Although he regretted to admit it now, it was true. He hadn't loved her a year ago when he married her. He was fond of her, to be sure; but love? No. There was no love on his part.

Not when he first met her at Lord and Lady Whitmere's ball, not when he proposed marriage in the gardens of his home, and not when she leaned toward him, a week before they were married, and pressed her lips softly against his own for the very first time. He thought he might have felt something for a moment when he saw her escorted down the aisle, all clad in ivory and white, her brilliant eyes bright and teary, but now it's clear that it wasn't love. It was pride and lust and every other shiny, yet sinful, sensation that parades itself as true affection. No. He wasn't in love with her then, but now? Well, he couldn't even remember it happening. It was as if very slowly, through a tiny pinhole in his heart, love began to drip inside, going unnoticed until suddenly, one glance in her direction and his heart leapt up, the sea of love in it caught aflame and his heart felt as if it were on fire. A bright, beautifully sparkling fire, warming his entire soul.

But now, he didn't know what to do. He wanted her to know how deeply he cared. It was imperative. He needed her to be happy, and with a deep sadness, he realized that she was not. She couldn't be. No one ever is in a one-sided love affair. But here was the dilemma: how? How should he tell her? To be honest, he didn't want to tell her outright, "I love you." No. That wouldn't do, but he wasn't sure what would. What he was sure of was that he wanted to spend every spare moment in her company and for every moment he was not with her, she occupied his thoughts.

So, after breakfast he found himself upstairs again, although he was to meet his father, wanting to see her. Robert tugged on the cuffs of his sleeves as he waited for Perkins, his wife's lady's maid, to leave her bedroom. He hated to appear as if he were just standing around and waiting, but he wanted so badly to see Cora before he started his day. As Perkins opened the door, Robert stood a little straighter and cleared his throat quietly.

The maid looked rather surprised and clutched the soft chemise of Cora's closer to her chest. "Oh, good morning, my lord!" Perkins addressed him.

Robert smiled at the maid, feeling a little embarrassed. "Is Lady Downton awake?"

Perkins smiled in return and shifted the under-thing in her arm. "Yes, my lord. She's breakfasting now." She paused for a moment and then added unsure, "May I help you with something?"

"Oh no," Robert waved dismissively, "I only want to see her."

Perkins blinked for a moment at him, smiled again, and moved away from the door.

"Of course, my lord," she added slowly. Then with another small smile, she noiselessly moved down the hall and to the servants' stairs.

Watching her maid depart, he opened the door to his wife's room and stepped inside.

Cora sat up in her bed, clad in a very light rose-colored housecoat, stirring her coffee. He watched her raise her brows and say without glancing upward as the door opened, "Did you forget something, Perkins?"

Robert closed the door behind him. "No, she didn't forget anything."

Cora looked up, wide-eyed, and held her spoon still in her fingers. "Robert!"

Robert's breath caught in his chest at the sound of his name covered in her accent, and as the morning's early light shone on her face, illuminating her clear blue eyes and gleaming off of her dark hair.

After another moment, she smiled, "I wasn't expecting you."

"No?"

"Well, no." She looked down to her breakfast tray, still wearing her smile, and then back up again. He watched her blink a couple of times and shift in the bed. "Do you need something?"

He sat in a chair across from her bed and shook his head. "No. I only thought I'd say good morning." Although he didn't normally visit her in the morning, or, well, ever visit her in the morning, he wasn't sure why everyone was acting so surprised.

"Oh." He watched as her eyes grew a little warmer. "Good morning."

Oh, he loved the sound of her voice. He continued. "Tell me what you've got planned for today," he ventured, stretching out his hands on the arms of the chair.

"Oh. Alright," she answered after a moment, looking back down to her coffee. He studied her lashes, her long fingers as they stirred her drink and spread preserves on her toast, and her lips as she spoke. She was lovely. And as he gazed longer and longer, his heart beat harder and harder inside of his chest.

"I said, what do you think?"

Was she speaking to him? "Hmm?"

"What do you think about the luncheon?"

"Oh, a luncheon. I'll ask Mama which dates are preferable."

Cora turned her head away from him a bit and narrowed her eyes. "I was speaking about the luncheon your mother's invited me to today. I wasn't expecting an invitation, frankly. She'll be with so many of her friends. And Rosamund, of course."

"Oh, of course."

Cora put down her spoon softly, "Are you alright, Robert?"

Robert smiled. "I am."

"Are you quite sure?" Cora tilted her head a bit, eyes shining and her dark curls moving on her shoulder. "What is it, really?"

The truth was that he wasn't alright; he was in love. Was this the moment to let her know? His heart began to pound inside of his chest. "It's just, you look quite lovely this morning."

He watched a grin tickle the corner of her lips, tempting him to capture it with his own.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Very lovely."

Cora stared at him, her countenance one of pleasure and perplexity.

"Thank you," she said a little slowly, smiling, and picked up her coffee cup, putting it to her lips, but not sipping it.

