Cora decided that the tea gown could be salvaged, given a good seamstress, but she certainly couldn't put the dress back on that afternoon. Robert and Cora laughed as they dressed themselves again as best they could, in order for their attendants to undress and dress them again for dinner. Laying the tea gown across her bed, Cora shrugged her dressing gown on over her underclothes, knowing it was the best she could do.
"It seems somewhat ludicrous, Robert, when you think about it." She grinned up at him, standing in his embrace for one last time before they would each disappear into their rooms to wait for valet and lady's maid.
"What's that, Cora?" He kissed her forehead and then the tip of her nose.
"That we're essentially hiding the fact that we've been intimate most of the afternoon from our own servants." She chuckled and ran her fingers along his shirt front. "I'm sure they'll figure it out."
"Well, if they do, they do. But I'm not about to disclose the nature of our relations to my valet. It's none of his business."
"No. It isn't. Let them think what they like." She smiled at him. "Besides, it's not as if we're unmarried."
Robert's smile reflected her own. "No, it's not as if we're unmarried. I feel most fortunate that we are, Cora – more than I thought I could feel."
"We should go to our rooms now, I think. They'll be here any moment." Cora leaned up to kiss his chin, pleasantly surprised when he tilted his head down to cover her lips with his.
"I rather enjoy kissing you, Cora Crawley." He grinned.
"And I enjoy being kissed." She pulled away from him reluctantly, taking his hand and examining it. "Are you sure it's alright?" She kissed the back of each finger gently as she had done earlier.
"It will be fine, Cora. Your careful ministrations have made all the difference, I'm sure."
"To your hand, or otherwise?" She smirked at him.
Robert grinned even wider. "Both." Kissing her forehead again, he drew his hand away. "I'll see you in a while."
Cora nodded and they parted, retiring to their own rooms. It wasn't very long before valet and lady's maid arrived. If Robert's valet wondered about the odd condition of his clothing – for the cufflinks were the opposite of way they should be and his cravat was in a ridiculously hopeless state – he kept his observations and conclusions to himself, saying nothing as he dressed his master for dinner.
Her lady's maid did show a certain amount of dismay when she entered the room to see her mistress in her dressing gown. Walking over to the bed, the maid studied the ripped tea gown, before fixing Cora with a bewildered look.
"It got caught on something and tore." Cora blushed, knowing her maid would know it wasn't the truth from the amount of damage done. But she also knew she wouldn't comment upon it.
And she didn't. She simply handed Cora a letter before turning her attention to her tasks.
When Cora stepped out into the sitting room later, dressed for dinner in a frock of deep crimson, she brought the letter with her.
Kissing her husband on the cheek, she held it out to him. "We've been invited to a ball tomorrow night. Lady Margaret and Lord Henry are giving it."
Perusing the invitation, Robert looked at her. "We're set to go home tomorrow afternoon. We'd need to arrange to stay another night in London in order to attend."
"Would that be so bad?" she asked, resting a gloved hand on his arm.
Looking at his wife in her crimson flounces, with her blue eyes turned up to his expectantly, he could think of nothing he'd rather do than to have another day and night away from Downton with her. "No, it wouldn't be bad at all." He kissed her cheek, then guided her across the room to the desk. "Let me go ahead and compose a telegram to Mama and Papa, and you write an acceptance to the invitation, yes?" Smiling at her, he took up a piece of paper, a pencil, and a book to press down upon, leaving her at the desk with the pen and ink well.
Sitting down on a chair, he wrote out a telegram, happy to note that while there was still some pain, his fingers appeared to be working perfectly normally. He finished and glanced up to see if Cora had as well.
Standing up several minutes later, having sealed the note, she walked over and handed it to him. He took it from her and tucked both notes into his pocket in order to help her on with her cloak.
"We'll leave these with the desk. They can take care of them." After they had donned their outer garments, he held out his arm to her. "Shall we?"
Cora smiled at him. "We certainly shall, Robert."
"It's ridiculous! What is he thinking?" Violet Crawley read the telegram again, mystified.
