He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the clear legs of alcohol cling to the sides in the light of the fire. He wasn't sure what his mother had said or done, for Cora refused to discuss it any further. Earlier in her room, she had brushed her tears away after a moment and laboriously grinned up at him, apologizing for throwing herself at him. She assured him he needn't worry and that it was only herself to blame for feeling the way she did. However, he was certain it was his mother's fault Cora stayed in her room all afternoon. She hadn't even bothered giving Mama an excuse, and what was worse, Mama never bothered to ask for one. She silently accepted Cora's absence from the library and drawing room, snapping at Rosamund over trivial things and complaining to his father. Robert couldn't stand it. He couldn't bear to be in his mother's presence without biting his tongue, so he avoided her. But there would be no avoiding her at dinner. He swirled the liquid again, with a silent prayer that it would help.

Robert tilted the glass back, swallowing the liquid in a gulp, and grimaced. He walked from the library and into the great hall, but paused at the foot of the stairs at the sight before him. Dressed in a royal blue gown, his wife glided down, chin high and shoulders back.

"Cora? I assumed you'd be having a tray in your room."

Cora lifted her brows as she came to the bottom of the steps. "Whatever for?"

"Dinner. Mama will be sure to make it a miserable affair," he grumbled more to himself than to her.

Cora pulled a little on the black glove she wore and chuckled, "You say that as if it's something out of the ordinary."

He grinned at his wife who gave a smile in return and followed her into the drawing room.

He watched her perch on the couch next to Rosamund and nod a hello to his father who stood to greet her.

"Of course, what did she expect?" Violet was saying. "The gown was hideous. Some simply refuse to see logic." Here she looked at Cora. "I see you've come down after all."

"There was no reason not to," Cora replied steadily.

"No. There was not." Violet answered slowly. The air in the room grew thick as his wife and mother stared at one another for a moment. Obviously, something had happened earlier, Robert was certain of it.

Rosamund was the one to finally give in to the silence, "I had a letter from Marianne Stratford today. She says her grandmother is still feeling poorly, but has gotten better." Patrick inquired about Marianne's father, Lord Preston, and his mother chimed in something about Lady Preston and that terrible party she gave the season Rosamund came out. As the three of them chatted on about that, Robert sidled up to Cora and leaned near her ear.

"She'll be out for blood."

"Not mine."

"No?" he raised his brows and took a breath. He could smell the familiar scent of the floral perfume Cora often dabbed behind her ear. "In these sorts of moods, she likes to prey on outsiders, you know."

Cora looked at Robert with a shimmer of quiet confidence twinkling in her eyes, "I'm not an outsider."

Robert felt himself nod and, even surprising himself, instinctually reach over and grasp Cora's hand, his heart thumping emphatically. "Of course not. I'm sorry."

"Dinner is served, my lady."

Cora squeezed his hand in return and rose to follow his mother and sister into the dining room.

Dinner was much the same. Cora keeping somewhat more quiet than usual, but having no qualms about rolling her eyes and lifting her glass to her lips at his mother's usual harsh statements.

The rest of the party seemed to be oblivious to the silent battle at the table, and they continued their conversations from before.

"How did the luncheon turn out then?" Patrick peered across the table at his wife and asked politely between bites of food.

Violet lifted her brows and held her utensils still, "Well, it was only a small luncheon. Of course it went well."

"Oh, I agree. It was lovely to see everyone." Rosamund chimed. "You missed Lady Shackleton, Robert. Do you remember her?"

Robert nodded, putting down his fork for a moment, "Philip's mother?"

"Yes."

Patrick nodded, "He's a good chap, Philip. Wasn't he married some time ago?"

Violet snorted, "You were at the wedding, Patrick. Honestly, your memory is horrendous."

"Only lately."

"When was this? I don't remember going." Robert liked Philip. He'd grown up with Philip and attended Eton with him. He knew he had grown very fond of a certain blonde girl, a baron's daughter from Wales, Elisa. She was a sweet girl - quiet and submissive, always wearing a tiny smile on her thin lips. Robert had considered her, but she didn't have the means to support the estate. He looked up at Cora - dark haired, full pink lips, her eyebrow cocked in annoyance - she wasn't anything like Elisa.

"You and Cora were still in France. On your honeymoon. Don't you remember?" Rosamund lifted her chin in reply.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cora lift her head at this mention and take a deep breath in. She didn't exhale.

"Oh, yes. I seem to remember now. Glad she was well."

Rosamund smiled, "Oh, she was more than well, wouldn't you say, Mama?"

Violet didn't look up from her plate.

"She was going on and on about Philip and their happy news. She was practically beaming. I thought it was charming."

Violet shook her head. "She was gloating, Rosamund. It wasn't charming."

Rosamund put her glass down and pursed her lips. "Oh, Mama. You're envious that she had something happy to share while you did not. She got more attention than you and it kills you."

Patrick looked up at his wife. "What was this happy news then, that we're all so envious of?"

Robert knew before his mother answered.

Violet sighed heavily. "Philip and Elisa have had a baby. A boy."

Robert's chest tightened and his fingers ached for a glass with a stiff drink to swirl. He heard muffled sounds of excitement from his father as he swam in his own thoughts. He and Cora were married a solid month before Philip and Elisa, and yet they had been able to conceive and produce an heir. He had not. Cora had not. They had been married for a year and what had he to show for it? His stomach suddenly slugged upside down in a sickish, groaning way that made him feel like he had had taken that drink he so longed for a moment ago.

Rosamund's voice next to him became more clear..."Cora agrees with me, don't you?"

