Hold Me A Little Closer

They were able to get tickets on the Blue Train, in the end. They'd not entirely known their departure timing, so Robert had only arranged for their trip south. Going north was much simpler to book, thankfully. Well, actually, Robert didn't entirely know how simple it was to book. He left it with Bertie and Tom and Carson to arrange. Robert himself was in no state to arrange much of anything.

He slept fitfully that last night at the villa. If he'd even slept at all. He spent most of the night just staring in the darkness at Cora's sleeping form. Somehow his mind ceased to turn when he had his eyes open. When he did nod off, he was bombarded with the most terrible thoughts. Dreams. Nightmares. Not the sort that causes one to wake up with a start but instead leave one feeling nauseous and heavy. His heart had been in his stomach since the moment Cora told him of her illness, and he hadn't had a moment's peace since. Nor would he ever, he knew.

When they finally departed for the train station, Robert felt himself in a daze. He bid farewell to Monsieur Montmirail—the man who may well be his brother—and to his mother, who sniffed in a pretentious French manner. Carson and Bates and Baxter saw to everything for them as they all got back in the cars to go to the train station. Robert got in beside Cora, but he could hardly look at her. He knew if he looked at her, he might burst into tears again.

It was Tom who cornered him on the platform before they got onto the Blue Train. "Robert, are you alright?" he asked with concern.

"No," Robert answered. He saw Cora approach the door to a car, and he immediately went to join her. He did not want to talk to anyone just now. He did not want to be near anyone but her.

They got settled with their things in their beautiful sleeper car. For now, the seats were intact, and there were a variety of French and English newspapers perfectly crisp and waiting for them. The attendant asked if they needed anything else. Robert could hardly think, so it was Cora who smiled pleasantly and thanked the gentleman, dismissing him for the time being.

"I hope you'll be able to get a little rest, though I know trains are the most restful mode of travel for you," Cora said once they were alone and the train started up.

"I didn't sleep well last night," he told her.

"I know you didn't. I always know if you're sleeping, and I know you didn't sleep a wink last night," she answered.

He frowned. "Didn't you sleep?"

"Yes, but it's hardly restful anymore. I always wake up tired nowadays."

A lump formed in his throat. He took her hands in both of his. "Oh my darling," he whispered. Even through her gloves, he could feel how cold her fingers were. He brought them to his lips reverently.

"Shh," she soothed. "None of that, now. I don't want you getting upset."

Robert chanced a moment to look into her eyes. Those beautiful sapphire eyes were shining with unshed tears. "I cannot help it. I cannot help the ache within me to know that you are unwell, that you…that I might lose you." His voice cracked, so he stopped speaking.

"We don't know much of anything just yet. And other than being a bit tired and cold and suffering a bit of heartburn, I'm still alright! There is no use getting yourself worked up until we know what to expect. For now, for the foreseeable future, I am just fine, Robert," she assured him.

Unable to stop himself, Robert pulled her into his arms right there on the plush seats of their compartment. He did not dare speak, for he knew he would burst into tears again.

"Alright, darling," Cora conceded, holding him and settling into his embrace. "I'm right here, everything is fine for now. I know you need time to get used to things, like you always do."

A little chuckle fell from Robert at that. She was right, of course. He was never good with change, no matter how big or small. He hated not knowing what to do, not being in charge of things, not being able to anticipate. It was a state he'd been forced to accept in the last years, particularly after his ulcer nearly put an end to his life. He left most things to Mary nowadays, and he knew he could rely on her to do what was best. Oh he might grumble about it, but he trusted her to steer the ship, as he'd told her up in the attic.

But this, Cora's illness, this was such a terrible blow, and it could have such a dire effect on…well…everything. She was everything to him, absolutely everything in all the world. When he himself had thought he was dying, his final words were to profess his love to her, and when the time came, he intended his final words to once again be to tell her how deeply and truly he loved her. I had never once occurred to him that she might be leaving this life before he did. And now that possibility seemed so terribly likely, and Robert didn't know what to do.

"I don't even want to contemplate it, Cora," he whispered, holding her tighter.

"And neither do I." She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up into his eyes. Her gloved hand stroked his cheek. "So let's not contemplate it, alright? You're too tired to think clearly, and you're worrying everyone. Tom and Lucy were both staring at you and whispering at the station. Edith asked me if there was anything she could do for you, but I just told her you hadn't slept well, and you'd be fine. Now, are you going to make a liar of me?"

