The sunlight came through the window after the maid had opened the curtains. Strange, Robert usually woke up at the sound of the curtains being drawn. Or if he didn't, Cora would gently wake him up with her soft kisses. He quite liked being woken that way. But that wasn't what had happened today.

He rolled over and groaned in pain. This blasted stomach trouble was utterly wretched. He'd need to see to it soon, he knew. He had hoped it would pass, but it had been weeks now.

"Darling, what's the matter?" came Cora's sleepy murmur. She'd been very tired lately, too.

"It's nothing," he insisted. Robert moved a bit more gingerly so he could take his darling wife in his arms.

She hummed happily, snuggling against him. "Good morning," she said as she nuzzled against his chest.

Robert sighed, smiling. In the months since Cora had revealed the ghastly truth of the family—and her own role within it—he'd tried his best to adapt. He hated every single second of it. But Cora's honesty, once he'd really wrapped his head around it, had really been a great expression of love, and Robert could recognize that. And really, she was still the same person he fell in love with before that, the same woman he had been married to for more than a year. The fact that she could wield knives with terrifying and deadly effect was just another part of her. It did not change anything. It was like finding out she had a fondness raspberry jam; it was just another thing he learned about the woman he loved.

Well, it wasn't exactly like that. This little hobby of hers, this career, it was horrible and frightening and incredibly dangerous. Robert did not have cause to worry about her before. And now he did.

He worried about everything nowadays. He'd been in contact with Marmaduke and even went all the way to London to learn about the real family business from his brother-in-law. And ever since then, he'd worried. Worried about getting arrested. Worried about lawsuits and criminal trials. Worried about his position in the House of Lords. Worried about the family's place in polite society. Worried about possible retribution from their enemies, of which there were many, he'd found out. Worried about Cora and Mama and Marmaduke and Rosamund being harmed in some way. Worried about what he was supposed to do to lead this criminal organization his parents had built for him to inherit. Worried, worried, worried. It never stopped. He could hardly sleep from it.

Thank God for Cora, though. Assassin or not, she was still wonderful. He still loved her. And when the worries piled up so much that he could hardly breathe, he could take solace in her. Oh thank God for her.

"Oh dear!" Cora cried out suddenly. She threw off the bedsheets and practically flew out of bed and hurled herself into the bathroom.

Less than a second later, Robert heard the sound of her retching. Just hearing it made his own stomach trouble that much worse. The pair of them had been feeling dreadful, and Robert worried if whatever was the matter with him might be catching. Or perhaps the other way around.

Robert managed to get out of bed and put on his dressing gown. He rang for Cora's maid and then rang for his own valet. He'd make sure they both went to see a doctor as soon as possible.

"Could you please send Lord Grantham in to see me?" Cora asked shakily. She held her dressing gown around herself tightly, as though something might fall apart if she weren't wrapped up securely.

The doctor left the room, and a moment later, Robert appeared. "Did he tell you what's wrong with me?" he asked.

Cora shook her head. "No, he just kept asking me questions about how I was feeling, I didn't get a chance to ask him anything. What's wrong with you? Are you going to be alright?" she asked worriedly. Her own ailment was nothing compared to her concern over Robert's wellbeing.

Robert sighed. "It seems that I have a stomach ulcer. Brought on by stress. I didn't give details to the doctor, of course, but I think we all know I've been under a considerable amount of stress lately."

"Yes," Cora agreed sadly. "I am sorry, Robert."

"You aren't the cause of it, dearest. You told me the truth, and I can hardly fault you for that. It isn't for you to be sorry that the truth happens to be so distressing."

She hesitated, not quite sure what to say.

"I will be fine just so long as I make more of an effort to get fresh air and more sleep. And the doctor's given some sort of powder for me to mix with water and drink when I'm in pain. Everything will be alright. Did you get a similar diagnosis?"

"No, I don't have anything wrong with my stomach, actually," Cora informed him. Her whole body felt about to tremble, and her stomach, while not irritated by an ulcer, was all aflutter. "And I'm sorry that I might be the cause of more stress for you."

"Cora, what do you mean?"

"I'm pregnant," she answered bluntly.

Robert gripped the poster of the bed for support. "P-pregnant?" he stammered in disbelief.

"I know it might not be the best time for it now, but hopefully we'll be able to have an heir and solve the succession, and then that will be one less thing for you to worry about, right?" she asked hopefully. But when Robert did not answer right away, she continued babbling, "Of course, I imagine being a father for the first time is probably more worrying than the problems that it will solve, particularly if it isn't a boy. And I suppose it was bound to happen, what with the way we've been…erm…carrying on…"

"Oh Cora," Robert breathed, stepping forward to hug her close to him, cutting off her rambling.

Cora let out a breath, feeling the tension finally leave her body as he held her.

"My darling, I'm so pleased," he told her.

Tears stung her eyes, but she tried to blink them away. She was just so relieved, she could hardly string a sentence together. She just wrapped her arms around her husband and took comfort in the fact that they were going to be parents, and they'd all be alright.

"Mama, please. I think you know I don't ask you for much. I don't ask you for anything. But I'm asking you for this," Robert beseeched.

"Actually, you're asking me for two things," Violet corrected.

He frowned. "I'm not asking you to allow me to step away from the family business and to leave it to you as we'd done before. I am telling you. I'm afraid you haven't much of a choice in the matter. Neither of us do."