She and Rosamund sat in the drawing room with their needle work the next morning. Violet had taken the telegram from the footman and read it, then read it aloud to Rosamund in some disbelief.
"My notion, Mama, is that Robert thinks it might be nice to take his wife to a ball, as they've been asked to one, to have a night of frivolity instead of coming back here to a night of dreadful boredom." Rosamund smirked to herself. Perhaps her plan had worked. Robert hated balls. Only under the most auspicious of circumstances would he have consented to go.
"I don't know why he decided to take Cora on this trip to London anyway. What did he think? That he would make everything better here by taking her away for a few days?" Violet scoffed.
Rosamund rolled her eyes. "Mama, they needed some time alone together. They haven't since their first weeks of marriage. And those couldn't have been exactly comfortable for either of them."
Violet pursed her lips together. "And an extra day? If he was going to be gone so long, we could have had the house opened. I don't even want to think of the cost of another night for them to stay in that ostentatious palace."
"Robert must think Cora is enjoying her time there, or else he would have brought her home." Rosamund looked her mother in the eye. "Besides, it's on her anyway, isn't it?"
Shoving the telegram into her needle work basket, Violet aimed a withering stare at her daughter. "Rosamund, you really shouldn't say everything you think."
"Trust me, Mama, I don't say everything I think. If I did, I'd be in disfavor with you far more often than I already am." She bent over her embroidery again. "Let Robert and Cora have their fun. Lord knows they don't get any here."
"Humph," Violet grunted, ringing for tea.
Earlier that morning, Robert had again woken with his wife's head on his chest, her body nestled comfortably against his. He watched Cora sleep for a while, reflecting over the past two days, flexing his still sore fingers, and hoping she might wake up early enough that they would have some time to themselves before her maid was supposed to arrive.
And they would get to be here like this for another night. Robert smiled thinking of this.
Then, remembering something from last night, he frowned a little. While they had been out at the restaurant, Cora had excused herself to visit the ladies' dressing room, and Robert had overheard some men talking at a table behind theirs. Apparently the story of Cora's drunken behavior the night before, as well as his performance that afternoon, had gotten around their set in London. Sighing, Robert listened to them, they apparently completely oblivious to the fact that he could hear them. Or perhaps they didn't care if he heard. Robert just hoped that none of it would get back to Cora. While none of it was particularly bad, in his opinion (he'd certainly heard far worse things about others), he knew Cora would take any criticism to heart and believe she'd failed him somehow. He hoped she never heard any of it. The one drawback to their remaining in London another night – and especially to attending a social function like a ball – was that the chances of Cora hearing any version of this gossip increased considerably.
When she got back, Robert pretended he'd heard nothing and bent his attention upon entertaining her and making her smile. At least in that he was successful. The rest of their evening was successful as well. They'd abstained from having any champagne at dinner, but Robert chuckled when his valet brought up yet another bottle with him afterwards, knowing it was Rosamund's doing. Robert and Cora drank champagne together and spent a glorious night most deliciously entwined on her bed.
And, true to his vow to himself, his silent promise to her, he had stayed – indeed, had never thought of going – once again that night, waking to realize that, even in a strange place, he seemed to sleep better with her in his arms.
Robert didn't have to wait very long for her to wake, and, lifting her head, she rubbed her eyes and smiled at him. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Cora. How did you sleep?" He brushed her hair back from her face, over her shoulders, smiling back at her.
"Very well, Robert. And you?" Cora stretched like a cat, pressing herself against him.
Robert's eyes glazed over at this contact, and it took him half a minute to recall the question. "Marvelously." He watched as she continued to stretch, aware that his body was beginning to react to her skin brushing his. "Er, Cora? I think we might have time to…"
Pausing, Cora glanced at his face, and then moved her eyes down, noticing the blankets were not quite flat over him anymore. "Oh my. Well, yes, I think we do have time to, erm, um – "
Leaning over suddenly, Robert stopped her ramblings with a fiery kiss. Soon her hands were all over his body, and it wasn't long before he rolled her onto her back and covered her with his body, thrusting into her with the intensity of his need, Cora's whimpers of desire and cries of bliss spurring him on.
