AN: I can only apologise for last week. I promised another update and then you didn't even get the regular one. To those of you that reached out concerned, I'm absolutely fine, my life is just getting in the way. So, to be fair to all of you, I am going to take updates back to every 2 weeks. I'm frantically trying to pen the last three chapters, so if I slow the updates down now, I might avoid a massive gap for you all as I try to get them written. I am sorry.

Please, please review and leave your thoughts for this story. The more reviews I get the easier it is to write some more.

Cobert love to you all.

Chapter 38 – November 1889

He awakes to an unfamiliar noise.

He squints against the shock of waking, before slowly easing his eyes open. He glances about him, confused by the unfamiliar surroundings. He relaxes when he recalls he is in Cora's bedroom, and they are now back at Downton.

The strange grating noise interrupts his thoughts again and he turns towards it. Cora is still slumbering beside him, but on the other side of the bed, in front of the fire a figure sits. He sighs to himself. Of course, it was the kitchen maid come to do the fires. It was no surprise that on his first night sleeping in her bedroom here that it had woken him. Unusual noises always interrupted his sleep. There wasn't a fire in his dressing room to be lit and it had been almost a year now since he had lived on the other side of the house, he'd forgotten the silent workings of so many of their servants.

He should probably return to his own room, once the maid has done her job obviously, he didn't want to draw attention to himself now. Although she had probably seen that there were two people in the bed – one would have to be blind not to. He glances across at Cora again, careful not to move too much in the bed and draw attention to himself.

He had got used to watching her sleep during their time in Newport. He had let her fall asleep most nights before making his trips to the bathroom as necessary. On returning he had always taken a moment to admire her slumbering form.

He knows he should be mildly embarrassed about what they had done last night. The proper way to behave had been ironed into him since the moment he had started to understand the world around him, and last night had not been the proper way to behave. It was not fulfilling his duty to Downton. He resists the urge to sigh, the maid was still crouched on the floor, and instead turns over and pushes his face into the pillow.

His duty felt more and more like the lines around it were blurring. Which came first: his duty to Downton or his duty to Cora as his wife? Then there was the fact these two duties overlapped somewhere in the middle, forever entwined. Part of his duty – to have an heir – was also part of Cora's duty and surely by making Cora happy he had a better chance of upholding his other duties to Downton?

He thought when he had married Cora that he had done the largest part of his duty to Downton. He hadn't realised that he had frayed the very edges of what duty was and instead of feeling the calm brought about by success, he seemed to have expanded the meaning of the word and gained an additional collection of more duties. Maybe, in reality, the easy part was done. Maybe from now it was just going to be more and more duty. His head swirls with annoying thoughts and he closes his eyes to try and push them away.

When his thoughts become coherent again he opens his eyes to more unfamiliar sounds. His mind takes a minute to process that the room is lighter, and the sounds are not the kitchen maid leaving the bedroom (and his cue to return to his own room). The noise is the curtains being pulled open, and trinkets being arranged.

He curses internally. It was Henderson. He must have fallen back to sleep.

If his mind had been conflicted before about his duties, his loyalties, his role as a husband and his role as Lord Downton, things were about to reach a new level. Word would reach his mother before breakfast, that he had been found this morning in Cora's bed – nothing good could come of that. Cora begins to stir beside him and he reaches across the bed to find her hand as she awakes. He doesn't even bother to acknowledge Henderson.

She turns over, her eyes slowly flickering open and meeting his. He sees the smile on her lips reach her eyes as she meets his gaze with her sleepy eyes.

"Morning." This was just how they had started each of their mornings since he had started to share her bed. A gentle greeting, maybe a kiss and then a little discussion about the day before they separated and got ready for the day. There had not been a single occasion in which Henderson or Carson had entered a bedroom without them first being rung for. It was highly irregular and extremely problematic. He sees the moment she realises they are not alone in her eyes, as a clink of the second set of curtains gives Henderson away. She sits up suddenly. He squeezes her hand and shakes his head softly, trying to warn her not to get cross. "Henderson, what are you doing in here? I haven't rung for you."

"I'm sorry m'lady but it is a long time past your usual time to ring for me, I came to check you were alright."

