Late April, 1922
"Edith, will you please stop hovering. I am not ill; I do not need a nursemaid! And Anna knows perfectly well what she's doing," Mary exclaimed in exasperation. "You would have thought I was home from a long stay in hospital instead of simply living with Isobel for a few weeks, the way you're fussing over me!"
In fact, Mary had been at her mother-in-law's for nearly a month. She'd arrived home about a week ago, when Edith started mothering her mercilessly.
Her cheeks growing pink, Edith took a step back. "I didn't realize, Mary. I'll go if you like." She began to turn away.
Watching her heavy steps in the mirror, Mary sighed. "No, don't go, Edith." Her eyes found the reflection of her lady's maid's. "Anna, might you see if Mama would let me borrow her black spangled shawl? The one I've been wearing is too heavy for the warmer weather."
Putting one last pin in Mary's chignon, Anna nodded and said, "Yes, my lady. I'll fetch it now." She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Mary turned now in her chair, beginning to tug on a pair of black evening gloves. "I didn't mean to snap at you, Edith. I know you mean well."
Edith perched on the edge of a chair. "I just keep remembering the things I said to you, and it makes me feel awful. I never wanted anything bad to happen." She bowed her head, her hands clasped in her lap.
Stopping herself from rolling her eyes, Mary looked over at her sister. "You never said you did, Edith. And, as for the rest of it – you were right."
Her head snapped up in incredulity. "What?"
"Yes, you were right. I knew it in part the night of the servants' ball. Granny overheard us, and she spoke to me." Mary turned back to her dressing table to fasten on a pair of plain black earrings. "The rest…. Edith, I had a lot of time to think whilst at Isobel's. And it was wrong of me to be resentful of Mama." Here she looked down.
Edith stood and came over to her sister, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We don't have to speak about that anymore. It's done. Especially if you accept my apology for my behavior."
Mary lifted her head and sighed. "Of course I do. And I hope you'll accept mine."
Nodding, Edith pressed Mary's shoulder.
"But, Edith, would you do one thing for me?" Mary met her eyes in the glass and held them with her own.
"Yes, Mary?"
"Might you stop mothering me so much? I already have two mothers; I don't need a third." Mary smiled a little and was gratified when the smile was returned. "But I'll take a sister."
Cora reclined in her husband's favorite chair after dinner, it being the most comfortable to her at the moment. She knew he wouldn't have minded, even if he wasn't still in the dining room with Tom and Dr. Clarkson.
Smoothing her hands over her black-clad baby bump, she shifted slightly against the cushion she'd put at the small of her back and then uncrossed her ankles and recrossed them the other way on the ottoman. Now, having gotten a trifle more comfortable, she gazed around the room. Edith and Violet were on the settee not too far from her, conversing in low voices to where she couldn't hear. Violet had inquired earlier if Cora might be too tired to stay the rest of the evening, but Cora had smiled at her and said that she was happy to venture downstairs when she could and would stay as long as she didn't fall asleep. Her mother-in-law had smiled and patted her hand as Edith helped her mother into the chair.
Mary and Isobel stood by a window together, talking. Isobel had suggested they invite Dr. Clarkson that evening, to which no one objected. He'd been so kind to all the family over the past month, that they were happy to include him for dinner. Furthermore, although Isobel's visage had acquired quite a few lines since her son's death, and her grief was clearly visible, Cora thought she'd detected a blush on Isobel's cheeks and a tiny spark in her eyes when there was any mention of Dr. Clarkson. Tonight, seeing them in the same room made clear to Cora that there was something budding between the two of them. She knew Isobel would never completely get over losing Matthew – after all, could Cora ever completely get over losing Sybil? – but she also knew, especially after tonight, that Isobel would be just fine, eventually.
