Chapter 12- Fathers and Daughters

July 1892

Robert watched with mirth as eighteen month old Mary helped her mother blow out the solitary candle on the small chocolate cake he held in front of them. With the exception of eye color, they were a mirror image, their faces close together, rosey lips pulled into twin puckers, pale faces framed by masses of dark curls. After a few unsuccessful tries, the flame was extinguished and Mary jumped in delight, clapping her pudgy hands together.

"Happy birthday darling." Robert said and leaned over, placing a soft kiss on his wife's lips.

"No Papa," Mary shouted, swatting her hand at his face and flinging her own arms around her mother's neck and kissing her sweetly on the cheek. "My Mama!"

Cora laughed at the stern face the little girl made at her father and pulled her tightly into a hug, squeezing Mary who squealed with delight. Robert's lips turned down in an exaggerated pout.

"Oh sweet Mary, how about a kiss for your Papa?" His tone was pitiful but Mary remained strong, clinging to Cora even tighter before shaking her head and bestowing another kiss on her mother. Robert held his hand to his heart and gasped.

"If I give you a piece of cake, won't you give me a kiss?" Robert held the cake in front of Mary and her eyes grew wide. Instead of running to Robert, she ran into the grass, dancing around their blanket chanting 'cake' over and over.

"Well, that worked splendidly…" Robert sighed. He placed the treat down and picked up the baby who had been watching the celebration from her spot in the shade. Edith gurgled happily as he snuggled his nose to her cheek.

"See Mary, your sister loves your dear Papa." Robert called out, only to be met by the child stopping her dance and sticking her tongue out at him. She caught sight of a butterfly and began chasing it as Cora chuckled.

Robert turned to her and feigned disappointment. "She loves you more than me!" He whined.

His wife threw her head back and released a throaty laugh, shaking her head. "Are you jealous, Robert?"

It was no secret that Mary adored her mother. She ran to her first thing in the morning, ignoring Robert altogether. She called for her at night when she was frightened and when she was hurt only her Mama's kisses would do. Robert was constantly begging his little girl for a kiss or a hug and she would bestow them grudgingly, but Mary's affection was bountiful for Cora.

"It looks like it's you and me against them, my dear." Robert told the two month old in his arms.

If Mary was the replica of her mother, than Edith was a Crawley, in looks at least, through and through. Her wispy golden locks were fine and sparse around her head, her hazel eyes staring up from a long face. Mary had taken her time coming into the world but Edith had blazed in. He still recalled the frenzy they had been thrown into, the child coming a month early and almost arriving before the doctor. She had been so tiny and fragile looking and he had spent many worried nights wondering if she would have the stamina to survive those first few months. But his wife was determined enough for all of them and spent countless hours with the baby, feeding her, cuddling her close and under her vigilant eyes baby Edith was thriving. The chubby little arms she reached up to him were a testament to her own strong will.

"Don't fret Robert. There will come a time in the not so distant future when Mary and I will butt heads at every turn, and then you will be her knight in shining armor against her wicked Mama. It happens to every mother and daughter. She'll hate me from the time she is sixteen until the time she has her first child. And then she'll see how hard it is to be a mother and she'll take pity on hers." Cora smiled at him and patted his arm.

"Who could possibly hate you?" Robert asked, cupping the back of his wife's neck gently and bringing her toward him for another kiss. He felt her smile against his lips.

Their moment was interrupted by Mary running back to their picnic, shouting, "Cake, cake!"

"I think that we ought to cut it before this ends in tears." Cora said and Robert handed Edith to his wife before obliging their oldest daughter and slicing into the chocolate confection.

Before long, Mary's dress, hands and lower face were covered in crumbs and her eyes were starting to droop, the sugar coupled with the excitement of the day making her sleepy. She laid her head on her mother's lap, burrowing down into the many folds of her skirt. Cora's hand automatically went to the child's head as she stroked her hair absently, soothing Mary closer to sleep. Robert took a moment to revel in the warmth of his young family before waving to the footman standing off in the distance.

