Late April 1913
"The girls told me that Lady Bolton fired their head housekeeper within ten minutes of walking in the house," Cora said, sipping her drink as she and Robert waited in the library for everyone else to arrive for dinner.
"How do they know that?" Robert wondered.
"One of the maids at Bolton Hall is friendly with Anna, and Anna told Sybil," Cora answered. "I asked O'Brien if she knew the housekeeper there, but she didn't. Bolton isn't so far away, but I suppose we don't mix with them much."
Robert hummed in agreement. "Papa had some disagreement with the last Baron Bolton."
"Oh?"
This was not a story that Robert liked to tell, and it was a rumor more than anything. Rosamund claimed she knew more, but they were barely more than children when it happened, so there was no way to be sure. "Apparently Papa was perceived to behave improperly with the late Lady Bolton."
Cora's eyes went wide. "Is that true?"
Robert shrugged. "Mama would never say a word if you asked her. I was at Eton when it supposedly happened. Lady Bolton may have flirted. Papa may have flirted. I don't imagine it went further than that, but certainly far enough to anger Lord Bolton. They had no children, of course, so after the ties were severed between my parents and them, there was no reason for us to try and reconcile."
Such a thing was nearly incomprehensible to Cora. She knew that Mama and Papa did not have a love match in their marriage, but they were fond of each other. Respectful to a fault, actually, and always unified in everything they did. She could not imagine Papa ever straying, not because he loved Mama, but because it would have been a weakness of the Granthams. Though that was a different time. The world of the peerage looked the other way with affairs. Cora had learned that quite distinctly at that weekend house party all those years ago where a bell was rung to send everyone back to their proper bedrooms. She and Robert had been the only ones to remain in their proper places and proper partners.
Robert watched Cora's concerned silence and crossed over to her. He took her hands and kissed each of them. "I promise, darling, that I shall not follow in my father's footsteps."
"You won't flirt with Lady Bolton?" Cora teased.
"Not at all," Robert vowed. He leaned in and softly kissed her lips.
"Oh must you?"
Cora and Robert both turned at the sound of Mary's voice to see their three daughters entering the library. "Your papa has just promised me that he won't be having an affair with Lady Bolton," Cora explained.
Both Robert and Sybil chuckled. Edith's brow furrowed in confusion. Mary rolled her eyes, though there was a little smile there she tried to hide.
Changing the subject, Cora asked her girls, "Have you made a decision?"
"No," Mary answered flatly.
"Mama, you know that—" Edith began, her voice already whining.
Cora interjected, cutting her off before she got started. "You are to determine it amongst yourselves. I do not want to hear anything except a decision."
Sybil, Mary, and Edith all began talking quietly amongst themselves, practically hissing as they all became agitated.
Robert looked at Cora in question. She sighed and merely said that the girls were having a disagreement that they were to work out for themselves.
Thankfully, Carson entered a moment later. "The Lord and Lady Bolton," he announced.
The Earl and Countess of Grantham went to meet their guests. "Welcome to Downton Abbey," Cora greeted. "We are so glad to meet you and honored to have you in our home."
Robert felt a swell of pride at the gracious elegance of his beloved wife. She really did so well at all of this. Mama had always carried gravitas as Countess of Grantham. Cora did her duty with warmth and kindness, and Robert was always so proud to see her command her domain in this gentle, beautiful way.
But his attention was taken from his wife as he was confronted by the new Baron and Baroness from Australia. They looked to be about the same age as Robert and Cora, perhaps slightly older. The Baron had a beard, which was unexpected. The man was tall and broad and carried himself well. His eyes were a happy, sparkling blue.
"It's an honor to be here, Your Ladyship," the Baron greeted, taking Cora's gloved hand and kissing it politely. "I'm Lucien Blake, and this is my wife, Jean," he introduced.
The Lady Bolton was not what Cora had expected at all. From the story she'd heard about dismissing the housekeeper, Cora anticipated someone young and severe and trying to prove herself. This woman was nothing like that at all. She was thin and nearly a head shorter than Cora. And she certainly was not young. Probably about Cora's own age, she thought. Her brown hair was a warm, lovely color and arranged quite prettily.
