As the carriage bounced back along the road toward Downton again, Robert couldn't help but give a sigh in relief. He'd done it. He'd managed his first real day as the Earl of Grantham. True, Jarvis spoke to him a little more slowly than he ever did with Papa, and yes, he insisted they wait until Murray came to the house tomorrow to look over the books, but it was over and Robert didn't feel like it was a complete waste of Jarvis's time. However, whatever relief he felt was only due to the day being over. The stress of tomorrow still gurgled in the bottom of his stomach. With another small sigh, he pushed these thoughts aside and focused on the chill of the autumn air cutting through his woolen coat, dark clouds looming overhead.

"It will be a rough winter," Jarvis said in such a way that it seemed he had been reading Robert's mind. Robert hummed in reply and fiddled a bit with the cuff of his coat sleeve. He looked down at his actions, realized he was forming a nervous habit and he stilled his hand. "It was the same last winter. Poor Moore lost nearly half of his flock. Lucky you'd married Lady Downton that summer or he'd had to give it up. Though, I should say Lady Grantham now."

Robert's ear caught the words, but his mind couldn't make sense of them. "What do you mean? How did my marriage help Moore?"

He noticed the way Jarvis looked over his expression, and the way he looked out across the fields before answering. "You know how your papa was," he said quietly. Then resuming all formality again, "Lord Grantham cared for his tenants, my lord, nearly as much as the estate itself. He wouldn't have them losing their lots. But it can hurt an estate to be lenient with payments. Your marriage absolved the debts, from those farms and your father's own personal debts, of course."

Robert bristled. "I'm sorry, Jarvis, if I don't catch your meaning. Is it so wrong to have faith in those who farm our land? The tenants and families who've been here for generations? Surely they mean something."

"Of course, my lord. They do." Jarvis fell quiet. He straightened in his seat and peered up at the abbey as it came into view. Rays of the sun fought between the clouds, casting beams of light here and there, highlighting the stones and casting stern shadows. The house almost seemed golden as it stood proudly, tall above their heads. "As does Downton."

Robert looked at Jarvis. He watched as he nodded and climbed down from the carriage pulling a bag after him. "We'll look over the books tomorrow. You've only had one day, my lord, but you'll understand more in time. Your father had great faith in you, as do I."

Robert smiled, nodded, and thanked Jarvis. He climbed down from the carriage himself. He stood on the step as Jarvis took his leave climbing into his own carriage and riding home again, only to be back tomorrow. "You've only had one day." Robert hated the way he said that, like he was some sort of child, but then he knew it was true. All those years of following his father and talking with tenants were like a game compared to what he'd done today. The figures and places he had to memorize and familiarize himself with. It was beginning to give him a headache.

Upon entering the house, he gave his gloves, hat, and coat to a footman. He was relieved to see he was alone in the Great Hall. There was no Mama or Rosamund to peer at him curiously. He was even happy to find that Cora was not down. He knew she'd do more than just peer. She'd outright ask. Quietly, he retreated upstairs, silently so he wouldn't be noticed. He needed just a small moment to himself before the barrage of questions were thrown at him about his day.

He rounded the corner to his room and spotted Perkins in the doorway of his wife's. She was speaking in hushed tones. "I'll bring up some toast, my lady," she was saying as she backed out of her room. "It'll help to have something to nibble on."

Nearly against his will, Robert drew closer and closer. Though he had wanted solace he couldn't help but see the same little smile on both Cora and Carson's mouths dance across his memory. He drew closer until the maid nearly bumped into him as she turned to retrieve the toast.

She gasped from what seemed like surprise and embarrassment. "My apologies, my lord." She bobbed her head and wiped her hands on the front of her apron nervously. My, but she was skittish.

"Never mind, Perkins. Did Lady..." He cleared his throat, "that is, has she not had luncheon?" He stumbled over the words, suddenly realizing he felt just as awkward about her new title as the servants.

Perkins looked slightly confused and alarmed, but answered slowly with what seemed like a carefully chosen response. "I am bringing up a small bite to eat. Her Ladyship missed tea."

Although he nodded, he was not satisfied. "Is she ill?"

