It was the sound of the drapes being pulled open that woke her. She pulled in a deep breath and stretched the muscles in her back; peeking through a haze of dark lashes and midnight hair. She pulled her sheet closer as the morning sun poured into the room.

"Good morning, milady," her maid greeted her briskly.

Milady, Cora repeated silently and grinned into her pillow, in spite of herself, at the foreign title that was now her own. She ran her fingers across her cheekbone, pulling near her eye and craned her neck to see her maid.

"I am so sorry to wake you, but Lord Downton was down at breakfast and I thought perhaps…"

"Oh," Cora gruffly interrupted, turning her face from her maid. She suddenly felt embarrassed as the image of Robert fleeing from her room stung her instantly at the sound of his name.

Her maid paused. "Er…yes, milady. I thought perhaps you'd like to breakfast now and then be dressed. He was with his Lordship, though I believe her Ladyship and Lady Rosamund are down now as well."

Cora exhaled into her pillow. "Oh, God."

Her maid stopped in front of her bed and gave her a small smile. "Well, he did seem to be smiling more than usual."

Cora felt her face grow hot and a smile involuntarily spread across her lips.

"I'll be back up with your tray, milady," she added softly before leaving.

Cora turned to her stomach and looked forward toward the headboard, her smile staining her mouth. Biting her bottom lip, she pushed some of her dark tresses out of her face and brushed them back with her hand. So maybe he did like me, she thought.

After rushing through her breakfast, Cora was dressed in a deep blue satin dress, adorned with small mother of pearl buttons at the wrists and up the forearms. She smoothed the white lace at her collar in the mirror and tucked a stray curl back into its place. She looked her reflection over and decided, with a nod, she looked very much like a viscount's wife and hoped that Robert would think so too.

She found her way to the stairs and descended them slowly, taking in all of the surroundings she had seen only a couple of times before. The first time, she had come for a week when Robert invited her with her mother. It had been at the close of the summer season of last year and she had "foolishly", as her mother put it, accepted the offer over an exclusive dinner party in London. It was at the end of their stay that he had proposed in the gardens.

She paused at the landing of the stairs to study a large painting of a previous earl. She tilted her head slightly, wondering amusedly if one day her son would have a portrait hanging here.

"Is this an American custom, to sleep until noon the day after your wedding?"

Cora spun and looked down at her mother-in-law. Tall, lean, and lovely, she didn't look at Cora at all and instead pulled a glove onto her hand.

"Lady Grantham," Cora greeted her with some surprise and came down the steps toward her. "No, I mean to say, of course it's not a custom. I've only been admiring all the…"

"Everyone at Downton abides by a schedule," Violet chided, still adjusting her glove, "and since it appears that you are to be at Downton…" at this Violet looked up at Cora and continued with an air of exasperation, "…forever…I suggest you learn your part."

"Oh. You'll help me, then?" Cora appealed sweetly, albeit naively.

Violet let out a small chortle and looked Cora up and down, "One cannot turn a stone into a feather."

Cora pursed her lips and looked down, unsure exactly what that meant or how to respond.

"Ah, what's this? I didn't realize you were down, my dear." Robert's father entered the hall, hat in hand, and smiling warmly at Cora.

"Good morning, Lord Grantham. I apologize for not being down earlier, it's only…"

"Good heavens, girl, no need to apologize! I wasn't expecting you or Robert to come down at all today."

"Oh for goodness sake. There's no need for vulgarity, Patrick," Violet firmly admonished.

Her father-in-law seemed oblivious to the shade of crimson Cora had turned as he took Violet's arm in his own and began to lead her toward the front door. "And suppose you call me Patrick, or better still, Papa!" he threw over his shoulder as he and Violet left toward the carriage. Cora could hear Violet mutter under her breath something about Lady Grantham suiting her just fine.

Feeling a little like she'd prefer to go back upstairs, Cora turned again to move when Robert came through the dining room threshold. To her relief, he smiled when he saw her, though he didn't cross the room.

"So you've said hello to Mama," he jested, raising his eyebrows and nodding toward the door.

Cora laughed politely and lowered her lashes, "Yes, but I must say, she doesn't seem to like me much."

"Ah, that's just Mama. I'm not sure if she likes anyone, really," he laughed too.

Cora grinned again, although she wasn't sure if his statement made her feel any better.

They stood silent for more than a few moments, during which time Cora fumbled through polite conversational pieces in her mind, unsure why it was harder to speak to him now than when they had first met.

"You look very nice," she heard him say lowly.

She brought her eyes up to Robert's and felt a blush spread across her cheeks.

"Thank you." Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum. She wondered if she looked different to him now than before…before last night.

"I feel I need to tell you…" he blurted suddenly and walked across the room until he was inches away from her, so close she could smell the scent of him. Suddenly the memory of his lips against her cheek, the weight of his forehead on her shoulder, and the feel of his skin between her thighs inundated her thoughts.

"I need to tell you…" he repeated in hushed tones and searched her clear cerulean eyes.

Robert leaned in even closer until she could faintly feel his breath on her skin.

"Yes?" she managed.

Cora watched Robert's eyes take in every part of her face and settle on her slightly parted lips. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, she voicelessly pleaded, her chest rising and falling against his.

"I…" at that moment a footman trotted noisily across the floor through to the dining room.