"Please don't come until I ring for you in future. Please go and fetch my breakfast tray, and knock before you re-enter."

"Yes m'lady." The maid disappears out the door. Cora turns to him with a huff.

"She's lying. I reckon your mother has got her back on her spying missions now we're back under her roof."

"It might have been a genuine mistake." Cora is already shaking his head, and he doesn't really believe his words either. His mother was capable of almost anything. No doubt it had only taken her maid to mention that Lady Downton had not rung for Henderson yet and neither had Carson been called, for their little secret to be a secret no longer. "I better get up. Today is going to be a long day."

"I'm sorry. I've just made life terribly complicated for you. If I had known – "

"Don't apologise Cora. We made the decision to share a bed together and we did it for the right reasons. It was what you needed when we were in America. I promised and I do genuinely try not to break those." She smiles softly for a second.

"I know. But I'm sorry nonetheless." He climbs from the bed, and takes his dressing gown from the back of the chair. He is almost at the dividing door when she speaks again. "Do you regret it now? Sleeping in here with me? Or last night? Or both?"

"Why on earth would I regret it?" There was nothing about last night that he regretted. It might have confused his emotions and resurrected all these questions about duty and marriage, but he did not regret it.

"So, you don't?"

"No."

"Good, because neither do I. I enjoyed it, last night I mean…and I like waking up to see your face." He returns her smile and then opens the dividing door. He isn't surprised to find Carson is already waiting for him in the dressing room. It was late, and he might well have come up looking for him as Henderson had claimed she had done for Cora. Carson was likely to have done it out of genuine concern rather than to snoop though.

"Good morning m'lord."

"Morning Carson." They begin the process of undressing before they begin the more complex process of putting on his clothes for the day. When he catches his valet's eyes in the mirror he takes the opportunity to speak. "Carson, I think I can trust you."

"Completely my lord."

"Well, I think there might be some gossip about this morning downstairs. If asked – "

"You don't have to ask me to be discreet my lord. I serve you, nobody else. Your secrets are safe with me." The man is sincere, he holds his gaze in the mirror. Robert wonders briefly if he might have found an ally. Or at the very least, someone who was not going to be spying on himself and Cora. His promises of discretion would possibly not stretch to his father – given that he was actually Carson's employer – but he supposed they were safe from everyone else.

"Thank you." They finish the arduous process of getting him ready for the day and he heads down the stairs to the dining room. If he had expected the gossip of the servants' hall to have escaped his father, he was mistaken. His father is just finishing up his breakfast as he enters. He immediately dismisses Peters.

"It's not like you to be tardy Robert."

"No, I apologise. It must have been all the travelling."

"Lying won't serve you well either Robert." He swallows as he piles some bacon and eggs onto his plate. "Don't let either the tardiness or the reason for it happen again. It isn't a good idea to become a topic of gossip downstairs and it definitely will not serve Cora well."

"It won't happen again Papa." Which meant he had already let it happen again, because he was lying. With Carson on their side and an earlier alarm on Cora's little clock they could get away with it. He wasn't going to give in so easily. Cora was his wife – if he couldn't share her bed and offer her comfort when she needed it, then who was supposed to? He would not abandon her. She had nobody else here, and she had given up her life for him. For him to wake a few minutes earlier every day was a small concession in comparison.

The rest of his breakfast passes in peace. He heads for the stairs afterwards to get his coat and hat; a morning walk would clear his head and reduce his annoyance. Maybe he might even be able to find Cora to join him.

His thoughts are short lived when on the fourth step he hears footsteps crossing the hall.

"Ahh, Robert, I want to speak to you." He rolls his eyes and turns on the stairs. It probably would be better to get it out the way anyway.

"Yes Mama." He turns and trails her back across the hall to the drawing room. She shuts the door behind him.

