Chapter 4- I Plight Thee My Troth

September 1889

The day had been a haze of activity and anxious anticipation. Robert tugged at his collar, the stiff starchiness scratching at his neck. He leaned uncomfortably from one foot to the other as the stranger before him prattled on about steamships or railroads, Robert couldn't quite keep up. His thoughts jumped around, thinking of what led him to this day and wondering if he hadn't been hasty afterall. The last thought scared him the most, as there was no turning back now, they had said 'I do' before God and family. He had made promises to her at the altar that he was just wondering if he could keep.

Robert looked around the crowded room of well wishers and wondered if they all could see his duplicity. If he were back in England, his friends and peers would barely be able to contain their veiled winks, their sly nudges. Their expectations of the married life differed vastly from the crowd of New Yorkers surrounding him. These people believed in love and monogamy and the exception was the spouse that strayed. He had never lied to Cora about his feelings but he still felt the cad. She was painfully young and for all her breeding and refinement and knowledge, there was something below the surface that he couldn't grasp and it unnerved him. He wondered if she had really given enough thought to what they had signed their lives to. He feared that she would regret her decision some day in the future, when the girl she was eventually grew into a woman and found herself woefully unhappy.

Robert now felt the finality of his decision and he questioned his feelings and reasons for marrying Cora. He had been telling himself it was about more than money. It helped him sleep at night; it helped him look her in the eyes. The memory of watching her pen waver slightly as they signed the papers that would strip her of a fortune she had never even touched was still with him. He had felt both sympathy for her and disgust with himself as she worried her bottom lip in between her teeth; his father's barrister explaining the details of the entail in the brisque language of the law. He saw her trying to untwist the implications and ramifications in her head and she briefly looked at him, cold fear in her eyes. He tried to smile encouragingly. The fear he had seen was replaced by a straightening of her shoulders and a resignation that pained him. Robert wondered if the harsh transaction the day before cast a pall over her mood today as it did his.

Nausea on one's wedding day, he was sure, was not a good sign of things to come. He broke off from the group he was speaking to with a muttered apology and walked toward the drinks table set up in the corner, intent on another glass of champagne. Standing there, taking small sips of the bubbly liquid, Robert glanced to his left and then fully turned to take in the scene. His new wife was surrounded by friends, the other women talked animatedly and quickly as he was learning was the custom in America.

Cora, in contrast, listened quietly, her eyes turned down. He didn't think she was even listening to them. He saw her staring at her hand, gently fingering the rings there, the diamond engagement ring he had given her as well as the new wedding band. Robert was temporarily lost watching her, the light from the window to her side shining in on her and making the diamonds and embroidery of her wedding dress sparkle. From the moment he saw her, he knew she was beautiful, but this day had surpassed even her best day in England. She had been breath taking coming down the aisle and he couldn't quite believe that the creature approaching him was to be his.

Robert took another sip of his champagne. He needed to stop this morose line of thought. It was his wedding day afterall. He should attempt to enjoy himself. With the intention of doing that he purposefully strode over to his new bride and bowed ceremoniously. The women flanking her giggled like little girls and he tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. Cora curtsied sweetly before offering her hand and he led her to the dance floor as a waltz began. Twirling her around, he remembered their first dance. She had on the same perfume and it, along with the feel of her in his arms, helped clear his head of some of the dark thoughts that plagued him.

"Have I told you yet how stunning you are today?" Robert asked quietly.

Cora's cheeks pinked at his words and she swept her eyes down shyly before looking up again. "Do you really think so?"

Robert was taken slightly aback. "Of course! Haven't you seen yourself in the mirror? How can you even question it!"

"It's just...I feel slightly ridiculous. And self conscious."

Robert used the hand that was holding hers to turn her chin up to him so he could see her eyes. There was too much there to decipher. "You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?"

Her blush from before deepend. "It must be from all of those years of Harold voicing his brotherly opinions. As it is, I feel like a peacock on display at the zoo now."

Robert chuckled before squeezing her hand affectionately. "You should get used to it, Lady Downton."

"Now there is something that will take getting used to, most definitely." Cora replied.

The dizzying pace of the last two weeks had left Cora's head spinning. The arrival of Robert and his family, the lunches and teas and social calls leading up to the wedding, the wedding itself and their departure two days later for Europe were a blur. Cora felt she finally had a chance to breath, standing at the railing, the cold night air of the Atlantic whipping her dress around her feet. She fumbled in her pocket for a ginger candy, her stomach rolling as the ship crashed through the rocky waves of the water. Never having been a good sailor, Cora had been trying to ignore the sick feeling that had started soon after they disembarked. New York harbor had long since faded into a small line on the horizon and now it was just open sea all around. Already, Cora could feel the clench in her chest as she wondered when she would be back on America's shores. She refused to think that it would be never, but knowing Robert's disdain for her country, she couldn't imagine it would be soon. She had never seen her father cry but there were tears in his eyes as he hugged her goodbye on the dock and his voice was gruff as he made Robert promise to take care of her. He had pressed a small item into her hand before she left, her tiny stuffed dog, which had been a favorite of hers as a child, long since forgotten. For good luck , he had said before holding her tight once more and then releasing her to the waiting arms of her husband.

