"S.B?" Carson asked after Robert filled him in on the receipt he found in the library and removed his shoes.

"That's what it said. I think they're initials but there's no-one with those in Burke's and I don't know where else to look for a name. Maybe London, if I tell Murray that I'm trying to find a friend's cousin he might help... but the risk of him letting something slip to Papa is too great and I'm not prepared to take that chance."

"Don't worry, we'll think of something. But enough of business, tell me of your marriage! I haven't had the chance to congratulate you yet. How is our new Lady Downton fitting in?"

Robert smiled and removed his jacket and shoes, starting to stretch. "She's doing brilliantly. Mama isn't helping by giving both of us the silent treatment but it's better than her constantly putting Cora down. I'm two days married and I've already lied to her, you know? I told her that she should spend some time with her parents before they leave on Monday so I could come here. I know I can't tell her about our friendship, but a part of me feels so guilty when she keeps thanking me for 'always thinking of her' and she wants to know what's been bothering me lately. She knows bits of what my father has done but not all, I haven't told her about Rookwood or S.B. But other than the whole cloak and dagger side to it; married is life is fantastic and I would highly recommend it."

Carson ignored the young Lord's wagging eyebrows and replied in a serious tone, "you can't tell her bits and pieces Robert, it's all or nothing with these kind of things. Eventually she'll ask where you go and what you do and suddenly you'll be drowning in all the lies. You don't need to protect her from the 'bad men' she's a big girl now; after all, she married you didn't she?"

"Well, someone's feeling especially witty today, aren't they? Fine, if she asks me again then I'll tell her, now can we please start?"

"Well, since you said please... m'Lord." Without warning, Carson's right fist flew straight for Robert's nose but he caught it just in time, moving out-of-the-way and punching Carson's exposed right flank. Charles retaliated by weakly elbowing his employers nose but Robert ducked and rolled away from any further attack.

"You're lucky that wasn't hard, or it would have been difficult to explain why my nose was broken to my wife."

Carson ignored the comment and caught Robert's leg mid-kick, twisting it and showing the young Lord that no matter how much practice he gets in; he could never beat a man who grew up on the stage.

"I wish you'd tell me what's bothering you,"

"I told you, it's nothing." Robert's body and pride were sore after his beating from Carson before dinner, all he wanted was to stretch and have a soak but how could he explain that to Cora? She would wonder about his valet's absence, about why he was doing peculiar exercises, about everything and anything. It was strange having someone in his life that genuinely worried for him and cared for him. On one hand it was a pleasant feeling but on the other it all just served to make him even more stressed.

"Why are you lying to me?"

At first Robert wanted to shout indignantly with anger and storm out of bed, so he opened his mouth to do just that, but one look at her crushed face made him realise that what Carson had said was true. Cora was not a child and can handle the truth, but feeding her tidbits will not be enough; it's all or nothing. Tears balanced precariously on her lids and her brow furrowed at the thought that he would intentionally keep something from her. This young woman cared for him deeply and he was hurting her.

"Oh, Cora." Robert dropped his book and reached over to wipe her tears away, "I'm sorry that I'm keeping things from you and don't really have a fair reason for doing it but I hope you can forgive me."

She let out a deep breath through her nose and looked at him with a new resilience in her eyes, "if you're sorry then tell me! Are you having an affair?"

Robert grabbed her face and kissed her gently before whispering across her lips, "it's my father. I think I'm close to finding out about why he lost the money and I didn't want to worry you. But I've hit a brick wall recently and I'm thinking of a way around it which is why I've been so distracted lately." He kissed her again with a bit more force, "I am not having an affair. We've been married for two days and I could not be any happier with how close we've become or how easily we fit together."

"Show me." Cora reached up and dragged his face closer to her own, "show me how happy you are with me." When their lips met for a third time the young woman wasted no time in pushing her tongue into his mouth, with a desperation that only love-starved women could possibly understand. She wanted to be reminded that he still thought of her as desirable, that he would always come back to her bed at the end of every day. She wanted to have control over something in her otherwise chaotic life. Her parents were leaving in two days, her mother in law avoided her like the plague and her husband was keeping secrets from her after being wed for only 48 hours. All of these emotions were bubbling inside of her, screaming to get out, to do something with all of the excess negative energy.

She didn't realise it when she swung her right leg to straddle Robert's groin.

