If she weren't so distracted by her feelings, Cora would have planned all of this better. After all, she prided herself on being an excellent planner. She was organized and thoughtful in her work. She could move silently and unobserved in almost any circumstance, and her reflexes were quick enough to do the job and keep her out of trouble. But all of that came from Cora's skill in preparing herself properly.
Mother always said that was what made Cora a better assassin than a man. Men have arrogance and lazy tendencies, assuming they can figure things out as they arise. Women—and Cora in particular—would never leave such important matters to random chance. A man took opportunities as they came. A woman created her opportunities.
But these last months had proved challenging for Cora's usual meticulous planning. Instead of observing her mark and their surroundings before going in to finish the job, she had been bogged down by wedding plans. Instead of spending her free time thinking over her various options and methods for a kill, she had been mooning over Robert and fantasizing about their wedding.
Oh, their wedding! She could hardly wait. Mother had arrived at Christmas to assist in the planning, and everything was going to be beautiful and perfect. Cora was going to become a countess, and everything had been grandly planned to be worthy of the Earl and future Countess of Grantham.
The best part, of course, was her dress. It was the most magnificent thing, made and designed just for her by a very skilled and prestigious dressmaker in London. Queen Victoria herself had gotten dresses from this woman. It had taken a number of trips back and forth—conveniently allowing Cora to take care of some business for Lady Grantham at the same time—but at last the dress was ready. Cora had never felt so beautiful.
"You look perfect, dear," Mother said, standing behind Cora and gazing at her in the mirror.
"I wish there were time for me to get dressed after instead…" Cora lamented.
"We tried," Mother reminded her. "Your hair takes too long, and the dress has to go over your head and it just gets everything all disheveled. As it is, you're going to have to be very careful not to make a mess."
Cora glowered at her mother for that remark. "You know I don't make a mess," she said somewhat petulantly.
"Yes, I know," Martha answered with a placating sigh. "Now here's your cloak. Be careful!"
With her mother's assistance in covering the magnificent wedding dress with a long, dark cloak, Cora was ready to depart. She thankfully did not have to go very far. It was awful to have to do a job on the morning of her wedding, but it needed to be done before Cora left on her honeymoon. It was now or never.
This would be the last killing by Cora Levinson. What a nice thought.
"She's late," Violet grumbled.
"Unfortunate, yes, but the ceremony hasn't started yet," Isidore Levinson said calmly.
He was right, technically, but Violet wasn't pleased. Cora had procrastinated on this final task that needed doing before the wedding, and now she was off in the village making it look like that heinous tenant farmer had a terrible accident. Trying to cheat the Grantham estate out of what it was rightfully owed was a slight that the Dowager Countess could not ignore. And while Cora had suggested making the murder quite obvious in order to send a message to others with similar thoughts of getting one over on the estate, Violet had instructed her assassin in no uncertain terms to make the death look accidental. They could have someone else serve as an example if one were needed. For now, the hassle of dealing with a suspicious death amidst all of the wedding preparation was too inconvenient to contemplate.
"Have you ever been disappointed in her results thus far?" Mr. Levinson asked, interrupting Violet's brooding.
Violet made a small sound of discontent. "I have not, and you know I have not or she would no longer be in my employ."
Levinson chuckled lightly at that. "I imagine that would be the case, yes. So I would only say that with those facts in mind, don't get yourself too bothered by how she's chosen to handle things this time."
He was right and she knew it, but it wasn't what she wanted to hear. The father of the bride and mother of the groom were standing together in front of the church awaiting the bride's carriage. Ordinarily the father of the bride would ride with her to the church, but that was not feasible in this instance. The bride should be here waiting in her carriage while the last of the guests were seated, but Cora had not arrived yet.
This wedding was inevitable at this point, though Violet still wasn't happy about it. On the one hand, having a very skilled assassin in the family was quite helpful in being able to take care of things efficiently. And now that Cora would be family, she would no longer need to be paid for her services. But on the other hand, the very idea that a young woman in Violet's employ—and an American at that—was going to marry Robert, Earl of Grantham, and become Countess of Grantham was so distasteful, Violet hardly knew where to begin.
Just as upsetting was the fact that Robert had been so insistent upon marrying her. Yes, the dowry would be an important help to the estate. A frightfully necessary help, it turned out. But the way in which Robert had vehemently proclaimed that he would marry Cora Levinson was almost disturbing to Violet. Never before had Robert stood up to his mother like this. Never before had he stood on his own two feet and refused to do what he was told. The estate carried on as well as it did because Robert did not ask questions and did not bother with independent thought. Now that he had gone against Violet's wishes in marrying Cora Levinson, what else would he try to do? Everything that Violet had worked to create hinged on the fact that the Earl of Grantham was a clean, respectable face of the estate with absolute deniability. He did not know anything illicit or unsavory that the rest of the family dealt with. Robert carried on as though they were just an ordinary estate of the peerage.
And now he was marrying an assassin.
