AN: Thank you for all the reviews people are leaving to this story and some of my others. I apologise for not replying individually.

This chapter comes with an M rated warning attached for both sections. I usually try to minimise these sections/spread them out, but what can I say, I blame Cobert! This being the case, I am aiming to post the next chapter midweek since I know M rated things aren't for everyone, before another update next Saturday as normal.

Cobert love to you all.

Chapter 37 – November 1889

Relief washes over her as the turrets of Downton loom into view. Home. She was pleased to see it, and to see Robert's family stood before the doors to greet them. It had been an awfully long journey back given the time of year and the terrible weather, but they had made it. It surprised her slightly that she found the view so comforting.

She had never hated Downton, not at all, she had in fact, always rather liked it. But upon returning to it after being in America she had thought it might take some time to become readjusted to it. It was a pleasant surprise to find that instead, her heart swelled with a sense of comfort and belonging. She felt as though here, her mind might finally be able to recover from the grief. She had been right to insist to Robert that they returned.

The carriage pulls to a stop, the door is opened by a footman and the umbrella is held above her head as she strides across to the doorway where her parents-in-law stand. She is surprised when Lady Grantham steps towards, pats her arms and leans forward to kiss her cheek.

"Welcome home Cora dear." The use of the endearment almost baffles her as much as the kiss. "We're pleased to have you back. I hope it wasn't all too terrible." She shrugs softly as they step into the hall, leaving Robert to greet his father.

"It was as expected. I was there, which is what matters."

"Of course, of course. We have laid tea for you both in the library and then you can go up and change and bathe."

"Robert might want to bathe first, he found the journey back rather terrible." It turned out Robert was not a good traveller at all. The trouble had started on the fifth day of the journey, when it had looked like, briefly, they had avoided the worst of the storms and would be safely back on land in two or three days' time. Unfortunately, this had not been the case. They had awoken in the middle of the night in the early hours of their sixth day at sea as the ship had lurched violently. Moments later, as Robert had unwrapped his arm from around her waist and sat up, he had been sick onto the bedding. His bouts of nausea and seasickness had continued until last night, when finally, the storms had abated as they neared land and his sickness had gone with them.

Robert confirms his preference for tea and they all move into the library. Lord Grantham offers her his condolences now, and checks that the letter he had sent her had reached her safely in America – it had. Conversation turns to the upcoming plans for the festive season and the shoot. Lady Grantham asks about her intentions as regards the mourning and how she wishes to observe that. Cora had not thought much about it, but she had been keeping to black since her father had died. She decides that it would be nice to be back to purple for Christmas at least, given that the rest of the family would not be mourning with her. Lady Grantham seems to think this acceptable and the matter is settled.

The conversation then turns to whether Robert would be happy to have Charles as his valet for a short time since Templeton's mother's health had not improved and during their absence he had handed in his notice. Robert takes the opportunity to suggest that they make Charles his permanent replacement, which Lord Grantham seems to be happy with. It makes Cora smile, Robert had been becoming rather enamoured with the young footman with high aspirations and he had proven himself to highly efficient during their time in America, even Henderson had praised him.

They excuse themselves to their baths soon after that before returning downstairs for dinner at the usual time. The dinner conversation is much the same as it had been at tea. Small, mundane topics of conversation are shared amongst the four of them. Robert shares his thoughts on America and Cora's childhood home and Lord and Lady Grantham bring them up-to-date on local news. The only moment of tension is when Lady Evelyn's pregnancy is mentioned by Lady Grantham but even that passes without any angry outbursts or acerbic remarks. Cora was well aware it was probably the only time the topic of pregnancy would go by without a pointed remark from her mother-in-law, but she would take what she could.

The only moment of surprise the whole day brings is when Robert stands from the dining table and announces that given the terrible crossing they'd had, he thought it best that they both retire to bed early. He doesn't even check for his mother's agreement. It was not a plan that had been discussed between them, and it had certainly not been her intention, but as Robert flicks his gaze quickly in her direction, begging her silently to agree, she simply nods, agrees and allows her parents-in-law to wish her a goodnight before letting Robert guide her up the stairs.

"I want to speak to you."

"Oh?"

"I was going to do so on the crossing back, but I ended up feeling so unwell, the moment never seemed right."

"Can I ask what it's about?"

