A/N, Hello lovelies! Sorry this took a bit longer. I'm getting ready to adopt a pup and, on top of that, we had a terrible blizzard here in the northeast U.S. and so there's been no heat, power, etc. for many days! But here's a little bit more for you. . .thank you again for being so dear and reading, commenting, sharing on Tumblr. . .you're the best!
"Do come here my darlings!" Rosamund cheered, clapping her gloved hands together. She had come to the train station to retrieve her dear brother and little nieces from the train. She was pleased, too, to see Robert's valet, the wonderful Charles Carson. She'd known him since she was just a girl and had grown to enjoy his presence when Robert would visit her.
Edith made a beeline for her, as usual. Rosamund wouldn't dream of playing favorites, but she did have a soft spot for little Edith. How hard it must be to be in her sister's shadow. Mary was, even at five, already rather a force to be reckoned with. But Edith was very sweet — a bit chatty, incessantly question-asking, but very sweet.
"Edith, my little love, how happy I am to see you!" she said, sweeping the little girl up into her arms, "Are you terribly excited to visit your dear Auntie Rosamund?"
Edith giggled, wrapping her arms around Rosamund's neck. Robert came over to her and kissed his sister on the cheek, Mary in tow.
"Rosamund, my dear sister." he said, "Wonderful to see you."
"And you, Robert. Tell me- how is Cora?"
"Fine, fine." he smiled. "Mary, do say hello to your Aunt Rosamund."
Mary looked up at Rosamund somewhat calculatingly. "Hello, Aunt Rosamund." she said.
"Hello, Mary darling." Rosamund said, "I bet you are just bursting about going to Hamely's!"
At this, Mary smiled widely. "Oh yes!"
"As soon as Carson's retrieved your bags, Marmaduke will bring our new motorwagen round to take you back to Eaton Square."
"A motorwagen!" Robert said, "How modern of you."
Rosamund blushed, "Oh, well, Marmaduke insisted. Sort of a post-marital gift for us both!"
"Well, it will be exciting for the girls. And perhaps more excitement than our dear Carson will be able to handle."
Lumbering up the platform, Carson came along, arms bursting with suitcases. They were only staying in London overnight, but what with two young girls, there was much to carry to and fro when one travelled. As he huffed, he was intercepted just before he reached Robert and Rosamund by a tall, stately chap, dressed in a fine, pressed suit — his red hair glinting beneath his bowler cap.
"Mr. Carson, do let me help you!" he said, taking a bag from Carson just as it fell from his arms.
"Oh, Mr. Painswick, I couldn't-" Carson said, though he was clearly relieved at having a hand.
"It's no trouble at all, . I've got to show you to the motor anyhow."
Carson looked shocked, "The motor, Mr. Painswick?"
Marmaduke laughed heartily, "Come now, old boy, you'll love it! It's entirely steam-powered , the edge of technology."
"Is it safe, Mr. Painswick?" Carson said, sweat beading at his temples.
"Quite so!" Marmaduke said. They had reached Rosamund, Robert and the girls. Hands full, Marmaduke smiled invitingly at the lot of them.
"Marmaduke," Robert said, a bit uneasily. "It's very good to see you again."
"Likewise," Marmaduke said, "And hello little Edith and the Lady Mary."
Mary smirked, perhaps enjoying the attention. Marmaduke had learned straight away at the wedding last spring that Mary was the most serious child he was likely to ever meet. And to be in his good graces, he may have to humor her a bit.
"Nice to see you, Mr. Painswick." Mary smiled, looking up at Robert for approval. He nodded and then turned back to Rosamund.
"Alright then — show us to this motor of yours!"
Eaton Square may not have been Downton Abbey, but it didn't mean that Rosamund and Marmaduke didn't live in style. Perhaps it wasn't as big — but need it be? It was only Marmaduke, Rosamund and — while Robert could hardly believe it and he knew it greatly unnerved his mother — merely two servants.
"We certainly don't have need for any more than that!" Rosamund said again to Robert after dinner that night. The girls had gone up to bed — thoroughly exhausted from a particularly successful trip to Hamley's- so the three adults sat around the parlor drinking their brandy's.
"Surely if it were only you and Cora you wouldn't have the need for an entire houseful of staff." Marmaduke offered.
Robert bristled, "Well, it's not so much a matter of need, it's just how things are done."
Rosamund pursed her lips, "Yes, well, we're quite pleased the way things are now. Though, perhaps when there are children we will at least employ a governess." She gave Marmaduke a small smile and sipped her brandy.
"Speaking of children," Marmaduke said, "You must be anxious to get back to your Cora. When is the baby meant to arrive?"