It was Mary for whom she worried. True to her word, while she'd been staying at Isobel's, Mary had come by or telephoned at least once a day, to reassure her mother that she was alright. But Cora wasn't at all certain that Mary was alright. Cora watched her daughter with concern. Isobel spoke to her, but Mary's eyes stared unseeingly into the darkness outside the window. It was difficult to know which was more startling: the pallor or the pinched aspect of her countenance. She'd been losing weight as well, her dresses hanging on her, even though her mother knew that Mary ate – more than she would have thought she might in her obvious misery. She wondered if something else was wrong, something other than grief. Cora tore her eyes from her daughter and fixed them upon her own hands that rested on her belly instead.
In the next moment, Mary turned her face toward her mother, observing how she lovingly cradled the ever more pronounced bulge of her stomach. Though no longer resentful of her mother's pregnancy – as she'd told Edith earlier – she couldn't help feeling a stab of envy, a feeling she endeavored to bury as soon as it appeared. She and Matthew had tried to have a baby for over a year before Mary decided to visit a specialist – Dr. Ryder, in fact, at her mother's suggestion. After a small operation in January (about which only her mother knew) and a weeks' recovery, she'd assumed that it wouldn't take long. But now….
Now she wasn't sure of anything – save that she missed her husband terribly.
After about a quarter of an hour more, just as Cora was beginning to nod off, the gentlemen came into the room. Robert's eyes went directly to his wife, as always, grinning at her as she jerked awake. She grinned back at him and extended her hand as he approached her. Robert took it and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.
Mary saw this out of the corner of her eye as she watched Tom and Dr. Clarkson also wander in. Tom went over to her mother and father to see if they needed anything. Dr. Clarkson walked over to Violet and Edith, his eyes flickering to Isobel. Mary saw Isobel blush, but it didn't really register, since she was wondering what was keeping Matthew.
Then she remembered. Becoming dizzy and feeling ill all of a sudden, she put her hand on the window sill. "Isobel, I think I need to go up to bed. Make my excuses to the others?" Mary's voice was scarcely a whisper. "I'm sorry…." she trailed off and rushed out of the room, several shades paler than she'd even been in the past weeks and covering her mouth.
Cora's eyes followed her out of the room, then she turned to Isobel, her hand tightening around Robert's. "Isobel, what happened?"
Isobel started toward the others. "I'm not sure. She said only that she thought she needed to go to bed." Her brow creased with concern, her eyes meeting Dr. Clarkson's across the room.
"Robert, I should go to her," Cora said, looking up at him.
Edith rose from her place on the settee. "No, Mama, I'll go." She and her mother exchanged nods, and Edith exited the room.
"Mary?" Edith knocked on the half open door to her sister's bedroom. When she got no answer, she went ahead in, stopping when she saw no one. Then she saw the light coming from the washroom. "Mary, it's Edith." She rapped her knuckles on door. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, Edith," came Mary's voice. "You can come in."
Edith entered the washroom where Mary stood over the sink, wiping her face with a wet cloth. "Do you need anything?"
Mary shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I'm just very tired. You know me; I'm never down for long." But she sighed. "Would you ring the bell for Anna for me?"
"Of course."
As Edith turned to fulfill this request, Mary looked at her. "Edith, could you do me one other favor?" Edith faced her again, and Mary continued, saying, "Please don't tell Mama I've been ill. I don't want to worry her."
Edith stared at her. "Don't you think she's already worried?" She went on without waiting for Mary's answer. "No, I won't say anything. But if you get worse, I'll have to say something to someone." She left to ring for Anna.
"Robert?" Cora whispered into their darkened room.
"What is it, Cora?" he murmured sleepily into her neck. They'd been in bed for a little while now, and he was nestled up behind her, one arm beneath her neck and the other wrapped around her belly, his chest against her back.
"Would you mind backing up a bit? I'm hot." She hated asking him, but she was beginning to perspire with a hot flash.
Robert immediately complied, not necessarily wanting to let go, but knowing it would make her more comfortable. "Would you like some water, sweetheart?" He switched on her bedside lamp and watched as she turned onto her back, then helped her into a sitting position.
She pulled at her night dress, nodding. "Please?"
He poured her a glass of water from the carafe kept on her bedside table, then handed it to her. Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he noticed her tugging at her night dress. "Darling, let me." He unbuttoned the bodice of the night dress for her while she drank, then helped pull it over her head when she'd put the glass aside. He disappeared into the washroom, returning with a wet cloth, which he ran over her flushed face and chest.