Albert Travis had been Reverend at St. Michael's and All Angels Church in Downton for just shy of eleven months. He had performed a few christenings and funerals for the village as well as a handful of weddings for the farming folk in the town. But today was a very special day. The most special day, in fact. Today he would be performing the wedding ceremony of the Earl of Grantham.
Reverend Travis had been on polite but friendly terms with His Lordship before today. The Crawleys did not attend church every week, but they did manage to come about one or two Sundays each month. And they had very generously been patrons of the nativity play put on by the Sunday School children. From everything Travis had seen, this behavior was quite defining for Lord Grantham: generous and polite and friendly but never overly involved.
The bride today, however, was much more unknown to the Reverend. He had met Miss Levinson only twice. She had accompanied the Crawley family to church once, several months ago, and had met her once again yesterday during the wedding rehearsal. She was quite pretty, that was clear to see. And she had a sweet disposition, quick to smile. That was a trait lacking in the peerage, Travis had found. Though perhaps because Miss Levinson was American, she was even more different than what might be expected for the future wife of the Earl of Grantham.
But there was something else about her that Travis could not put his finger on. Something about her that made him uneasy. It made no sense, of course. He had no reason to dislike Miss Levinson. There wasn't a person alive, Travis thought, that wouldn't find Miss Levinson anything less than charming. And yet…
Lady Grantham—the Dowager Countess, that is, since there was soon to be a new Lady Grantham—was quite obviously not as taken with her future daughter-in-law as the Earl was. Which wasn't too surprising, really. But Lady Rosamund, the Earl's sister, also seemed to be quite cold towards Miss Levinson. Maybe Travis was just picking up on their feelings when he found himself feeling somewhat troubled by the lovely Miss Levinson.
These thoughts filled the Reverend's head as they waited for the wedding to begin. The Dowager Countess had insisted that everyone be inside and seated and that she herself would be the last to enter the church. Travis could begin the ceremony once Lady Grantham was seated. They were about five minutes past when they were supposed to have started.
But ah there she was! Travis nodded to the organ player. The ushers opened the doors to the church, and the bride entered on the arm of her father. A small murmur went through the crowd as everyone watched in awe at the most beautiful bride that any of them had ever seen. Reverend Travis did not consider himself easily impressed by anything, but even he could not deny that the bride was absolutely stunning.
Things went on just as they were supposed to. Mr. Levinson gave his daughter away, and Miss Levinson took the two steps up to the altar, smiling beautifully through her veil and holding Lord Grantham's hand.
Reverend Travis looked down to ensure that no one was stepping on the wedding dress—such things had been known to happen—and he noticed a blemish on the otherwise pristine white gown. It looked like a few small, smeared droplets of…something. Actually, it looked like it might be blood, but that was a silly thought. Of course it wasn't blood.
Travis put it out of his mind and carried on performing the marriage between Cora Levinson and Robert Crawley, and when he at last proclaimed them man and wife, Lord Grantham kissed his bride in a manner that made the young Reverend blush.
"Are you happy, darling?"
Cora beamed smiling at him. "I've never been so happy in my life. I can't imagine I'll ever be less than ecstatically happy ever again. Oh I do love you, Robert."
Robert had been smiling at his new wife as they danced together at their wedding reception until she told him she loved him. It was such a bald display of feeling that he hardly knew what to do with it. But more than being taken aback by it, Robert found himself unable to say the words in return. He'd honestly never thought of such a thing before this moment. She loved him. And he did not love her. He liked her just fine. In fact, he liked her a great deal. He found her to be pleasant company, easy to talk to and an interesting conversationalist. And of course she was very beautiful and the kisses they had shared in the months during their engagement had been quite heady indeed. He was very much looking forward to their wedding night. It was just that the idea of love had not crossed his mind until now. How very curious.
"Are you happy, Robert?" Cora pressed after he had fallen silent.
He brightened his expression as a kindness to her. "I'm immensely happy that you are my wife, Cora." And that was the truth. "I look forward to our days and nights as husband and wife."
Her sapphire eyes flashed with a mischievous glint. "I know our days shall be not too unlike what they've been during our engagement, but I am excited for our nights." She blushed very prettily. "I suppose it's no great shock that I'm not entirely sure what to expect from our nights together, though I know it won't be all night."
Propriety dictated that a man leave his wife's bed when he finished with their marital duties and the couple each slept in their own beds in their own rooms. "We shall have to see. I may not be able to bear to leave you," Robert teased.
"I feel rather certain I'll not want you to leave. But as you said, we shall have to see. I know it will be an adjustment for both of us to get used to married life. I do believe that ours will be a happy marriage, though," Cora said.
She was a marvel, his wife. So sweet and clever and beautiful and kind and just so very good. Robert gazed at her as they danced and could not help but feel as though this lovely woman had never known a hint of darkness or evil in the world. She was a beacon of all things pure and good. Robert had joined himself to this woman in holy matrimony, and he intended to keep to his vows until the day he died. Marriage was never something he'd looked forward to, but marriage with Cora? Well, Robert could admit to himself that he was as eager as she to live their happy married life together.