Violet did not like things to be put in such terms, but he was unfortunately correct. Her son, while a wonderful Earl of Grantham in so many ways, had taken to the criminal organization of the estate like a duck to polo. He had tried, but it was all beyond him and he had hated every second of it. She had never thought her son was a nervous, worrying sort, but he'd worked himself up into a debilitating ulcer. The only thing that gave him any relief was pretending like he didn't know a thing about what the Granthams got up to. Begrudgingly, she had to allow him to take a step back. She'd managed quite well without him for many years, and she and Marmaduke would carry on as they had before. Without Robert.

"But I am asking you for Cora," Robert continued.

"Why is she not asking me herself?"

Robert paused awkwardly. "She doesn't know I'm asking you."

Violet narrowed her eyes at him. "Have you discussed it with her?"

"Not exactly."

"Robert, do you mean to tell me that you are asking me to let your wife cease her duties as an assassin entirely without consulting with her? My god, if you had a wife who enjoyed showjumping, would you take away her horse without telling her?"

"I hardly think you can compare murder with a sporting hobby," he countered dryly.

"No," Violet fired back, "because a hobby is something one does in one's spare time. What Cora does is a profession of the highest order. She's incredibly gifted, and it isn't right that you attempt to forbid her from using her talents in the manner she sees fit."

"Mama, I wouldn't do that. I recognize that Cora is very good at…that…but you must know how dangerous it is. And now that she's pregnant, it hardly seems sustainable."

"She's very aware of her own condition, Robert. If she wishes to suspend taking contracts for us until after she recovers from the birth, she only needs to say so."

Robert softened, explaining, "She would never want to disappoint you. And that's why I'm asking."

"Without telling her."

"Mama, please."

Violet considered for a moment. Robert had a tendency to seek control over things he didn't approve of, and Violet had been waiting for something like this ever since Robert learned the truth. But something about the way he presented this, not by saying that it wasn't a proper thing for Cora to do or that he would forbid it as her husband but instead being concerned about her safety and that of their unborn child, made Violet pause.

She stood up and went over to the bell, pulling it once. A moment later, Carson appeared.

"Carson, please bring Lady Grantham in here."

The butler nodded and went to fetch Cora.

"Mama, please don't upset her. The pregnancy has made her very tired and ill half the time," Robert warned.

Violet did not respond to him. She was through talking to him. She needed to talk to Cora.

The young countess herself entered the room a moment later, looking a bit tired but smiling and glowing. She'd just started to gain weight from the pregnancy. Her usual enthusiastic demeanor had softened. "Carson said you asked for me?" she greeted.

"Yes, my dear, your husband has seen fit to remove himself from estate affairs. Has he told you that he wishes to return to his former ignorance?"

"Not ignorance, Mama, just not direct involvement," Robert protested.

"No, you want to pretend as though none of this happens. And you want to have your wife step back as well, isn't that right?" Violet goaded.

The look on Cora's face was quite priceless. Her blue eyes immediately filled with fire, and Violet could see the exact moment that Cora remembered her better manners and stopped herself from shouting at Robert then and there. Violet felt a strange twinge of pride at that.

"That isn't what I said," Robert insisted.

Cora quickly composed herself and said, "I have no interest in removing myself from the family business, Mama. It's so closely tied with my father's business and everything I've been involved with for most of my life. However, I do think that taking a less direct role in such things might be for the best. With this pregnancy, I no longer have confidence in my abilities with my knives. My speed and agility are not what they were."

"So you agree with Robert that you should cease your assassin duties during your pregnancy?" Violet asked.

"Yes," Cora said with a nod. "But I think after my pregnancy as well. I don't know how long it will take for me to recover, but even so, I'll be a mother then. I worry about the danger much more. And I don't think that I'll be able to take away life in the same way after I've given it."

The eloquence should not have surprised Violet, but she found herself strangely moved by Cora's words. "I see," she answered. "Very well."

And that's all she would say on the subject.

Mr. Levinson,

I apologize for the delay in my letters. I should have perhaps sent a telegram, but the privacy of a letter seemed more prudent, given the information I wish to convey to you.

You know, of course, that your daughter and my son have been expecting a child. Well, rather earlier than expected, you and I have become grandparents. Mary Josephine Crawley is the child's given name. Robert was disappointed in a daughter when he was first told, but the moment he met Mary, he's been madly in love with her. Cora has taken to motherhood extraordinarily well. She is happier than I think I have ever seen her. Mother and child are healthy and quite well. I know Cora is anxious for you and Mrs. Levinson to meet the baby at your earliest opportunity.

I also want to inform you that I am once again in need of a contractor. I had the best in the business on personal retainer, but given recent events, that line of work is no longer acceptable. Your last contractor recommendation was of course better than any of us might have anticipated, so I write to once again ask for suggestions.

My former contractor, you may be pleased to know, has taken a position with me on the business side of things instead. I had not anticipated such an aptitude, but I suppose I should not be surprised, given that contractor's background. I know I'll not be able to continue in my current position forever, and since my son has no interest in taking it on, I have found an even better option for the future of the Grantham estate. You should be very proud. Though I know that you already are.

I look forward to your reply, as does Cora, about when you might be able to meet your granddaughter. It will be nice for the two of us to catch up as well.

Sincerely,

Violet Crawley, DCG