"You can't be at any loss to know what this is about." To deny it would only make the whole debacle last longer. "I will be speaking to Cora about it later, but I have to say, I blame you. You are not a farm hand Robert, you are Lord Downton, and this sort of behaviour is beneath you." He is tempted to roll his eyes but he refrains from it. The whole topic was already making his anger flare. "I suppose America went to your head, but you are back in England now and you must behave properly. It can be overlooked, as a minor incident if it doesn't happen again." He isn't sure what makes his fist clench and his anger flare. It might be the way she spits the word 'America' into the air as if it is infectious, but it could just as easily be the fact that she seemed to be threatening him – her grown son. Or maybe it was simply the fact he was not planning on breaking his promise to Cora and sleeping in his dressing room, and thus this battle was best fought now. He would have to defend the choice eventually, and since his mother was so keen on spying on Cora, why not defend it now?

"Thank you for your input Mama, but it was not an 'incident', I have slept the night in Cora's bed before." Her eyes narrow, and she shakes her head. "And for your information, I'm quite capable of deciding what is best for my own marriage, thank you. And frankly, it's none of your business."

"I beg your pardon."

"I said, it's none of your business."

"Robert, there are parts of your marriage that are none of my business, but this is not one of them. You have made yourself a topic of gossip downstairs, in my house."

"I don't care Mama! Don't you see? Cora is my wife, I have a duty to her. I owe her a great deal, I owe the servants' nothing."

"You have a duty to care for her and provide a home for her. That does not involve sharing her bed."

"We also have a duty to produce an heir. The last time I checked you were rather desperate about that and it won't happen unless I share her bed."

"Don't try and be clever with me Robert. You know as well as I do, that producing an heir and being found asleep beside your wife are two entirely different things."

"Maybe I don't think they are."

"Well if you do, it's a recent revelation. No doubt I have your mother-in-law to thank for that. Ghastly woman." He was not about to correct her. If she wanted to blame Mrs Levinson, she could, it would be much better than her finding out it had been a decision he had reached almost entirely on his own.

"Come on Mama, you know as well as I do that the world is not black and white. Do you really think every couple in the aristocracy sleeps in separate bedrooms?"

"I wouldn't know. It is not a suitable topic of conversation. It is only a discussion for gossip."

"Well then, surely there is gossip about one couple or another?"

"There may well be, but other couples do not concern me. You do. It is not the right path for you and Cora to take."

"That is not your decision to make." His mother sighs heavily. She appraises him slowly, narrowing her eyes. He watches as she swallows away her anger. He begins to twitch slightly, this would only mean the serious part was coming.

"You won't help her by pursuing this Robert." Her voice is calm, exactly how he had anticipated it to be, slow and measured. She looks at him imploringly, and he knows whatever she is about to say will be difficult to rebuke. "You might not care about being a topic of conversation below stairs and it will hardly affect your character or your standing in this house. But think about Cora, she is already fascinating for them, with her accent and her American ways, imagine the things they might say if they all know she lets you sleep in her bed. By doing what you think is the right thing by her, you might be making life harder for her without realising it."

"Any servant caught saying anything against Cora is to be dismissed. If they can't be nice about the woman who saved their jobs, then they don't deserve to work here."

"Your defence of her does you credit Robert, but it is the look of the thing that matters. Whatever your intentions, the look of what happened this morning was not good, and once you've come down from your cloud of delusion, you will realise I am right."

"Probably." He does mean it, she was always right and her reasoning on this one was as sound as ever. She smiles gently, that kind look she gave him as a boy, the look of the proud mother. He used to yearn for that look, for that approval. But he doesn't today. "But I also think on this occasion I am right." She opens her mouth, but no words come out. His face stretches into a wide grin, he had never made his mother speechless before. He doubted he ever would again. "But don't you fear Mama. I will make sure it all looks perfectly proper from now on." He turns away and exits the room before she can work out exactly what to say, and before he bows to her gaze and apologises. Anything she said would no doubt put him right back in his place, and make him feel incredibly stupid. It might be his only chance to win and he wasn't about to let it slip through his grasp.

"I've been speaking to Robert." The words fill her with dread. She had thought Lady Grantham would speak to them about them being found together in her bed together, at the same moment. Knowing she wasn't about to have Robert summoned and his support put her on even more of a back foot. "He rather inferred last night was not an isolated incident and that he has in fact slept the night in your bed before." She could deny it, but there was very little point given that Robert had clearly already given them away.

"He has."

