my father." She keeps her gazed fixed on her lap, that moment earlier had been quite awkward enough without Robert bringing it up again. She had been closer than she liked to admit to getting her cup of tea all down her dress and on the floor. The only relief had been that Lady Grantham had not been there to witness it.

"That's not really what bothered me about it. I had anticipated that adjusting to life at Downton once the wedding was over and your family were gone would be hard. What bothered me was that you hadn't told me you felt like this."

"I didn't think it was important. I can control it most of the time." This was not entirely true, it was more that there had not been a chance to speak to him about it and she hadn't wanted to burden him with something she imagined he would find difficult to understand, not having ever experienced it himself. The night he had come to fetch her a couple of days after her family had left had also been present in her mind. He hadn't exactly been very comforting, bowing to his mother's wishes and coming to ask her to return to the drawing room. He had said the right things of course, offering to listen to her concerns, but she had ignored it. It was easy enough to speak the words without meaning them. She regretted that now, maybe she had read him wrong in her anger at his mother, maybe he had been sincere.

"Cora, we said that we would make this marriage work as best we could. We wanted to build a friendship. I won't pretend to have hundreds of friendships, because I don't. But from the ones I do have, I know that something like this is something you should share. As I said about a month ago, I won't try and pretend to understand, I never will be able to, because it is not an experience I have had to live with, but I am happy and able to listen."

"I think it's all mainly because of Papa. I'm so scared that I will never see him again. I love Downton, but it doesn't feel quite like home yet, which doesn't help either. I think I was probably deluding myself a bit about living here when my family were still here. It feels different now they are gone."

"I see." She is surprised when his hand creeps into her lap, taking her hand in his. He squeezes, an encouragement to continue.

"It would all be easier though, if I didn't have the thing with Papa as a shadow over me." She blinks away the tears. She felt so stupidly weak. He wasn't dead yet, what on earth was she going to be like when he died?

"What if I were to write to your mother, and try to determine the most likely prognosis? Then we can begin planning our trip to America, to make sure you're there."

"It keeps changing and it might change suddenly."

"Well I think I will write anyway. I'm sure they have a rough idea. We could go for an extended trip, three or four months or something, to cover the rough estimate." She isn't sure if she wants to cry or smile. What she does know is that her heart swells again, she didn't think it was possible to love him anymore, surely her heart was running out of space?

"Would you do that? Surely, you're needed here? I don't mind going on my own." She did mind, she would much rather he was with her, if only so that she could look into his eyes and try and forget everything else. But for him to give up so much of his time, to spend time with her family was not something she had expected him to offer. The roughly four to six-week round trip to see her father a final time and attend his burial she had accepted he could manage, but a few months, she thought not.

"We only have one father Cora and I refuse to be the reason you don't see him. You deserve better than that." She doesn't say anything. This was his guilt again, she can see it now. Would she ever be able to shake him of that? This wasn't the moment to lecture him about it though, she had murmured her distaste about it enough already to no effect. It was becoming apparent that only time would heal that wound for him.

"I wanted to ask about my mother as well." Cora swallows. This would be a much harder topic to negotiate. Her father's situation might be heart-breaking, but it didn't change much from that. It was a constant. His mother, was neither constant, not easily manageable. She was also a topic she doubted Robert would be able to help her with. The best way to conquer Lady Grantham was to learn from her. If she could learn how to be a good Viscountess, and practice the things her mother-in-law critiqued her on, she thought this would go much further to helping herself than getting Robert to defend her. Lady Grantham, despite her strict upholding of society rules, was not someone that liked weakness. Getting Robert to defend her would scream weakness and any small increments of progress she had made with her mother-in-law would be lost. "Is she bullying you Cora? She can be a terrible bully sometimes, and rude – "

"She's not. She is merely helping me learn how to fulfil my role as your wife and as a Viscountess."

"Yes, but – "

"Honestly Robert, I'm coping with your mother just fine. She keeps me on my toes and my thoughts distracted from my other worries, which is a blessed relief sometimes." She looks up at him, squeezing his hand and meeting his gaze. She tries to let confidence show on her face, despite how nervous she was about his mother, it would not do at all to have him defend her at her request. If he wanted to do it of his own accord she would not stop him, but she did not want Lady Grantham to have the satisfaction of thinking that she had gone crying into his arms. Not at all.

"Very well." He pats her hand and then stands to leave. She almost doesn't say anything. He has almost slipped back through the door before she wrestles her thoughts into persuading her to ask about her own concerns. He was right, they had promised each other they would talk about things, and she had been neglectful of that.

