Cora was relieved that when she woke, Robert had already gotten up from bed and was, presumably, either in his dressing room or having breakfast downstairs. She rolled over toward the light and let it warm her face. She felt dreadful. For the third morning in a row now, she'd felt the unmistakable collywobbles of - oh, dare she even think it? But she knew, with Mary she hadn't at all, with Edith she'd thought those early grinding headaches and sickness to be slightly familiar, but with this one she was almost immediately certain. Another child.
She rolled over on to her back and closed her eyes. She'd rung for Hughes, so she knew soon enough she would have to sit up. Just a few moments more to linger, she thought. She liked her new lady's maid much more than any she'd had before. Hughes wasn't all that much older than her and didn't seem to be put off by her Americanness in the least. In fact, she seemed to enjoy Cora's stories of her gilded American childhood. Though, Cora did find it curious that Hughes had little to say about her own family. Perhaps she didn't think it proper, but Cora wouldn't have minded. She desperately wanted a friend. Robert - and Violet - had tried to instill in her that being "friendly" with "the domestics" just wasn't how things were done, but Cora thought that was quite unreasonable. Cora could tell that Robert thought very highly of his valet. He had known Carson since they were boys, running around the estate, not yet old enough to know what social constructs were destined to ruin their boyhood friendship. Was it really so unreasonable to think that in Hughes, Cora may find herself more than just someone to help her lace her corset?
She groaned. Soon enough that wouldn't be necessary. Just as the thought left her mind, she heard a small tap on the door and Hughes stepped in. She crossed the room, tray in hand, and smiled brightly at Cora.
"Good morning, m'lady." Elsie hushed, waiting patiently next to the bed for Cora to sit up. She found it a little troubling - for the third morning now her ladyship had not already been up and reading or brushing out her hair by the time she brought her tray up. If Elsie wasn't mistaken, it seemed that the Countess' face also looked a bit sallow.
"Thank you, Hughes." Cora said, propping herself up on her elbows, "If you don't mind, would you set it on the dresser? I am feeling rather poorly this morning."
Elsie frowned, "I thought perhaps you were, m'lady. The last few morns' you've seemed out of sorts."
Finally sitting up, though with her eyes closed and her face in a tight grimace, Cora sighed. "Yes, well. . ."
"I'll go ring for a doctor, if you'd like?"
Her azure eyes opening, Cora's face softened, "I will need for you to ring for him today, but you needn't hurry. I know why I'm ill - or at least, I'm nearly certain."
Elsie paused, waiting for Cora to elaborate. When she didn't, she urged her on with her eyes, and then "M'lady, if you don't mind, I don't mean to pry but is it something I ought to know? Something serious?"
Cora almost had to laugh at her lady's maid's grave expression. She reached out to take Elsie's hand and squeezed it, "No, Hughes. You're darling to be so concerned. I am poorly now and suspect I will be for a few more weeks at least, but it is a most natural occurrence." she flicked her eyes up at Elsie coyly, "I've been through it twice before."
It took her a moment for her ladyship's words to fully register, but then, when Elsie realized what Cora was saying to her, she couldn't help but feel a swell of excitement rise in her chest.
"Oh, m'lady - a bairn?"
Cora shushed her, "I haven't told Robert, haven't told anyone except for you. And I don't even know for certain - though it is a very peculiar feeling that I have only experience twice before - with my girls."
Her heart grew heavy. Elsie didn't know just what her ladyship was feeling, and for a moment she thought that she felt a bit envious of her. She patted Cora's hand reassuringly and let her own feelings subside. It wasn't her job to feel anything about it, so, she wouldn't.
"I think I shall be able to wear my corset for at least a few more weeks, so, I suppose I ought to get up." Cora said wearily, though, she did have a small smile on her face. And Elsie thought, too, that there was a bit of a glow to her eyes that hadn't been there the week before.
Setting the tray down on the vanity, Elsie wiped her hands on her skirt and walked back to the bed. Cora had, with exasperation, swung her legs over the side of the bed and was preparing to stand up when a look of great fatigue crossed her brow. She looked up helplessly at Elsie, like a sick child.
"Hughes, would you help me to the bath? I'm afraid I'm going to be ill."
Rushing to her side, she gave her hands to Cora who took them, dizzily standing.
"Lean on me, m'lady, I'll steady you." Elsie said, walking her slowly toward the adjacent bathroom. No sooner had they crossed the threshold than Cora lunged out of Elsie's grasp and headed for the sink basin.
"Oh, m'lady!" Elsie soothed, following her and running her hand along Cora's back. She brought both her hands up to each side of Cora's head and stroked her hair, which had begun to come undone, away from her face.
"Hughes, I'm so sorry!" Cora choked, "I'm terribly embarrassed."
"M'lady," Elsie laughed, "You've nothing to fret over. Nothing so natural in the world as this - the curse of Eve, so it is."
Cora retched again and from behind them, Elsie heard footsteps approaching. Before she could turn she heard the Earl's brusque voice from the doorway.
"What's going on?" he said, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. Elsie didn't turn to him right away, but a small smile did cross her lips. Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham, was many things - and in private, she had learned quickly, he was as squeamish a man as she had ever met.
"Cora, are you unwell?" he said, approaching them. Cora straightened and sighed heavily, "I'll be fine, Robert. You needn't worry yourself."
Robert looked helplessly at Hughes, and the lady's maid gave him a sympathetic smile. Before she could responed, Cora heaved once more into the basin. Robert recoiled in horror.