The maid's face fell slightly and Robert realized that he had never really looked at her face for long before. Her curly blonde hair fell awkwardly over her hazel eye, though the rest was covered modestly with the white bonnet that as part of their uniform. Her skin was pale. Not a milky, creamy pale like Cora's, but rather pale in a way that suggested she may have been a sickly child. Though how old was she now? By the looks of her face, she couldn't be older than Cora. "How do you mean, my lord?"

"You were saying that it would help her. Help her in which way?"

Perkins opened and closed her mouth a bit before saying, "It's to help her feel better, my lord."

He couldn't control his questioning at this point. He raised his brows briefly at the irony. But then curiosity claimed him again,"Better? Then she is ill."

Again Perkins opened and closed her mouth, and frankly she looked a little ill herself.

"Robert?" His mother's voice and sure-footed steps sounding through the hall startled him a bit, and he looked behind him as she approached them. She waved some small papers in front of her as she nodded a quick hello to he and the blushing maid standing next to him.

"You're back." She stated the obvious.

"Yes, Mama..."

"Perkins, is Lady Grantham asleep? I don't want to disturb her if she's resting." She flicked the papers again and glanced at the door to Cora's room.

Robert couldn't hide the shock on his face at his mother's words. She called Cora Lady Grantham? Willingly?

"No, she isn't asleep, my lady..."

"Why?" He spat the word before he realized what he had said. His mother peered at him, nose upturned, and Perkins, poor Perkins, was beginning to back away slowly.

After a meaningful expression, Violet turned back to Perkins. "Thank you, Perkins." The maid seemed to run from their presence.

Robert felt the irritation in his throat. "Do you mind telling me what exactly is going on?"

His mother shook her head a bit before speaking. "That maid is as timid as a mouse. It's a wonder Cora hasn't scared her off."

Robert touched his mother's hand as she reached for the knob to Cora's bedroom. He looked at her severely, with an obvious perplexed expression painted on his face. After studying him a moment, his mother sighed and dropped her hand. Robert continued.

"Cora's being brought toast at 3 in the afternoon, Carson is the cheeriest I've ever seen him, and you're not fighting tooth and nail with my wife. Something is amiss and I'm afraid I'm the last one to know."

Violet looked Robert over from head to toe and flicked those papers again. "How should I know? Perhaps they eat toast at 3 in the afternoon in New York. And fighting tooth and nail?" She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "I never fight tooth and nail with anyone."

"Really?"

"Really. Now if you'll please, Robert, I have these applicants to discuss with Cora and I would rather it not take all afternoon." With that she pushed past Robert and through Cora's door, not bothering to knock, and closed it soundly in Robert's face. After a moment he found himself still staring at the white door. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, relishing in the pressure he applied, and with a sniff marched to his own door. He wouldn't do to be standing there like an imbecile when Perkins came back up with the tea...and toast.

Not bothering to call up Carson, he removed his jacket and sat in his chair. The curtains had been opened wide and those intermittent bright rays of afternoon sun danced across the grounds in spite of the clouds. He rested his head back against his chair. He closed his eyes. Happily he could hear the songs of several birds through the glass window, and he tried to name them, but couldn't. The muttering of voices interfered with his concentration. He sighed, miffed, but then opened his eyes at the words he deciphered.

"You haven't told Robert, then?"

Robert stayed as still as possible, focusing all of his senses on hearing these words better, more clearly. He glanced over to the dividing door between this and Cora's room. Open. Barely open, but enough so that they sound of Violet and Cora's low voices drifted through her door and into his quiet space now.

"No. After the doctor today, though, I feel more confidant in telling him. I couldn't bear to tell him sooner, to be safe. Not after everything."

Robert was listening so hard now he had to remind himself to breathe in.

"That's very considerate, my dear, but perhaps it's time now. It won't do to have him learning of it last of all. Men are more sensitive than they allow." There was a low chuckle. "Especially our Robert. Yes, better to tell him now. Now before the baby tells him!"

Robert nearly fell out of the chair. His heart pounded. He could hear his mother laughing still at her own joke, Perkins entering with the tea and toast, and then the sound of spoons clinking against porcelain. Cora's soft laughter permeated his room. Cora. He grew warm as he thought of his wife, his darling wife, smiling and laughing and...baby. Baby?

Good God. A baby.