He hesitated for a moment before knocking gently at her bedroom door. Although it may not have appeared as though Cora would want to see him or to continue the discussion, Robert had learned that it was far better to follow her than to give the impression that he didn't care to resolve the conflict.

He pushed open her door and entered, "Cora?"

She stood at her mirror slipping on her dressing gown as Perkins gathered her royal blue dress and undergarments off of the floor. When she saw him, she gave a small sigh and turned to her maid. "Thank you, Perkins. Good night." Perkins bobbed a small, polite curtsy. "Good night, my lady." She walked past Robert, glancing upwards at him briefly, and Robert got the distinct impression that Cora had been talking to her about him.

Robert turned his attention back to his wife. She sat down at her vanity and picked up a bottle of lotion, but didn't open it. She held it there, in her lap, her gaze in its direction but a thousand yards beyond it.

He stepped closer, "Cora..."

Here she looked up at him through her mirror and shook her head slowly, "No, Robert..."

He interrupted her, "If you'll only listen; I..."

Cora turned in her chair and tilted her head, "Robert..." it came out as more of a sigh than an address, "please, don't explain or apologize. You've done nothing wrong."

Robert felt confused. She was so angry only a moment ago, and he did indeed feel as if he were in the wrong. He shouldn't have remained silent.

"No, you were right." Robert walked over to where Cora sat, sitting on the edge of a seat nearest her. "I shouldn't have let Mama speak to you that way."

Cora shook her head, "Don't be silly, Robert. What I expected of you would be disrespectful to her, and I can't ask you to do that. She is your mother, after all. We must respect our parents." She looked down again at her lap for a moment and then up into his eyes. He noticed again how brilliantly blue hers shown and his heart skipped a beat in his chest.

"I'm sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Robert. But the awful truth is that I..." here she trailed off for a moment and looked down again. He watched her hands as her fingers moved to her rings, the rings he gave her, and turned them on her finger. "Well, after a year together...I...I still feel as if I'm not accepted as part of your family."

"Cora, no..." Robert inched closer to her, leaning toward her, and extended his hand to touch her wrist.

She broke away from him, took the lotion from her lap and turned back to her vanity to place it among the other bottles of lotion and scent. After setting it cozily among the others, she continued to gaze at it, and spoke more softly, "And, you see, a baby...if we could only have a baby perhaps then I'd feel that I belong. At least to someone...".

Robert grasped her hand and covered it with his own. "You do belong. You're my wife. We belong to each other, Cora."

Cora gave an appreciative grin and tilted her head. "Please don't, Robert. It isn't your fault and so you needn't strive to make amends. There are no amends to be made. I know you care, in your own way." She shook her hand a little in his and looked away. "I know you mean to make me happy."

He watched her expression darken into something melancholy and despondent, as if the thought running through her mind completely contradicted the words that she spoke.

"But you aren't."

She looked up again at Robert and stared into his eyes for a moment, looking from eye to eye, reading his expression of concern until at last she sighed again, forced a smile, and looked down at their hands before looking back up to him. "Things will look better in the morning."

She pulled her hand gently from his grasp and looked in her mirror at her reflection, "I'm afraid I'm quite tired."

Robert nodded and stood up, "Of course." Disheartened, he started for the dividing door, but stopped. The image of Cora's lovely features painted with loneliness and despair appeared in his mind for a moment. He turned back around and walked to her. She looked up from her seat at the vanity as he approached her, "I want you to know that you're right. I do care, Cora." It came out barely above a whisper. Here, he reached out and caressed her cheek, relishing in the feeling of her velvety soft skin against the backs of his fingers. "I do care for you. Very much."

"Robert?" Her voice was small and hopeful. Her slender form breathed heavily in anticipation of an answer to the question she had laden in his name.

He knelt before her and his hand found its way to her hair. He pressed his lips against hers softly and slowly, pouring every emotion he felt into the kiss, trying to communicate in his actions the depth of his feeling for her that he couldn't seem to communicate in words.

At last, the kiss broke. Robert looked over his wife's face. Her eyes searched his own for a moment before he felt her lips on his once more, this time with more of a hunger.

Feeling her desire, he deepened the kiss, pulling her body close to his own and holding it tightly.

They broke apart again, both heaving heavy breaths full of longing, their foreheads resting against one another's. With his eyes still closed, he felt her nose against his own and her breath against his skin.

"I love you, Robert."

He opened his eyes and looked at her, putting both of his hands around her face and began to kiss her again, furiously, feeling as though his heart would escape his chest if he did not. His hands slowly drifted from her head to her waist, his fingers fumbling with the ties to her dressing gown and the soft, thin fabric of her nightgown underneath.

He was aware of her hands, caressing his neck and touching the stiff white color of his dinner shirt, as he managed slowly to remove her dressing gown. After relieving her of it, he began to remove his own clothes.

"But your coat will get dirty..."

Robert laughed a little as he threw his coat upon the floor, "Carson will tend to it."

She smiled and kissed him again before reaching down to his shirt to help untie and unbutton his bow tie, waistcoat, and shirtfront.

He watched her face as she worked, kissing her again and again when she had finished and he had slipped off his many pieces of clothing, one by one onto the floor.

She stood before him, then, drawing her nightgown above and over her head and also dropping it onto the floor.