"She'll be right as rain, m'lord-" Elsie said, quickly trying to keep Cora's ever-falling hair out of the sink.
"Don't sell me the dog, Hughes." Robert stuttered, "Should I ring for Dr. Clarkson? We were supposed to depart for London today."
Cora wiped her mouth on her hand, looking at Elsie desperately. "I don't want him to see me in this way, Hughes!" she whispered hoarsely. Elsie turned back to Robert and sighed heavily,
"Why don't you go and fetch Dr. Clarkson, m'lord."
Robert nodded, a bit disoriented still, and backed slowly out the room. He hadn't even the wits about him to shut the door properly, and as Cora gave another pained heave, Elsie tried to decide if she had wits about her enough to scurry across the room to shut it.
When Carson stumbled upon a rather sullen looking Robert in the library, he halted in mid-step as he entered the dimly lit oasis of polished wood, burgundy and literature.
"Pardon me, m'lord. I thought you had gone upstairs." he said, bowing his head. Robert lifted his face from his hands.
"Quite alright, Carson. I'm glad you're here." he stood up, wringing his hands as if he hadn't any idea what to do with them. "Cora's taken ill."
Carson's brow furrowed, "I'm sorry to hear it. Should I ring for Dr. Clarkson?"
"I have and he's on his way." Robert said. Realizing he hadn't anywhere to go, he slunk back down on the settee and heaved a rather audibly sigh. "I feel that I may have hurt her feelings just now. She was. . .sick. Hughes was with her, thank heavens." he looked up at Carson for reassurance, "I'm rather mad as hops about the nuances of female life, I'm afraid."
"I'm sure her ladyship understands, m'lord. I daresay that's why women have lady's maids."
Robert nodded. Perhaps Carson was right. Hughes had seemed perfectly comfortable to take care of Cora - yet, still, he felt a tug of regret that he had not been able to help. Though, part of him wondered if he'd only have mucked it up by staying.
"Well, if Dr. Clarkson is on his way, if you don't need anything else at the moment I'll take my leave." Carson said.
"Yes, keep on then." Robert said, watching Carson leave the room. He was suddenly overwhelmed by loneliness and a sharp pang of uselessness. No sooner had he felt thus that he heard the girls coming down the stairs with Nanny. He rose quickly and accosted them from the doorway to the library, desperate for a distraction.
"Nanny! Come, do bring the girls into the library. I've a moment for a visit."
Nanny- a stout, Parisian woman who had come on after Mary was born- narrowed her eyes at Robert. "We were headed out for our morning walk, m'lord." she said, her delicate accent trilling around the W's. "But I suppose-" she looked down at the girls who seemed a bit thrown off by their pause.
"Come, my darlings, come sit by the fire with your Papa for a moment."
Mary, who had just turned five, gave her father a peculiar glance. Mary was the kind of child who thrived on the order and routine of nursery life. Having an interruption to her schedule -even for something as delightful as visiting with her Papa, made her visibly fret. Edith, on the other hand, all blonde curls and bounce at almost four, let go of Nanny's skirts and raced into the library ahead of her Papa, animatedly chatting away. Nanny gave Mary a nudge to follow her younger sister, and she did so, but stepped carefully over the threshold to the library.
Robert sat on the settee closest to the fire, which, at this still early morning hour had yet to be roaring, and lifted Edith into his lap. She and Mary were like oil and water - two daughters, two girls, couldn't be more at odds. While Mary was dark and elegant like Cora, Edith was in many ways more like Robert's sister, Lady Rosamond. With her soft blonde curls and wide-awake eyes, Edith was always bursting for attentions. Mary was more quiet, reserved - that is, until Edith did something to annoy her, in which case she was capable of almost an adult's level of indignance.
"Poppet, come join us then." Robert encouraged, patting the settee. Mary sauntered over, trying to appear unimpressed, and hopped up alongside him and the ever-chattering Edith. Robert had to stifle a laugh when he saw Mary pointedly fold her hands in her lap and cross her little feet at the ankles. She was already turning into quite the young lady.
"I see Mary's taken well to her etiquette lessons, Nanny." Robert said. Nanny blushed, her eyes sparkling from the praise.
"Oh, yes m'lord. After all, it's in her blood. She is the perfect petite mademoiselle."
"Papa?" Edith said, her voice approaching shrillness, "Do you?"
He hadn't heard her - poor thing, sometimes it was so easy to just allow her to carry on without actually hearing what it was she had to say.
"I'm sorry pet, what did you ask me?"
Edith's face fell at the realization she wasn't being listened to.
"Nothing." she said, sliding off Robert's lap disappointedly. Before he could protest, he saw Dr. Clarkson appear in the doorway.
"You'll have to excuse me Nanny. Carry on." he said rushing past her.
"Goodbye, Papa!" Edith cried, running toward the doorway. Mary gingerly stepped down off the settee and folded her arms across her chest.
"May we go for our walk now, madam?"
A/N You all are so kind! As someone did point out, however, in the previous chapter it is somewhat unlikely that Carson as valet would have done the tea-pouring - oops! Stuck in my canon ways with that one, I think! Forgive me. Since this story is pre-series I'm making a lot of assumptions - a major one (needed to make the mini-Valentine's Day plot work) is that I'd place Sybil's birth in late October, and I think most agree it was really more like Nov/Dec. - I promise it'll all be worth it in terms of weaving a great story, not just to explore early cobert but CHELSIE as well, which is a ship I didn't know I'd enjoy writing so much - but something to be said about sweet, sweet somewhat unrequited love! xx