He could not how his lips twitched with a smile. "No. You're right, of course."

"Good," she answered.

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Though her fingers were cold, her lips were warm.

"Now then, why don't you read your newspaper or go to the bar car or something, alright? We've got a little time before dinner," she said.

Robert did not feel as wretched as he had before, but he still had no interest in seeing or talking to anyone. "No, I don't want to go anywhere. I only want to be with you."

"That's very sweet, Robert, but I promise you, I won't keel over if you leave the room," she teased.

He nearly scolded her for attempting to joke about such a thing, but he knew she was only trying to cheer him up. "I know that, but I don't like the idea of any of the others asking me questions. It'll only upset me again. And I can hardly start crying in front of the Marquess of Hexham."

"Why? Bertie started crying in front of all of us when Edith gave birth and we told him he had a son," Cora reminded him.

Robert rolled his eyes. "That's hardly the same thing."

"I know," she said softly. She sighed, and the exhaustion she must have been feeling showed in her face for a moment before her usual mask of pleasant elegance returned. "Let's call for the attendant to bring us a deck of cards. We can play rummy for a while."

"That sounds grand," he said.

They played cards until the train stopped in Marseilles. Baxter came to dress Cora for dinner, but Robert insisted they have trays in their compartments, and Baxter was dismissed.

When Cora asked him why they couldn't go to the dining car with the others, he said, "Let me just have you all to myself for tonight. I'm not as upset as I was, I promise, but we'll be home for dinner tomorrow, and we'll have the whole family and everyone. Let's just steal away our time alone while we can."

She smiled. "Yes, alright."

And so they spent the whole evening just the two of them. Dinner was pleasant, and they talked about the grandchildren and wondered about Mary's film. Shockingly, it was Cora who was the one to mention being eager to get home to Teo. She was Robert's dog, of course, but Cora did love all of the Labradors from the time Cora had first come to Downton. If such a thing were possible, Cora's affection for his dog made Robert love his wife even more.

The attendants came to ready the compartment for the night while they were still there, but no one got in anyone's way too much. Bates and Baxter came to prepare Lord and Lady Grantham for bed, and then, at last, they were alone again.

Their beds were parallel on either side of the compartment, Robert in his and Cora in hers. For being so small, they were at least comfortable.

"Robert, I'm going to turn out the light, if you don't mind. I'm about ready to fall asleep. And you definitely need to sleep tonight," Cora said.

"I am exhausted," he admitted. "But I hardly know how I'll manage a wink sleeping apart from you like this."

"Well, we can't push them together," she joked.

He sighed in disappointment. Cora stared at him for a moment and then sat up. "What's wrong?" he asked immediately.

But Cora did not answer him. She threw off the sheets of her bed and got up. She padded barefoot the two steps between their little beds. "Budge up," she instructed.

Robert pressed himself back against the wall and watched in amazement as Cora got under the covers beside him. It was a very tight fit, but they were both able to share the one bed.

She reached her arm out and switched off the light before she settled herself. "There we are. You'll just have to hold me a little closer than usual so we can both sleep."

He grinned in the darkness and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too. Now please sleep, Robert."

And he did.


It was the one and only thing that made Cora happy she was ill. The night they arrived home from France to find the house full of film people and their Mary starring in the film was utterly exhausting. And Cora hardly had any energy anyway. But Robert was going to accompany her to see Doctor Clarkson the next morning, and though she tried her best to keep serene and resigned for his sake, she was terrified to actually confront it all in the morning.

It was one thing to know she was sick, to be practically certain it was cancer, to know that things would get worse, but to know she'd accept it all with as much grace and dignity as she could muster. She'd had quite a bit of time to contemplate all that. She'd redone her will and she'd done what she could to keep things organized. She accepted all that.

But going to the doctor and getting the tests would bring two things she had not figured out how to accept: hard truth and painful hope.

Doctor Clarkson would give her the diagnosis, whatever exactly it was. There would be no more way for Cora to delude herself that she was sick but she was mostly alright. She would have to confront exactly what her illness was, and she would learn how it would take her and how long she had.

