The last few days had been tumultuous. In spite of the steamer's reinforced technology that promised smooth sailing, they could still feel the pitch and rock of the waves as the icy storms raged on.
Cora mostly kept to their stateroom, the bite of the wind that brushed over the sea was too sharp against her face. The cold burned her lungs, leaving a hollow feeling deep inside her chest. She already felt hollow enough inside. She didn't need any further assistance in feeling as such.
Robert, on the other hand, spent more time on deck than in their room. The unexpected roughness of the waves, affecting his equilibrium more than he cared to admit.
But she didn't mind his absence. If anything it was something of a relief to her. She could plan without feeling him hovering nearby. She didn't have to contend with him watching her carefully, as though something, anything he said or did, or that she said or did, would cause her to break.
She wasn't fragile. She wasn't sure how many times she needed to say it in order for him to believe it. She could manage this. She could survive this. She would survive this.
The door to their room squealed open, and Robert stepped inside. "Woo..." He breathed out a shiver that coursed through him. Taking off his hat, coat, and gloves he placed them on the chair beside the door.
Their eyes met briefly while he stepped deeper into the room towards the fire, peeling off his gloves.
"Feeling better?" She wondered quietly from the chaise that was situated against the back wall of the room.
"Aside from the fact I might possibly have pneumonia," He grumbled, rubbing his hands together and warming them in front of the small fireplace that heated the room. He stared into the flames and sighed, "I'm perfectly fine."
"I'll make you some tea," She decided plainly, swinging her legs over the edge of the lounge chair, and moving towards the glass paneled cabinets in the opposite corner.
"Cora, really, you don't have to do that," Robert consoled.
Taking the tea kettle between her hands, she moved into the small lieu, adjacent to their man room, and filled it with water.
"Really, my stomach is settled now, darling," He insisted from doorway, startling her with his close proximity.
She flipped off the faucet, and spun around slowly to face him. Lifting a brow she mused knowingly, "Just as it was settled after lunch this afternoon?"
Robert opened his mouth to offer his protest, but she slid between him and the door frame, moving back into their room towards the fire.
"I know this tastes dreadful," She informed him, as she carefully hung the kettle for boiling just above the fire. Swiping her hands together as if to dispel the nonexistent ashes that coated her hands, she took a step back and looked at him. "But it seems to help," She insisted, pacing back to the cupboard in the room, and pulling out all the essentials for ginger tea.
"Yes but…" He started and then stopped as the teacups and saucers clattered a bit while she gathered them together and set them down on the low table near the fireplace. "Darling, I can manage myself."
She couldn't stop herself from snorting as she scooped some of the tea leaf and herb concoction into the two cups.
"What?" He echoed in mild disbelief. "I serve myself at Downton, don't I?"
"On occasion, I suppose you do," She offered softly as if she was making some sort of effort to remain on common ground. Yet she couldn't stop herself from adding sadly, "But we aren't at Downton."
She let out another breath, allowing herself to sink in one of the armchairs poised in front of the fireplace. As if on cue, Robert took residence in the seat opposite her.
It was a smaller room than they'd been accustomed to in the past. A queen's sized bed filled up most of the room, with chests and drawers smartly arranged on either side of it. There was a chaise pressed up against the back wall, below the high porthole that gave adequate view of the upper deck. The wood and glass paneled cabinet where Cora found the supplies for making tea was nestled in that corner. A door to a basic lavatory adjacent to that. And then at the foot of the bed were the two armchairs, angled towards the fireplace that was attended to at least three times a day.
They had neither ladies maid nor valet in their company. With Anna so close to her time, it seemed cruel to bring Bates with them and unfair to ask Baxter to come along and have her Christmas spoiled too. No, they only had the maid who worked for the ocean liner and came whenever they called for something to be cleaned or made up.
Neither of them had bothered to learn her name. They didn't have much use for her aside from stoking the fire or replacing their dishes. Besides, this was only temporary. There wasn't a need to grow too comfortable.
"I spoke with one of the look out's while I was up on deck," He interrupted the quiet with this neutral statement.
"Oh?" She looked to him, trying to appear far more interested than she would undoubtedly be.
"He seems to think we shall arrive on schedule," Robert concluded, smiling proudly at this discovery.
"Well that's...good," She flashed a brief grin in return, although it no doubt looked more pained than relieved.
"Yes," He agreed amiably, "yes, I thought so too."
Another twitch of a tired smile at her lips, another tense silence descending upon them. Cora was never more grateful for the shrill whistle of the kettle, signaling the water had boiled.
She rose swiftly, her dark skirts swishing as she moved towards the fire. She took a cloth, wrapped it around the handle, and moved back towards both emptied tea cups. She felt Robert's eyes trained on her while she worked, her heart beating a bit faster, hands trembling just a fraction.