Cora observed his tender actions with a grateful look. "Thank you, my love." She picked up a book from his bedside table and fanned herself with it. "I still can't get used to sleeping on your side of the bed," she remarked.
Robert chuckled as he continued to run the cloth over her. "Well, if you want me to sleep this close to you, and you have to sleep on your left side, it's the only way." He raised his eyes to hers. "Unless, of course, you want to sleep with our heads at the foot of the bed," he said playfully.
She laughed. "It's not as if we haven't done that before."
"Not on purpose, though." He smirked at her.
"No, not on purpose." Cora touched his cheek, her breathing becoming easier.
Robert gently lifted the locks curled with dampness away from her forehead, pressing the cloth against it. Cora closed her eyes. "Feeling better?" he asked.
She nodded, still fanning herself. "Yes, a little." When she opened her eyes again, her brow furrowed. "Robert, I'm concerned about Mary."
Refolding the cloth, he looked down, his head moving slowly up and down. "I know. So am I. Edith said she was fine, but…."
"You see it too, don't you?" Cora put the book aside and laid a hand on his.
Robert raised his head. "She looks unwell. Beyond grief. We need to convince her to see Dr. Clarkson."
Cora's eyes held his. "I agree. I'll talk to her tomorrow. We're going to take Sybbie for a walk in the gardens in the morning."
Now Robert moved closer, grazing his fingers across his wife's cheek. "Are you sure you need to be walking around the gardens?"
"Oh, darling, don't be silly. I'll be fine. I need the exercise. And I can't stay cooped up here all the time. I'll go mad." She gazed at him tenderly. "I'll stop and rest, at every bench if it will put you at ease, Robert."
"It would, in fact." He took her hand and kissed it, keeping his eyes on hers. "And come inside the minute you feel tired." He turned her hand and placed another gentle kiss on the underside of her wrist.
"I will," she said.
"Besides, I'm not sure that you don't get enough exercise already." He glanced up at her, mischief on his face, as his lips made their way up the soft skin of her forearm.
Cora smirked at him, picking up the cloth he'd discarded and dropping it on the floor. "No? Well, then I'm not sure you need to be going much farther up there, darling."
"Oh, you misunderstand me, Cora. I'm just putting you back to bed." He had noticed that her skin had lost its flush of heat, but now her cheeks were red and she giggled.
"In that case, carry on." She closed her eyes as he traveled over the inside of her elbow and up to her shoulder, and caused chills to reach all through her body when he dipped his tongue into the hollow of her collar bone. Cora put a hand to the nape of his neck as he finally pressed his lips to hers, pulling him closer and urging him to kiss her deeper.
Robert did as she wanted for several moments, then sat back. "Now, I don't want you to get too warm again, so…." He slid her undergarments down and off, making her giggle again. "Nor would I want to affect you…." He began unbuttoning his night shirt, leaning forward to kiss her once more.
Cora put her hands on either side of his face, holding him there while he worked his way out of his night shirt. She let him go so he could divest himself of the rest of his garments. Then he bent toward her again, kissing her soundly as her hands reached up to his chest, trailing her fingertips through his curls and over his nipples.
Making a series of low groans at her touches, he continued to kiss her, extending his arms around behind her head to loosen her hair from its ribbon – a very familiar shade of emerald green. He let this drop as he thrust his hands into her dark tresses. As her hands wandered farther down, his moans became gruffer.
"It's a shame you can't put on that green scarf for me," he breathed in her ear, "seeing that color in your hair put a decidedly delicious image in my head." His head tilted down so he could suck gently at the delicate skin of her throat.
Her breathing came in gasps at his attentions, but she managed to murmur, "I could go get it, darling. If you like…."
"No, sweetheart." He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire. "It's time for bed." With this statement, he helped her shift down and rest on her left side again, then stretched his arm behind him to switch off the light. "Are you comfortable, my love?" He asked, settling behind her, never forgetting her condition, even as much as he needed her.
