The house was ornately carved and great, gothic pillars rose up over the entrance commandingly. Two lions were perched on each side of the heavy wooden door baring their teeth at those who came to visit. The battlements were still visible from the Middle Ages and as Robert approached up the gravel driveway on his horse he did a double take. Someone was watching his every move. A servant maybe? He brought his stallion to a stop and the heavy wooden doors of Berkley Castle began to open.

"I didn't believe young Frederick when he said a well dressed gentleman was approaching my door," Tom Berkley's voice boomed out from the depths of his abode. "Well now Robert, it has been a while." Robert dismounted and passed his horses reins over to a stable boy.

"Good afternoon Tom. I heard you left London early this year and thought I would come and see you while I was in the area." Robert stretched out his hand to his old friend and they shook firmly.

"Indeed I am curious. What brings you to my part of the country?" Tom raised his eyebrows at Robert.

"May we continue this conversation in private?" Robert hinted. Tom shot him a suspicious but friendly look and turned around.

"Come into my library my dear fellow," he called over his shoulder. Robert let out a breath and followed Tom into the dark interior.

"I absolutely cannot believe this," Tom chortled as he and Robert sat in chairs opposite each other half an hour later. "Robert Crawley, the high and mighty moral man has taken a lover!" Tom was stealing himself silly with glee.

"Yes, but you know all the particulars. And she isn't just my lover," Robert said, trying desperately to keep his temper at bay. "I will marry her once everything is settled."

"You can't say that my dear chap," Tom said, becoming serious. "What you are trying to undertake carries a lot of uncertainty with it," he stated sagely.

"You are right," Robert conceded. "Which is why it would mean so much to me if you lifted this particular uncertainty off of my shoulders and helped me."

"You haven't actually explained to me what you want me to do."

"Didn't I? Well it is quite simple. Accompany me down to London to Grantham House. Say hello to Mama and Papa; I don't think you have seen them for about three years now right?" Tom nodded, his ears turning slightly red at the memory of his last encounter with them. "Anyway," Robert continued. "We sit down for tea, tell a few made up stories of our holiday and then we decide to head out for another few days due to the good weather." Robert watched his friend carefully. Tom began to absentmindedly massage his temples. It all sounded straightforward enough but when was anything ever straightforward?

Tom returned his attention to Robert, studying him with big, brown eyes. There was a lot of trust between them and the fact that Robert had chosen to come to him with this out of their entire circle of chums was a compliment. He let out a sigh, knowing he wouldn't be at peace with his own conscience if he didn't lend Robert a hand. But he still didn't like the idea of getting involved in such a complicated situation.

"So will you come with me?" Robert pressed him.

Cora sat at the old, unpolished table at Rooksway drinking tea while Miss Lacombe made preparations for her meal that night. She took a sip of the hot liquid she had come to love since her arrival in England and stared out of the window towards the front gate, lost in thought.

Miss Lacombe chanced a glance over to Cora. It pained the young woman to see her mistress so downtrodden. Her complexion was more pale than usual and she had lost the sparkle from her eyes when Lord Downton had left. Cora let out and audible sigh and, realizing that she had been staring, Charlotte Lacombe quickly refocused on the carrots in front of her.

With a heavy heart, Cora drained her cup and set it down back on the saucer. She had brought herself some new embroidery materials when she was in Downton Village the other day but she didn't feel like sewing at all now. Instead, Cora resolved to remain seated at the table despite not having anything to occupy her but her thoughts.

How quickly a situation could disintegrate. She had thought everything was going well and Robert was getting on with finding a way to break her union with John. Now he was goodness knows where trying to find a way to regain control of the situation.

A pang in her heart made Cora even more anxious. He had only been gone a few hours and yet she already missed him with every last fiber of her being. She had read tales of love and the pain distance could cause before but until this day she had never understood just how powerfully it could affect a person, how it could affect her. She yearned for his presence, to hear his voice saying her name. She wanted to feel his touch, to be able to look into his bright blue eyes and tell him how much he meant to her. But it was too late for all of that. She did not know how long he would be away for but she was absolutely certain that she would pine for him until he returned. The white gate with its peeling paint came back into focus, the gate she had returned through to the cottage just that morning, alone.

Robert and Tom stood in the front porch of Grantham House, waiting. After a couple of minutes Oldroyd opened the door and showed them in. Robert and Tom handed their travelling coats and hats to the footmen and headed for the drawing room with Robert in the lead. Stepping into the room, they were met by Violet's cold, penetrating stare.

"Good morning Mama," Robert greeted her as enthusiastically as he could.

"It is a good morning Robert, for you have decided to show your face again. I was having trouble remembering what my son looked like," she informed him pithily.

"Really Mama there is no need to make a scene, especially in front of Viscount Berkley." Tom stepped forward to present himself to the lioness in front of him.

"Lady Grantham, it has been too long," he said with as much warmth as he could muster.