"I always forget you know how to do that," He commented lightly whenever her handed him his steaming, rose painted cup, splashed with a gold floral pattern.
Her lips edged into a slight half smile that he couldn't see as she retrieved the sugar bowl from the corner cabinet. And part of her took small pleasure in this, although for whatever reason, she couldn't deduce.
"I wasn't always Countess of Grantham, being waited on hand and foot," Cora replied knowingly as she moved to place the tiny bowl on a table next to him and take her seat opposite of him.
He blinked back at her for a few moments before blowing quietly across the rim of his teacup and taking a reluctant sip. "Urgh..." He groaned, his face contorting while he smacked his lips at the unpleasantness of the bitter, ginger tang.
It was better this way, she told herself. The abominable condition of the tea gave them something to remark on that didn't require too much emotional sacrifice. That she could manage.
"Sugar, darling," She inclined her head to the bowl she set beside him.
Robert shrugged and then plopped a few cubes inside the sickly green contents of his cup.
Taking another sip, his expression appeared less severe this time whenever swallowed the concoction. "Much better, thank you dearest," He murmured, forcing another swig of it down before placing it on the nearby table.
His gaze worked its way back towards hers, and she instinctively lowered her eyes behind dark lashed, taking a long while to sip her tea.
"Perhaps we could have some more of those sandwiches," He broached the subject cautiously, standing decisively and moving towards the bell for the maid.
"If you like," She answered softly, "I'm not really hungry."
"But darling," She didn't need to look up to know he was furrowing his brow, frowning at her out of deep concern. His objection could be heard well before she dared to find his eye again, "You've barely eaten since we left Downton."
She shrugged, "I'm just not very hungry, Robert."
"I don't blame you for it, but…" He trailed off, his palms flipping open at both sides, "well, you know…you really ought to take care..."
"And so I am," She retorted sharper than she intended to. "I'm taking care of myself just fine," Another short, deliberate sip of her tea followed this curt remark. "I don't need you to."
How long would it take for him to understand this? How many times, how many different ways would she have to say it until he just left her alone? She was a grown woman. She raised three daughters, and managed him for the last thirty-five years. She didn't need caring for.
But apparently he knew this. He knew this, and he didn't shy away from the words that cut her deeply. He let out a heavy sigh, his tone full of all the sadness she felt inside her heart.
"But Cora, I want to."
She visibly flinched at his words. They struck her quite hard, but not as hard as the flicker of melancholy that shot through his pale eyes. She knew there was no way out of this unless she wanted to incite a row. And she was far too tired to face that at present.
"Fine," She told him through clenched teeth, trying to disguise the tremor in her bottom lip. Her hands curled over the armrests of her char, fingers aching from the tension in them. "If you insist-"
"I do," He interrupted her train of thought, his tone final. His finger jabbed the bell, and she jumped from the harsh buzzing noise that suddenly came from overhead.
She stared back at him, seeing his melancholy expression shift into a sort of cold indifference as he pressed the button for far longer than was necessary.
The corner of her eyes started prickling again, and she was forced to avert her attention.
He released the button, and strode back over to the end table where his tea nearly lay abandoned.
"If you must insist I drink this dreadful tea, then I must insist you to have some sandwiches," He remarked evenly.
Cora heard him taking another determined sip before smacking his lips in false enjoyment of his balm. He was only making such a show to prove that his patience too had its own limitations, but she never had asked him to be patient with her.
This notion set her teeth on edge, and she stood with whatever determination left inside of her. Propelled forward by either irritation or a desire to escape, she couldn't tell the difference at present.
All that she knew was that this room suddenly felt cramped, and that she wouldn't last with him on the verge of snapping at her at the slightest thing she did or said. Even if she'd brought it all down upon herself, right now, she didn't quite have the strength to face it.
"I need some air," Her words quivered, but she made a point to stalk past him with her shoulders rolled back and chin jutted forward.
"You need to eat," He argued flatly by her side whenever she plucked her coat from the rack beside the door.
She bristled at his words, any semblance of guilt or humility being washed away by the stern expression she saw hovering by her left shoulder. He reached for her arm, but was merely met with the air as she wrenched back her arm swiftly, before he could ever get the chance to detain her.
"Don't," She growled at him, "don't tell me what I need, Robert."
Cora opened the door, her coat still tucked under one arm as she stomped towards the promenade.
She already felt the bite of the winter air seep beneath her thin blouse, a shiver coursing through her. She halphazardly swung her coat over both shoulders, not even noticing that she almost hit a gentleman with her elbow in the process. Her eyes burned and cheeks stung as angry tears made their way down her cheeks in spite of her internal protests to fight off the feeling.