Robert broke away immediately, turning away from her and escaping from the room with such speed that Cora barely had time to react.

"Robert?" she called after him hopefully. The front door slammed shut. She looked around the Great Hall, a room that she felt so unfamiliar in but was now to be part of her home; the emptiness she had felt last night crept into her belly and then her throat, creating a lump there.

Cora began to ascend the stairs, truly wanting to be back in her room now. "If it isn't my dear sister," she heard Rosamund beam from behind her. Cora paused on the stair and shut her eyes, willing herself to turn to face her. She was strolling in from the dining room straight over to Cora. She grasped Cora's hands in her own and squeezed. "I trust you slept well?" she smirked looking up into Cora's, surely tired, face.

Cora nodded absent-mindedly.

"I'm glad," Rosamund drew out the words, obviously hinting at something other than slumber.

Rosamund laced Cora's arm through her own and led her through to the drawing room. "Tell me, sister. What plans have you and my brother, pardon me -your husband, planned today? Is he taking you into the village? A picnic perhaps?"

Cora shook her head no and knitted her brows. My husband doesn't want anything to do with me, she answered silently.

Aside from their meeting in the Great Hall, sitting near one another at dinner, and a few polite walks through the gardens, accompanied by Rosamund, Cora hadn't seen her new husband in three days and nights. They were to leave on their honeymoon tomorrow and the thought of this made her stomach lurch. A month alone with a man who could barely look her in the eyes was a terrifying prospect, especially considering the longing she felt to be near him.

Cora rolled onto her side in bed and hugged the pillow beside her. Thus far married life had been a teasing torture. How unfair it all was, to sit at dinner and be witness to the tender glances between her new in-laws while her newlywed husband could hardly glance her way. She'd caught him staring at her earlier while in the library with his parents and sister. A little shocked, she smiled at him sweetly, praying he'd return the gesture. Instead, as if embarrassed that he was caught, he looked away quickly, back into his book, and cleared his throat. She glanced around, seeing each person independently enjoying his own pursuits. She slowly felt her chest tense up with anger and her eyes begin to burn, threatening tears. She clenched the book lying on her lap tightly, so tightly, in fact, her knuckles turned white. She had given up everything for him: her friends, her home, her money – all for him and his unappreciative family. In a hot blur, she let out a frustrated, "Robert!" threw down her book, and practically ran from the room without making any excuses. On her way out she heard her mother-in-law's voice trickling over the quiet, "I told you, Robert. Marrying that girl was a mistake."

And now, hours later, she found herself curled up in her bed, in a dimly lit room, revisiting her mother-in-law's words over and over in her mind. Her cheeks wet, her nose runny, and her throat sore from crying, she realized that it was the first time in quite a while that she longed for her mother's embrace. This realization brought on another wave of tears and she turned to her back and took a deep breath to calm herself.

After stilling her quivering lip and drawing in calming breaths, she became aware of the soft rain tapping against the windows of her room. Oddly, the sound calmed her even further and she lay still in her bed, eyes closed, focusing on the noise giving her company.

After a moment, however, three small knocks broke the pattern of the rain. She opened her eyes and searched around the room, not entirely convinced that she heard the sound. However, another three knocks drew her eyes to Robert's dressing room door. The door cracked open just a bit, bright light spilling onto her floor and onto the foot of her bed.

She sat up instantly, clutching her sheets and covering her body.

"Oh. I didn't realize…I'll leave you…" he began.

"Yes?" she heard herself welcoming him into her room. She felt like kicking herself.

"I didn't realize you were already asleep. I'm sorry to wake you." He stood awkwardly in the threshold of her room, looking around a little as he spoke. "It's only I was hoping, or rather, would like," he cleared his throat, "That is, I'd like to have a word with you."

Cora's mouth fell slightly agape and she raised her brows, shocked that he was even here in the first place. She consciously checked her expression, though, and pressed her lips together. She looked to Robert and then stared down at the clutched sheet in her hands.

"Oh," she barely heard the sound she intended to make, "of course."

Robert was quiet and even after the invitation he lingered in the doorway for what seemed like an eternity.

"Cora…"

Although barely above a whisper, Cora's heart stopped. The sound of her first name in his mouth was not something she was really used to hearing yet, and every time it happened she felt like she was floating.

"Do you mind?" he asked, almost tenderly.

She glanced over at him and wordlessly shook her head no. He moved into the room, silently closing the doors behind him and sat slowly at the end of the bed. He too stared a little at his hands.

"I realize that you may be a little angry with me," he looked at her and then continued more softly, "and I feel I need to tell you something."

Cora held her breath.

"You see, I am a man of duty. From the time I was just a child, I've had the weight of my father's title on my shoulders. Bedtime stories all seemed to be about 'the little lord' who loved his estate. Funnily enough, the stories seemed to have their effect, and I do. I do very much. I have responsibilities as the future earl and I hold them as the highest priority in my life. My ultimate duty to Downton is to keep it safe…and because of you, I feel like I may have succeeded. So, thank you. I'm grateful, Cora. Really."

She gave him a small sideways grin and exhaled. "I'm glad your Downton is safe, Robert. Truly. I am."

Robert returned the grin and held out his hand to her, asking for her affection. She put her left hand in his and saw the bands on her finger glint in the soft light.

"Our Downton," he whispered, gripping her hand for moment before leaving her again alone in her room.