He looked over her bare body, and stood up to meet her, losing his pants along the way.

He held her close to him. The feel of her skin pressed against his own excited him even more.

Falling into the bed, smiling against her lips, he felt now more than ever how much he truly loved this woman. He opened his eyes and looked at her beneath him. Her eyes looked into his own, her hands brushed his hair back upon his head, and her lips curved into the sweetest smile of pure contentment as he bent down, kissing her again. "My darling," he whispered against her neck. He could smell the familiar scent of her perfume and it comforted and delighted him. "My dearest one," he whispered against her cheek. He felt her smile and he stared into her eyes again, his heart feeling a happy heaviness he had never before felt. He would do anything for her. He would protect her from anything and go to any extent to make her happy. There was no one in this world with whom he would rather be. Damn all the other considerations before her, damn his mother's comments, and damn the reasons he married in the first place. He couldn't believe how incredibly blessed he was to have her in his life, and in his arms. He bent down to her lips, "Cora, my love."

Robert could hear the morning songs of the earliest birds as he stretched a little in the bed. At his movement, he heard a small moan beside him and felt the warmth of his wife's bare body adjust next to him, her head moving slightly upon his shoulder. He opened his eyes in the still dark room and smiled, kissing the top of Cora's head. Happiness overwhelming him, he closed his eyes again and began to drift back to sleep when a knock startled them both.

Cora lifted her head and looked around. Another knock at the door and with this one, the door began to open and Perkins's voice rang out. "I'm sorry, my lady, but..."

"Perkins? What is it?"

"Her Ladyship and Carson are looking for Lord Downton." Robert couldn't help but detect a worry and panic in her voice.

Cora did as well and sat up, pulling the bedclothes up against her.

Robert pulled in a breath and responded, "I'm here, Perkins. Is everything alright?"

"It's His Lordship, my lord. You must get up, quickly. He's not well."

Robert's heart stopped suddenly and Cora looked down at him with alarm in her eyes. He watched as she scrambled out of her bed and threw on her dressing gown, tossing Robert his underthings. For some reason, he couldn't seem to move.

"Robert, quickly, it's your father. Quickly! Carson will have your dressing gown. Go, darling!"

He felt himself move from her bed and into his dressing room, where Carson hurriedly dressed him more appropriately. Soon he stood in his parents' sitting room, his mother in her dressing gown clutching a handkerchief, Cora, also in her dressing gown and nightgown sitting next to his mother, and Rosamund, her scarlet curls cascading down her shoulder, weeping quietly. He looked over to Williams, his father's valet, when his mother addressed him.

"I'm glad he rang for you, Williams. Thank you." Her voice was sincere and a bit shaky. She dabbed the handkerchief a little under her nose and lifted her chin up and away from the others. He watched as Cora, her eyes full of concern, covered his mother's hand with her own. His mother patted Cora's hand in thanks.

He looked up as he heard Dr. Warren step in, his face downcast.

"Dr. Warren?" His mother's voice, although shaky earlier, held steady.

The doctor slowly shook his head. "He's unconscious now. I'm afraid I don't believe he'll come out of it."

Rosamund sniffled louder, "Oh, Papa."

The doctor went on to say more, but Robert didn't need to hear more. Wordlessly he turned from the others and made his way down the hall. He wandered toward his father's room and quietly pushed open the door. The room was still dark, although the sun was rising now - the curtains still drawn. The candles by his father's bed flickered as Robert looked down on his face. Proud, strong Patrick Crawley, Earl of Grantham. Here he lay, unresponsive to his surroundings, his left eye and the left side of his mouth drooping grotesquely, his brow seeming to be contorted with pain. Robert sat in the chair near his father's bed and stared. He didn't feel the need to say anything. What was there to say? That he was afraid? That if he died, Robert would be earl and it wasn't something Robert was prepared for yet? No. There was nothing to say that his father didn't already know. He had that way about him. He could look at someone and nod, and without having to say a word, communicate all that needed to be said.

So Robert sat in silence with his father. He sat in silence until he became aware of his mother standing near him, Carson standing behind her.

"Robert, we tried to fetch you earlier."

"I was with Cora."

"Mmm," his mother hummed. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "He was very proud of you. Very proud." She patted his shoulder and rubbed it a bit before sniffling. "And so am I."

Robert looked down and nodded, "Thank you, Mama."

"Now, go with Carson and get some rest. I'd like some time alone with your father."

"Of course, Mama." He stood and kissed her cheek before leaving the room, Carson following behind him. He stopped outside in the hallway, walking to the balcony to peer down into the great hall.

"Would you like me to bring up something for you to eat, my lord? Or would you prefer to rest?"

"I think I'll rest, Carson. Thank you. I'll ring for you in an hour."

"Very good, my lord."

Robert looked back down into the great hall, counting the family crests and shields along the balcony, stopping at his mother and father's. His eyes went to the portraits on the wall of his ancestors, the earliest earls who came before him. Was this how they all felt? It was an overwhelming feeling of grief and apprehension. As a boy he always longed for the day that he would become earl, but now that it had arrived, he wasn't so sure.

"Robert?"

He looked up to see Cora walking toward him slowly. She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it slightly. "Robert, I'm so sorry."

All he could do was nod before moving past her in the direction of his room.