It was clear in the coming days how deeply she had hurt him. Robert barely spoke to her, even at meals, and she no longer had to work at avoiding him—he did it for her. He could, it seemed, hardly stomach her presence, and he addressed her directly only once, when Edith arrived with the little orphan girl from the Drewes' farm, announcing that the Drewes had neither the money nor the energy for her and asking for permission to keep her at Downton.
"Do you approve?" he had asked, looking at Cora for the first time.
"Yes," she'd whispered, quickly dropping her eyes. She had even less energy to contemplate this than he did. Let Edith do whatever she thought would make her happy.
It hurt her each time he refused to acknowledge her, but she reminded herself it was better than his knowing. She had spared him the pain of knowing she'd been ruined. It was also easier not having to hide from him, and at least she could rest in the knowledge that he still loved her, even if he displayed no outward evidence—he would not be so angry if he didn't love her.
Robert had not gone near her in almost a week, and thus it came as a shock when he arrived in the drawing room one afternoon and took a seat across from her. He leaned forward, his head in his hands, and he did not speak at first.
"Cora," he finally said, his words directed to the rug, "you must tell me what it is that I have done."
"You've done nothing—"
"Yet you no longer love me."
"That isn't true! I do love you!" She did not think she had ever meant a sentence more. It is because I love you that I want you away from me!
"You tell me that you don't."
"I never told you I didn't love you!" Cora could feel the ache of unshed tears in her throat, and she knew it made her voice sound sharper. "I told you—I only need…a break." That was all it would be, she tried to tell herself. Because someday, her soul would heal.
He raised his head to look her in the eye for the first time. "Is this because of Simon Bricker?"
Cora's blood turned to ice at the sound of the name in Robert's mouth, and she was not sure how long she stared at him in silence. "What?" She spoke in no more than a whisper.
Robert's voice no longer had its dull, desperate quality, and she could hear a burning anger in it when he spoke this time. "Were you…together with Simon Bricker? Is that what this is about? Now that you've been with your…your…traveling salesman, I'm of no interest?"
It was as though he'd slapped her, and she physically recoiled at the words. She knew that Robert would have a right to be angry with her if he knew what she'd allowed to happen, but the suggestion that she had wanted Bricker, that she had enjoyed what had been forced on her…
"How dare you," she hissed, rising from the sofa. "How dare you!" She spun around and hurried from the room, ignoring the anguish in his voice as he called after her.
He should have known better than to suspect that she would ever be intimate with another man, and he knew it. How dare you indeed, he told himself afterwards. He knew there was something wrong with her, something wrong with them, but he had known, at least until his anger had gotten the best of them, that it was not what the dark corners of his jealous imagination had suggested. Cora had not slept with Bricker. Cora had likely not even known what it was that Bricker had wanted.
But Robert was not sure he would ever understand what had crept between them. Would it be like this for the years that remained to them? Was this how everything would end, with Cora slipping away from him and never telling him why?
He was on his way into his own dressing room to change for dinner when Miss Baxter passed him in the hallway. Cora had always loved her maids, and it was no different with this one. Did she…confide in her?
"Baxter," he said suddenly, and she stopped and turned to face him, uncertainty on her face. He realized he had never spoken directly to her.
"Yes, my lord? I'm on my way to her ladyship…"
"I know, and I won't keep you. I was only hoping…" He paused, not sure how exactly he had envisioned this conversation going. Say, do you happen to know why my wife hates me? Why yes, my lord, she mentioned it just this morning…
"Do you know anything about her ladyship, Baxter?"
"Anything, my lord?"
"That is, is there something wrong? There seems to have been, these last few days…"
"I'm sure I don't know any more than you do, my lord," she said quickly, with the smoothness of a woman who was not the least bit perplexed by his line of questioning.
I'm sure you do, he thought, far more certain now. "She didn't seem…well, after I came home from London."
"Her ladyship had fallen, my lord."
She had, hadn't she? The bruise on her cheek had started to fade, and he'd nearly forgotten how this had all begun. Was there some…meaning in that?
Baxter seemed to take his thoughtful silence to mean he wanted her to speak more. "She fell the night your lordship was in London," she continued, and he heard poorly hidden nerves in her voice. "In her bedroom. She tripped…over that footstool."
How had Cora said she'd fallen? She'd blamed the rug, hadn't she? But why lie about the cause of a fall?
"If you'll excuse me, your lordship?" Baxter said when he did not respond. "Her ladyship will be waiting?"
"Of course, of course." He studied her retreating back as she continued on to Cora's room.
Cora heard the bedroom door open and then Baxter's voice say, "Oh, my lady."