Cora turned her head back. "Yes. Robert, please…." She reached back and found his arousal, stroking him.
"God, Cora –" Robert took her hand from him and kissed it, curling his body more closely around hers. Bent at the knee, he put one of his legs between hers and pushed himself into her gently, picking up the hand she had rested upon his hip and knitting his fingers through hers. Slowly, he began moving against her, taking the bulk of the motion onto himself, as the larger she grew, the more difficult it was for her to move along with him. He didn't mind, as long as he could still thrill and delight her this way, and it didn't cause her discomfort, it was more than worth it for him.
Kissing along the soft skin of her back, Robert began to increase his tempo as Cora's low sighs and small gasps transformed into deeper and more guttural sounds and she wriggled her hips, sending waves of pure pleasure into his very core. Suddenly, her legs clamped around his, and he withdrew his own leg as he felt her other hand find its way between her legs. She shuddered around his arousal, her breathing ragged, squeaks escaping her throat. "Robert," she whispered as she grew still, catching her breath.
After this, recognizing that she was too tired to let him continue to send her over the edge, he allowed himself to feel fully how she still contracted around him. Not holding back, he brought her hand to his lips once more as he thrust into her one final time, then rocked his hips gently to and fro against hers a few times before also stilling, nuzzling his forehead into her neck.
Cora felt his breath against her shoulders. "Darling?" she whispered, pulling his arm around her, their fingers still intertwined.
"Yes, sweetheart." He pressed light kisses to her back.
"Aren't you going to tuck us in now?" She chuckled wearily.
Robert lifted his head a little. "I need my hand for just a moment then," he pointed out, chuckling gently with her.
She brought his hand up to her mouth and placed her lips upon the back of each finger before letting it go.
Robert stretched an arm down to pull the bed clothes up over them, tucking them tenderly around her. "Is that better?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her again and resting it upon her baby bump.
"Yes." Cora turned her head a bit. "Kiss me goodnight?"
Smiling in the dark, he sat up a little and crushed his lips to hers in a long kiss. When he ended it, Robert said, "Oh, how I love you, my heart. Sweet dreams."
Cora put her hand over his on her bump, looking up to where she could make out the outline of his face. "I love you too, my darling. Goodnight."
Giving her one more tender kiss, Robert settled against her once more, cradling her in his arms until the two of them fell asleep.
Cora put another pin through her hat in preparation to go outside with Sybbie and Mary – just to be safe. Sybbie had a habit of embracing her a bit zealously, knocking the hat off her head if it wasn't securely pinned.
"Hazel? I'd like you to find my emerald green silk scarf, please." Cora grinned at her reflection in the full-length mirror, smoothing her dress over her belly lovingly. "I think it's either in my dressing table somewhere, or one of my bedside table drawers. Make sure it's clean and pressed for tonight."
The lady's maid glanced up from gathering the laundry. "My lady?" she asked in some confusion. "Green?" She abstractedly touched her own black armband.
Cora shook her head. "Oh, it's not for dinner, Hazel. I want it for something else." She blushed and lowered her lashes. "Just please be sure to find it. I would do it myself, but can't quite bend enough to search through the lower drawers, where I think I left it."
A knowing smile played upon Hazel's lips. "Yes, your ladyship. I'll certainly do that. And take the opportunity to look for any stale food we may have overlooked in the past month."
Laughing, Cora started toward the bedroom door. "I don't think you'll find any, but that's a very good idea. Just in case." Smiling at Hazel again, she left the room to join her daughter and granddaughter at the staircase.
"Mama, do you need help?" Mary had an excited Sybbie on her hip.
Cora looked at Mary with concern. "No, I'm fine. We just have to take it nice and slow here. You mind Sybbie – I'll mind Amelia." She patted her stomach and grasped the banister.
"Gan-mama, Sybbie play wif 'Melia?" Sybbie appeared anxious to meet her new aunt. Ever since she'd been told Grandmama was carrying a baby, she'd been asking if she could play with her.