Why would he do that? She asked herself. Why would he insist upon the sandwiches? Why would he try and tell her what she needed when he didn't have a clue? Why...?
It was a futile question to be asking when she already knew the answer.
Because he wants to care for you.
And then there was the other one, the one she couldn't answer so readily that echoed through her mind.
Why won't you just let him?
His closed fist came into contact with the door as it slammed shut behind her. "Bloody hell!" He grumbled fiercely under his breath, feeling the throbbing ache instantly spread from his wrist to the tips of his fingers. Gripping his hand close to his middle, Robert turned away from the door, slowly flexing and unflexing his appendages while gritting his teeth from the horrible self-inflicted pain.
It was a mistake. All of it. Coming here when he wasn't wanted, hovering by her every chance his stomach wasn't turning uneasily, and then, smashing his fist against the wooden door. He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have done any of it.
And yet, he did it all anyway. He told himself it was for her.
But was it? Was it really just for her? He was used to giving her what she wanted. He happily did it time and time again at the expense of his own happiness. But not this time. No, this time was different.
This time he insisted. This time he wouldn't be swayed to doubt his decision. No matter how much she hardened herself. No matter how much she pushed him away. He would stay.
He was her husband after all. He was made to weather the bad times by her side, just as he was made to relish in the good ones that befell them.
And more than that. He loved her.
So with every contorted facial expression that painted her face, every nervous wring of her hands, every faraway glint in her eyes of things unspoken, his heart ached for her. And with every passing day that she turned away from him and retreated inside herself, he felt a dreadful combination of helplessness and frustration.
He was lost. He was scared. He was angry. And most of all, he was guilt ridden for feeling anything at all.
He had no right to. Just because she wouldn't give into her feelings, didn't mean he should. It was her mother who died, not his. He shouldn't feel it all so fiercely. He should just keep it all to himself. For her sake. For their sake.
The sandwiches came. He spoke briefly to the maid, although the words exchanged between them were soon forgotten with her departure.
He sipped more tea as he paced the room, nearly gagging on the icy bitterness that trickled down his throat. At least when it was hot the warm burned his throat, leaving little acerbicity behind to taste. Now it was nearly unbearable.
As was the silence. As was being without her.
But he didn't have to take the latter for much longer.
The door to their cabin squealed open, and she slowly lifted her head catching his eye as he simultaneously pivoted on his heel to face her.
Her hair was loose, dark tendrils swirling out from the once tightened hold, tickling her pink cheeks, stained from the chilled air outside. He saw the tip of her nose was pinker than usual, and her eyes more swollen than he remembered before her hasty departure.
His heart tugged. Had she been crying? Or was her porcelain skin just made flushed from the cold? He couldn't tell as she wordlessly broke contact with his gaze and shrugged out of her coat before hanging it on the nearby stand.
"The sandwiches came," He announced lamely, gesturing towards the untouched tray laid out before him, in between the two armchairs.
Cora merely nodded, padding quietly through the room.
"I had her restore the fire as well," He commented neutrally, clearing his throat and then fixing his eyes upon the flames now roaring in the hearth.
"That's..." Cora began, pausing, pursing her lips together, she moved beside him in front of the fire, her line of vision following his, "...very thoughtful." She murmured softly, drawing a few paces closer before rubbing her hands together and than warming her open palms just above the flames.
His lips twitched at the corners from her momentary praise. He watched her stand there warming herself for a few seconds and then slowly sank down in the armchair he had occupied earlier. He picked up a sandwich, settled it on a plate, and then sat back in his seat.
"Is it bitterly cold out there?" He wondered before taking a bite of his sandwich. The smoked salmon made his stomach feel a bit uneasy, but he managed to polish it off in a few bites successfully.
"Yes," She exhaled in a far away tone. Her fingers flexed a few times, and she rubbed her hands together once more.
Robert reached for another sandwich as she moved gracefully to sit in the opposite chair.
He felt her staring at him as he finished a second one, and when he found her frowning expression, he felt himself instinctively tense again.
"What?" He couldn't help the defensive bite that sounded through the single word. He tried to keep his face relax, not wanting her to think he was prepared to do battle again.
"Were you..." She clenched her jaw, looking at the tray of sandwiches between them, and then the half eaten one that hovered halfway between his plate and his mouth, "...nevermind." She decided, shaking her head.
"Cora, if you wish to say something just say it," He sighed, feeling the exasperation rise in his tone, and her eyes to lift from the sandwich she was placing a top her plate.
Her eyes widened, brow arching as if to silently challenge his tone of voice.
"Please," He added, sounding more disingenuous than he meant.
Straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders, Cora edged forward on her seat, reaching for a bundle of grapes on the tray. She plucked them one by one rather forcefully from the spindly stalk holding them together, her clipped tone accompanying each one she dropped on her plate, "I was. Just. Going. To ask. If you. Were. Waiting. For me."