Robert broke their heated kiss in surprise as Cora began to take more control than she ever displayed in the bedroom and rocked her hips against his while sucking on the delicate skin of his neck. They had only had sex twice before, but both times involved a lot of talking or reassuring before-hand, with Robert on top. But it seemed that the timid cub was gone and a powerful lioness had emerged to take what she wanted. Robert grinned and pulled her nightgown over her head, moaning when he saw that she wasn't wearing undergarments, and pulling her flush against him as he lied down against the bed.

She seemed to become aware of her dominating position as he thrusted up, rubbing against her while still clothed. He felt her stop unbuttoning his shirt and her body slowly became rigid, filling with tension. "Don't stop," he managed to croak in a voice that he knew she loved. "For the love of God; do not stop."

Her decision made, she bent down to lightly kiss his chest and finish the task of removing his clothes. If this is what it felt like to be loved by a woman, than Robert had absolutely no problem with letting her be in control.

"You look awfully cheery this morning, Robert."

"Enough of that talk, Rosamund. One of these days that mouth of yours will get you into trouble."

"I don't know what you mean, Papa. I'm merely concerned or my darling brother's happiness." She smiled broadly and turned to the young Lord, "so did you sleep well?"

"Rosamund!" Patrick berated his daughter without lowering the newspaper but she only rolled her eyes in response.

"Any exciting plans for the day, dear brother?"

"None that include you," he responded in a sickly sweet voice.

"Oh, trust me. I really don't want to be involve in those sort of plans."

"That's it." Lord Grantham pushed out his chair and strode towards the door, grumbling about the library and daughters taking after their mothers.

Mr Levinson laughed, "he really needs to find his sense of humor."

"Haven't you heard? He never had one to find in the first place, much like our Robert here."

"Yes, well, as invigorating as this breakfast conversation was, I must check in with a farmer to see if he's meeting his annual quota. Cora asked me to send you up to her after your breakfast, Sir." Robert was nearly out the door when his father-in-law shouted back.

"I thought we talked about this dear boy, call me Isidore!"

"Let me get this straight, Pumpkin. Your husband is looking for someone who is probably a most undesirable individual because said individual is working for someone who has blackmailed Patrick?"

"Stop calling me pumpkin and yes, that's about it."

"I will call you Pumpkin when you are an old frail woman with twenty kids and forty grandchildren, so I have no intentions of stopping now."

"I'm so happy to know that you'll outlive us all." Cora rolled her eyes in exasperation, missing the dark shadow that crossed her father's face.

"I've told you, Pumpkin, I'm invincible." Isidore sighed and sat down at the end of her huge bed, placing a hand on her knee and switching his tone from playful to serious, "you do know what will happen if I do what you ask?"

"Yes." His daughter's voice was strong but obviously practiced, she had apparently given this some thought.

"Robert isn't stupid, Cora, he will ask questions and you need to be prepared to answer them."

The use of her real name reminded Cora how much this subject hurt her father and grabbed his hand as a sign of comfort. "I don't mind him knowing about you Poppa, I'm not ashamed of your past and you shouldn't be either. In fact, I think that any questions Robert might have should be answered by you. It's your story to tell Poppa, not mine."

Isidore smiled weakly and kissed his daughter's hand before nodding solemnly and walking out of the room.

Robert was walking up the gravel drive as Mr Levinson emerged from the front doors wearing a charcoal parka with real black, American bear fur at the collar and cuffs.

"Ah, Robert just the man I wanted to see! Let's go for a stroll through the gardens shall we? Gravel does awful things to Italian leather, you know." Isidore looked down at his pristine shoes and grimaced lightly before looking back at Robert. The loud American strolled leisurely towards his son-in-law and spoke quietly when he finally reached him; never breaking his stride, "follow me."

Robert's brow creased and his head swiveled around to the slowly retreating back of his father-in-law with confusion. Since when did Americans do subtlety? He took five seconds before deciding to follow the gaudily dressed man deeper into Downton's estate, assuming it was one of those 'hurt my princess and I'll hunt you down' sort of talks.

The young Lord slowed his stride as they approached the tree next to bench, but Mr Levinson continued to walk ahead towards the woods near the back of the estate. The older man only turned around to face Robert when they were beneath the cover of trees and out of view from the main house.

Robert smiled and tilted his head toward him, "well this is all very cloak and dagger, I must say."

"For good reason, my boy." Isidore avoided his gaze and took a deep breath before continuing, "Cora told me about your father, Robert."

"I see; what did she say?"

"Don't get so defensive, she had good reason to go to me because, well I can help you find the man you're looking for."