Along with that, though, was the equally terrifying idea that whatever was wrong with her might have a treatment or cure. She had no delusions of cure, but medical science had advanced rapidly over the last few years. Cora knew that better than most, being the hospital president. But she knew how Robert could be. If Doctor Clarkson gave them even an inkling that there was anything to be done—which, for all Cora knew, he could—then that sliver of chance would be everything that Robert clung to. And Cora would not be able to resist clinging to it, too.

She did not want to die. She did not want to be sick and wither away. She did not want to leave her husband or her children or her grandchildren or her friends. Cora Crawley wanted to continue to live her happy life more than anything. But she knew the only real way for her to get through whatever it was that would claim her was to accept it. Whatever Doctor Clarkson told her, she would accept.

That night, before seeing the doctor, she was plagued by such worries all night. But given her condition, she did not have the ability to stay awake even if she might have wanted to. If she were healthy, she wouldn't have been able to sleep. As it was, being back in her own bed with Robert beside her and the toll of the illness all combined to cause her to fall into a deep sleep before she even knew it.

Cora rang for Baxter early the next morning, getting dressed and having breakfast with the rest of the house rather than indulging in breakfast in bed as she usually loved to do. No, she wanted to get to the hospital as soon as they could. Robert was still a nervous wreck, and Cora wouldn't be able to keep her own anxiety at bay for much longer.

The tests went fine, getting the examination and having her blood drawn and answering all of Doctor Clarkson's questions. Robert sat there the whole time, listening to her describe every symptom. He did not watch, however. She was behind a screen for privacy with the doctor, and Robert was squeamish about these things anyway.

They ended things with Doctor Clarkson saying he'd come to the house with the results when he got them. Robert was still anxious, but Cora could see that reality was starting to hit him. They'd have to accept it. Cora would continue to remind him of that as often as she needed to.

"Would you like to go straight back home?" Robert asked, helping her into the car.

She smiled, despite all that had occurred. There were quite a few benefits to Robert having learned to drive and taking her to the hospital himself rather than with a chauffeur. It was just the two of them alone, which they both liked on occasions like this. "What did you have in mind?" she asked.

"Well, I won't say I'm keen to go back to the house full of the film people. But of course we shall if you want to," he said. He was probably also hoping to keep away from his mother as much as he could, still desperate to know his parentage but resisting badgering her. Cora herself was mildly curious, but really only for Robert's sake. It mattered to him, and that mattered to her.

But for now, they were still out just the two of them, and Robert did not want to go home just yet. Cora considered for a moment. She wasn't feeling any worse than she had been for months. "Why don't we drive around the countryside a bit, and perhaps we can have lunch in the village?" she suggested.

Robert smiled at her properly for the first time in days. "Exactly what I'd hoped for."

Their drive was quiet until they passed a road sign pointing the directions to Ripon and York and Scarborough, and Robert began to hum.

"What's that?" she asked, not being able to hear the tune properly.

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme," he sang.

Cora joined in with the old English song. "Remember me to one who lives there, for she once was a true love of mine," they sang together.

There were two verses that Cora did not know the words to, but she joined in to harmonize with him in the parts she did know.

When they finished, she gave a happy hum. "I feel like we only ever sing together at Christmastime and God Save the King, and now I feel as though we've missed out."

"I do love to hear you sing," he told her. "We didn't take nearly enough advantage of when Edith lived here and played the piano. Mary was always the singer, but we should have all sung together. We shall have to rectify that. Perhaps we can see if Caroline might have an aptitude for it."

"We'll see," Cora said, quelling his enthusiasm. He was trying to find hope, trying to think of the future. But just now, she couldn't manage it for herself.

They fell back into silence again, though this time the tension of their worries filled the car. At Cora's suggestion, Robert drove them back to Downton Abbey, foregoing lunch in the village. Besides, it wasn't fair to the servants that they just not come home without informing anyone.

At home, the afternoon took a rather exciting turn. The actors did not want to come back to work, so the Downton staff were going to play in the last scene to be filmed. It was marvelous to see how excited they got. They all got fitted for costumes before dinner that night in order to give the costumers sufficient time before filming the next day.

That night, Cora went to bed early, falling asleep before Robert even joined her. Once again, she was pleased to not be kept awake all night by her worries.

