Chapter 2- So Here You Are

April 1889

The season opened and the situation at Downton had reached a critical point. Robert saw the strain age his father and embitter his mother. They knew of his plan and while they made the show of discouraging him, it was half-hearted at best, neither wanting to admit that they were sacrificing his future for the future of Downton. The idea of an American bride was almost as disdainful to him as it was to his mother but he knew what needed to be done. After almost a year of thinking about their fortunes, he knew the true state of their decline. The precipice the Crawleys found themselves on was steep and only a ridiculously healthy cash flow would bail them out. He vaguely wondered what it would be like, to court a young woman solely for the length of her purse strings. He supposed he would find out soon but the whole business, while essential, made him feel dirty.

Robert saw her for the first time at the Manchester ball. He literally stopped in the middle of a conversation when he spotted her across the room, speaking with the hostess. He asked Sir Edward who she was.

"American heiress. I believe her name is Cora Levinson. She's staying with the Manchesters. Her mother is an old friend of the Duchess's. Obscenely wealthy, I'm told."

Robert took the information in silence. Looking around the room, he saw the same people that usually came out for the season, with a few exceptions. Even the new debutantes were stale compared to the American who held his attention. He stupidly said her name to himself, rolling it around, thinking it wonderful in an unexpected sort of way. He'd never known a Cora….mostly Maud's and Catherine's and it's uniqueness and flowing tone made him smile. He could imagine whispering that name in someone's ear.

Cora stepped out into the cool night air and breathed a few deep breaths, counting to ten like her maid taught her. Sometimes the panic hit her out of nowhere and she felt her corset tighten around her, suffocating. She braced her arms against the stone wall overlooking the dark grounds and bit her lip, containing her unhappiness. The smiling and eye fluttering and the coy smirks were expected of her, a part she played in the whole farce. She was ashamed of herself, wondering what William would think if he saw her made up in the best French finery money could buy, tarting herself to the English aristocracy. Sometimes the charade and all that had happened to get her there overwhelmed her and she felt pulled down into the quagmire of her thoughts.

He found her staring ahead into the darkness as though looking for answers. The wide smile she wore all evening gone and replaced by the natural pout of her lips. Clearing his throat he hoped to get her attention without startling her, but of course the noise interrupted the silence she had found and she jumped. Robert held his breath, unprepared for the delicateness of her features, the flawlessness of her skin, the color of her eyes. He watched the melancholy he saw on her face turn to confusion at his presence and he fumbled for an excuse for following her outside.

"The grounds are magnificent, aren't they?" Robert cringed inwardly. He was making a mess of things already. Luckily, her breeding prevented her from being rude and she agreed. She nodded to the large fountain below them.

"I've admired that since arriving here. Zeus and Hera, I believe it's meant to be."

Robert relaxed at her indulgence. "A Greek mythology scholar, are you?"

Cora averted her eyes and she seemed far away. "That might be pushing it. But I've been known to read a book or two."

Robert remembered he had yet to introduce himself and so he did, trying to overcome the awkward silence that followed her words. He was surprised to feel his palms sweating, waiting for her response. She was just a girl, he reminded himself. She, in turn, supplied her name and they made small conversation, easier now as they both relaxed, about her time in England. The sounds of a waltz could soon be heard. Robert extended his hand and asked her if she would like to dance and when she said yes he tempered his response, not wanting to appear too eager.

June 1889

"The Duke of Suffolk is coming tomorrow for tea." Cora stated flatly.

Robert received this information with little outward reaction. He knew the duke had been sniffing around her, as had others, but none so persistent as Suffolk. They walked through Hyde Park in silence. He was often unsure what to say to her. He thought Americans were to be more chatty and loud but Cora usually held back and he wondered if she was trying to fit in. The glimpses he caught of the real her , he liked to think of them, were delicious crumbs she sprinkled to him periodically.

"Does that please you?" Robert asked.

She shrugged her expression oddly unreadable. Her usually expressive face made up for what she refused to speak, most of the time. "Does it matter? My mother loves the idea of a duke for a son-in-law. And I've long given up the thought that someone will fall in love with me and not my money. Some days, I wish my father had been a blacksmith."

The women in Robert's life, mother, sister, and lover were shrewd and sure and controlled the world around them. Cora was an enigma. She was contemplative, eager to please, a little sad around the edges. There was fragile steel in her eyes. Her words stirred the tension that constantly threatened to grip him. As he spent more time with her, his own motives became more distasteful to him.

"Honestly, I would just like the whole business to be done with. I can't endure another season. And if that means marrying Suffolk, so be it." Cora's voice faltered and she clenched her teeth and ignored the tight burning of her throat. She would not cry in public. Ladies did not swoon with emotion.

The air between them was heavy and Cora cursed her impropriety. She was not expected to talk of wants or desires. She was expected to bend to the will of those around her and if Robert had any inclination of proposing to her before, she was sure he had changed his mind now. He would think her hysterical and weak after her words, surely. It would be a pity if she scared him away as she had a good idea why he paid her so much attention. He was a better option than the duke.

"Aren't you too young to be so defeatist?" Robert asked and Cora took it as a good sign that he still was speaking to her.

"I'll be twenty-one in a month!" she declared, trying to lighten the mood.

"Downright ancient then. Forgive me." They had never bantered before and it was nice and foreign. Robert turned serious again. "Do you not want to marry then?"

"What I really want is...I don't know actually. I wanted something...once, but my mother has always made the decisions for our family, so here I am."

"So here you are." Robert had a sudden urge to take her hand, but he did not and they both reclined back into silence.

"How are things with your young American?" Julia tried to sound neutral but Robert knew her and he heard the notes of condescension. He refrained from speaking about Cora with her. It felt wrong to talk about her to another woman and it made him feel sullied somehow.

He ignored Julia's question and he doubted she would pry. If they started to talk about Cora then they would need to talk about them. He was close to making a decision and once he did, if Cora accepted, he would need to quit Julia. Julia would protest, try to persuade him that nothing need change, but it would and part of him was glad for that.