Hi guys! Thank you very much for all your messages and reviews...you made my day.
Here's a small update, forgive me but it had to stay on its own. The last one will be longer...I promise :)
As soon as Robert closed the door, Cora leaned against it, her body shaking under the power of her anger and disappointment. She was still wearing her favourite evening dress, which was now creased and stained with her tears, but she didn't care and let her body slide down until she reached the floor.
How could she, the Countess of Grantham, be in such a state? At her age; crying and sobbing like a girl, and for what? Or, more appropriately, for whom? The answer was easy: for him; for Robert.
She thought they could live a long and happy life together, now that the children were independent and had their own families. But, obviously, she was mistaken.
After only two days with her husband, he had left her alone with no explanation.
Everything had seemed so perfect to her the preceding days, so bloody perfect; but she knew she was an old woman now, and maybe he wasn't attracted to her anymore. She had to expect this; among their peers it was conceded. But she didn't think something like that would have happened to her marriage.
Drying her wet cheeks with her palms, she looked up and noticed something on her bed, but she couldn't quite recognise it. Her sight was still blurred by her tears.
What was it? Was it a silk ribbon? She was not entirely sure, but maybe there was also a box. She got up, trying to smooth the wrinkles out of her dress, and covered the distance between the door and the bed. There was indeed a box with a silk ribbon. Who left it here? One of the servants? No, she hadn't ordered anything.
Not finding a through answer, she decided to open it.
She took the lid off and above the tissue paper, which was hiding the contents of the box from her view, there was an envelope. Her name was written on it: "Cora". She knew the hand who wrote her name; she knew it very well. Now it was clear who had left the box on her bed: her husband. Turning the envelope in her hand, she brought it to her nose, a familiar smell filling her nostrils and she began to smile. There was a message in it:
My dearest one,
I see you when you think I do not. I notice every move you make; everything you do making me fall more and more in love with you.
I saw you admiring this in the shop window, but I have to say that I don't agree with you. You are most certainly not too old to wear such a beautiful garment. But the beauty of the gown pales in comparison to the beauty of she who will wear it.
Yours always,
Robert
She put a hand over her mouth, reading the message again and again, tears of joy and realisation falling on her cheeks. It was all a big misunderstanding. He had left her that morning because he wanted to buy this dress for her, and only for her.
"Oh, my," she whispered, opening the tissue paper and finally revealing the content. She took the dress out of the box, her hands already running along the silk embroidered stars of the bodice. She had been horrible to Robert and had said terrible things. Oh, she felt so ashamed. She had to apologise to him and, looking at the beautiful dress which now was laying on her bed, she knew there was only one thing she could do.
This was an emergency and she needed help; as soon as possible. She needed a maid to help her fix her hair, her face and help her into the dress. And she needed her now. She couldn't waste any more time. Rushing her steps, she finally managed to pull the bell cord. Instead of waiting patiently until someone would come, she began fumbling with her evening dress to get rid of it as quickly as possible.
Sooner than expected she was ready and, after having dismissed the maid, she was looking at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was beautiful and perfect in every detail and wearing it, thinking of what Robert had said in his letter, made her feel like her heart could explode.
"Well" she thought "I think I should go now".
Since leaving the bedroom, Robert was sitting on a chair in the hall with his gaze fixed on the tip of his shoes and a glass in his right hand. He had had the temptation to pour himself something strong to try to drown his sorrow, but he couldn't. He promised Cora to avoid alcohol as much as possible, but now he was wishing his glass was full of scotch instead of water. He was constantly thinking about the conversation he had with Cora. But sitting on that chair while she was in her room crying, and he knew it because he had heard her sobbing as soon as he had closed the door, was totally useless.
He had to fix it, and soon. He had even thought to call the butler and tell him to cancel the evening he had so happily planned and clear it all, but now he felt he had to take a chance.
He put the glass on the table and, clearing his throat, he stood up, but after having moved the first step towards the stairs, he stopped.
"Robert?"
There she was, at the top of the stairs, wearing the dress he had purchased for her that morning. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and he found himself unable to move or to speak.
When she reached the bottom of the staircase, she stretched her arm in his direction and instead of taking it, he pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Oh, I'm so sorry...it was just a huge misunderstanding," she said, trying to look into his eyes.
"Shh, my dear; don't apologise."
It had always been like that for them. Most of the time they didn't need to speak; a light touch of their hands, a loving smile, even the tiniest nod across the dinner table was enough for them to know that, despite everything, they loved each other.
"You are beautiful. I can hardly express with words how stunning you are, my dear."
"Oh Robert, you make me blush."
He grinned at her. She wanted to lower her gaze, but she simply couldn't leave his eyes.
"Would you join me for dinner?"
"Of course, Robert. I'd like it very much."