"I want to get a few more things straight about our marriage." They have reached their rooms and they part before Cora has a chance to ask what. They had made progress with their marriage in America. He had agreed to share her bed to help her sleep and there had been that pinnacle moment, and the ones he had taken her to since in which she had found such complete pleasure in his touch. Robert had admitted himself that her father's death had affected him, not quite how it had affected her, but it had touched him. From that he had decided to embrace her love. All in all, she thought they weren't doing too badly at all. They weren't back to having their full marital relations yet, at his insistence, but despite that she thought they had made progress. She couldn't think of anything that he might want to discuss.

Henderson comes to dress her and she is lost in her thoughts as the maid goes about her work. She finishes and disappears, moments afterwards followed by Robert entering through the adjoining door. She settles onto the chaise, as seemed to be their custom any time he came to speak to her in her bedroom. He settles into the chair opposite, his dressing gown already discarded over the back of it.

"I wanted to ask you about our honeymoon." He must see her frown because he elaborates. "By that I mean, whether it was what you expected as far as the marriage part of it went. I suppose, I'm asking if there were things that you expected to happen that didn't? Or if I was different to what you expected?"

"What's brought this on?"

"Before I answer that, can you say whether it was what you expected? Then I will explain." She had enjoyed it. She loved the sites s, and the architecture, statues and cathedrals. There had been so many different things to enjoy. It had been her last retreat from the realities of Downton and the role she was taking on. They had been her time to sweep Miss Levinson away and that is what she had done. Maybe there were parts of it that had not been wholly as she had expected, Robert had not been quite as attentive as she had been led to believe might be the case given her understanding of the things that were permitted after they were married, but she had put that down to his kind heart and not wanting to rush her.

"Yes, and no. It was all as expected in the general way of things. I thought you might me more, well, attentive, I suppose. By which I am referring to our intimate relationship, rather than our conversations."

"I didn't want to take advantage." She knew that well enough, he had admitted that in this very room when she had raised with him her confusion about the regular routine he had adopted to visit her upon their return to Downton from their honeymoon. "I still don't want to take advantage." She knew this well enough, given their lack of any kind of marital relations since before they left for America. "But I think maybe, in trying not to take advantage I overlooked what your thoughts on the matter might be."

"Is that a nice way of you saying I am too forward and forthright about all sorts of things I shouldn't be?" She thinks back to that night in his dressing room, when she had broached the subject of them trying new things and exploring whatever else there was to explore in their marital bed. Maybe that was what this conversation was about? They had come quite a way with that now, after his recent move into the realms of touching her so intimately and the spiral of satisfaction that she was perfectly happy to be given every night if only he would agree to it.

"You might have surprised me. But no, I mean that I overlooked that aspect of your personality and I pushed it away because I was scared of what it might mean for the future."

"You mean because I love you?"

"Yes."

"So, you avoided me because you felt guilty?" He doesn't need to nod, she can see the truth of it in his eyes, as she knew she would be able to. She shakes her head gently. "As I have said about your guilt before Robert, I don't care. At the risk of repeating myself yet again, I would have married you anyway."

"It wasn't just the guilt." She furrows her brow, sensing that they were about to be on the precipice of Robert being more open with her. America had changed him. Well, no, it hadn't changed him, he was still the man he had always been, but something about it had made him be more in touch with his emotions and more open about them. Watching her father die had been a massive thing for them both, but she was beginning to think it had taken Robert's emotions more by surprise than it had her own. "You know when you said I could come to you whenever you wanted, that you were happy for me to visit you whenever I wanted to?"

"Yes, one of my moments of American forthrightness." He doesn't laugh at her joke and her own chuckle dies in the air before her as his eyes stay cold and calculating in their assessment of her, seemingly wallowing.

"I pride myself on being a gentleman Cora. Long before you made that comment, from almost the first few days of our marriage, maybe even when we kissed in the weeks before the wedding, I knew that if I wasn't careful, I wouldn't be behaving like a gentleman and you deserve a proper gentleman." This was the most open Robert had ever been with her, she wonders for half a second why he had picked this moment, but she wasn't about to question it. Maybe what he had said the other day on the beach was at the truth of the matter – he had decided that death was the only thing to be scared of and he wanted to start living. Maybe he was taking his plans to embrace her love more seriously than she had dared hope. Maybe, (and her heart does quicken at the thought) he was beginning to fall in love with her? Beyond that, at his words, there was something very gratifying about the idea that he had desired her, in the simplest of ways, almost from the start.

"So, I was right the other day on the beach when I said that secretly you can't resist me?" He blushes and looks down, his fingers splaying over his knees. "Since you're admitting this, does this mean you intend to stop trying to resist me? I thought you had some plan to wait a little while yet, before you properly returned to my bed?" He had kept up his promise to sleep beside her on the journey back, but she was still terrified he might give that up once he thought she was through the final stages of her grief.