Cora wiped away a stray tear, hoping to banish the overpowering melancholy that was descending on her quickly. Her wedding day had been truly lovely, except for the part where the groom declares his undying love and devotion to the fair maid, but Robert had looked pleased most of the day and his mother had refrained from too many strained looks. She had been happy that day and that night, when Robert came to her. It wasn't so awful as her mother had led her to believe but he had left her afterwards, alone with her thoughts.

She should be looking forward to their honeymoon, but all Cora could think about was the life and the girl she was leaving behind and all of the things she didn't know that would be waiting for her in her new life. She heard whispers at the reception, friends of her mother's and their daughters who had made the Atlantic crossing before her. They talked of cold houses and colder husbands and servants that double crossed and calculating in laws. Most took lovers, or endured their husbands infidelities. She had to walk away before their tales could implant themselves any further into her imagination.

A crack of lightning split the sky above her and fat rain drops began to fall on her head. Hurrying away from the railing she swayed with the boat as the ocean turned even choppier below her. Cora was soaked by the time she reached the cabin door, which was already being held open by Robert who looked up and down the corridor for her. She wondered at the furrow in his brow which cleared as he saw her.

"I was getting worried! It's quite stormy out there." Robert placed a hand on her back and guided her into their room.

After closing the door, Robert turned to his wife. Cora stood in the middle of the room, dripping, with her arms around herself trying to warm up. The boat lurched to the side and they both stumbled. Reaching out quickly, he steadied her on her feet and rubbed her cold hands in between his.

"You should change, your freezing." Robert said softly. "Would you like help?"

Taken by surprise at his request, Cora had to stop herself from gasping at his forwardness. He was her husband now, she had to remind herself, the idea still so foreign. Nodding her head and lowering her eyes she presented her back to Robert and barely felt his touch as he quickly undid the many tiny buttons running the length of her dress. She closed her eyes and sighed as the fabric fell to the floor, exposing her back to the cool air of the room. Robert unlaced her corset and her whole body felt the sudden freedom of release as the boned cage fell off of her. The tracing of Robert's finger from the side of her neck down to her shoulder triggered a shiver and her breathing quickened. Cora tried to concentrate on the feeling of his soft touch but as she attempted to clear her mind she became more aware of the swaying under her feet and the tossing of her stomach.

"Robert?" She muttered through gritted teeth.

"Yes?" Robert's voice was husky and low.

Cora broke away from his hands and ran to the water closet, unable to swallow down her seasickness any longer. Robert stood there dumbly, his hand still poised in the air where her neck had just been. He wasn't sure what had caused her to go running away from him, naked, until he heard the violent sound of her retching. Standing there momentarily, Robert struggled with what to do. He didn't think "in sickness and in health" would be tested so soon in their young marriage. He went to the door and knocked.

"Are you alright?" Robert shook his head and put it in his hands, unsure why he became a buffoon in Cora's presence. It was quite obvious by the continued sounds of her sickness that she was anything but alright.

He waited outside, wanting to give her privacy, but he worried that maybe the gallant thing to do would be to go in. Robert had almost convinced himself to go to her when she appeared in the frame of the doorway, a towel wrapped around her, holding on while the ship continued to sway. The ghost white pallor of her face and the watering of her eyes inspired a surge of affection in Robert and he swept her up into his arms, carrying her to her bed.

Placing her gently down, Robert stroked her hair and she closed her eyes and breathed rhythmically, trying to settle her still rolling stomach.

"Can I get you anything?" Robert asked.

"Maybe some water." Cora replied, her eyes still closed and her face turning even more green as the boat continued to lurch. A soft groan escaped her lips. Robert quickly poured her a drink and sat at the edge of the bed while she took small sips.

"Are you prone to seasickness?" Robert inquired, taking the glass from her hands and helping her into her nightdress, trying not to let the brief flashes of her skin excite him.

"Unfortunately, yes…" Cora replied, allowing him to gently push her down on the bed. She curled up on her side, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. She could only imagine what he thought of her, and wondered if this would make him think her weakly constituted. Her mother had tried to impart on her the importance of appearing vigorous and strong when courting. Every Englishman wanted to know you would thrive in the country and be able to bear the rigors of repeat pregnancies.