Mary felt the pain of jealousy once more. She shifted her eyes from her mother to her niece. "It'll still be a while yet, Sybbie dear. Until then, Grandmama is going to keep the baby safe and warm."
Sybbie touched the side of Mary's face. "An-Mare-ee? Gan-mama get bigger?"
Here Cora paused to laugh, answering the question for her daughter. "Yes, Sybbie, Grandmama will probably get even bigger before the baby is ready to make her appearance."
Mary didn't laugh.
They finally made it down the stairs and to the foyer. Carson waited there to open the door for them. "Lady Mary," he said, "a parcel arrived for you this morning."
"Thank you, Carson. Would you tell Anna to put it my room? I'll open it after luncheon." Mary smiled a little at the butler.
"Very good, my lady," he said, nodding his head as he held the door for them.
The two black-clad figures meandered into the gardens. Whereas even only a month before it had looked so bare and bleak, tiny buds being the most prominent sign that anything still lived, now the trees and shrubberies displayed their finest green attire and flowers had sprung up along the path, giving the entire estate a fresh, vibrant aspect. Cora noticed as Mary put Sybbie down to walk, grasping her hand with a "keep hold of Aunt Mary, please; we don't want you wandering off and getting lost," that the little girl, too, wore a frock of deep green. They'd all decided that as long as the colors weren't too bright, she might wear them. None of them wanted to see their sweet, lively Sybbie pent up in black.
Mary stayed mostly silent as she strolled between her mother and her niece. Holding Sybbie's hand helped Mary stay at their pace, as her mother's condition made her tread almost as slowly as Sybbie's normal stride. In fact, Cora's gait was more a waddle than a walk, but Mary would never say this to her, knowing it would hurt her feelings.
True to her promise to her husband, Cora had them stop at the first bench she saw. Waving Mary's hand away, she lowered herself carefully onto the bench to rest. Mary continued to stand, but picked Sybbie up so she could sit next to Cora. Since she could no longer sit on her grandmother's lap, Sybbie had created a game for herself, where she would press her little hands into Cora's belly and wait to see if the baby pressed back. She'd been doing this ever since Cora had shown Sybbie that there was truly a baby inside her by having her feel the movements for herself a couple of months before.
Cora chuckled when Sybbie squealed with delight as the baby kicked at her hands. "Little darling, I think you woke her up." She hoped that the next thing Amelia kicked wouldn't be her bladder.
Leaving Sybbie to her game – having gotten used to this over the past months – Cora observed her daughter. Mary stared out over the estate, appearing to be in a daze. The shadows under her eyes provided a study in contrasts, stark against the pallor of the rest of her face in the morning sunlight.
"Mary, won't you sit down?" Cora's voice was soft.
Pulling herself out of her trance, Mary shook her head. "No, thank you, Mama. I'm fine."
Cora absentmindedly ran her fingers through her granddaughter's hair. "Are you? Are you fine, Mary?"
Mary finally sat on the other side of Sybbie, looking over at her mother. "Mama, my husband is gone. I don't think I'll ever truly be fine." She lowered her eyes to her hands, fiddling with her wedding rings. "Would you be?"
Eyes filling with tears, Cora touched Sybbie's shoulder. "Little one, might you go and pick us some flowers? Right over there?" She pointed to a spot a bit away, but within their range of vision. "Don't go farther than that, alright? Stay where we can see you."
Sybbie stood on the bench and patted her grandmother's face. "Don't cry, Gan-mama. Sybbie pick flowers." Climbing down without help, Sybbie ran off in her little green dress toward the patch of flowers.
Cora slid herself closer to Mary and touched her knee. "No. No, I wouldn't be. And you know that. But, Mary," she said, moving her hand to her chin, lifting it and fixing her blue eyes on her daughter's deep brown ones, "I'm not sure it's just that. We're afraid you may be ill."
"We?" Mary asked, her brows raised, wondering if her sister had said something when she'd promised not to.
Her mother nodded. "We. Your father and I. I think Edith has noticed something too. And I can tell Isobel is worried about you, although she doesn't say so."
"Edith didn't say anything to you?"