"Could you please deliver Lady Mary to Nanny? I think it's time for a washing and a nap." The little girl protested mildly when the young man picked her up and carried her away from her parents. Edith slept peacefully in her mother's arms while Robert fed Cora pieces of birthday cake.

Cora titled her head and furrowed her brow at Robert. His eyes had become unfocused and he gazed in the direction of the house. "What is it?" she asked quietly.

Robert shook himself and turned back to her. "I was just thinking that in the almost three years we've been married, this is the first time that we've been at Downton by ourselves for more than a night."

"Hmmm. I hadn't thought of it." Cora mused. Her mother and father in law were in London for the season and were due back any day now. "It has been a nice respite, no disrespect to your parents, of course."

"It has! It just reminds me that someday the responsibility of it will be all ours." Robert said. The thought made him nervous and he changed the subject. "So, do you feel any older Lady Downton now that you've reached the ripe old age of twenty-four!"

Cora swatted at Robert playfully. "I prefer the word mature rather than old, thank you very much!"

Robert grew serious. "Are you happy?"

"Of course Robert! Why wouldn't I be?" Cora asked in confusion.

"I just want to make sure. I know I was a little dense in the beginning…" Robert trailed off.

Cora smirked at him before turning and leaning back, prompting him to fold his arms around her, holding her and the baby securely to his chest.

"Robert, we were young and newly married and just learning about each other. It's natural that there would be a bumpy start. Are YOU happy?" Cora inquired, looking behind to see his face.

"Utterly." He punctuated his statement with a kiss to her neck. "Insanely." Another kiss. "Desperately." This kiss landed on her earlobe and he nipped it teasingly causing her to startle and gasp before elbowing him in the ribs.

"Behave!" Cora commanded.

"Wait until I show you your real birthday present." Robert growled into her ear, taking one last nibble.

August 1892

Robert swayed in rhythm with the carriage as it bumped along the coastal road. The smell of salt water mixed with the fragrance of wisteria and he watched Cora close her eyes and inhale deeply, a small smile turning up her lips. The gentle breeze made the hot August sun tolerable but still Robert could feel the beads of sweat pooling under his collar. There wasn't a cloud in the bright blue sky and Robert wondered how Cora had managed to adapt to the muted greys of England after growing up in so much color. The men and women strolling on what he was told was Bellevue Avenue were all dressed with the month in mind; their clothing made of light fabric and pastel colors. It was a stark contrast to his and Cora's, having packed only their mourning attire.

Reaching across the seat, Robert took Cora's hand in his and traced the delicate bones of her knuckles. She had been holding up well since receiving the news of her father's grave condition. They had booked passage to America immediately but were greeted when they docked in Newport by the news of his death while they crossed the Atlantic. She had cried then and allowed him to comfort her, desperately having hoped to say goodbye.

The funeral had been a large affair, attended by many of the same men and women that he had seen at their wedding. His mother in law had infused the day with her usual dramatic flair, animatedly welcoming friends and sharing anecdotes, her snorting laughter heard from across the back patio where something of a cocktail party had been thrown together after the burial. Robert stayed close to Cora, who remained quiet most of the day, her own grief much more sedate than her eccentric mother's.

The sun was falling in the sky, casting pinks and oranges over the ocean. Harold and some of the younger folk still lingered on the back lawn, eating and drinking and trading stories of their conquests. Robert had momentarily left Cora, offering to retrieve her shawl as the ocean breeze picked up. Cora remained removed from the others, not able to match the lightness of their feelings just yet. She still couldn't quite believe that her father was gone. Though she hadn't seen him since her wedding, he had always been a man that loved writing and receiving letters and many had crossed the Atlantic between the two. He sometimes would send a telegram, out of the blue, consisting of little but a few words but it would remind her that she was never far from his thoughts. Cora's father understood her in a way that her mother never would. Like her, he was softer, quieter, a dreamer. Martha had always been the boisterous pragmatist and a little hardened. Her abrasive nature frightened Cora as a child and she naturally felt safer under the adoring, gentle eyes of her father. Thinking of her father, it struck Cora how similar Robert was to him. It was no wonder that when she met her future husband, she was instantly drawn to him.