"I see." Lady Grantham lowers herself into the seat by the fire, her skirts swishing as she does so. "Things in America may be different from here my dear, your parents might have even indulged in the liberty of sharing a bed. But it is not how things are done here."

"No Lady Grantham. It won't happen again." It was a lie, she would not be turning Robert away if he wanted to stay. But there was no point in causing an argument with Lady Grantham. They would just have to be more careful.

"Cora, men will be men I'm afraid, and Robert is no exception. Sometimes they think they can take these liberties because it is their right. But always remember that he is a man, and thus he does not have rights." She chortles to herself and Cora can't help but smile. "It is your bedroom and your space, you must make him respect that." She would say that if it was her choice, she would have Robert sleep with her every night of their marriage but she knew this would be unwise. Lady Grantham was being much nicer about the whole situation than Cora had envisaged; to cause an argument would be stupid. It would be best to keep quiet. If she and Robert were careful they could probably get away with it.

"Yes Lady Grantham."

"I'm warning you for your own sake. I wouldn't want you thinking Robert is behaving in this way for anything other than his own self-interest." The blow is delivered in the same conversational tone that Lady Grantham always uses, but Cora's heart constricts quickly enough. She feels the tightening beneath her ribs as her heart accelerates in shock and hurt. She swallows.

The heart worked in strange ways. One single threat, possibly unfounded and untrue makes her panic and fret. What if Lady Grantham was right? What if Robert had only agreed to sleep in her room to gain her intimacy back at the earliest possible moment after her father's death? It was plausible. It went against everything he had said, and everything she knew about him. But sat before Lady Grantham, with the words between them, all those moments with Robert and all those words he has said are lost. Replaced by the pounding fear of rejection. Mary had tried to worn her that men like Robert and his father ran away from love. Lady Grantham was now advising her of the same, in a less direct way. Yet, she thought America had changed Robert. She had truly thought she was making progress in her quest to make him fall in love with her, but maybe it was an illusion.

"You look upset my dear."

"I'm fine."

"I'm only saying it for your own good. You're fragile at the moment, after your father's death, and to have your heart broken further would not be something that would serve you well." She ignores the further reference to her unrequited love. It was not a topic she wanted to discuss and certainly not with her mother-in-law. She was sure, when everything was weighed in the balance that Robert was well on his way to falling in love with her. They had made such astounding progress since August.

"What if having him there is mending my heart?"

"Cora my dear, you are a woman. You are at least twice as strong as any man. Your heart and your suffering will be ended by your own strength and perseverance, not by Robert's presence."

"I don't think I'm as strong as you think I am Lady Grantham."

"You are my dear. You are stronger if anything. You might not be quite the English lady I was expecting Robert to marry, but I will freely admit you are strong. You've moved to a new country, you've married a man who wanted your dowry, you have been content to love this man whilst he does not love you and you've taken on me as a mother-in-law, all with great grace and fortitude." Lady Grantham was nothing if not truthful, and her praise on this occasion surprises her. This was the first time she can recall that her mother-in-law had actively praised her. A small smile takes hold of her mouth. "You needn't look quite so shocked Cora. Contrary to popular belief I am not a woman without a heart."

"No Lady Grantham."

"I just keep it veiled. Which is all that I am really asking you to do. I know you are encouraging Robert in this habit of sleeping in your bed because you think it might help him to fall in love with you." Cora feels the blush rushing quickly into her cheeks, her mother-in-law was far too astute. "I cannot say if it will work, but I am taking this moment to warn you, that if it does not, you will feel much worse in your situation than you have felt until now." She nods solemnly, Lady Grantham was undoubtedly right. But surely, if there is a chance he might fall in love with her that was worth something? Lady Grantham stands and suggests they go and think about organising the plans for the dinners and the flowers for the next week. As she reaches the door, she suddenly turns. "One last thing, if you do both choose to defy me, and continue this less than suitable habit. Please at least try to keep it discreet." Cora feels her lips turn into another smile.

"So, you're not expressly forbidding it?" Lady Grantham arches her eyebrows and narrows her gaze.

"To do so would only encourage you. But that is not to say I approve."

"Well no, the look of the thing is very important, isn't it?" This was a mantra she had heard Lady Grantham utter on a handful of occasions. "And if you endorsed it, that wouldn't look good at all."