When they had both had achieved their release, and they lay together recuperating, Cora gazed at her husband lovingly, grazing her fingers over the dark curls on his chest. "Now that's a nice way to wake up, isn't it?" she whispered.
"Mmmmm…" Robert murmured his assent as he bent down to kiss her neck.
Laughing lightly, Cora moved her hand from the hair on his chest to the hair on his head, brushing her hand through it. "Robert," she said gently. "We don't have time before she brings the breakfast tray to do it again." Then she whispered throatily in his ear, "Unfortunately."
Sighing, Robert unwillingly sat up, looking down at her and caressing her face. "I'll see you in a bit, then." He gave her a tender kiss, then got up to leave.
Robert noticed that he hated leaving her.
The two strolled around London again, Cora having them stop to purchase a couple of pairs of kid gloves for the ball that night, these somehow being overlooked in the packing. Not that they had expected to go to a ball, of course. After this, they went into a bookshop together, wandering separately among the shelves, exchanging grins when they happened to see one another.
About an hour passed this way, and Robert, beginning to feel hungry and noting the time, having found a book he'd been looking for, went in search of his wife. He found her standing with a large book open in her hands, staring intently at the page in front of her. Walking up to her, he stood at her elbow, turning his eyes upon the page to see what had captured her so.
The book seemed to be about archaeology, including plates of the discoveries the scholars had made. The plate at which Cora stared featured a stone tablet of some sort, upon which had been carved a series of pictograms and the images of a man and woman, with their children. Robert was a student of history, but this was outside of his sphere of knowledge.
"Who are they?" he asked her.
Cora continued to look at the page. "The Egyptian pharaoh Akhenaten and his wife, Nefertiti, and their three daughters."
He recognized the name. "The heretic? The one who is called the first monotheist?"
Nodding, Cora went on. "Yes. Also, the style of art during his reign was unusual. Instead of being portrayed as perfect, this pharaoh – everyone really during the period – was shown in a more natural way, although he looks quite odd. Also, he had them depict his queen, the chief royal wife, as equal in stature to himself, and often in family poses with their daughters. It was unheard of." She paused, and Robert heard her swallow, as if something was in her throat. She ran a finger lightly over the figures. "He must have loved her very much."
Robert cringed slightly, closing his eyes, trying to block out the wistfulness in her voice. He knew she didn't mean to hurt him, but somehow hearing her say this did. He had to stop himself from sighing. "It's time for luncheon, Cora."
Cora placed the book on the shelf slowly, turning to him with a small smile. "Yes. I'm ready."
He held up his own book. "You go on outside, while I purchase this. I'll be just behind you."
"Alright." She turned and left him standing there.
Once he was sure she was gone, Robert pulled the Egyptology book off the shelf and put it with his own, bringing them both to the clerk. He wasn't sure why he wanted to buy it for her, but he did. He requested that the books be delivered to their hotel for them, adding her gloves to the parcel.
Cora looked at him when he stepped out of the shop a few moments later, puzzled. "Where is your book?"
"I told them to deliver it, as well as your gloves, to the hotel. I didn't want to carry them around." He held his arm out for her to take. "Where would you like to have luncheon?" He asked her, hoping to divert her attention elsewhere.
They spent another lovely afternoon together, having luncheon, finding a park to walk in, then taking tea at the hotel's tea room before going back upstairs to their suite.
Letting Cora get changed for the afternoon, Robert extracted the Egyptology book from the parcel and hid it under the pillow of the bed in which he hadn't yet slept. He wanted to give it to her as a gift, but he wanted to wait for the right time.
Cora waited only a few moments after her maid had left the suite before she stepped into the sitting room, her tea gown a pale shade of lavender. She wore a wide smile and tugged the newspaper out of his hands before sitting on his lap.
"Don't tear my tea gown this time," she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering into his ear. "I don't think my maid believed me when I said I caught the yellow one on something yesterday."