Cora's musings were interrupted by the approach of footsteps. Expecting Robert, she looked up, surprised to see a woman's face instead of his. It took her a moment before she realized it was William's mother, Mrs Hastings. She stood immediately, feeling her heart quicken. She hadn't seen the woman since William's death.

"Cora, how wonderful to see you! I only wish it were under better circumstances, of course." The older woman took her into an embrace and affectionately patted her back before releasing her.

Robert walked toward his wife, watching the older woman approach her, saying her name with intimacy. It still took him a moment when people addressed her so informally, his first inclination to reprimand them. With him, they stumbled around his title but didn't even try with her. In this world, she was simply Cora, unless Martha was around, and then she would be the one to remind everyone they were in the presence of a Lady.

Cora turned to him, the smile on her lips puzzlingly strained. "Mrs. Hastings, this is my husband, Lord Downton. Robert, this is Mrs Hastings."

"I still expect to see a young girl with ribbons and braids trailing behind her as she runs from Harold and William." Mrs Hastings said fondly. "And here you are, so lovely and grown up! I hope you are taking good care of our Cora, Lord Downton." The woman's expression changed as she grew wistful.

Standing straighter, Robert's voice was strong with conviction. "I make it my duty to, Mrs Hastings."

The older woman's serious face paused on him for a moment before placing a feather light kiss on Cora's cheek. "I must be getting home dear. It was so nice seeing you. And to meet you Lord Downton."

After watching the woman walk into the house, Cora put her arm in the crook of Robert's and steered him off the patio and down the large expanse of green lawn that led to the ocean. She looked straight ahead, deep in thought. Cora, usually so expressive in times of merriment or anger, had a habit of turning inward when unhappy or upset. He remained close to offer a brief caress or a gentle word, so that she remembered she was not alone.

"We grew up with the Hastings," she said as they continued to stroll slowly. "Mr Hastings was the general manager in my father's first store and his wife has been friends with my mother since they were young women."

"I should have peppered her with more questions." Robert said jokingly, hoping to get a smile from his wife. "I rather enjoyed the image of you as a wild child running with her hair in the breeze."

Cora shook her head before grinning at him. " I bet you did." She grew serious again. "We spent many summers with the Hastings. They had three children close in age to Harold and myself. William was their oldest son and I had quite a crush on him as a girl…."

"Oh?" Robert's voice cracked a little and he coughed to recover it. "And did he return your feelings?"

They had reached the ornately carved stone wall that separated the property from the churning water below. Two urns at the start and end of the wall held brightly colored hydrangeas, whose scent reached them as they stood staring out over the sea. The sun just kissed the horizon, moments away from starting its descent into the ocean. Sail boats could still be seen undulating peacefully in the distance. Robert loved Downton as though it were a living member of the family, but he wondered, standing amidst the summer beauty of the Levinson home, if Cora didn't long for this place more than she let on. He wouldn't have blamed her.

"He did." Cora's voice broke him from his thoughts. "There was a time when I was sure I would be Mrs William Hastings."

Robert kept his face neutral. He disliked the possessiveness he felt over Cora and her affections. She was beautiful after all and there had been a whole life she had led before meeting him. His mind wandered to Julia and he knew he had no right to feel jealous.

"What changed?" Robert inquired, not sure he really wanted to know the answer.

"He died." She stated simply.

Robert instinctively touched his hand to the small of her back. "I'm so sorry."

Cora shook herself and turned to face him, her smile slightly melancholy but her eyes wide and brilliant. "I am too. He was a good person. But I was meant to be with you and for that I've never been sorry."

Robert had to restrain himself from pulling her to his chest as she stood on tiptoe and pressed a chaste kiss onto his lips.

"I miss the girls. And Downton. Do you think it will be a great hassle to move our passage to tomorrow?" Cora's voice was strong and eager.

Robert smiled widely at her. "I think we can manage it. But what about your mother? Won't she be disappointed?"

Cora rolled her eyes. "She'll get over it."