This caught the young Lord's attention and he looked at Mr Levinson with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to continue.

"You see, my father was also a man with few morals. In fact, one could say he didn't have any morals at all. His real name was Frederick Bailey and I never knew him personally. My mother told me that he was a soldier who died overseas called Andrew Levinson, apparently she called him 'Andy', which was something that always stuck with me. You have to understand Robert, we were very poor and the thought that my father was a good and brave man kept me going on the cold, food-less nights... My mother died around the time when I made my fortune and married Martha, it was also the first time I got a letter from Frederick Bailey."

"You don't have to tell me this, Si- Isidore, if you don't want to."

"I would rather you heard it from me, if you don't mind. Just, let me finish."

"Of course, I apologise."

"At first, I didn't know who this man was and why he was demanding money in exchange for his silence... but I soon found out. Apparently my climbing of the ladder of success was quite the story and even made its way to England, where Mr Bailey heard of it. When I found out he was my father I knew there was more to the story than what my mother told me. So I went to England with my new wife and together we went searching for dear old dad. I was in London when I met a man who could use certain skills to find people for a sum of money. Safe to say he found Frederick and got his money, if you want to hire him then I suggest you start in O' Flanagan's, an Irish public house in London."

"Thank you, Isidore, this information is much appreciated." The older man walked away but stopped when Robert spoke again, " but I have a question."

Mr Levinson still didn't turn around when he answered, "yes?"

"Why did she lie? Your mother I mean, when she talked about our father?"

Isidore did not turn to face him but Robert heard him take in a deep breath before continuing. "She was holidaying with her older brother, Andy in Brighton when she was attacked. Andrew fought for her safety but was over-powered and they murdered him. My mother was taken and raped repeatedly, a fact which Freddie loved to shout at me when we finally met years later. From what I gather, he became obsessed and fancied himself in love with her, which is how she was able to escape on a ship headed for America with her unborn baby. He never knew she was pregnant but never forgot her name or her face, as soon as he saw the newspaper article about me, he just knew.

"I don't blame her for lying to me about my father, it supports my firm belief that ignorance is bliss. My father was a cruel and twisted man, forcing a woman to witness her brother's death and borne a child she never wanted but loved wholeheartedly. It must have been so hard for her to love me, a bastard child who looked exactly like the monster who raped her."

Isidore's voice was thick with years of emotion and Robert didn't know what to say other than, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it has nothing to do with you and everything with how you will treat my little girl when I'm gone. Promise me you'll look after her? You'll try to show her kindness if not love?"

"I promise, but it's not forever, Sir. We'll travel to see you and you can always come back to Downton whenever you please."

Isidore smiled like he knew something that Robert didn't and nodded once firmly before turning towards the house and walking stiffly away.

The carriage carrying his wife's parents could still be heard while they stood on Downton's steps.

"Tea, anyone? Now that we have our library back to ourselves?" Lady Grantham's shrill voice bounced through Robert's skull but he remained holding Cora's hand outside, long after everyone returned inside in the house for tea.

"Are you alright, Cora?"

She nodded, still looking at the gates which the carriage passed through 10 minutes earlier.

"Cora?"

"I'm fine, Robert, just tired. Very tired."

"Hey," he touched her chin with his index finer and tilted her face towards his own. "I was thinking that we could go to London this weekend; see a show, have a nice dinner, get away from Downton and my mother for a few days. We never did have a honeymoon and I think this might be a way to raise our spirits."

Tears clouded her vision but she would not let them fall in front of him and closed her eyes against the dark tenderness of his gaze. "Do you mean that?" Her voice almost sounded strong after a deep breath.

He kissed her eyelids with a gentleness only she would ever receive from him and wrapped his solid arms around her trembling form, "every word."

The young and heart-broken Viscountess finally allowed her tears to fall on the thick brown fabric of her husband's suit as he cradled her body within a protective cage, whispering soft promises of an early night and a weekend away.

Four Days Later.

"Thank you for helping me pack Charles but it really wasn't necessary, it's only two nights."

"I wanted to run through the plan one last time."

"Yes well; the show is tonight, after dinner at eight o'clock. Saturday, I will tell Cora exactly where I am going and head to O' Flanagan's pub to look for the man with 'skills' to hire him to find S.B. Finally, Sunday I will return here and report all to you, my king." The young Lord teased.

"Your weak attempts at being witty are starting to get tiresome Robert." Carson shook his head but it was futile against Robert's broad grin.