A crease appeared on Cora's forehead. "No, she didn't. Mary, we can see something is wrong. More than grief. Please," she pleaded, taking her hand, "your papa and I would feel better if you would see Dr. Clarkson."
"You would, would you?" Mary pulled her hand away. "And what if I don't want to go?"
Cora blinked back tears. To Mary's question she merely said, "Please, Mary. For me."
Mary couldn't stand to see the worry in her mother's eyes. She looked down and swallowed hard, nodding. "Alright, Mama. I'll telephone and ask if he can see me this afternoon."
Leaning forward awkwardly, Cora cupped Mary's cheek and kissed the other. "Thank you, darling."
Once Cora had settled back, Mary put her hand in her mother's again. They watched Sybbie pick flowers for a while, before Cora began to fidget. "Mama? Are you alright?"
Smiling softly, she said, "Yes. I think this little one is trying to stretch, though. I can feel her poking my ribs. Perhaps we can continue our walk?"
Mary smiled back at her, standing. "Do you want help?"
"No, dear," she said, putting her hands on either side of herself on the bench and working her way toward the edge. "Call Sybbie, will you? She's starting to go a bit farther than I'd like." She chuckled. "It's not as if I can catch her up quickly."
"Yes, Mama." Mary kissed her forehead and turned, calling out, "Sybbie, dear, don't pick those. They're weeds." She headed toward her niece.
Cora paused on the edge of the bench, watching Mary swoop her niece up into her arms and cuddle her close. She hoped her daughter would be alright.
Later that afternoon, Dr. Clarkson faced Mary across from his desk in his hospital office. He'd wondered how long it would be before she showed up here. It wasn't his place to say anything to her, and he knew simple grief could explain most of her obvious symptoms. But Isobel had shared a few other things with him – out of her concern for her daughter-in-law – and they had a theory about what might be ailing Mary. However, he couldn't be certain until she consented to an examination.
After asking her a series of questions, Dr. Clarkson nodded, thinking he and Isobel might be right. "I'll need to do a physical exam to be positive about this, Lady Mary."
"Yes, yes, of course, Dr. Clarkson."
"If you'll follow me, then." He stood and ushered her out his office and into a private examination room.
Mary felt like she was holding her breath the entire time once he told her what he thought it could be. How had she not thought of it before? She could only attribute it to her grief not allowing her to see things clearly.
But now that he'd finished the exam and smiled at her, she saw things clearer than she had in a long time.
Mary got back just after the dressing gong. She telephoned Isobel to be certain she was still joining them for dinner.
Anna already awaited Mary upstairs. "Is everything alright, my lady?" she asked, noting the flush in her cheeks.
"Yes, Anna. All is well." She smiled. "But we must hurry; I don't want to be late for dinner." She spotted the package on her dressing table. Mary had forgotten all about it.
After Anna had helped her change into her dinner dress – which was only slightly more elegant than her day dress, the rules of mourning forcing her to wear very few adornments – Mary sat at her dressing table while Anna worked on her hair. Pulling the small parcel to her, she opened it. On top of a black velvet box was a note:
Dear Lady Mary,
We at this establishment wish to send to you our sincere condolences upon your loss. In fact, we believe that this gift was forgotten in the aftermath of this tragedy. Mr. Matthew Crawley had this made for you, and we wanted to make sure you received it. Please do excuse our tardiness in delivering it, and, again, accept our deepest condolences.
Sincere regards,
Greenslade Jewelers
Ripon
Mary blinked back tears and put the note aside. She knew this must be the surprise that Matthew had been on his way to pick up when – when it happened. Carefully, she extracted the black velvet box from the brown paper wrappings. Snapping the lid open, she gasped, bringing Anna's attention to her.
"What is it, Lady Mary?" Anna looked down into the box and nearly gasped herself.
"It's Matthew's last gift to me." She put a timid finger on one of the emeralds in the necklace. "The shop only now got to delivering it." She swallowed, unable to say why they'd had to end up delivering it after all.
"They're gorgeous, my lady." She went back to dressing her hair, where she was almost finished.
