Rating: T+
Petite Pictures #10
"I have never been more thrilled to get out of this house. I can't sit through another dinner with those people." From the chaise, Cora observed Robert tugging on the silk tie of his robe, only to have it slip through his palm. These guests, if one could call them that, would be challenging, that much was clear. Cora's guilt over leaving Mary behind to wrangle the infiltrators dissipated whenever she thought of the sunshine they were bound to find in France. One last hurrah, her daily mantra. And Mary, of all people, was beyond capable of keeping Downton upright for a few weeks.
"I wonder if we should be concerned for our chimney pots." Cora offered a smirk following her comment as Robert managed to untie the sash on the second try.
"Or perhaps the footmen. Miss Dalgleish will corrupt poor Albert before month's end." Robert's move toward the bed brought Cora to her feet, but not without rolling her eyes.
"She certainly made you blush." With her dressing gown deposited at the foot of the bed, Cora's fatigue, a constant these days, overrode her body's ability to stand and she crawled into the mattress. She slipped her feet further into the sheets and watched as Robert rounded the corner of agitation and exasperation in his review of the evening.
Though, it had been terribly funny, of course. Galling at first, but Cora had hoped that by biting her lip, she had avoided a blush of her own. Luckily for everyone, the matter was not discussed further. One judgmental comment from Mama and the subject was mercifully abandoned.
"How could I not when she brought up such a vulgar subject in front of my mother. And in the dinning room, no less." He was grumbling, now and Cora noted the pigment creeping up his neck, the color having nothing to with Miss Dalgleish's words. They were sharing the same thought, she was sure of it. His barely perceptible stutter of movement before peeling back the covers gave him away. Cora felt a wash of goose pimples as the reverberations of their morning interlude settled behind her breast.
Cora had awoken to the nearly foreign concept of feeling rested. It was one of the first mornings in her recent memory that she had not loathed the idea of opening her eyes. Having been determined to ride her sudden, albeit fleeting, energy as long as it lasted, she had turned to her sleeping Robert intent on waking him. With her foot grazing his lower leg and her fingers giving proper attention to his hair, she watched Robert come out of slumber. Her ministrations were halted and seemed like child's play in comparison to what followed. Cora let the image warm her, for there was no shame in blushing behind closed doors. Especially these doors.
"She's awfully beautiful, I'll give her that," Cora teased as Robert's lamp was turned off. She stuck a hand behind her to stiffen the pillow, a strategy to ease her back muscles. They didn't always protest to normal activity, but they certainly made their exhaustion known at the end of the day. Weakening muscles; another cause for worry.
Robert's eyes were on her, she knew that much, so she settled and looked up to find him already leaning into her. The slight roughness of his fingers on her jaw promptly soothed her. And suddenly it was reassurance. It was a yearning. It was meant to cherish, this kiss. Lips still pressed together, in memory of their morning, Cora smiled against Robert's warmth.
They separated, though not by a lot, his knuckles grazing her neck. And in a sincere murmur, Robert spoke.
"You're awfully beautiful."
The stillness fractured with Cora's laugh.
"I'm an old lady." Consciously, she hoped he knew she was being facetious. Though she couldn't deny that her body was lined and thin. And getting thinner, despite her best efforts.
"No." He was tugging at her chin, willing her to meet his eyes again and Cora obliged. Her teeth threatened to make an appearance if her smile grew any further.
"You are every bit as beautiful as the day I met you." They broke through, her teeth, betraying her delight in his endearments.
"I suppose the same cannot be said about me." She reveled in the way the silk of his pajamas swished against the cotton of her nightdress as he stretched to bring the covers to his waist. A similar friction had supplemented their morning activity, until both silk and cotton had been hastily discarded.
"No." She hadn't taken her eyes off him and she waited for her response to register. His mock incredulity brought laughter to her throat once again.
"But you see," Cora started, shifting more onto her hip to reinstate contact. "When I met you, there wasn't a single line on your face." As they had many times over, her fingers surrendered themselves to stroking his collar.
"But I've watched every crease appear. Put there by the girls, war, heartbreak. Happiness. It's a record of our life together. And I wouldn't have you any other way." To say this made her burn. Not with chronic passion, but achingly so. Lately, she couldn't decipher between heartburn and the sting of oncoming tears. Tears that she made sure Robert never witnessed.
"So you think I'm handsome, then." His flirting felt like a tonic, a numbing agent, allowing her to feel something other than discomfort. So she gladly played along, wanting to live painlessly for a moment. Or at least until she inevitably would have to tell him.
"Yes. Now kiss me again."