"Well, we'll just have to divest you of it before I get driven to the point of madness this time, won't we?" His hands around her waist, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the top of each of her breasts, making her shiver in delight.
"It sounds most prudent, Robert." She placed a finger under his chin to lift his head so she could kiss him.
The rest of the afternoon passed wonderfully in this manner, and Cora had her tea gown intact when her lady's maid came to dress her for the ball. Choosing another new dress for the evening, cream colored with gold trimmings, Cora instructed the maid to pull the laces even tighter on her corset, as the design of the dress called for an even slimmer waistline than her other frocks. It was somewhat difficult to take a deep breath, but the dress looked stunning, and Cora was most satisfied with the results.
She was even more satisfied when she went into the sitting room and Robert's reaction upon seeing her was as unguarded as it had been two nights before. Blushing, Cora kissed his cheek before they wrapped themselves up to go out. He could barely take his eyes off her.
Once they arrived at Lady Margaret and Lord Henry's London house, Robert and Cora parted briefly – he into the men's dressing room and she into the ladies' – to divest themselves of their outer garments, Cora also making sure she wasn't disheveled after they had spent the carriage ride groping one another. Robert met her coming out of the dressing room, and offered her his arm once more. As they entered the ballroom, Robert couldn't have been prouder of the woman next to him. In his opinion, she surpassed every other woman in the room by leaps and bounds, and his chest swelled with such pride – and gratitude that she was his – that he felt it might burst.
He only hoped she felt the same of him.
As was proper, they greeted their hosts, then danced the first dance together. Robert then spent the next few dances watching Cora dance with other men. What he hadn't counted on when accepting the invitation for a ball was how he would feel as he sipped champagne and saw her smiles and observed how other men ogled her unabashedly.
Robert endeavored to do his duty by their hosts, by her, so he wouldn't embarrass anyone unnecessarily by acting the part of the wallflower (most reprehensible behavior at a ball, he knew), dancing a few dances with other women, mostly the wives of his acquaintances, doing his utmost to be a pleasing partner. But his eye was drawn to Cora, always. Every time one of her partners would make her laugh, his chest would tighten. Every time one drew close enough to speak in her ear – the volume of the music making this necessary – he felt his blood grow warmer.
After several dances, Robert came up behind where she sat on her chair looking at her dance card. Leaning down, he whispered to her. "I see you aren't engaged for the waltz."
Cora looked up at him. "No. I suppose I'll be sitting those out."
Robert knew the waltz was her favorite. He took her hand. "No. You won't." Pulling her out of her chair, he led her onto the floor.
Blushing profusely, Cora protested, "Robert, it's bad manners for us to dance more than one together. We're supposed to be socializing."
For all her expostulating, Robert knew from her voice and her demeanor that she was secretly elated. It reassured him. "I know, but it would be a shame for you to have to sit out every waltz." His arm encircled her waist and he took her hand in his as the musicians began. He whispered in her ear, "As it's your favorite."
Cora blushed harder and her eyes shone as they moved through the dance. The only awful thing was Robert could not hold her as close to him as she wished he could. Neither one took their eyes from the other.
Robert claimed every waltz until supper. When at supper, Cora found she couldn't eat. Her corset was too tight, and she was both too nervous and too happy to eat.
After supper, Cora and Robert each danced a few dances with acquaintances, then another waltz together. In a break on her dance card, Cora left the ballroom for the ladies' dressing room, feeling a trifle too warm. On her way there, just before she turned to enter the hallway which would take her to the dressing rooms, voices reached her, and what they said made her put her hand to her mouth to cover her gasp.
Cora stood there, just before the entrance to the hallway, too intent on what she heard to realize she was eavesdropping.
"How crass!" came one woman's voice. "It's so like an American to be drunk and kiss her husband – and from what I heard it wasn't only kissing – in a public place. How mortified he must be!"
"Madeleine!" exclaimed a voice that Cora recognized as Lady Margaret, their hostess'. "How ungenerous and unfair of you. I know your husband has had to drag you out of restaurants inebriated before. And from what I hear, he doesn't enjoy your behavior as it seemed Robert Crawley did hers."
