Hi everyone! I'm back! I would like to thank all of you for all your support, but there is one person to whom I would like to dedicate this chapter, and it's my wonderful friend zaibi 12, because she is the first person I met in this fandom (and I'll never forget it) and it's thanks to her that I finally found the courage to make this account. Thank you for all your love and for being such a beautiful person!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DEAR GIRL! I LOVE YOU!
Lord and Lady Grantham arrived in Paris, happier than they had been in weeks, on 8th September. And that meant only one thing: there were two days left before Robert's big surprise. Cora was so thrilled by the mere fact of being in 'the city of love' that she didn't even notice the state of excitement of her husband as the hours slipped by.
The house Robert had rented for them, which was one of the numerous properties of one of his acquaintances, was situated quite far from the city centre. When he had planned to take his wife to Paris, he had immediately thought about this building that he had seen only a couple of times in pictures, but that had deeply impressed him.
It was magnificent, and it was also surrounded by a beautiful garden. It was not as grand as their estate in Yorkshire, but they both had to admit that it was very lovely and at that time of the year, the weather was very warm, too.
They spent their day exploring the city hand in hand, laughing and stealing kisses using the most curious justifications they could find. Cora was over the moon. Every time she proposed something to do or to see, Robert was more than willing to join her. Even her tiniest desire was immediately fulfilled by him. When during a long walk she had declared, "I can't get out of my mind those wonderful brioches we ate this morning. I'd do anything to have one now", thinking of how she had lingered on the word 'anything', Robert had invited her to sit on a bench while he had searched half of Paris to find what she wanted.
Cora, on the other hand, with a wide grin on her face had asked Robert, who was now handing her a brioche, where the stoic English Lord was hiding. But the only answer he gave her was a sweet kiss on her lips in front of everyone.
Every time Robert looked at his wife, he could see how enthusiastic she was, and how her eyes shone. He couldn't be more pleased.
He also found out during their visit to the Louvre that she really was an expert on art. The way she explained some things to him, the way she was capable of looking at things, of feeling things that led the painter to use that particular colour or light, left him mesmerised. He had always thought art was quite boring, but with Cora on his arm, it felt different. She was enlightening him with her own knowledge and with her own feelings.
And when she stopped in front of one of Da Vinci's paintings to inspect it closer, he found himself staring at the most beautiful masterpiece he had never laid eyes on: his wife. Her skin was as soft and peachy as the first time he had touched it. Yes; there were more lines on her face, and he started to wander how many of those lines had been caused by him. Probably the majority of them.
Her lips were a bit corrugated as a result of her deep concentration, and her eyes were following invisible patterns unknown to him on the surface of the canvas.
"Isn't it beautiful, Robert?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the painting. Then she turned to him, blushing deeply when she discovered he was looking at her instead of the painting.
"Yes," he replied in a whisper. "A true masterpiece".
The next day, they visited the cathedrals, the Arc de Triumphe and finally the Eiffel Tower. She had begged Robert to take her to the iron tower despite her fear of heights. She was so overcome by joy and the thrilling sensation that she lead a reluctant Robert up the stairs to reach the top, when she suddenly stopped and started to tremble, her hand on the cold railing.
"Robert, I'm sorry. I was so excited that I thought I could do it, but I'm afraid I can't. My legs won't move. Oh, it's such a pity. I wanted so much to see the landscape from there. I'm so sorry."
He immediately encircled her waist with his arm. He felt so guilty. Maybe he should have questioned a bit more when she had told him she wanted to climb the tower. But now it was too late. He had to find a solution.
"My dear, there's nothing for which to be sorry. Do you feel dizzy?"
"No, it's not that. I'm fine; it's just that I can't move my legs."
And then solution came to him in the blink of an eye. "Do you trust me, Cora?"
"Yes, Robert. With all my heart."
"Good. Now put your arms around my neck." She did as he asked, and in a quick motion he was holding her in his arms. She squealed a bit at the unexpected gesture and then kissed her husband on his cheek.
"You said you wanted to reach the top, and you will reach it, Cora," he said, starting to climb the stairs.
"Robert, you don't have to do it. I'm too heavy for you, and we are not young anymore."
"Darling, you are always as light as a feather, and we are not old. We are the two youngest grandparents I've ever seen."
She started laughing, reassured by Robert's secure embrace, her fear long-forgotten during their ascent. When they reached the top they were rewarded by a wonderful view, all the city lying beneath them.
"Oh, Robert, it's beautiful! Thank you very much for holding me in your arms, and for climbing all those stairs for me."
"You are very welcome, my dear."