"You know you love me, really!"

"I've told you m'Lord! I don't allow myself to be tempted into wicked ways with married men!"

Robert made a disgusted face and closed the case on his bed before heading to the door, "did you have to make it weird?"

"You're the one who mentioned love." Carson taunted in a sing-song voice and followed him into the corridor before disappearing through a servants' stairwell. Robert rolled his eyes and wondered what the hotel would be like as he met Cora outside and said goodbye to his family.

"Goodbye, brother dear. Look after each other and make sure to have some fun." Rosamund lightly kissed his cheek and winked at him knowingly.

"Where is Mama?" Robert decided to ignore his sister's irritating comment.

"She slept out and is only having breakfast now," Rosamund's smile faltered slightly. "Don't worry, she'll come around to the both of you eventually. But until then, ye should both choose to bask in the rarely given silence."

"But I fear she won't be silent for much longer and that's the problem," Robert sighed and swung into the carriage next to his wife.

"Farewell Rosamund, try not to burn the house down in my absence; I'm rather fond of this pile of bricks!"

"Well, that's reason enough for me to knock it down, dearest brother, just to see your face fall!"

Cora grabbed his hand as the horses started to trot down the drive, "must ye torment each other?"

Robert tilted his face towards hers with a devilish grin plastering his features, "Downton would be a very boring place if Rosamund and I stopped playing petty games of torment."

"Hmm. Tell me again of our plans." She placed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes in peace.

"Well, after the train arrives in London we will head to Grantham House where our servants may unpack while we have luncheon. Then we shall walk around the city before getting ready for dinner. After dinner we shall head to the Gaiety for 'Faust up to date' and after that," He bent his head and whispered in her ear, "the night is ours."

"Oh, Robert that was fabulous! The sets, the costumes. Oh, the singing!"

"I agree wholeheartedly my dear, especially with your sentiments on the costumes." Robert whispered so as not to be heard by the other people queuing to get their coats in the foyer and leave the Gaiety.

Cora turned and slapped him lightly on the chest, "don't be so crude!"

"I'm deadly serious. You don't think one could buy one of those costumes, do you?"

"Probably, but I wouldn't know the first place to start looking for a burlesque dress."

"Pity; I would go through great lengths to see you in frills and a short skirt."

Cora rolled her eyes and stretched to look over the crowd. "I never would have thought that people would be going out so close to a holiday."

Robert snorted. "Halloween is hardly a holiday, Cora."

She shook her head and looked towards him in mock disgust, "I still cannot believe that you don't celebrate Halloween, it was such a big part of my childhood that it just doesn't make sense to me."

"Well, it's largely a Christian holiday that originated in Ireland so it makes perfect sense for an English aristocrat like myself to not partake in the festivities. I don't even know what it involves being honest, I've lived in Downton my whole life so I never even saw glimpses of the village children tricking."

Cora bit her lip trying to contain a smile and raised an eyebrow, "do you mean 'trick-or-treating'?"

Robert's lips tilted upwards as he realised his mistake and nodded, "as I said; I don't really know what it involves."

"It's full of traditions! I lived in Cincinnati all my life in a townhouse so I was 'tricking' every year. One of the kitchen maids was Irish and she told me about ghost stories and traditions in her household, like bobbing for apples. I remember trying to convince Poppa to let me dive for apples in a bucket with Harold, I think he was just happy that I wanted to play and not do needlepoint like the other 'good little girls'. He even joined us in the game, but afterwards Mother was not at all impressed because the three of us got the flu!"

Robert laughed imagining his wife as a small girl dangling in a bucket trying to catch apples with her mouth and looked at her with a baffled expression, "every day, I find out something that changes everything I thought I knew about you, something exciting and unexpected."

"Something pleasant, I hope."

"Everything about you is pleasant."

Cora suddenly grabbed his forearm in a tight grip, stopping him from moving forward in the line.

"Cora, what is it?"

"Lord Rookwood is coming this way."

"What? Oh, great, that's all we need. Don't mention my father." Cora nodded and plastered a smile on her face as Rookwood greeted them.

"Lord and Lady Downton! What a surprise to see the two of you here in London."

"Good evening, Lord Rookwood. We decided to catch a show after Cora's parents left. What's your excuse?" Robert smiled falsely but Rookwood was too busy looking at Cora to notice the look of disdain on the young Lord's face.

"Oh I was always a sucker for French adaptions and long legs in short skirts. No better way to spend a Friday night, eh? Are you in London for long?"