Cora went red listening to them, knowing she should leave, but somehow she had a morbid fascination about what they were saying about her – about them.
"Margaret, I can't believe you invited Sir Alistair too! Did you see how quickly he left after he realized they were here?" Another woman giggled.
Margaret sounded offended. "How was I to know? I sent their invitation yesterday, before any of that happened. I hear Alistair asked her to be his mistress. I can't believe the nerve of him! As I hear, she defended herself beautifully."
Well, at least I have one friend here, Cora thought, continuing to listen.
"And Robert Crawley knocked him flat for that!" A different woman chirruped. "I would love if he would do that for me."
"Jane Noorington!" cried the voice Cora now recognized as Madeleine's.
"I'm sorry. I've always been a little in love with Robert Crawley. And he would never give me a second glance." Jane sounded crestfallen.
"Of course not, Jane. No one would give you a second glance." This drew a number of twitters from the group.
"Jane, don't look so gloomy. Someone will fall for you," came one sympathetic voice among them.
"Not the way he has for her. Have you seen him?" Jane asked.
Cora caught her breath as Margaret answered, "Of course we have. He's like a different man. Do you see the way he looks at her?"
Their voices seemed to fall fast and thick upon Cora's ears now, her head beginning to spin: "When she enters the room, he can't keep his eyes away from her," "He's so attentive – did you see the way he fussed over her at supper?" "And his rude behavior in dancing with her for every waltz – Robert Crawley would never be intentionally rude. He's fallen for her, mark my words," "I agree, I've never seen him thus," "He's clearly in love with that American," "Do you see how jealously he looks at the other men when they dance with her?" "Someone has finally caught Robert Crawley's heart…"
Wishing desperately she could take a deep breath, Cora clutched the molding surrounding the hallway entrance. Her vision went blurry…. and then… she collapsed.
Robert was summoned to his wife's side as soon as someone found her unconscious on the floor just off the main hallway of the house.
Lord Henry ordering everyone back from them to give her air, Robert knelt beside her and lifted her head onto his lap, caressing her face. "Cora, wake up, please?"
Lady Margaret knelt on the other side of her. "She'll be alright, Robert," she said, touching his hand gently in reassurance, her voice compassionate. She saw very clearly the fear in his eyes. "It's only a swoon, I'm sure. I saw how little she ate at supper."
Nearly wild with worry, Robert couldn't hear her. He stroked Cora's hair and pleaded with her, "Please, darling, wake up. Please."
Finally, one of the other women brought Lady Margaret her smelling salts, and she held them under Cora's nose.
Gasping, Cora awoke, and the first thing she saw was Robert's face, tears glistening in his eyes. "Robert," she said faintly.
"Oh, thank God," Robert breathed, still stroking her hair.
Lady Margaret looked from one to the other, then touched Robert's hand again. "Robert, you should get her back to the hotel. She needs rest, food." She looked down at Cora. "You have a good husband here, my dear. He's been most attentive."
"Thank you, Lady Margaret," Cora said, still a bit breathless. Then her eyes turned to Robert. "He is the most remarkable of men."
"Let's get you back," he said, his eyes only leaving hers for a moment to thank Lady Margaret for helping them.
Supporting her, Robert walked out into the hallway with her, waiting while friends of theirs got their things out of the dressing room. Being one of the first couples to leave, they didn't have long to wait for their carriage, and the night air seemed to help Cora breathe easier anyway. Once he'd bundled her in, she leaned against him heavily, and he put an arm around her, still very alarmed and concerned.
Inside the hotel, he stopped briefly at the desk with her to ask for their attendants to be sent up immediately as well as some food. Margaret had been right. Cora had eaten nearly nothing at dinner, and Robert thought it was at least one reason why she'd fainted.
Still supporting her, Robert got her into the suite and onto her bed, refusing to leave her until her maid came to undress her. Only then did he return to his own room to change into his night clothes.