"Anna. I want to wear them. Tonight."
Anna's eyes flew up to meet Mary's in the mirror. "Lady Mary, I certainly understand, but –"
She held a hand up to cut her off. Normally Mary would concede Anna's – perfectly legitimate – reservations. She was a widow, after all, and convention, not to mention her granny, would frown on her wearing anything other than black. But, looking down at the emerald and diamond necklace and earrings, tears in her eyes, she couldn't care about convention. She would wear Matthew's gift tonight – and any other time she wanted.
Mary was the last to join the others in the drawing room before dinner. She waited until all eyes fastened upon her. Violet's jaw dropped.
"What are you thinking, Mary? Why would you wear those?"
"Well, Granny, if you let me, I'll tell you. That, and something else." Mary exuded an air of supreme calm as she flicked her eyes to the – again present – Dr. Clarkson and strode to where she could better address the entire room.
Everyone looked at Mary expectantly, wondering at her serene demeanor and staring at the jewels that winked brightly at them in the soft lighting of the drawing room.
"I am wearing this necklace and these earrings because they arrived for me today." She turned her eyes to Isobel. "From Matthew. He had them made for me before he died."
Isobel held a hand over her mouth, her eyes glittering with tears. Dr. Clarkson, who stood next to her, surreptitiously put a hand on her elbow.
Mary continued. "I know I'm supposed to be wearing unrelieved black. I am, after all, a widow in mourning, and I am mourning." She gazed around at her family, continuing. "But I found it appropriate to wear this gift of Matthew's tonight as I tell you something else." Her eyes came to rest on her mother's. "Yes, I am a widow, in mourning. But I'm also going to be a mother."
A cry of astonishment and joy went up in the room. Mary and her mother exchanged a warm smile as the others came forward to embrace the newest expectant mother.
Not long after dinner, both Mary and Cora went upstairs together, both pleading fatigue. It had been the first truly joyous news in a over a month, and the family had given themselves up to it, seeing that Mary was in the mood to celebrate new life, rather than to grieve for what was gone.
The pair linked arms, making their way slowly to Cora's bedroom.
"Mama, I feel a little guilty."
Cora squeezed Mary's arm gently. "Oh, darling, why would you feel guilty?"
"For being happy when I should be sad." She looked at her mother as she opened the door for her.
"Come here, Mary." Cora went into the room and sat in a chair, patting the one beside it. Once Mary had settled next to her, Cora took her hand and said, "I don't think it is wrong of you to be happy about this. We all are happy for you. It's a wonderful thing. We know you miss Matthew; we know you're still sad. But wouldn't he want you to enjoy this blessing? To be glad that part of him – even apart from what will always be in your heart – lives right here?" She reached over and touched Mary's stomach gently.
Mary nodded and smiled down at her mother's hand. Then she looked up, tears wetting her lashes. "Mama, I'm – I'm afraid." She didn't like admitting when she was afraid. But she felt if she could draw strength from anyone – if anyone would understand – it would be her mother.
"What frightens you, my darling?" Cora asked in a whisper.
"I don't know how I can do this alone."
Cora caressed her daughter's cheek, wiping her tears with her thumb. "You won't be. We'll be with you – and Isobel – the whole time. Just like we've been here for Tom and Sybbie. We're your family."
Mary seized her mother's hand in hers and kissed it. "Oh, Mama. Thank you. You can't know how much that means to me." She thought of the resentment and jealousy she'd had toward her mother since learning of her pregnancy, and she wanted nothing more than to prostrate herself at her mother's feet and ask forgiveness. But Cora didn't know anything about any of it, and so Mary simply kissed her mother's hand again and held it tightly between her own. "I'll be here for you too, Mama."
"I know you will, Mary." Cora gazed at her daughter tenderly.
At a soft knock at the door, Cora called, "Come in."
Robert entered the room, taking in the scene of his wife and daughter sitting side by side, clasping hands, their faces tear-streaked. "Is anything wrong?" Closing the door behind him, he approached the two women cautiously.