Robert again cleared his throat. "Papa wants me to walk the plantations with he and Jarvis this morning, so I suppose I better be going."

As Robert stood from his chair, Cora lifted her chin and smiled at him, as he began to walk around to her, she raised her eyebrows in slight surprise.

Bending down, Robert kissed his wife's soft cheek slowly and then stared down into her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Robert?"

"I'll see you later, then."

"But wait...are you sure everything's alright?"

Robert bent down and kissed her again, this time on the corner of her mouth.

"Yes, Cora. Everything's absolutely alright."

She looked up at him and stared. Her chest rose and fell, and she opened her mouth to say something. Then after a moment a glowing smile washed over her and he heard her sigh audibly.

With that he spun on his heel and left the room, tearing himself away before he climbed into her bed with her and spent the morning with her in his arms. He left her room and as he bounced down the stairs, he thought of Cora and the corner of her lips, humming a little in his bliss. His father met him at the bottom of the stairs, holding his pocket watch.

"Robert, there you are. I hope you are ready. We mustn't keep Jarvis waiting longer than we already have."

"Yes, of course." Robert took his coat, hat, and gloves from Carson, his valet, and walked with his father to the door. "Is Jarvis not meeting us here?"

"No. We're visiting those plantations on the north end of the estate. We're meeting Jarvis at Langley's."

"Ah."

Robert climbed in the carriage after his father and tugged the gloves on his hands, spreading his fingers in them to loosen them a bit.

"I'm afraid we're already running a little behind schedule," he heard his father say. He understood that he was the cause of their tardiness.

"I must have lost track of the time," Robert admitted.

His father grunted in reply.

Robert fell quiet and let his thoughts happily drift back to Cora. Although he enjoyed accompanying his father and always enjoyed learning what his father called "his duties", this morning he wanted nothing more than to be with Cora.

"Do we have much to do with Jarvis?"

Again his father grunted.

"Will we be long?"

Patrick looked at his son, his mouth terse and his brow heavy. "Have you something more important to do?"

Robert realized his rudeness and began to explain, but was interrupted.

"We'll be as long as it takes." Patrick looked back at the nature passing them by outside of the carriage. After a moment he turned back to his son. "Please take this seriously, Robert. I am growing older. I'm growing older and soon, maybe very soon, you'll be master here."

Talk like this always made Robert feel uncomfortable. "Really, Papa, you've got many years left."

Patrick sighed. "I'm not quite so sure about that, and even if I do, this is all getting to be too much for only me. I intend to involve you on every aspect of running this estate from this point onward."

Yes, this was making Robert exceedingly nervous. Not nervous because he didn't find interest in running the estate, or helping his father, but because he wasn't sure he liked the change his father was alluding to. "You know we needn't worry, Papa. Only last week after looking over the books, Jarvis said how confident he was about the security of the estate for many years. There isn't much for you to concern yourself over anymore."

"That may be true, but I want you to learn the proper way to run things, Robert. Not the way I've managed it. I've made such a mess of things."

Robert looked away and sighed. He knew where this was going. Although it had been a year, his mother and father couldn't quite seem to move past it.

"Cora," Robert stated plainly. "This is about Cora."

"The right way to run the estate isn't by marrying money."

Robert squared his jaw, suddenly feeling a hard knot of anger in his chest. "I won't listen to mother's words from your mouth."

"These are my words, son…"

"I won't listen to any ill-words about her any longer." He knew his face was flushed and his hands were now clenched into fists.

His father's voice was kind. "I have never had any ill-words for Cora. You know how fond I am of her."

"Fond of her? I should bloody well hope so. She's saved your reputation. She's saved this estate..."

"And I'm eternally grateful to the girl. And to you."

Here, Robert felt a knife in his chest. "Don't be thankful to me. I did what had to be done at the time."

Patrick nodded. "Precisely my point, Robert. It shouldn't have ever gotten to that. By learning now from my mistakes your son won't have to make the sacrifice that you've had to by marrying someone for her money."

Robert fell quiet and calmed himself. He didn't feel like quite the martyr as he once did and as his father had praised him to be this past year. In fact, he felt guilt where he once felt pride. "Don't call it a sacrifice, Papa. Honestly, I'm ashamed."

Patrick looked at him questioningly, "Ashamed?"

"Yes, I'd rather not discuss it."

His father sighed. "Very well, but now you understand why I want your participation. Jarvis can teach you a thing or two, more than I can, for your own son's sake."

Robert flinched a bit at his father's second mention of a son. Patrick seemed to notice because he asked with a still soft tone, "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know."

Patrick raised his brows. "You don't know?"

"It's just..." Robert glanced toward the driver, dutifully looking forward and minding the horses and road, and lowered his voice. "It's been a year."

"A year?"

"A year since we've married and Cora still hasn't...that is…we haven't…" Robert's voice trailed off, him suddenly feeling the very opposite of willing to share.

"Ah, I see..."

"And it isn't..." here he lowered his voice even more, "it isn't from lack of trying."

