A/N: Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! It's such a joy to be able to write again, and I'm so pleased that you all are still enjoying this story.


Chapter 6

Cora felt as though she were witnessing some sort of horrible, distorted nightmare. It had taken several moments for her mind to register what was happening; that her husband, the Viscount Downton, had punched Andrew Livingston in the jaw before throwing him to the floor, and was now trying to pin the man down as he continued to beat him senseless. She watched in horror as Livingston's hands reached for Robert's face in an attempt to claw him.

"Stop it! Robert! Stop!"

Her cries fell on deaf ears, and Cora lunged forward instinctively, wanting to somehow pull her husband away from the brawl.

"Don't, Cora!" She heard her brother's voice as his arms caught her. And before she knew quite what was happening, she was being pushed back into the arms of her mother as Harold ran forward, grabbing Robert by the shoulders and pulling him to his feet. Livingston followed and had come up swinging, managing to land a blow to Robert's nose before being pulled back by Isidore.

"If you ever so much as look at my wife again, so help me God—"Robert growled.

"That's enough, Robert," Isidore said quietly, his hold tightening on Livingston as the man moved to take another swing. "Andrew, I think it's best if you leave now. You've caused quite enough commotion for one evening. Harold," Isidore turned to his son, "ask one of the footman to retrieve some ice for Robert, and send for the doctor." Harold did as he was told as the crowd that had gathered around the scene began to dissipate.

Cora stared in disbelief as Robert turned toward her. Her mind struggled to take in the scratch to his cheek, and the blood from his nose that now stained his evening shirt. She had known that it was going to be a difficult evening from the moment Andrew Livingston had rang the doorbell. But now, as she listened to the whisperings of their guests, caught sight of the way their eyes glanced in her direction, she felt an inexplicable rage, and her body began to tremble from the effort of maintaining her composure.

"Cora—"

She heard him call for her, but did not turn around as she rushed for the balcony. Her lungs were on fire, prevented from taking a deep breath by the confines of her corset. She gripped the railing as hot, angry tears coursed down her cheeks. She felt him behind her before he ever had the chance to speak.

"What on God's green earth was that, Robert? What in heaven's name were you thinking?" She turned to him then, her chest heaving and her hands balled into fists.

Her ire was met by evident confusion. "I was trying to rescue you from him, Cora."

"Rescue me?" Cora was incredulous. "You rescue me from an awkward situation by approaching me and telling me I'm needed elsewhere; by gaining my attention and summoning me away. Not by beating to death a man who already dislikes you. Not by embarrassing my parents, not to mention me, by acting like a child in front of all of these people, most of whom already view us as inferior because we're 'new money'. Have you any idea of the ridicule we'll receive because of this? I may not have wanted to have been paraded around like a show pony tonight, but I was quite proud to introduce you to my friends; to show that I was very happy in my choice of husband. But you just had to let your blasted temper get the better of you! Lord only knows what they think of me now."

"He touched your cheek! He was trying to proposition you!" Robert couldn't believe the turn the evening had taken. Nor could he grasp why he was receiving the blame for it.

Cora's eyes widened in indignation. "He most certainly was not! He was inappropriate and impertinent, I grant you. And I did want you to come and help me; to 'rescue' me, as you so gallantly put it. But, he did not proposition me. I would have slapped him for his indiscretion, but you more than took care of that for me, didn't you?"

"I—"Robert tried to get a word in, but Cora continued.

"Despite our differences, I love my family a great deal, Robert. I'm very proud of my father, and what he has been able to accomplish. It devastates me to think that I've brought shame to them through your behavior tonight."

"I never meant to embarrass anyone. Darling, you have to believe that."

Cora looked at him for a long moment. "I do. But, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire for the evening. I'm tired, and I've rather a headache.

"Of course," he conceded, closing his eyes in shame as she brushed past him.

Cora suddenly came to a halt, but did not turn around. "And I think it would be better if you slept in your own room tonight."

"But, Cora—"

"Good night, Robert." With that, she stepped back into the house.


Most of the guests had left by the time Robert reentered the ballroom. He averted his eyes as his father-in-law approached him with an ice-filled towel. "Here, son." He placed it in Robert's hand and directed him to a nearby sofa.

"I saw Cora rush upstairs," Isidore began, claiming the seat beside him.

"She's furious with me." Robert spoke around the towel as it was now pressed to his nose. "I suppose she has every right to be."

"Hmm. I understand why you did what you did, Robert. I do. I questioned Martha's judgement in inviting Andrew here tonight, but we all know how persistent my wife can be." Robert was able to muster a small smile at the sentiment. "But, I also saw the look of horror on my daughter's face. I don't think she's angry with you for defending her—"

"That's where you're wrong, Isidore," Robert interrupted. "That's exactly why she's angry with me. She said that I have embarrassed her, and worse, that I have embarrassed you and Martha."

"That's why she's angry. Not for defending her, or for protecting her. Son, that's your job as her husband. And in spite of any missteps that make have taken place in the early days of your marriage, you've always been very good to Cora. I know how much she adores you. But, she's always been very protective and proud of this family."

"Isidore, I love your daughter more than I could possibly find the words to say." Robert felt slightly odd confessing this to his wife's father. But, he felt that Isidore needed to know. "It's strong talk for an Englishman; that's true. But, I do. And, it pains me that I've hurt her. That is the very last thing I would ever wish to do. And I would never want to do anything to embarrass you or bring shame to the Levinson name."

"I know. And I know my little girl, Robert. She won't stay angry for long. No doubt people will talk. They always do. But, we'll survive it. Besides," he grinned, "I'm not sure what Martha thought, but I wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed by what happened tonight. In fact, I was rather impressed."

Robert couldn't help but laugh as his father-in-law clapped him on the shoulder. He looked up to see Harold, who was followed closely by a man whom he assumed was the doctor.

"Should I go and get Cora?" Harold asked. "Won't she want to be here while the doctor examines Robert?"

"I don't think so," Robert answered quietly. He was suddenly aware of a throbbing sensation, looking down to find the knuckles of his right hand severely bruised. Of course he wanted her there. But he, too, knew his wife. "Just leave her be."

"I'll go and see her," Harold replied as he headed for the foyer. "Talk some sense into her."

"Harold, I'm not sure that's such a good idea." It was a nice gesture, but Isidore knew how his son delighted in getting his sister riled up on most occasions, and he wasn't at all sure how well Cora would receive her younger brother. "She's very upset, and needs some time to herself. I'll go and speak with her later."

"No, I'll do it. I owe her an apology anyway." Harold didn't give the others a chance to reply before he had disappeared up the staircase.