"Thank you for the invitation, Lady Grantham," Lady Bolton said.
Robert was struck by the accent. He realized in that moment that he had actually never met an Australian woman before. He'd served alongside a couple of Aussies in South Africa, and he'd never liked the accent. From Lady Bolton, however, it sounded quite pleasant. She didn't seem at all the type to fire a housekeeper on the spot. Well, some people could behave in public and were a nightmare in private. Robert's cousin, Susan MacClare, came to mind.
Cora introduced Mary, Edith, and Sybil, and Robert offered the Boltons a drink. They were all taken aback when Lord Bolton insisted that they be called 'Lucien' and 'Jean.' Cora, of course, was the first to recover from that, and she graciously took the lead on calling the Baron and Baroness by their first names not twenty minutes into meeting them.
Soon enough, Carson opened the door to the dining room.
"Shall we go through?" Cora offered. She took Lord Bolton's arm. Or rather, Lucien. An interesting name, to be sure.
Robert escorted Lady Bolton. She was a small thing, but had a strength and robust sturdiness to her that Robert did not recognize in a lady. The maids had that quality about them, actually, and Mrs. Hughes. How curious.
As they were being served the first course, Edith ventured to ask, "Lord Bolton, how are you finding England?"
"You will have to call me Lucien," he repeated. "I'm afraid I'm not used to being Lord Bolton just yet, and I might forget you're addressing me."
Edith blushed slightly. "Alright, Lucien, how are you finding England?"
"It's certainly a different world. We speak the same language and have the same King, but the differences feel a world apart to us. Though perhaps that's more to do with being a Baron than just being in England," he said.
"What was your life like in Australia?" Sybil asked curiously.
"I was a doctor in a small town, actually," he confessed. "And I think that's what I miss more than anything else."
"Why is that?" Sybil pressed. Cora nearly wanted to suppress her; Sybil was always a curious little thing, and Cora did worry that her curiosity and boldness might develop into a dangerous habit.
But Lucien was perfectly happy to answer. "I always liked being a doctor. I like helping my patients. I like the since of diagnosing and treating an ailment. And, of course, it gave me something to fill my days," he added with a small laugh.
"He's exaggerating," Lady Bolton—Jean—said. Her pale turquoise-blue eyes shone in the candlelight in a manner that made her affectionate glance at her husband look rather magical. "Lucien has been busier than ever since we've been here these last weeks. We've never managed an estate before, and Lucien isn't much of a farmer. There's been quite a lot to learn."
"Well, I've never been a farmer, but Jean's been helpful on that front," Lucien said.
"Were you a farmer, Lady Bolton?" Mary asked. Robert nearly scolded her for the twinge of rudeness in her tone that reminded him dreadfully of Mama. But at the same time, Robert himself felt the same way. Bad enough they were Australians, and now finding out they were a doctor and a farmer?
"Please call me Jean," she said, almost automatically. "And yes, I grew up on a farm in Ballarat, which is the town where Lucien and I are from. And my first husband and I had a farm together until he died and I couldn't manage it on my own."
"Have you found farming to be different here?"
Robert found himself pursing his lips unhappily as he ate. Edith's question was polite, allowing their guests to speak, and he should be pleased with her for that, but it was also the most boring question anyone could have come up with. This was going to be a very tedious evening.
And yet, despite the odd queries from his daughters, Robert found himself somehow charmed. The Australians certainly did not put on airs—they had no airs to put on, it seemed—and they were friendly and warm and kind. They might not have had the manners of the upper class they now belonged to, but there was no hint of the brash, loud reputation of Australians with Lucien and Jean.
Cora looked across the table and caught Robert's eye as the girls engaged their guests in conversation for the moment. He looked up and smiled affectionately at her, and she found herself smiling back. She knew Robert had been dreading this dinner, being curious and wary of the new Boltons in equal measure. But it was turning out to be quite a pleasant meal. Reconnecting Bolton Hall with Downton Abbey seemed to be going quite well so far. And Cora wasn't in the least concerned that Robert would flirt with Lady Bolton. In fact, if Cora had to guess, she would say that Jean and Lucien were as happy and in love as Cora and Robert were themselves. And wasn't that a nice thing to discover?