"I thought you would be horrified by such an admission?"

"Horrified?" She laughs now, openly, for the first time since her father had died. "My proper, well behaved, gentlemanly husband, and the man I love, has just admitted he has to some extent been infatuated with me since our honeymoon, why on earth would I be horrified?" He blushes deeply and looks down, running his hand over his head and ruffling at his hair. She dimly realises that he had not liked being laughed at. She slides off the chaise and moves to kneel in front of him, taking his hands. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed. I know you get very caught up and scared by your emotions sometimes." His eyes finally meet hers. "But Robert, it's like I said before, it's natural, it's normal. I find you attractive, and I desire you. I'm pleased to know that you think the same about me."

"You're beautiful Cora." It wasn't as if she needed any further encouragement, swollen as her heart was for him and deeply flattered by his ungentlemanly admission, but the words seem to flick a switch she didn't know she had, and much like she had that night in his dressing room when words had failed her, she leans up and kisses him.

She pushes her hand up the front of his dressing gown and winds it along the soft skin of his neck and into his hair. He hesitates for a second, but then his mouth gives way beneath her own and his tongue pushes against her own with the insistence that she had only ever felt in some of his more heightened moments of passion. His hands reach forward to steady her, passing around her back to come to rest between her shoulder blades and pulling her upwards off the floor. Their lips separate for a brief second as she stands. She expects him to stand, but his hands have drifted to her hips as she had moved and he now tugs them forwards as he leans back in the seat.

"Sit in my lap, like you did in the dressing room." She didn't need his encouragement to do just that. She gathers some of her nightgown so she can bend her knees properly, and then places a knee on either side of his hips and comes to rest in his lap.

She presses her hands to his chest, and runs her fingers over the triangle of bare skin above his shirt as their lips begin to dance in their practiced routine. His hands rub up and down her sides, his thumbs rubbing along the edges of the underside of her breasts. She can feel her body begin to respond to his touch. Now she knew what it was to come undone to his touch, she seemed to have an even greater reaction to it.

His hands seem to be all over her, and she becomes distracted from recalling how to kiss him as they start a pattern of sweeping down her back to her bottom where he seems to try and pull a little more of the nightgown fabric up to her waist with each attempt. She finds herself sighing inadvertently into his mouth every time he removes his touch just before his fingers find her bare skin. He would be the death of her if he teased her so constantly.

She was getting so used to the infuriatingly teasing that she thinks she accidently bites his lip when on the next caress of his hand around her bottom he doesn't let go. He holds her firmly and pulls her firmly into his lap. She possibly bites him again, she certainly gasps, when she feels his swollen trousers pressing against her. Aside from him actually being inside her, this was the closest she had been to him when he was in that state.

She pushes her hips against him, and then away. She thinks she feels him twitch beneath her, but she isn't sure and before she has a chance to comprehend it, his hands are tugging at her pooled nightgown. She takes the hint and lifts it over her head, dropping it behind her.

He doesn't wait a second before he sweeps his fingers over her breasts just like he had that night in his dressing room. She grips his shoulders to steady herself, her forehead resting against his, her ability to kiss him gone as the flames of desire race through her. He massages both her breasts at once, his thumbs pushing over her nipples and making them hard beneath his touch.

She thinks she has enough control of herself to begin to return to her plan to push her body against his and see if she can work out what exactly she can do to give him some sort of pleasure equal to her own when he removes he drops his forehead from hers and within half a second, she feels his lips replace his fingers on one of her nipples.

She bites down on her lip midway through a long drawn out gasp of surprise and pleasure. She pushes one of her hands up into his hair arching her back to properly get a feel for his mouth on her. The minimal amount of coherent thought she had left is gone when his hand slips under the fabric of her underwear and against the place that was already pounding for his touch.

She lowers her hips down into his touch, desperate for the relief that she knows he can offer her when he pushes his fingers inside her. The wetness that already lingers there strengthens and pulses as his tongue flicks around her nipple and his fingers stroke her in the way he had seemed to manage to perfect in those weeks in America. When his fingers find the spot she likes, she sighs his name somewhere near his ear, and her hand tightens in his hair.

It doesn't take much, the coil inside her was constricting at a rate of knots anyway and now he's finding that familiar pattern she had grown used to. In this position she has an even better ability to adjust the angle of her hips against his hand as well. Her body gives way to his touch and as she does every time her peak crashes over her, she gasps, hums and bites her lip in quick succession.