She had flopped down on the bed an hour ago, giving herself over to the hot, angry tears that had gathered in her eyes after Robert's accusation, and she sat up slowly at Baxter's words, her side sorer than usual from the sobs that had only recently slowed.
Her maid murmured sympathetically and passed her a handkerchief. "Thank you," Cora said thickly, wiping her eyes. She was immensely grateful that she had to explain nothing to Baxter, that she did not have to lie and tell her she was fine, and that her maid would not press for details.
"The gong's rung, my lady," Baxter said quietly when Cora had dried her tears. "Do you wish to go down?"
Oh yes, the gong. It had rung, and she had heard it distantly. She sniffed. "Yes. Of course, yes."
"If you're certain, my lady. Are you all right now?"
It was such a relief to be able to answer that question honestly for once. "I think I will be," she said, standing so that Baxter could unfasten her day dress. Isobel and Lord Merton were attending tonight, along with Lord Merton's sons. She could not possibly miss it.
The maid was silent as she changed Cora's dress and did not speak until she began to work on her hair. "Your ladyship," she said suddenly, "may I tell you something?"
Cora met Baxter's eyes in the mirror. "Yes?"
"I think you ought to tell his lordship."
She felt as though she'd had a glass of cold water dashed in her face. "What did you say?"
"I beg your pardon, my lady; I know it's none of my concern, but I so wish you'd tell Lord Grantham. He's worried for you, my lady, and I can see it." Yes, so worried he's asked me if I climbed willingly into bed with Bricker, she thought, but Baxter wasn't finished. "If I may say so, I think it would just be—easier for you if you could tell him."
"It wouldn't be. It wouldn't be any easier."
Baxter did not respond. "I don't think I could bear it if he knew," Cora continued, giving voice to her fears for the first time. "I couldn't bear to lose his love, to have him look at me and know I've ruined myself for him…" She stopped, feeling her tears coming on again.
"I can't imagine that would happen, my lady," Baxter said firmly. "His lordship loves you."
"His lordship doesn't know what's happened—"
"And it would change nothing," Baxter interrupted. "I'm sorry, my lady, but I've worked in many houses, and I've seen many lords and ladies. I've never seen a lord and lady who loved each other as you and his lordship do. And that's why you must tell him."
Cora knew she ought to rebuke her maid for her impertinence, but after Baxter's kindness over the last week, she didn't have it in her. Instead, she sighed and buried her face in her hands. "Oh Baxter…some days I don't think anything will ever be normal again."
Her maid laid her hand on her shoulder. "It will, my lady. It doesn't feel like it now, but it will. You'll be all right, you'll see."
"I see him every night," she said, her voice cracking. "I relive it, every night in my dreams. And I think–I think it's going to stay that way for the rest of my life—"
"No, my lady," Baxter said softly, lightly stroking Cora's hair with her other hand. "You may dream for a while yet, but it will grow less and less frequent, and one day it'll stop entirely. It won't be right away, but one day you'll feel you're yourself again, you'll be able to laugh, you'll be able to feel…you won't always be broken…"
Cora lowered her hands to once more meet her maid's eyes in the mirror. "Baxter…" she said slowly.
Baxter lowered her eyes. "Yes, my lady."
"When?"
"Years ago. I was very young—perhaps Lady Rose's age, or a bit younger."
"Oh, Baxter…" Her heart broke as she considered the source of her maid's ready sympathy for her. "But…surely you can imagine then why I don't want to tell anyone?"
"I understand you're ashamed, ma'am—though it wasn't your fault, any more than it was mine all those years ago. But I'm not sure I do quite understand…your position is so very different than mine was. You're a countess, ma'am. I was a housemaid. You could bring this man to justice."
"Did you tell anyone about your own…assault?" She still could not bring herself to say the word rape.
"I told my mother, my lady. But no one else."
"And did she do nothing?" Cora could not imagine hearing that such horror had been visited on either of her own daughters.
"There was nothing to be done, ma'am. I couldn't afford to lose my position."
"But surely, you would not have—"
"I would have, my lady. My attacker was a son of the house I was working in. I could hardly accuse him, could I?"
Cora covered the hand on her shoulder with her own, seeing a young, frightened housemaid, living in fear of her employer's son. "I am so sorry for you." She could not imagine having to live in Bricker's home, and see him daily, and fear him constantly, in a far more real sense than she did cocooned here at Downton.
"But I survived, my lady, and so will you." She felt Baxter squeeze her shoulder lightly, and Cora returned it with a squeeze to her hand.
"And you have something I did not have," Baxter continued. "You have his lordship, and I know he loves you, ma'am; I'm sure of it."