What? What was she talking about? Cora didn't respond.

"Oh? Well, my heavens, how will I manage to conduct myself next time, if even Cora found me rude?" Violet chuckled sardonically and looked over to a footman who stood behind Patrick, disciplined to not look at the family during these "moments of brief disagreement".

"Well, you were. You barely said any sort of congratulations. Lady Shackleton seemed quite put out."

Violet's eyes widened something tremendously. "And why, pray tell, are you so concerned with Lady Shackleton's feelings? What about my feelings?"

Rosamund laughed as Patrick tried to, unsuccessfully, diffuse the situation, for sake of saving the conversation at least until they were in a more private setting. Rosamund ignored the effort.

"Your feelings? What feelings are those, Mama? Anger? Resentment? Envy? All of those were surely present this afternoon."

Violet stared across the table at her daughter and sighed. "Rosamund, you're a woman with a brain. So think. Why do you think Lady Shackleton made sure to announce her news here? Hmm? It was simply to rub it in my face."

"Honestly, Mama…"

"Do you think it any grand feat for a young couple to conceive a child in a year's time? Well it isn't." Here she picked up her fork and knife and resumed her meal. "At least, not for our sort of people."

And as if they were iron filings to a magnet, all eyes were compulsively drawn to Cora, who still held her breath as if waiting to come up to the surface. Beyond that, she didn't react. In fact, she didn't move. She held her fork motionless and stared at Violet, the only person at the table who hadn't looked at her. Robert at once felt the sting of his mother's insult that surely cut Cora more sharply than it did himself. He considered leaving the table, but couldn't seem to move. He thought about bringing up a new subject, perhaps the upcoming fox hunt, but ironically it seemed inappropriate to do so. So he sat, in the roaring silence, waiting for relief. It came in the form of Cora adjusting in her seat and looking down into her plate, indignantly.

Her voice was low. "What do you mean by that?"

Violet moved the vegetable in her mouth and swallowed. "What a delicious plant."

Cora didn't relent. "Violet," her voice held steadily. "What do you mean by saying that?"

"Cora," Violet didn't even look up from her plate, "we mustn't talk about that now."

"Yes, I'm afraid we must."

Mama looked briefly at Cora and put her utensils on her plate. "I think we'll go through now."

"No, no..." Cora held out her hand, pausing the family members who had risen from their chairs to walk into the hall. "We'll not go through until you explain to me what you meant by that comment 'not for our sort of people'."

Violet, standing, heaved a sigh and tossed her serviette onto the table. "I meant exactly what I said, Cora. For most young couples, a child or expecting a child within the first year of marriage is rather common. It isn't something that is so terribly difficult to accomplish. Or it shouldn't be, not in families like ours. So that's all. That's what I meant by 'that comment'. Have I made myself clear or must we all stay here, and like usual," she tossed a look around to the servants standing behind Cora and the rest, then added with an unmistakable bitterness "wait on you."

Cora dropped her hand slowly to the table, eyes on Violet, her corseted chest heaving tremendously in her dress. Violet swept through the room and, as Robert stood by, his family followed her. Their eyes cast down, their mouths held shut, they followed Mama out and into the library.

Cora sat at the table, staring at the eggshell colored cloth silently. Robert didn't know what to do, but held out his hand and lightly touched her shoulder. She flinched at his touch.

"Cora..."

Wordlessly, she stood and flew from the dining room, leaving Robert behind her. He stumbled out into the hall and called her name again.

"Cora?"

She whirled around on the step and looked down at him.

"I'm not discussing what happens in my bedroom with your mother."

Robert's eyes widened. "No, I'd say not..."

"Waiting on me? As if it's something I can accomplish on my own. I think she ought to realize that I'm not refusing you."

He blinked for a moment. "What?"

"She seems to think that the reason there is no heir yet is because of me. Because I've done something wrong or won't 'lie back and think of England.'"

"Cora..."

"Do you want to know what she said at luncheon today? What made me upset? She said to Lady Shackleton, 'of course, this is to be expected, with Robert marrying that American girl.'"

"I'm sure she understands..."

"And do you want to know what upsets me now? That you hear what she says and you say nothing. Do I mean that little to you?"

Dumbfounded by her sudden change in address, Robert stuttered something unintelligible and Cora sighed.

"That's what I thought. Well, Robert, once you've finished your cigars and your brandies I'll be in my room, like a good English wife, waiting to serve king and country. It means nothing else, after all, does it? Nothing does."

Robert called after her as she walked up the staircase, but she didn't turn around.

Robert felt the anger swell in his chest and he moved to the library. Marching in, he didn't wait for his mother to say anything, but instead he nearly shouted at her.

"That was a bit insensitive, don't you think?"

His mother looked up surprised, Rosamund lifted her brows and watched her mother's reaction, and his father held the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"You married that girl for her money, and you say I'm insensitive."

"Violet..." His father tried to intervene.

"Yes, I say you're insensitive!"

"Oh, Robert, what a hypocrite you are."

"Violet," Patrick said again, this time so sternly that Violet looked to him with very wide, incredulous eyes. "Leave it alone."

"You don't have to tell me. I didn't want to discuss it at all, but that girl insisted..."

Robert shouted again, "'That girl' is my wife and your daughter-in-law!"

His father's voice rose once more above the commotion, "Both of you, leave it be!"

Violet looked away with pursed lips and Robert breathed heavily. He turned to leave the room, but stopped at the door. He turned to his mother. "Mama..."

She looked at him with a scowl on her face. He shook his head and rushed from the room and up the stairs to find his wife.