Cora felt Robert tense under her hand and decided to answer, lest he gave the game away, "we're leaving Sunday, after Halloween."

Rookwood's eyes lit up in interest and his upper body seemed to lean further towards her, "ah, yes, all Hallow's eve falls on the 'morrow, doesn't it? Tell me, shall you be dressing up?"

Robert's eyes flashed dangerously as the disgusting leech tried to flirt with his wife. The repulsing thoughts circling in Rookwood's head was obvious to anyone with eyes and Robert was not impressed. There's nothing so ill-bred as trying to steal another man's wife.

"I usually don't partake in something so childish as putting on a mask to beg for sweeties, but of course I don't judge if dressing up is something you like to do, m'Lord."

Robert blinked in surprise as Cora managed to turn his title into an insult and noticed that they were next in line for their coats. Although the older man wasn't nearly as amused, "why you little-"

"Of course, one could say that you don't need to put on a mask to be scary. One could even suggest that your visage is quite frightening the way it is now, Lord Rookwood." She smoothly interrupted.

His face is actually quite ugly like that, mused Robert as he handed a slip of paper with their seat number to the lad at the desk for their coats.

Rookwood's face had gone a violent purple, obviously trying to contain himself from making a scene and his mouth was opening and closing rhythmically.

"Here y'are, Lord Downton. Two coats, private Grantham box number 3."

"Thank you. Come along, Cora, the car will be waiting. Goodbye Lord Rookwood!" Robert took their two coats and steered Cora towards the door, leaving Rookwood firmly in his place with his mouth hanging open and his face changing colors.

Robert erupted in laughter as soon as their coats were on and they were walking away from the Gaiety.

"Did you see his face? Oh, my dear, that was brilliant, you were brilliant! I must admit, I thought I was going to punch the foul git for a moment but then you swooped in like a warrior, brandishing a sword of wit. My very own Boadicea."

She was silent as he praised her and he stopped walking to hold her face within his palms, feeling a wetness on her cheeks; she was crying.

"Oh, Robert, I shouldn't have done that! Your mother will hear about it no doubt and kill me for daring to defend myself. I can hear her now, 'I told you Patrick, but what can we expect from an American.' But I couldn't just stand there when we was looking at me like a piece of meat from the butcher's, blatantly staring at my chest!"

"Ssh, my darling, it's okay, he deserved it. Mama won't say anything, if she does then I'll deal with her. I promise." He frowned and brought her body close to his own, folding her within his strong arms and blocking out the rest of the world, not realising that that was the first time he called her anything other than 'dear' "Ssh, it's okay."

"Robert?" She turned her head into his neck and inhaled the sweet musky smell of spearmint and tobacco. "Yes?"

"His face was rather funny wasn't it?"

He laughed in response and placed a kiss on her head before breaking away and urging her to walk on. They decided to walk home rather than use the car before going to the show but now he was regretting that decision. A comfortable silence reigned between them until Robert heard the distinct sound of muffled footsteps starting behind them. He loosened his grip on Cora's arm, muttering something about a lace and bent down to fiddle with his shoe while discretely looking behind his back. Seeing no-one, he straightened and carried on but the click-click of men's boots started up again, causing Robert to become paranoid and look behind him for a second time, catching a glimpse of a dirty trench coat sweeping into a side-alley. Robert frowned, listening to the steps following them and continued to walk until Grantham House came into view about fifty meters away.

"Oh, no!" He groaned and patted his pockets in mock irritation, "I left my wallet at the Gaiety."

"Really? Never mind, let's go back and check for it, it's not far."

"No! I mean, it's very cold and I'll be quicker by myself, you carry on to the house, I'll be back in fifteen minutes." He kissed her cheek and gently pushed her towards the house.

"Alright, but hurry back."

"Always."

He watched her climb the front steps of the townhouse before swiftly pivoting and going back the way they came. The night was silent now and Robert walked on the balls of his feet to avoid making any sounds. As he approached another side alley, the scent of cheap cigarette smoke wafted towards him, betraying his stalker's hiding place. The young Lord crept towards the garbage bin at the start of the alley, tensing his muscles and internally reviewing fighting sessions with Carson. He inhaled deeply and took a large step, blocking the entrance of the alley with his body, staring into the darkness.