"Not until the end of October," Robert said.
"Well, it won't be long now!" Rosamund said, turning to Marmaduke, "Don't you just love Robert's little darlings — they really are the sweetest girls."
Robert grinned proudly, "Well, they get that from Cora."
"Well you needn't let her take all the credit, dear brother." Rosamund said, swatting the air in front of her dismissively, "You can be rather sweet when you want to be."
"I take it you're praying for a son this time," Marmaduke said, "What with the entail and all."
"As long as a child is healthy, I'm unconcerned." Robert said, his brandy paused at his lips, "Though a son certainly would make the small matter of the title a bit less precarious."
"Lucky me," Rosamund said finishing her drink, "Girls can't inherit."
Back at Downton, Cora couldn't fall asleep. She never could when Robert was away. She had to chuckle to herself- perhaps that was one of the reasons she hadn't been able to keep a lady's maid: they all seemed so dismayed to find Robert in her bed each morning. Hughes was different, though, she was unfazed — perhaps she even approved. It wasn't like she was an old goat, not like most of the other maids Cora'd had.
She rolled over and turned on the lamp next to her bed. A dim glow filled the room. It was still warm though, so late at night as it was, it had cooled off a bit. The air wasn't so muggy and, instead, she could feel a gentle breeze across the room from the open window. The silky curtains rustled gently and she could hear, somewhere on the estate, the nightly rustles of small animals. Or maybe even birds- it was late, perhaps early morning. She wasn't certain she'd even minded to wind her clock.
So many nights early in their marriage Cora had lain awake in her bedroom, knowing that Robert was only a room away- yet he might as well have been a world. He hadn't disliked her by any means, but the first year of their marriage his worries and insecurities — paired with her delay in producing any children — made him wary of her. Sometime after their first wedding anniversary, when they'd attended many social gatherings together and he saw that she had worked very hard to please him, to become the kind of wife who would one day be Countess, he moved to get closer to her. Not just in mind, body and spirit, but in bed. So too had he been coming to her room more frequently, as they had both become nervous that it was taking so long for Cora to become pregnant. Eventually, with them making earnest attempts almost nightly, it seemed more reasonable for him to just share the bed with her. Of course, when she finally had become pregnant, he couldn't have dreamed to be apart from her. She knew that she'd fallen in love with him the very first time she'd set eyes on him; but she really didn't feel his love for her until they learned she was pregnant. It wasn't that she didn't think he'd fallen for her sooner than that, but finally he'd been given permission: who could fault him for loving his wife when she was going to bear him an heir?
Of course, she didn't do that, but Mary- and Edith- had both been healthy and what more could they ask? Rosamund, living in London, regaled horror stories about women she knew whose children, if they survived birth, died before they were four. The tragedy of it weighed heavily on Cora's heart. She knew how fortunate they were to live at Downton, in the country, isolated from most horrors of the world — but the aristocracy had its horrors, too.
She felt a little silly missing him, but it wasn't as if anyone was awake to chide her over it, so she indulged herself in a little bit of misery. She threw back the duvet and stepped out of bed. Her steps light, she made her away across the room -forgoing her dressing gown atop her nightie, as it was still too warm- and quietly turned the knob to Robert's dressing room door.
In the early days of their marriage, it was locked — from her side — nearly always. Eventually, when he'd sought permission to come to her at night with more frequency, she began leaving it unlocked: a practice that had not sat well with previous lady's maids. On nights when Robert was away, she was thankful that she could step inside the room. She didn't even need to turn on the gas lamp, for she knew each little corner intimately and could navigate to his bed without issue. He didn't sleep in it at night, but sometimes napped there after a long ride in the country, or when he'd been traveling — or, if one of them was sick and would keep the other awake all night with incessant coughing and sneezes. So, the linens, and the room itself, still carried his scent; of great comfort to her.
Robert's dog, a yellow labrador named Hathor*, slept peacefully at the foot of the bed. He was getting on in years and rarely traveled with Robert anymore, certainly not when the girls were in tow. Cora would have allowed the dog to sleep with her but she feared she'd have disrupted him with all her tossing in the night. Yet here she was now, crawling under the covers of Robert's bed, having made the poor thing rustle in his sleep.
"Sorry, Hathor." she whispered. The dog licked his chops and soon was snoring peacefully. Cora nestled her face into Robert's pillows and inhaled deeply, hoping to get a bit of his scent. After a few moments she was able to drift peacefully off to sleep.
* Hathor - the Egyptian God of Love! Keeping in Robert's tradition of having yellow labs named after Egyptian God/Goddesses.