She slumps against him, the tight grip she'd been clutching at his hair with falling loose. He can feel her pulse racing where her neck is pressed to his cheek. Her skin is gently perspiring and as her heart slows she leans backwards, her wide blue eyes meeting his.

Having her come undone to his touch was something he had observed for a few weeks now, albeit never in this position, but it was the look in her eyes afterwards that was entrancing in a completely different way. Watching her come undone was a boost for his own desires, and never failed at giving him an arousal that took more than deep breaths to remove – he was lucky she had never caught him on one of his trips to the bathroom afterwards. But her eyes, they oozed all that love on top of her pleasure. They look sated and completely satisfied of course, but they also shine in thanks and gratitude; as if in that moment he could do or say the worst thing in the world and she still might be able to forgive him. They seemed to almost be melting as they appraise him.

"Beautiful." She blushes and then giggles softly. He smiles at the response.

"That's the word you uttered when you first took me to my peak." Her eyelashes close slowly over her eyes and she reaches forward to run her thumb along the length of his jaw. Her touch is featherlight and comforting. "Are you finally going to allow it to be your turn?" He is going to say no, his reflex answer whenever she had asked in the last couple of weeks. She seems to anticipate his answer though, maybe his facial expression had given him away, and she tilts her face to the side. Her eyes are even more alluring. His groin tightens, begging for the release that he had deprived it of for so many weeks now. But that wasn't an option, he has said he would give her time, and he didn't think she was recovered enough yet. "Please Robert, I want to let you have the pleasure you've been giving me." He swallows.

She's your wife, and she loves you. I can't think of a more suitable woman in the world for you to share your desires with.

Marmaduke's words swim around in his head. His brother-in-law had advocated compromise. He had advocated the idea that he could avoid adding more to his scaffold of guilt if he gave her some of the things she wanted.

"Marmaduke said that I should let you have your way trying new things." He isn't sure how it had slipped out, he hadn't been intending on telling her about his conversation with Marmaduke. The look of surprise on her face suggests she is more than a little surprised.

"I see. So, I've been a topic of discussion over port and cigars have I?"

"You're angry?" He asks it with the intonation of a question, because he can't tell from her voice if she is angry or just a little incredulous.

"Not exactly. A little surprised that you would discuss such a topic with Marmaduke. Or anyone for that matter, it's hardly something you like discussing."

"I didn't know who else to ask. I just asked for advice. I promise. I would never disclose to anyone any details about what we do together."

"I know." Her eyes are soft again. She runs one of her hands through his hair again. She adjusts her position slightly on his lap, he thinks intentionally, given that she has managed to inch nearer to where his arousal was still very much aware that she was sat almost naked on his lap.

"I was thinking about mentioning it all week on the crossing, but I felt so sick there just wasn't a chance to talk properly. Sat at dinner tonight, I realised if I didn't bring it up tonight, Downton and my parents would overtake me and I might never do it." He laughs softly, this was the truth. He could already feel Downton getting under his skin; his worries about the estate and how his father was still not giving him as much time to learn the ways of it as possible. Then there was his mother, he knew her acerbic remarks would be back soon. He knew once all that happened it would be all too easy to revert to his old ways and lose the closeness he thought he and Cora were starting to find. "That isn't to say I'm going back on what I said before, I won't go back on my plan to wait a little longer before we do this properly Cora."

"I know that too. And it's very sweet. But I do think it's time you taught me something similar to what you've been doing to me." Her cheeks are blushing a soft pink. His need for her races to the surface of his skin, making it prickle with anticipation.

It wasn't just the anticipation of fulfilment and the gratification of his desires by the act of sex. It was the anticipation of that happening at the hands of Cora. There was something intoxicating about the way she looked at him with love in her eyes and affection in her touch. To complete the act of sex with someone other than Cora seemed unfathomable to him now. He wasn't sure if that was the beginning of falling in love, or just the realisation that fulfilling his baser desires was so much easier with a willing partner.

He cups his hands around her bottom and down her thighs, pulling her flush against him. She gasps, emitting a soft puff of air against his face. He finds himself sighing at the feel of her body pressed against his arousal. She begins to move slowly against him, and he can sense that she is unsure whether this is right. He grasps her hips and encourages her to keep moving. Despite the barriers of clothing, the friction is intense. When she starts pushing at the buttons on his shirt and smoothing her fingers over the skin on his neck he holds her hips still against him.