"It must have been torture for you, crossing the Atlantic so many times this past year…" Robert's voice was as soft as the touch of his hand as it made circular motions in the middle of her back. The acidic tidal wave in her stomach quieted under his care and she felt exhaustion claim her, letting his words linger in the air between them.

Robert took a gratifying sip from his glass, the bubbles of the champagne already playing with his head and leaving him giddy. He looked across the candlelit table and took in the sight of his wife. He still stuttered around that word, barely able to imagine that he was now someone's husband. The three weeks they had spent in France had been awkward and enjoyable, in equal parts. Cora was an agreeable traveling companion, once she got on dry land and off the ship. She had an almost unending reserve of energy and towed him from spot to spot wanting to see as much as possible. Robert was pleased to discuss art and history and politics with her, marveling at the points she would make or the impressions certain things had on her. Her French was perfection and he listened to her fondly as she conversed with the staff that served them. He hadn't the slightest idea what she was saying, but those fluid words coming out of her perfect mouth was a sight he could see for hours on end.

He watched her as she picked up her own glass and met his eyes over the rim. Her's were a deeper blue than he had ever seen, reflecting the light off of her sapphire colored dress. They held him as he stared back at her, having to restrain himself from reaching across the table and touching her hand. He realized, as more and more of the awkwardness began to wear away during their time together, that he wanted to make her happy and it scared him to have so much control over someone else's life. The way she looked at him told him so. Since their marriage, Robert watched Cora transform slowly as she grew more comfortable in his presence. She still fell back into moments of shyness, but more often she no longer watered down her reactions. Her eyes would grow wide when she was pleased. Her mouth spread into an infectious smile when she was happy. She clapped her hands when she was excited. And when her eyes met his he could see her love for him. It made the residual guilt he had over his reasons for marrying her almost unbearable and when she uttered the words after their fourth night in Paris he hated himself for not being able to say them back.

Smiling at her, Robert tilted his glass towards hers and she met him across the table, the crystal edges tinkling together. Cora raised her eyebrows before taking a sip.

"To us." Robert said. "I hope you've enjoyed yourself as much as I have."

Cora gazed at Robert for a moment before looking down. "Being here with you has been magical." She said, her voice so low Robert had to lean closer.

Perhaps it was the champagne that made him so bold but Robert found he could no longer resist his urge to touch her. He reached across the table and folded her hand into his, rubbing the silky skin. She looked up, startled and her face transformed into the happiest he had seen her so far, her eyes on him. He could get lost in them, he was sure.

Cora, feeling empowered by Robert's touch, returned his caress, teasing the underside of his wrist with her thumb. The last few weeks had been hard, but also sweet. Sometimes, their silences could grow uncomfortable, when each ran out of something to say or when they disagreed and weren't sure how to proceed. She imagined it would get easier over time, but it made the present a little unbearable just the same. Cora felt wound up tightly most of the time, weighing each word and action heavily, trying to figure out the right combination to win Robert's love. It was exhausting her mentally and she worried that she would fail. However, there were times, when he was unconscious of his own actions, when she saw that his feelings for her were deeper than just friendliness. A slight touch to the small of her back, the way he protectively drew her closer on a crowded street, the gaze she could feel on her body when she wasn't looking at him, they all indicated that he more than tolerated her.

Robert's touch on her hand grew more insistent and he caught her by surprise when he stated, "I'm quite full suddenly. Shall we go?"

Cora had barely heard the door shut behind them when Robert grabbed her waist and roughly turned her around before crushing her to him. Her brief moment of terror was replaced as his mouth hungrily devoured hers and she replied with equal fervour, stunned how quickly his actions affected her. She was minimally aware of his frantic hands tugging at her dress and corset, too caught up in her own need to touch him. It shocked her that however awkward they could be outside the bedroom, in it they were perfectly in sync, growing bolder and more attuned to each other with every coupling.

This part of marriage was the most terrific fun.

Robert could think of nothing but getting her dress off. His need for her grew everyday. Usually he was able to temper his responses, but after a night of drinking champagne, the look of her in that dress and the slow stroke of her hand barrelled through all of his defenses and it was all he could do to wait until they were in the seclusion of their room before pouncing on her. By the way she responded to his touch with a similar frenzy, she was just as ready as he was. He had been worried about this part of their relationship, before their wedding night. He panicked that she would be frightened and think the whole business messy; a duty she performed periodically for the sole production of an heir. It was a pleasant surprise when Cora seemed to enjoy and even encourage the exploration of their intimacy. She had yet to deny his advances and had even engineered some of her own. As prepared as his relationship with Julia had made him for the physical part of making love, it had been nothing compared to what he was just beginning to have with Cora.

"My God. How do you grow more beautiful?" Robert whispered, taking in her naked form below him before lowering himself down into her waiting arms.