Robert had his valet open the door for the waiters to bring in and set up the food, and then dismissed him for the night. He cracked the bedroom door just enough to watch for when Cora's maid left, and when she had, Robert knocked on her door.
"Come in," Cora called.
Opening the door and slipping inside, Robert saw her propped up on the bed. "Cora? Are you alright?"
Giving him a soft smile, Cora said, "Yes. I'm fine." She chuckled a bit. "I fear in my vanity and in my desire to please you, I may have had my corset too tight. I couldn't eat, and I couldn't breathe properly."
Robert crossed the room and sat on the bed, taking her hand. "Cora, why would you do that? You don't need to impress me in such ways." His voice and aspect were all concern.
She shrugged. "I don't know, Robert. I just… wanted to make you proud of me."
Kissing her hand, Robert shook his head. "You don't need to do such things for me to be proud of you, Cora. You looked lovely tonight, radiant, but you always do."
Smiling at him, Cora blushed. "I'm sorry I worried you. I… there were a number of reasons I fell into a swoon like a weak woman." She chuckled again.
Robert nodded. "You ate hardly a thing at supper. If you can get up, they've brought food." He looked at her. "But if you'd prefer to stay here, I can bring you something. Please, Cora, you have to eat." There was an urgency and determination to his voice that wouldn't be gainsaid, even if Cora wasn't starving anyway.
"I'll get up. I'm better now that I'm not in that corset." She squeezed his hand.
Helping her out of bed, Robert led her over to the small dining area, sat her down, piled her plate full, and set it in front of her.
Cora laughed. "I couldn't eat all that if I truly was starving, Robert."
Robert sat next to her and looked at her, still worried. "Eat what you can, darling."
Cora fixed him with a long stare. Then she did as he bade and ate heartily of what he'd set in front of her. Finally, she pushed the mostly empty plate away, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her serviette.
"Better?" Robert asked.
"Yes, much," she answered, smiling at him, then turning in her chair to look at him more intently. "I heard some very nice things about you tonight."
"Did you?" He seemed surprised. "I can't imagine what. Will you tell me?"
"Oh, there were a number of things. But the main thing was that you appeared happy." She placed her hand in his.
Robert bent his head to look at their hands, then laced his fingers through hers. "I am happy," he said.
Cora gazed at their hands too, feeling slightly lightheaded once more.
"I am happy because you seem to be happy too," he added, bringing her hand up to kiss it gently, then lifting his eyes to her face.
Feeling her eyes grow moist, Cora took a deep breath. "I am."
Robert smiled at her. "Let's get you back into bed. I don't want you to get overly tired, and we have a long day tomorrow."
Taking his arm, Cora let him lead her to the bed. After he took her dressing gown from her and tucked her up into bed, Cora looked at him somewhat fearfully. "Now what?"
Looking at her curiously, wondering what she had in her head to look at him in such a way, Robert replied, "Now I have a gift for you, but I have to get it out of my room." Kissing her forehead, he said, "I'll be right back."
Retrieving the book from under his pillow, he blew out the candles in his room and then in the rest of the suite before going back into her room and closing the door behind him. He got into bed beside her, nestling close to her and putting one arm around her shoulders before placing the book on her lap.
Tears stung her eyes as she recognized it as the book she'd been examining in the bookstore. "Robert, I don't know what to say." She turned to look at him.
Drawing closer to her, he bent his head to whisper into her ear, "You don't have to say anything, Cora." He opened it to the page they had been looking at before, the pharaoh, his queen, and their children. "He's looking at her very tenderly, don't you think?"
Cora nodded, silent tears falling down her cheeks. "Yes. And she adores him. I can tell."
"I agree with you, Cora. And he must have loved her very much. It's written in his face." Robert kissed her temple, playing with her hair, knowing she'd left it loose for him.
"It is, isn't it?" Cora didn't mean for him to answer this. And he didn't. He simply pressed another kiss to her hair.
A little later, they fell asleep, propped up against the pillows, the book between them. Cora's head and hand rested on his chest, and Robert's head rested upon hers, his hand upon her hair, as if he had been stroking it when slumber claimed him.