"Cora, you're verging on that precipice of being smart with me. I suggest you stop." She drops her gaze in acquiescence. It would not be wise to fall out with Lady Grantham now they were just about beginning to get along.

The rest of the day is spent in conversation with Lady Grantham. They look at menus for dinners; how food is organised for hunting and shooting luncheons and how far in advance the preparations for Christmas must begin. They discuss the events that will take place, how the shoot works, how they ensure not to clash with other dinners and balls in the county and what her role with be at each event. Cora does her best to take it all in. She is pleased when she manages to get most of the questions about their neighbours correct. Lady Grantham had been adamant that she was to learn about the basics of every local family within Yorkshire: their names, country seat, London house, a few interesting facts about each person – charities they supported and the like – to make easy conversation at dinners. As the year had gone on she had been building a little bank of knowledge about all these people, it was good to know that despite the two months away in America she had retained most of it. Lady Grantham now suggests to her that she widen her knowledge to some of the other important families of the aristocracy. They discuss the impending marriage of Lord Merton at the beginning of December.

"It is all a great inconvenience that the wedding is in London. But I suppose The Honourable Ada Bowley doesn't want to risk a muddy affair. But, for the rest of us, to have to travel to London and back right before Christmas is extremely inconvenient, even with the trains." She didn't like to point out to Lady Grantham that the wedding was an entire three weeks before Christmas, and that it would actually be quite useful to be in London at that moment – to enable them to do some Christmas shopping. Making such a statement would only cause her to be given an arched eyebrow in return, and possibly start an argument.

"Have you heard anything else about her? Robert says that Dickie hasn't really said much, but I thought that might be because we've been away."

"She's the daughter of a Baron, and eighteen I think. She came out this year anyway. Although, I think she introduced herself to Dickie before your wedding to Robert. I'm sure he mentioned her at your wedding."

"Yes, I think he did." Cora did vaguely recall a conversation at her wedding.

"Um, which for a young girl not yet out seems rather obvious. No doubt she had learnt he had recently become Lord Merton. I don't expect that bodes well as regards to liking her." Cora didn't like to think about the fact she probably agreed – she liked Dickie, and Robert was very fond of him – it would be a shame if none of them took a liking to his wife.

"You weren't introduced to her then whilst we were away? I wondered if Dickie had paid a visit with her?"

"No, I have not met her. Even more suspicious. But, only time will tell. The most important thing is that you present yourself appropriately at the wedding. You must be the perfect Viscountess at such an event. It will be your first public engagement in some months." Just like that they return to the etiquette and the procedures of the day and they discuss which of her dresses might be the most suitable to wear.

The topic of her and Robert's sleeping arrangements is not mentioned between them again, but it doesn't stop Cora's mind mulling over it in a handful of quiet moments. She didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable, and he might feel uncomfortable now that they were a topic of discussion below stairs (and his mother knew). She would have to ask him whether he was happy to continue their defiance of the rules. Her true moment of need during her grief was behind her now, and he might want to return to the safe haven of his rules. She did not, but he deserved a say. Her conversation with Lady Grantham might not have unnerved her that much, but she thought he might have been more affected by it – since she was his mother and he was rather keen on the rules that governed his way of life.

Dinner sees the introduction of Mary to their party. Which always served to put Lady Grantham on edge, but makes Cora relax a little.

It was the first time Cora had seen Mary since their return from America – she had not joined them the night before. Naturally this means there are a stream of questions initially posed to her and Robert from his grandmother. Most of them are about her father, and these are deflected with the usual answer and the usual soft smiles of lasting grief.

"And what did you make of America Robert? Surely it was quite something to visit a continent that none of the rest of us have?"

"There wasn't a great deal of time for seeing much of America, Granny. But what Cora did show me of New York before the return voyage was very intriguing. Newport, I thought, was rather lovely. It was lovely watching the yachts and sitting on the beaches." Cora hadn't really asked Robert what he had thought of her home country. She had been so busy whilst she was there dealing with her emotions, both in relation to her father and to Robert. It was nice to hear him express some pleasure in the places he had seen, even though they hadn't exactly done anything exciting or visited anywhere intentionally.