A flare of bright orange illuminated the pitch black as a man in a long dirty trench coat took a breath from his cigarette, if he was surprised to see Robert there, he didn't show it. The man was tall but not taller than Robert and a bit bulkier in size, his tan coloured hat covered his head, but not his eyes which appeared to be black or a very dark brown.

When it became clear that he wasn't going to speak, Robert clenched his fist and took the initiative, "who are you?"

The man paused to take another drag and removed his hat, revealing short black hair that was greased back against his head. "Calm down ol' boy, what are you gonna do? Kill me?"

Robert didn't answer but took another step forward showing his stony face. A face that gave nothing away but took everything the world had to offer. This look screamed of a man who would do whatever he had to do, to get something he wanted.

"I'm a friend of Mr Levinson's, he said you needed to find someone?" The man didn't seem phased by Robert's look even though he answered the question and extinguished the cigarette. "I thought I'd save you the trouble of going to O' Flanagan's; didn't seem like your kinda place."

"How kind of you."

The other man raised his eyebrow but otherwise ignored Robert's taunt. "Who are you looking for?"

"I don't know his name."

"That's fine but just so you know, that's extra. Hell of a lot of work, finding a man without a name."

"I don't care how much it costs, I need to find him. His initials are S.B and he stayed at the club by Leicester square, in the Grantham suite. He may also be a friend of Lord Rookwood's, if that helps."

"That helps a lot, thank you. I'll be in touch before you leave on Sunday." He put his hat back on and waited for Robert to step out-of-the-way.

"How did y- never mind, I don't want to know. But I do have one more question."

"Yes?"

"What is your name?"

The man opened his mouth to respond but quickly snapped it shut again and pushed Robert into the stone wall before the young Lord even realised that there was someone else behind him.

He turned around in time to see what appeared to be a homeless man wielding a knife, lunging for the man that pushed him out of the way. Robert was still for another second, watching as the man grabbed his attacker's wrist holding the knife and twisted it in an angle that no bone should ever be subjected to. The homeless man screamed in pain and dropped the knife on the cobbled street, generating a sickening screech of metal on stone.

Robert grabbed the bum's collar when the man let his wrist go and pushed him violently against the wall.

"Who are you!?" Robert detested being so close to a man who smelt of stale beer and urine but he needed answers and this couldn't be a coincidence.

"Lemme go, ya prick!" Spittle from the man's toothless mouth flew onto Robert's face and he responded by sending a right hook into the bum's jaw.

"Ah! Wha' was tha' for!?"

"For not answering my question."

"Alri', this guy dressed all fancy and lookin' kinda pissed comes up t' me and offers 50 pounds to teach ya a lessun!"

"Why me?" Robert growled and pushed him against the wall when he started to struggle.

"Well, I don' fuckin' know! Says ya needa learn how t' keepa bitch on a leash. S'maybe ya gal pissed 'im off!"

"Rookwood," the young Lord muttered under his breath.

"Wha' was tha' posh boy?"

Robert narrowed his eyes and threw the bum on the floor, who screamed when he landed on his broken wrist. "You tell whomever hired you that if he wants to teach me a lesson then he can teach it himself!"

Robert sighed and turned to look at the man that had the cigarette, who was staring at him with raised eyebrows. Robert never saw the bum pick up the knife with his bad hand and walk towards the young Lord's back.

"Downton, look out!"

The man pushed Robert away for a second time that night and kicked the bum hard in the face, knocking him out.

Robert regained his balance and stared at the street rat sprawled out in the dirty alley. "Is he dead?"

"Just unconscious, I think. You sure have a lot of enemies for a 'posh boy'."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Don't be; this is officially my favourite case now." The man grinned and propped the bum against the wall so it looked like he was sleeping.

"What do you exactly anyway?" Robert asked.

"I'm sort of like a P.I but in a slightly illegal way seeing as I'm not a P.I."

"Ah, well that cleared up lots of questions." Robert replied, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "And you drop the formalities by the way, if you're going to doing some slightly illegal things for me then you can call me by my given name." He extended his hand out to the man and smiled slightly, "Robert Crawley."

The other man looked at his hand for second and then towards Robert who was still dressed in white tie; probably deciding whether or not the young Lord was tricking him. He nodded once and clasped Robert's hand with his own, "pleased to meet you, Robert Crawley. I'm John Bates."

A/N: Thank you so much to all who have taken an interest in this story and reviewed! The show they go to is a French burlesque play called Faust up to date that premiered in the Gaiety theater on the 30th of October 1888, in case ye were wondering about why they were talking about Halloween and stuff.