"Cora, we're going to need to move." She shuffles backwards and stands. He takes a second to admire her stood before him almost completely naked. He had never seen her stood naked before, she had always been lying down. She loiters in front of him, chewing her lip. Nervous. He stands, dragging his eyes away from admiring her. "The bed is fine." He removes his clothes; another process he realises he's never done before with Cora so obviously watching him. She's sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers wringing together. "Cora, if you don't want – " Her warm gaze sweeps over him and lingers on his arousal, his words lose the train of thoughts that were forming as he watches the dark, complete blush spread across her cheeks. That very same blush he had seen for the first time at the flower show.

"I do. Please Robert, just help me to learn." Even without her words, he is already moving towards her. The pull of her warm blush and enthralling eyes.

He climbs onto the bed, reversing their usual positions, and sits so his head is against the headboard. She is still watching him, and gently chewing the inside of her cheek.

"Would you be more comfortable if I turned the light out?" He isn't sure what the emotion is that flickers across her face, but it seems to result in her finding the inner strength within her that he so admires because she finds her way across the bed and into his lap, shaking her head at his question.

She finds her rhythm quickly enough, and he settles into the feel of her body moving against his own. Her underwear is a barrier to him being able to feel her softest flesh against his own, but he doesn't remove it. It would be too tempting to just push her backwards and push himself inside her. It had been too long. But tonight, was not the night for that and he needs to maintain some level of control – her undergarments would have to be his barrier of control.

He's debating how exactly to show her what comes next when her hand trails down his front. She uses a single finger, slowly tracing a path with each swirl that seems to be her almost trying to etch herself into his skin. When her hand comes level with his arousal she pauses, her body stopping its rhythm and her finger moving from his stomach to touch him.

She's gentle at first and he remains perfectly still as he absorbs her touch. She traces him slowly, up and down and around and round. It's pleasant and gentle, almost platonic in how non-sensual an action it is, even if it's location makes it far from platonic. He watches her face as she moves her fingers. He can't see her eyes, since she is looking down, but he thinks she is analysing the situation, thinking. He thinks the last time he had seen her look so young and innocent was probably those days in Paris. Even on their wedding night she'd possessed a sort of gritty determination. He leans forwards, tracing his nose down hers. Her eyes flash up to his as he leans in to kiss her.

His ability to continue to kiss her is abruptly lost when she stops her gentle ministrations with her finger and wraps her hand around him. When she squeezes softly, and then a little more firmly, his mouth drops from hers in a murmur of pleasure that he doesn't think she has ever heard. It's not the sound of release – the half moan, half gasp that usually fell from his lips and into her ear. This is a different sound, he recognises it as his murmur of contentment, a noise designed to make her understand that what she has done is exactly what he wants.

"Is that alright?" She was, without doubt, referring to her ministrations. Clearly the sound had concerned her.

"Fine." He leans forwards to kiss the end of her nose. She looks down again, and he briefly thinks she is bemused about what to do next, she chews her lip for a second, but then she moves her hand. A little way down, and then a little way up. She repeats the motion a few more times at a sedentary pace. Her grip could be tighter and her action longer, but she had the right idea, more than the right idea. He stiffens at her touch. This seems to coax her to hold him more firmly and he has to apply his lips to her jawline to stifle his exclamations of pleasure.

He finds the point behind her ear that he had learnt in the last few weeks was enough to bring her over her edge if he kisses it correctly and is rewarded by a soft sigh and the tilt of her head to allow him better access. He can feel her pulse quicken on her neck beneath his lips. He brings one hand up to cup her breast. He presses his thumb over her nipple, feeling it harden beneath his finger was enough to make his groin tighten and his desire flare. His thoughts turn to their moment on the chair earlier and how sucking at them had made her come undone so much faster. As he rubs her nipple around and around, the pace of her hand increases and he gasps a hot breath against her neck.

He releases her nipple, and moves his hand to her thigh, inching it over her soft velvet skin to the fabric of her underwear. Just like earlier he pushes the fabric to the side and presses his fingers to the folds of her pounding centre. She hums a gentle, reassuring noise as he places his thumb over the bud of nerves above the place he can already slip one finger gently inside. For a moment his exploration of her slows her actions; she has to steady herself – her free hand coming to grip his shoulder – and her head tilts backwards. But then, as he had hoped might be the case, his rhythm sets her own body into a process of copying it. If he presses faster and harder inside her, she mimics the action on him.