"Robert, wait." She stands from the chaise and takes a step towards him as he turns back to her. "Can I ask you something?" She nervously twists her hands in front of her as he nods, trying to think of the best words to use so not to embarrass either of them more than necessary. She wishes she was still wearing her wedding ring, twisting that about was much more comforting than just shuffling her fingers about. "It's about your routine…your routine with me that is. I mean…" She looks up into his eyes, his brow completely crumpled in confusion. She takes a deep breath, finding confidence in his eyes. "Since we have been back at Downton, why do you visit me on such a set schedule?"

His eyes close, his hand drops from where it had still been resting on the edge of the door. He steps back into the room, closing the door behind him. Time feels like it stands still as he shuffles to the chair and lowers himself into it. She finds herself just stood there, staring at the top of his head, waiting for him to say words that don't seem to come. She suddenly feels incredibly stupid, she shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't her place, this was the part of their marriage that he was in control of, and that he knew about, not her.

"I thought that would be easiest for you." His words are uttered quietly, and spoken to the ground, rather than towards her.

"Why?" He looks towards her now, so she lowers herself back onto the edge of the chaise.

"Because it's new for you, and an invasion of your space, your bedroom and…and your body." He seems to be in physical pain in his attempts to get the last word out.

"I don't mind Robert."

"Yes, but – "

"There are no 'buts' Robert. It is perfectly natural." There was no point shying away from it. Her brother had told her to be bold, she had yet to embrace that, maybe this was the beginning. Maybe, as her father suggested she could use her power to make this man fall in love with her after all. "We have a duty too, to have children."

"Cora – " She holds up her hand, stopping him. She wants to keep going, to say everything she wants to say before the Levinson determination coursing in her veins is washed away.

"And, I quite enjoy it." He blushes now, and she feels the heat of a blush creep up from the edges of her nightgown to her cheeks. She was only speaking the truth, and it seemed to her that Robert needed to hear it. He appeared to have been living in some deluded world in which he thought that something he was doing was making life easier for her, when in fact it had confused her, and upset her. "What I'm trying to say, is that you don't need to be so regimented. Except when I'm indisposed, you're welcome whenever you like."

"I won't hassle you Cora, but I will endeavour to be a little less fixed in my routine, if you would prefer that?"

"I just don't want you thinking you shouldn't visit me because you did the day before or whatever it is you're thinking. It's a natural thing Robert. I'd rather you just visited me when you wanted to, rather than trying to make some sort of timetable for fear of putting me out." His eyes flicker with something she can't place and then they crinkle into a smile. He bites his lips and shakes his head from side to side. Cora finds herself frowning, she wasn't sure there was anything funny about what she had said, it was not supposed to be funny.

"I can't believe we've just had this conversation." She rolls her eyes, of course, it was his English reserve making yet another appearance. Sometimes she wondered if he was older and worldlier than her at all.

"Ahh yes, of course, I forget. The English don't discuss their marriages, not even with each other, and they certainly don't discuss anything that happens in the privacy of a bedroom." He chuckles.

"It is ridiculous, when you phrase it like that. But, I'm not sure that's a purely English thing. I don't think many women would talk about it." She concedes to the truth in that and drops her gaze. Her confidence vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared. It had not been a ladylike conversation, that's what he was trying to tell her. It was not suitable for her to mentioning such things. "You're quite something Cora, that's for sure." She meets his smile with one of her own, her heart swelling once again. She doubted there would ever be a day that her heart wouldn't skip when he gave her a compliment. He stands, adjusting his dressing gown. She makes her second brave decision of the night.

"Would you stay and sleep in here?" The look that comes over his face tells her that she had in fact overstepped the mark this time. His hands tighten on the edges of his dressing gown, his gaze drops and his eyes lose their smile. He gently shakes his head.

"No. We shouldn't do that, it wouldn't be wise." Before she can query why it would not be a good idea ('wise' suggested something other than it not being what society and his mother would expect), he is gone, the dressing room door closing behind his retreating figure.

She tries not to feel hurt. She had achieved something at least, she had managed to raise her discontent at his routine, and he had listened and they had discussed her father and his mother. This was all progress. They could not possibly discuss all of their worries in one go. Neither could she expect him to throw caution and his entire upbringing into the flames and give into her whimsical desires to have him sleep in her bed. It might seem simple and basic to her, to find comfort with him beside her (that's what she imagined it would give her), but he did not view it like that. Her bed, her room, was for their intimate relationship, it was not for the whimsical needs of his wife.

She briefly contemplates returning to writing to her father, but she can't. She turns to her bed, and spying her copy of Little Women on the table she gets into bed. Opening the book that reminds her of home, and smells of it too, she slips into a familiar tale. It reminds her that people change, life changes them. Maybe she would be able to change Robert and open his heart as Amy does Laurie's.