Cora was lying fully clothed on her bed at Grantham House, her face smashed into the pillow. At their return home, she had whispered to Robert that she wanted to be alone, and after a long look, he had acceded to her request. She had shaken her head, slowly but determinedly, in response to his suggestion that dinner be sent up to her on a tray—she was not the least bit hungry; indeed, she didn't feel like she'd ever be interested in eating again.

She had not kept any track of the time since she'd come up here, but she was beginning to assume that it had perhaps been long enough that the family had eaten by now, and thus it was not a surprise when she heard the bedroom door open.

"Cora?" she heard Robert say softly, tentatively. "May I come in?"

"Yes." She did not unbury her face to look at him.

She heard his footsteps enter the room and trace around the bed to her side, and then she felt the mattress sink slightly as he took a seat next to her. "Robert…" She prayed he would not want to discuss the trial.

"Shh," he said as she felt his hands begin to massage her back, "just relax."

Cora let out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding at the realization that he was not here to press for discussion of her pathetic performance. She had not noticed until now how very tense she was, but it occurred to her as his hands worked that her whole body had tensed as she'd begun repeating her story for the prosecutor, and she had not let go since, holding herself stiff with fear and humiliation and regret at how it had all gone. She closed her eyes and tried to rest, to think of nothing, but it was as though he was pushing not only the tension from her back but also the tears from her eyes, and she began to weep into her pillow.

"Shh," she heard Robert say at the noise of her tears, "you're all right now. It's all over now."

But it wasn't. She may have finished her own testimony, but the trial stretched on ahead of her for days and days. She would have to hear Baxter tomorrow.

"It isn't—oh," she said, a soft moan following her words as his fingers dug into a particularly tight muscle next to her lower spine.

His hands froze. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, no, it feels wonderful." He resumed the pressure, and she went on. "It isn't over. Baxter's testifying in the morning."

"Yes, but you haven't got to be there for that. You haven't got to go back at all. You've done your bit."

"I do. I do have to go back and hear Baxter."

"Cora—"

"No," she said firmly, feeling her tears clog her throat. "No, she suffered through mine today. I won't abandon her for hers."

He did not argue, and she was thankful for his silence as she let his touch soothe her. Cora was trying desperately to forget everything Bricker's lawyer had flung at her, and yet the words were replaying themselves unbidden as the minutes passed. You did not want the village doctor to know your husband had struck you in his anger. Her cheeks burned with humiliation and anger at the suggestion as she weighed the contrast of the accusation against the gentleness in the hands that were slowly undoing the knots in her muscles.

"Robert," she said suddenly, "I'm sorry for what he said about you."

"My word, Cora, don't apologize to me for that! That was the least of what you had to endure today."

"But it was so very false—"

"It was all false. Every word that piece of slime said was a lie." He paused and then said, "Cora, darling, you were very brave today."

"Brave?" she scoffed bitterly. She was so ashamed of her weakness today that she could hardly stand it.

"Yes. Very."

"No, I wasn't. And I'm so very sorry for what a mess I made of it! All I could think of was how glad I was that I'd told my mother not to come over, because she would have been so disappointed—"

"Stop right there," he said, and she rolled over onto her back, wanting to look at his face. There was an almost foreign intensity in his eyes. "None of us are disappointed. No one could have been disappointed with you today. Your mother would have felt just as I do, and just as Mama and the girls do. And I am so very proud of you and so very proud of how brave you've been."

"I'm not! I'm weak and cowardly and—"

"You are neither of those, Cora. You've put yourself through hell again and again, and all because you're determined to see justice served. You've set aside the social consequences for yourself, you've gone over this nightmare again and again for the police and the attorneys, you've faced your attacker, you've described before the court and our family and our staff what was done to you…and you've done it all not just for yourself, but for the sake of women like Baxter who would have had no voice of their own, and for the sake of the women you can protect in the future if he's locked away. I think that is all very, very brave."

"Do you?" she whispered.

"Of course." He smoothed her hair, and she reached up to take his hand in hers.

"Lie down and hold me for awhile," she said, wanting him as close as possible.

"Dressed like this?" He chuckled softly. He had not changed either.

"Yes, I don't want to ring for Baxter, or for you to leave for Bates, just yet."

Robert moved to lie on the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her close. He pressed a kiss to her temple as she tucked her head against his chest. "I love you," he said. "My dear, brave girl."

She savored the feeling of being cocooned in his arms, the feeling of safety that came only from his presence. How she wanted him, she thought, as her fingers traced patterns along his chest. Yet she knew another attempt at intimacy would end as all the others had over the last few weeks, with her body seizing in terror as she frantically pushed him away, and she did not want to put either of them through the grief of it again tonight. For now it was enough merely to have him so near.

There was a sudden knocking at the door, accompanied by Mrs. Hughes's voice. "Your ladyship? Your ladyship!"

Cora sat up, and Robert did the same beside her. "Yes?" she called. "Come in!"

Mrs. Hughes stepped inside, an almost-frightened look in her eyes. "There's a messenger from the court here, my lord, my lady. He says–he says that none of us will need to appear in the morning. The trial will not be going forward—"

"What?" Robert exclaimed. "Whyever—"

"Because Mr. Bricker is dead, my lord," Mrs. Hughes continued. "He was found dead in his home this evening."

Cora gasped, grateful she was already seated, and grabbed Robert's arm. "What? What's happened to him?" she heard him ask.

"I'm not certain," Mrs. Hughes said. "I'm not sure anyone's certain yet, my lord. A sudden illness, it seems? No doubt we'll hear more tomorrow."

No doubt we will, thought Cora, feeling a sudden chill. No doubt we will.

AN: I may not update for a few more days, but before I bury myself in my GMAT book again, I want to promise you all that I WILL give you a satisfying answer to what happened to Bricker. I promise I'm not doing like the show did with Green ("Eh, we're not sure who killed him or even if anyone did, but it wasn't Bates or Anna, so never mind, and happy Christmas!").