He tries to keep kissing her, but their attempts at keeping their mouths together fall apart beneath the spells of their respective hands. He should be considering how he was going to manage the impending situation without making too much of a mess, but the time for coherent thought had vanished long ago. In her moments of complete abandonment, she teases him without knowing it, her hand moving aching slowly but so exquisitely over him before she returns to the fast pace that matches his swirling. He kisses whichever bare parts of her body his lips fall onto; her face, her neck, her breasts. He manages to push a second inside her and with each press of his fingers he feels her becoming wetter, he feels the walls of her body becoming looser and suppler. It's the feel of her intimate fragrance on his fingers, combined with watching her as she rocks softly against his hand – encouraging him to the places she likes best – that brings him ever closer to the ultimate completion.

"Robert…" He knew there would come a point where she wouldn't be able to hold on and that this moment would also make it hard for her to maintain the ministrations she was really beginning to master. He doesn't care, her head tips backwards and she bites down on her lip as she gasps seconds after uttering his name. Her hand does fall from him, but the feel of her wetness flooding over his fingers and her body contracting around them is quite enough to be processing and quite enough to make him want her more than ever. He wouldn't go back on his promise to wait though, but there was a way to make this a little easier for himself. He takes his fingers from inside her and deposits the nectar of her being on his erection. As she opens her eyes, he takes her hand and returns it to where it had been before. She frowns when her hand comes into contact with him.

"Is that…?" He simply nods and she blushes.

"It will make it easier." She nods and then chews her lips. As he had come to expect though, she takes it all within her stride. She grasps hold of him and returns to the rhythms she had found earlier. With the added lubrication it was easier to imagine he might be inside her. It wasn't the same, but having her sat on his lap, her hand grasping him firmly and her eyes wide as she watches him, he knew he could manage it, easily.

He reaches down to take her hand to show her with his own how to guide her thumb over his tip with each of her attentions. She giggles at one point, maybe amused by the feel of him. He fixes his gaze on her breasts as they move with each of her movements and returns to his earlier fascination with hardening her nipples. Her rhythm increases in pace and he knows that he was almost there now. His groin is tightening to the point of no return.

He leans forward to capture her nipple between his lips. He sweeps his tongue around it, feeling its shape and tracing his tongue from the pointed tip to the soft swell that gives way to the velvet flesh of her breast. Entranced as he is by flicking at her nipple, listening to her sighs in response to this and the feel of his hand mimicking almost what he feels inside her, he misses the slight movements of her body. It's not until the wet fingers of her other hand descend on the tip of his erection, swirling around and around as her other hand continues his pulsating movements, that he dimly realises she must have licked her fingers during his distraction. He's a little more prepared when her fingers disappear, and then return a second later, wet once again. It was entirely too much for him to hold out any longer.

"Cora…" To her credit she doesn't stop as he stiffens completely. He manages to clasp her hand with his own just in time and cover his tip with their joined hands, capturing the essence of him. It's only then that she gasps. She glances down, blushes and then starts to giggle softly.

"That could have been messy." He has to laugh.

"It still is, a little bit." She seems to appraise the situation before she nods in agreement and then starts to giggle again. He isn't sure what makes him lean forward and silence her giggles with a kiss, but he does.

They separate and with more giggles on her part they disentangle themselves from each other and move in the direction of the bathroom to clean themselves up. He watches her in the mirror as they stand at the sink. She seems to almost glow in her sated state.

How he had ever managed to control himself, why had even tried, was beyond him now that they are here. Marmaduke must have thought him such an idiot. He was an idiot. There wasn't a more beautiful woman in the world, he knew that. He had been an admirer of her eyes since their first meeting. He was a fool, and he had been blind, and stupid. He had been too governed by his upbringing which had only ever been about being an Earl. Never had he been taught anything remotely significant about marriage. Marmaduke had been right – the upper classes and their understanding of sex was poor. It was without rules, without class and there wasn't a more suitable person in the world than one's spouse to explore it with.

They climb back into bed once they've found their abandoned clothes. He doesn't hesitate in shuffling across the bed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back to rest against his chest – the bodies cradled together. He kisses the back of her neck.

"Goodnight Cora, sleep well."

"Goodnight Robert, I love you." He had grown used to hearing her utter those words as they turned the light out, it was natural and calming. Maybe one day he might be able to say them back? The answer to that question seemed to lean more towards the positive every time he asked himself it. But he still wasn't sure how exactly he would know and that was definitely not something he could ask for advice about. He couldn't risk that getting back to Cora – to get her hopes up would be the worst thing he could do.