They both smiled at him. Mary said, "No, Papa. Everything is fine." She glanced over at her mother. "Or it will be. Eventually." Standing, she leaned down to kiss her mother's cheek, then released her hand. "I am feeling very tired, though, so I'll go to bed now."
"Goodnight, Mary. And don't forget what I said to you." Cora nodded at her daughter.
"No, Mama. I won't." Mary turned to her father. "Goodnight, Papa."
Robert pulled his eldest into a tight embrace, "Yes, you'll be alright, my dear. I love you so much, my Mary." He exchanged a glance with his wife over Mary's shoulder, grateful to see that Cora still had a smile gracing her features. He released Mary with a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight. Sleep well."
They watched Mary depart, then turned and looked at one another. "Is she alright, Cora?" Robert asked.
Cora nodded again, running her hands over her stomach. "Like she said, my love – she will be. And until she is, she knows we are right here to hold her hand if she needs us to."
"I'm glad." He put a hand on either arm of the chair and leaned down, placing his lips on hers tenderly. "I'll ring for Perkins, shall I? And I'll be back in just a little while." He walked over and pulled the bell cord at her gesture of assent, then went into his dressing room.
When Hazel came upstairs, she flourished the green silk scarf at her mistress, grinning. "We heard the good news, downstairs, my lady. Might I be so bold as to congratulate you?"
Cora laughed. "Yes, you might. Thank you, Hazel. And thank you for finding the scarf for me."
"It's my pleasure, your ladyship. Now, what are your plans for this scarf?" Hazel asked as she helped Cora out of the chair in which she sat and onto her dressing table chair. She blushed, realizing she might have overstepped her bounds a bit with her question.
Lifting eyes full of mirth to her lady's maid's reflection in the mirror, Cora began removing her jewelry as Hazel took down her hair. "I think I'll keep that to myself," she said mischievously, her own cheeks becoming flushed. "But – leave my hair down, will you?" She lowered her lashes and grinned.
Dismissing Hazel after she'd helped her into her night dress – and just her night dress, Cora telling her that her undergarments were chafing her and she'd rather do without (at which Hazel's eyebrows raised considerably, but she said nothing) – Cora made a few last preparations of her own, then waited.
When Robert opened the door between the two rooms, he stopped short, inhaling sharply at the sight that met his eyes. "Even better than I imagined," he said under his breath, a wide grin spreading across his face.
Cora reclined upon the chaise longue, her hair loose around her shoulders. She'd wrapped the green scarf about her in a manner familiar to Robert, knotted below her right shoulder. The silk that once barely met at her side and reached almost mid-thigh now only just touched the top of her legs over her baby bump, and his eyes were treated to a beautiful glimpse of a breast and a view of all of her right hip.
He bounded across the room to her, unable to wait one moment longer to take her in his arms and caress her, to graze his fingers over her creamy, smooth skin. He kissed her fervently as he knelt by the chaise, a worshiper at the couch of his goddess.
Threading his fingers through her hair, loving that she knew how much he appreciated when she left it loose for him, he gazed at her for a few moments, basking in the light of her smile. "You are more beautiful to me today than you were then, the first night you wore this for me. And I still think there is no finer garment in your wardrobe, my darling."
Placing a hand on either side of his face, Cora caressed his cheeks tenderly. "And you, my love, are more handsome every day." She reached up one hand to brush his hair back at his temple. "Something about the silver in your hair drives me to distraction."
"Does it?" he asked, genuinely curious. "I just thought I was beginning to look old."
"No, darling. Not at all. Handsome." Cora leaned up just a little to kiss the cleft in his chin. "I'm so glad you're all mine."
Robert smiled at her. "Yours and only yours, my love," he whispered, before covering her lips with his once more and tugging at the knot in the green scarf, letting it fall away.
A/N: The green scarf first made its appearance in my Valentine's Day Fic, "Open Your Eyes," in Chapter 3. It has since been a favorite among my readers - and with Robert.
Green: "youth, fertility, life, growth, healing, renewal, generosity, vigor, spring" – but also "misfortune, envy"