"Hopefully when we visit America next time there will be more time to explore and sightsee."

"Next time?" Violet is swivelling her head to look at her. Cora frowns, about to rebuke the query, of course she would be visiting her family again with Robert. But before she has a chance to Mary has directed her own reply across the table.

"You never know Cora, Patrick and Violet might even accompany you next time. I'm sure you would like to see America Patrick dear, given your love of travelling." Lord Grantham opens his mouth to reply to his mother, but his wife is already speaking.

"Absolutely not." If she was a child, Cora might expect Lady Grantham to bang her cutlery on the table. She swallows as everyone watches her with slightly wide eyes. "I mean…that's not to say America doesn't have its interests as a travel destination Cora dear, don't get me wrong." Cora refrains from rolling her eyes. It was typical of her mother-in-law to try and retract from her outburst, but the source of it was clear. She didn't want anything to do with America. "But I'm sure it would be too much for Cora's mother to host us all over there. Besides, it's so vast you know, how would you work out what to prioritise seeing?"

"I'm sure Mrs Levinson would be more than happy to have you all, wouldn't she Cora?" Mary turns to her, Cora hesitates. Aware that she was about to place herself in the middle of an argument between Lady Grantham and the Dowager.

"Whether my mother-in-law is happy to host us or not, I intend to go back." Robert's voice from the opposite end of the table shocks more than just herself, every face swivels to look at him. "I'm sure we can rent a house if needs be." It is only now that he looks up. Cora watches as he frowns slightly at all the faces watching him – all sporting similar, albeit varied, levels of shock. "Why are you all looking at me like that?" His gaze finally settles on hers. "Do you really think I would never go back with you to see your family?"

"Of course not." She hadn't, she was just surprised at him having voiced his opinion so soundly and coolly at the dinner table in the midst of one of those tense moments between Lady Grantham and the Dowager. The others might me more surprised at him having that intention, but she was not them.

"Good, because I intend to try and make it a sort of regular trip. Every two or three years maybe, for a few months at a time. I also want your mother and brother to know they are welcome to come and visit us here." He keeps his eyes fixed on hers. She nods softly, words lost to her.

"Robert! You cannot be serious?" Lady Grantham does place her cutlery down on this occasion. Mary and Lord Grantham share a look, but Cora keeps her gaze fixed on Robert. She was shocked, in a very pleasant sort of way. She was humbled and happy that he was offering such a thing. The fact she thought months of her mother's company, particularly in the presence of Lady Grantham, sounded like the most trying thing in the world, was something they could overcome at a later date. The important point at this moment is that Robert was on her side and he was thinking about her. She would put up with their mothers together every day forever if that was the price she had to pay to have Robert think about her so.

"I'm perfectly serious Mama. Martha and Harold are family now. Cora has to live with all of us, she should have as many opportunities as she wishes to see her own family."

"I agree." Lord Grantham finally adds his thoughts to the mix. Lady Grantham stares daggers across the table at him.

"Besides, I promised Isidore that I would take his grandchildren to see the places he had lived and Cora had grown up. I think that's the least I can do, given that he will never meet them." A silence settles over the table then. The kind of silence that only settles around the subject of death. It's a different sort of silence and it settles over them as tears threaten at Cora's eyes. Her thoughts turn without warning to the toy dog from her father that she and Robert were planning to place in the nursery which was slowly being redecorated, ready for the arrival of the next Crawley.

"Did you really promise him that?" Her voice is unsteady, she can feel how close it is to cracking. She has to lower to her cutlery to the plate as her hand begins to shake. She knows the others are still there, but she only sees his wide blue eyes, wet with their own emotion, staring into her own.

"I did." She nods softly. She wasn't surprised that her father had asked it, nor that Robert had agreed or that he intended to carry it through – Robert was honourable, she had known that from the start.

"Just one thing Robert. Please don't refer to my mother and my brother as my 'own' family, as if I have no other family. My family are sat around this table. Whatever you all might think of me, or whatever Rosamund, or Marmaduke, or any other member of the extended Crawley family thinks about me, I'm a Crawley now and I intend to do my best to be a good one."