The Proper Way of Things
April 2, 1890
Robert dismissed his valet as he did every night, thinking nothing of it. Willis bid him goodnight and closed the door to the hallway behind him. Robert, meanwhile, waited patiently by another door, listening to the sounds of two women speaking softly inside. He could almost hear the gentle rustling of petticoats and things. Perhaps the slight tinkling of pins placed on the wooden vanity. In his mind's eye, he could see the way the maid would brush out Cora's hair and plait it with a pretty silk ribbon tied on the end to keep it neat while she slept.
"Thank you, Smithson, goodnight," Cora called.
Her voice was always louder than it should have been, but Robert smiled. His mother always said that it was yet another of Cora's horrid American traits. But Robert knew better. At least when it came to bidding the maid goodnight. She was always louder than absolutely necessary because it was her signal to him that she was alone and he could come join her. Doing so had been her idea, as Robert himself had often waited far too long to ensure the maid was gone and more than once found Cora already in bed and asleep when he came to her. He was far too embarrassed and ashamed to wake her up, never wanting to inconvenience her or impose himself upon her, so he would simply sigh sadly and go back to his own room. And then the next morning, Cora would look at him with a small expression of disappointment to match the disappointment he himself always felt when he went to bed missing out on their time together. He felt absolutely awful about this and anything else that caused Cora dissatisfaction, and he would apologize when they took their morning walk together. That was when she devised the plan of loudly telling the maid goodnight, so that Robert would know that he was safe from the awkwardness of coming to his new bride when her maid was in the room.
Well, she wasn't really his new bride anymore. They had celebrated their first wedding anniversary a few weeks ago. But it all still felt terribly new somehow. Still somewhat…well, Robert didn't know what, but it was not what he'd imagined marriage to be. Not what he'd imagined marriage to Cora to be.
Robert opened the door and closed it gently behind him. Cora was still seated at her vanity, and she turned to smile at him as he came in. His stomach did a small flip at that, even still. She really did have the most beautiful smile. She smiled often—another American trait about her—but it was quite different to see her smile at him.
She must have noticed him staring tonight, because her face fell. "Robert, are you alright?" she asked with concern, getting up to come to him. "You've got a funny look on your face."
He took her hands in his and forced a small smile of his own. "My dear, are you happy?" he asked. He'd not intended to begin such a conversation, but the words had left his lips wholly on their own accord.
Cora looked up at him curiously. Worriedly. "Of course, darling, why shouldn't I be?"
"No, no, not that you'd have any reason to be. I hope I'd know if you had a reason to be. You must tell me if there ever is," he insisted.
"Yes, of course," she responded, her tone as serious as his.
Robert sighed and let go of her hands turned away to pace anxiously. "I can't help but feel that…"
Cora interrupted him, though he'd not known how to finish that sentence. "Our marriage is as happy as you allow it to be," she said, practically snapping at him.
He halted his pacing and turned to her. "Whatever do you mean by that?"
Her sapphire eyes narrowed at him. "I agreed to marry you and my father agreed to sign over my dowry and full inheritance to your estate, just as you and your father wanted. I allowed all of that with my eyes wide open. I knew what sort of life I would lead here at Downton as your wife. I think you were less honest than I was about our circumstances," she pointed out. Her tone and her expression became gentler.
"I don't…" He had a feeling he knew what she meant, but he did not want to give it voice. Not now. Not like this.
Cora looked at him with eyes shining and face as open as her heart. "I love you, Robert. Very deeply. I am very happy to be your wife. Any unhappiness you feel is only your own. And it is your unhappiness, this…discontent you have…that's all that makes me unhappy now."
Robert's heart thundered in his chest at her words. At her honesty, at her bravery. That was the American in her, too, and he wouldn't change it or her for all the world. The guilt of it crashed over him. She was right, of course. She was usually right about things. It never failed to surprise him, how clever and observant she was. He had never wanted this for her, to have him fail her the way he had. He had never wanted any of this. And the desire to make it right was overwhelming.
He swiftly moved back to her and gathered her in his arms, hugging her close. He heard her sigh happily in his arms. It was true, of course. She did love him. She was happy to be with him.
"I love you, Cora."
She stiffened in his arms and gasped softly. It was not the first time Robert had said those words. Not by far. But it was the first time he had truly meant them. And they both knew it.