Cora spent as much time as she could with George and Caroline and Sybbie and Marigold the next day. George and Caroline obviously lived at Downton, but Sybbie had moved to Brompton with Tom and Lucy, and Marigold lived at Brancaster with Edith and Bertie along with new baby Peter. Everyone would be going home soon, and Cora wanted to be with Sybbie and Marigold as much as she could before they left. Being with the children helped distract her from wondering when Doctor Clarkson would be coming by and what he'd say when he did.

And, of course, Cora had come up with an idea for the actress, Miss Dalgleish, to help her escape her unfortunate accent. She spent the time she was not with the children instead with Miss Dalgleish helping her practice an American accent. The poor girl might not have been able to sound posh, but she could certainly sound as American as Cora did after having lived in England for nearly forty years. It was a pleasant way of speaking, in Cora's opinion. And Miss Dalgleish would certainly do just fine in Hollywood speaking like that.

The whole house was then kept well distracted when it was time for the servants to get in their costumes and hair and makeup. Cora and Robert went into the dining room to see it all happen. Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore looked more glamorous than Cora could have ever imagined. Barrow and Bates and Carson were all looking quite distinguished, as was Mr. Mason. The younger ladies, Daisy and Anna, looked ready to attend a ball! It was all just marvelous.

The director was moving them about and talking to the sound technician and to Mary about the lines she was to read. Cora took it all in excitedly. It helped, too, that Robert was in better spirits after his mother had assured him that he was his father's son. That had eased all their minds. Cora could put aside her own worries to bask in the relief with her husband and to celebrate this fun adventure with the servants.

All of a sudden, Mr. Molesley's voice came through the room. Everyone fell silent, and it was soon quite clear that he was with Baxter somewhere in the house with a microphone that was coming through the speakers here. Cora nearly started to cry with triumph when that dear Mr. Molesley proposed marriage to Miss Baxter at long last. She applauded with everyone else when she got to finally tell him yes. Cora could not have been happier for her dear maid.

The scene was finally filmed magnificently, and it was such a thrill to watch it all happen. The mood at supper with their buffet all around the library was light and joyous.

Doctor Clarkson arrived in the middle of their meal, and when he was announced, Robert and Cora looked at each other, sharing a look of dread. This was it.

When the doctor told them that it wasn't cancer but instead pernicious anemia, Cora thought she might faint. The very diagnosis that had been thought to be a death sentence for Dickie Merton was now something far less concerning, thanks to research advances. Whatever Doctor Clarkson explained was drowned out by the thundering of Cora's heart and the way Robert hugged her and kissed her temple. She was so happy, she could hardly believe it.

"My Lord and Lady! Come quick!"

Denker's voice shouting down from the upstairs gallery dashed all of the joy for everyone.

It was a long time before Cora and Robert retired to their bedroom that night. All the tears were shed for the time being. Robert had said goodbye to his beloved mother. Cora had received the apology and praise and acceptance from Mama that she'd never thought she'd get. Mary and Edith were encouraged and adored by their grandmother. And everyone else in the family—Maud, Lucy, Tom, Dickie, Isobel, and Bertie—were all there, too. It was just as Violet would have wanted, Cora thought. She said as much to Robert as they got into bed.

"I wish there had been time to send for Rosamund. Mary said she'd been in bed for quite a while, but the end seemed to come so suddenly. We should have thought to…" Robert trailed off, not having the ability to have any idea what they should have thought to do.

"Rosamund will be informed in the morning, and she'll get here as soon as she can for everything else," Cora told him.

"Yes," Robert answered sadly.

"Come to bed, darling," she beckoned.

They turned out the lights without delay. They each lay on their sides, facing each other. Cora waited until Robert spoke. "Thank god for you," he whispered.

Despite the grief, Cora smiled. She squeezed his hand and said, "And I'll be here a long while yet."

"My god, that's right! Oh Cora, oh my love," Robert gushed. He pulled her into his arms, pressing kisses wherever he could reach.

"Now that we know what's wrong with me, I think I can wait until after the funeral and such before I go back to Doctor Clarkson," she said, snuggling against him. "We can take things one at a time, thank goodness."

"Yes, that's probably best." Robert let out a deep breath. "I didn't know it was possible to feel so happy and so sad all at once. The lightness I feel knowing you're alright but the heaviness I feel losing Mama."

"I agree. I feel the same way. So for now, just hold me a little closer," she requested. "I think we both need it. And tomorrow we can go forward together."

Robert hummed in agreement, hugging her tight. "Together," he murmured.

"Together," she whispered.