Once the dried out vine bore no more grapes, she popped one into her mouth and crunched into it rather harshly. She settled back against the seat, the round, purple pieces rolling precariously across her plate.
He saw the indignation flare up in her cool, blue eyes. Her mouth edging into a triumphant smirk, as though she was unaffected by the tension that brewed between them.
Robert suddenly had the urge to smash his sandwich plate against the table, but he resisted. It would do no good to allow his anger to flare up again. His right hand tightened and that searing pain stretched through the tendons, that dull ache filling his bones. It served as a reminder to still himself. To hold onto whatever string of patience remained inside of him.
He left his plate back on the table that filled the space between them. Casting his attention off to one side, he decided evenly, "Of course I was. A gentleman always waits."
She snorted at this, obviously finding some bit of humor in his words. But it was the wrong response. He didn't have it in him to put up with her mockery just now.
"You know Cora," He could feel the words he really wanted to say trickle over his tongue, but he paused deliberately, inhaling and exhaling in a forceful manner. He tried counting a bit, hoping it would stave off the anger he could feel bubbling inside of him.
Robert glanced at her, his face hardening as he spoke, "I'm a patient man. But I'm not a saint. Don't..."
"Don't what?" She taunted mockingly, cocking her head to one side. Her eyes widened with a pseudo ignorance that was enough to drive her mad. "What shouldn't I do, Robert?"
He clenched his fist tightly, feeling his injured hand pulse again. "You know what," He practically spat out, wincing from the pain.
"Forgive me if I'm simply not in the mood to cater to your feelings at present," She snapped, her icy blue eyes narrowing. "I told you before we left that you didn't have to..."
"I know!" He pounded his uninjured fist against the arm of the chair, unable to keep his feelings beneath the surface any longer. "I know! I bloody know, alright?!" He pushed himself up out of the chair, and he took several frantic paces before whirling around and sneering at her, "You don't want me here! I know!"
But her anger had been a farce. It hadn't burned as deeply as his. He saw it now as she sat back in the armchair, blinking up at him, her eyes silently pooling. With an inverted brow, she bit on her mouth but not before the quivering, "Robert-" escaped her lips.
And in spite of knowing he should stop in spite of knowing it was wrong to keep shouting at her, he couldn't. He'd let it all simmer for too long, and now the words he promised himself he would never shout at her under the circumstances were boiling over like an untended kettle.
"I-I know! I know shouldn't have come! But I did! I left Downton and the children and the girls and Mama and at Christmas time too! I left it all behind and-and for what?! For this?! To fight with you?! About what?! About nothing, that's what! I came here for you! And you-you-you-"
He was losing steam now. His train of thought had entirely derailed now that he saw her folding in on herself again.
Her mouth fused tightly together, her eyes squeezed shut as she bowed her head. Her hands wrung together until the knuckles of her fingers blanched.
"I-I-I...I'm sorry..." She stammered through quick, gasping breaths. "I-I-I-I didn't realize I was-was-was such a...nuisance!" She blubbered, her eyes, flashing open full of hot tears.
Robert sighed heavily, feeling an intolerable spasm between beats of his heart. He lowered his head, and shuffled conciliatory towards her seated form, "Cora I-"
"No!" She rose swiftly from her seat, and positioned herself on the other side of the chair. "No!" She pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, shrieking in an unsteady voice. "Don't you dare! Don't you make me feel...I didn't ask you to come!"
He tentatively approached her, his hands hanging in midair in surrender. "I know. I know, and I'm sorry I-I'm sorry." He told her, softly, moving around the chair.
She back away, shaking her head, and accusing, "You came because...because..." Her voice wavered as she practically tripped backwards over her own feet, her hand reached out and gripped the back of the winged chair while he simultaneously reached for her forearms to help steady her.
Cora inhaled a sharp breath, but she didn't resist his touch. Instead she merely whimpered, her eyes darting upon everything that wasn't him.
His thumb rubbed across the smooth skin of her forearm, and he murmured gently, "Because I'm your husband."
Her face contorted as though his words only deepened her distress. He was about to utter another apology for this, but saw it was unnecessary whenever her head fell into the center of his chest.
Robert drew her into his arms, and finally, they both temporarily found what they needed from the other.
I'm sure this is riddled with typos & errors, please let me know of any glaring ones. I just really wanted to keep this going as it was due around Christmas and we haven't even gotten to the Christmasy part yet (whoops I'm terrible with updating regularly). Thanks to everyone for their support & comments thus far, I do appreciate it! As always, if you have some time to continue sharing your thoughts, I would love you forever. Thanks so much lovelies!