He heard his father chuckle and lean back in the seat. "Oh my son, you're young. Your wife is still young. It takes patience. In the mean time, enjoy one another. Learn from one another. Marriage is a long business and these early days are essential to understanding one another later."

Robert nodded and sighed, "Thank you, Papa."

Patrick chuckled again, "but do keep trying."

"Papa..."

"In fact, enjoy the trying. Cherish the trying. Try even more."

"Alright, Papa. That's certainly enough vulgarity to be getting on with..."

Patrick's laughter rose and gently fell as he smiled broadly at his son and then adjusted his hat. Robert, embarrassed at his father's unusual vulgarity, mirrored his father by adjusting his own hat and sinking into the seat even further.

After another short time, this time spent riding together in silence, they reached Langley's farm where Jarvis waited, so that they could begin their walk.

"Hello, Jarvis," his father tipped his hat as he descended the carriage and walked toward the agent who took off his hat to greet him.

"Lord Grantham, good morning."

"I've brought along my son. We'll be spending much more time together than we have in the past. I'd like him to begin learning more now; he'll have a son of his own to teach soon," Lord Grantham gave Robert a small, encouraging wink.

"Very good, your Lordship." Here the agent turned to Robert, "Very nice to see you, Lord Downton, and congratulations on your happy news. You and Lady Downton."

Robert furrowed his brow as he shook Jarvis's hand and looked to his father.

"Oh, no, you misunderstand me. Not as soon as all that," Patrick clarified and put his hand on Jarvis's shoulder, guiding him down the worn path that eventually wound its way through several different crops and past one field of black-faced sheep.

Although Robert was interested in learning more, he found it fairly simple to answer most of the questions put before him. He knew from experience that what really confounded him was looking over the books, which in all the hours they spent wandering around, they wouldn't seem to be doing today.

So instead, he happily thought again of Cora and what she was doing without him. At this point she would be finishing the luncheon with Mama and Rosamund. He imagined her sipping small sips of her tea and pressing her lips into a mirthful grin, her face lighting up the way it does. Then as thoughts often do, that thought sparked another. He thought of her face illuminated this morning by the sun filling up her room, the way her eyes sparkled and the dark fringes of lashes. His mind drifted further. He felt her lashes brush against his bare skin, as they did last night in her bed as they lay together. As they lay together, bare, beneath her covers. And still, it drifted further. He saw her milky skin in the moonlit room as he slipped off her gown, her hair falling around her. He heard her sweet gasps and soft moans of pleasure in his ear. He heard his name, breathy, in her voice. He remembered the way her back arched, the way she bit her bottom lip, the way her fingers grasped his arm...And that's when he noticed the other two men were looking at him expectantly.

"Oh, yes..." He stuttered in feign of comprehension.

His father sighed and looked at his pocket watch, "Let us be getting back, Jarvis. It's nearly 3 now."

Robert said his goodbyes to Jarvis, followed his father back to the carriage, and soon he was back in the shadow of the abbey.

"Rosamund, where's Cora?" He asked as he handed his hat, coat, and gloves to a footman upon entering the hall.

His sister, walking from the library, walked toward him. "She went up a moment ago. The last guest only just left, after all. You know how long Mama's luncheons last."

"Hmm, yes. Thank you."

Robert rushed up the stairs and tapped lightly on Cora's door, his thoughts from earlier swirling in his head.

"Cora?" He opened the door and found Cora freshly changed into her housecoat sitting at her vanity. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

She gasped, catching his reflection in her mirror. "Robert!" She stood, faced him, and held the handkerchief behind her back. "You mean to surprise me today!"

Robert walked further into her room. "Cora? Whatever's the matter?"

Cora smiled and shook her head. "What do you mean?"

He stepped closer to her. "You were crying."

She shook her head again. "Oh, Robert," she smiled. Again, she shook her head. She looked away. "It's nothing, really."

Robert closed the gap between them. "Cora? For heaven's sake, what is it?"

He watched her for a moment, her face transform from the grin she wore only a moment ago to something darker. Her eyes searched his own and he noticed her breathing become heavier. "I...I...".

Cora then reached for his hands and determinedly pressed her lips against his own.

Taking him by surprise, he pulled back from her. "Cora?"

"Make love to me."

Robert's heart flipped. His previous thoughts seemingly shouting in his ears. "What?"

"Make love to me," she repeated, pressing herself against him. "Please."

Robert felt her body and saw the longing in her eyes, but he didn't sweep her into his arms and carry her to the bed. He didn't tear off their clothes and take her there, on the settee. No; something wasn't right. Even to his own surprise, he brought his hand to her face and traced his fingers along her cheek. As he did so, he watched her lip begin to quiver. She suppressed the quiver into a tight and forced grin.

"Please, Robert. Just..." He heard her voice choke. "We have to…" Tears brimmed her eyes and he brought his other hand to her face.

And as her tears began to silently fall, Robert brushed the first few away and then pulled her into his embrace, his arms holding her tightly against him, her face burying into the crook between his neck and shoulder.