"Cora." He almost spills his drink as he spins round, clearly surprised - shocked? - to see her with him in the Library.
"Hello, darling." She meets his eyes with a playful smile. "I had hoped to find you in here."
"Now is not a good time, Cora." He speaks with the slow authority he adopts when he is annoyed or angry. He has already turned his back to her, parting the thick Library curtains in order to look out the window - although she doesn't know what he expects to see in the pitch blackness outside.
Normally she would feel slighted by the abrupt dismissal and the way he is ignoring her now. A few years ago, she would have left him alone until he came to bed with an explanation and a sheepish apology. Sometimes the making up afterwards was almost worth the argument itself.
It's so different now. She had been looking forward to her husband's company tonight, hoping he could cheer her up after a difficult day with Mrs Crawley and her refugees. Instead, he had left her room abruptly before dinner and ignored any attempts at conversation during the meal itself.
They had drifted apart during the war - she had become tired of Robert's anxieties and had thrown herself into the convalescent home. They don't seem to talk anymore and the sheer intensity and volatility of his moods make her nervous. Yet she still craves his company, or rather the good-natured and affectionate husband she used to know.
She crosses the Library until she is standing behind him at the window, placing her hand on his back. Her fingers gently stroke his shoulder blade through the heavy dinner jacket. "Darling," she whispers. "Tell me what's wrong. Perhaps I can help."
He sips from the glass in his hand and continues looking out the window. Undeterred, she wraps her arm around his back and leans into him. She breathes deeply, enjoying the simple sensations of being close to him - the smell of whisky and the feel of the harsh dinner jacket on her cheek. She peers out into the darkness while searching for something to break the silence. She can just see the familiar outlines of the cedar trees in the fading light. Beyond the trees is their bench.
"Do you remember the summers when we used to sit outside after dinner?" she murmurs into his shoulder. It had started the first summer they had spent at Downton together. After one too many uncomfortable after-dinner conversations with his parents, Robert had led her to the bench outside. They had talked into the early hours, and once conversation was exhausted, they drifted back to bed and each other's arms. It had quickly became a pleasant habit.
"That was a long time ago." His voice is quiet and wistful. When she looks at him, he seems haunted, as if searching back for memories - feelings? - he had buried.
She meets his eyes. "Robert-"
The door opens behind them. She automatically steps apart from her husband in frustration. Her new ladies maid stands in the doorway, clearly horrified to be interrupting them.
"I'm so sorry."
"It's alright, Jane. I'll be..." She tries to look reassuring, but quickly realises Jane is not looking at her. Cora tracks Jane's gaze to Robert. He hasn't turned round. Instead he stands with his back to them, completely still, assiduously examining the contents of his glass. She looks back to Jane with a small smile to hide her exasperation. What she sees as the door closes fills her with horror.
Jane is looking at Robert with a mixture of concern and...infatuation? She involuntarily makes the connection - Jane's intense discomfort in her room, Robert's mood now...leaving her to sleep in his dressing room.
He drains his drink and set the glass down on the desk. Her throat constricts as her mind is filled with images of him and Jane. What do they do? What does he do...?
"Shall we go up?" His voice startles her. She swallows the lump in her throat, unable to speak or respond. She lets him take her elbow and lead her upstairs.
By the time she gets into bed, Cora has convinced herself that the incident in the Library is nothing more than her imagination - one look of concern is hardly evidence of a liaison. It doesn't stop her mind endlessly replaying the scene in the Library, or from conjuring up images of Robert and Jane in his dressing room.
"Robert," she begins as soon as he comes in her room, desperately needing reassurance and relief from the empty, sickening feeling in her stomach.
He looks at her expectantly. She speaks slowly, choosing each word carefully: "Why do you go back to your dressing room...after going to bed?"
He frowns, the way he always does when she asks him a difficult question. She waits for a few nervous moments while he unties the knot of his gown and slips it off his shoulders. Finally he slings the gown onto the nearest chair and joins her in bed-
"I've just needed to unwind. I haven't been sleeping very well."
She nods, quickly burrowing under the blankets and turning away from him to hide her tears. The instant relief is replaced by remorse and guilt. She should be the one easing his worries. He should not be retreating to his dressing room (alone?) at night - otherwise, what is the point of sleeping together in the first place? What has happened to them? What has gone so wrong? Has he really found solace with a maid? Her mind considers just what unwind could mean...She still cannot rid herself of that image of the two of them in his dressing room...
She is jolted by her husband curling up alongside her. He reaches across to take her hand. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, attempting to suppress (if not quite forget) her insecurities. She concentrates on the feel of his arms encasing her, his warm breath on her neck and his thumb stroking the back of her hand. As she drifts to sleep, she hears her name murmured against her hair.
"Cora...I'm sorry."
A/N: Sorry I took so long to update - blame the usual work and family commitments, and I found this chapter very difficult to write. Please be kind! Hopefully you 'get' what I was trying to achieve -I wanted Cora to suspect Jane/Robert but to not know anything -hence the confusion and convincing herself she's mistaken. (I was going to put Robert's POV in as well, but thought it would spoil the narrative and clarify things a bit too much - better to guess what's in his mind!) Finally, it's 1919 - so I think Cora would feel guilty for her marriage drifting apart and to want to "fix" it! (I'm not suggesting it is her fault!)