"Or not long enough," Violet returned but allowed him to kiss her hand. Apparently she hadn't forgotten their last meeting either.

"Viscount Berkley and I have been quite busy these last few days Mama," Robert started as he took a seat by the fire and gestured for Tom to follow suit. "We visited some of the estates in the South-East and had quite a marvelous reception at Kent. Lord Rupert and the Marquess of Rochester joined us for that part of the trip," Robert said conversationally.

"And we all bunked down at this old pub near Tunbridge and had an entertaining evening," Tom put in. Violet scowled at him.

"I hope things didn't get too out of hand that night Robert?" she said in a steely tone.

"No, no, your boy kept us all in line," Tom assured her.

"And tell me, did you happen to travel north at all?" Robert noticed how narrowed his mothers eyes had become.

"No, not at all," Robert answered, returning her gaze determinedly.

"Because I received a telegram from Walter saying that you had been to Downton to get some food." Tom's head swiveled from mother to son.

"Ah, I can explain that."

"Please do. I am ever so curious."

"I made a quick trip north right at the start of the trip to see a tenant I am on good terms with," Robert told her, thinking fast. "He was taken ill and one of the villagers' got word to me. I offered to get him some food since he couldn't leave the house to get any himself."

"And who, pray, is the tenant you speak off?" Violet asked, unconvinced. Robert paused. He knew he needed to answer but his mind had suddenly gone blank under his mothers' stoic stare. "Well?"

"Don't upset him Lady Grantham. He cast enough of a shadow over the first couple of days of our traveling," Tom cut in. Violet looked murderous.

"It's alright Tom. His name is Mr Croxton. Papa knows him. He has been fighting a weak chest for years, indeed, I remember him coughing even as a boy." Robert knew that he had an element of truth on his side. His father did know Mr Croxton and he did struggle with his health but Robert knew he would have to see the old man soon after he got back to Cora. Violet watched as Robert's vision appeared to cloud over but just as quickly as it started, her son snapped out of it forcefully. Now was not the right moment to be meditating on his love.

"You see what I mean," Tom said loudly. "Dealing with an upset chum isn't any fun at all."

"Must you speak when you have nothing to say?" Violet groaned, momentarily distracted from her analysis of Robert. Tom shrugged, unabashed by her words.

"Right Tom, shall we get going?" Robert said briskly.

"Wait a minute, just where are you going now?" Violet gaped incredulously.

"Well since the weather is so good, we thought we would take a few more days to tour the Midlands."

"But you have only just got home!"

"I just wanted to stop by and see you Mama. But alas, our trunks have already been sent on ahead of us and another old friend is expecting us for dinner." Robert and Tom both rose from their perches. "I promise next time I'll be back for good." He cringed inwardly at his last words. Not only did he use the word 'promise' but he had successfully spent the last half an hour adding to a web that was getting more tangled by the day.

Violet was feeling quite powerless. If only he hadn't sent his belongings ahead of him then she might have been able to keep him home while his companion could have continued on, unable to influence her son any further. "So long as you do come back," Violet returned grudgingly. "You are missing so many engagements and opportunities. Lady Galloway was asking after you not three nights ago!"

"And I am sure you made my excuses very satisfactorily on my behalf," Robert responded smoothly. "Good day Mama and keep well."

He was well concealed in his bush across the road though incredibly bored. He did not know how long the Viscount and his friend would be in there and moreover there was no guarantee that he would set off again. The fact that it appeared that Lady Grantham had been telling the truth after all was a major setback for him. If he couldn't provide further proof to Lord Durham that the Viscount was really bedding his wife then he was in a world of trouble.

Movement immediately caught his eye. Much to his frustration, both gentlemen had appeared outside again and more alarmingly, the Viscount swung himself onto his horse and headed off with his companion again. He watched them carefully and took note of where they were headed. As soon as they were far enough along the street he pulled himself over the concrete wall and jumped down onto the pavement.

A boy barely dressed in rags rushed past him, heading in the same direction. His eyes darted around, looking for the reason the boy was running but nothing was obvious. He took off and with much longer legs, soon caught up with the boy around the next corner. He reached out and grabbed the lads' arm.

"Would you like to earn three shillings kid?" he said as kindly as he could.

"Yeah, whad do you wan'?" the boy asked.

"You see those two gentlemen on the horses walking down the street?"

"Yeah."

"Follow them for me and see if they stop for something to eat. Then come back and tell me. I'll be at Number 24 Hamilton Lane. Do you know where that is?"

"I know this city like the back of my hand," the kid replied defiantly. Without another word, he took off to catch up with the horses.

"But that is what I saw Milord." John shook his head madly.

"No, after all the work that you have done for me I refuse to believe that this is really so. It doesn't feel right. I know Crawley has her," John Durham paced back and forth in front of his desk. He was now utterly convinced that he had been double-crossed by that Robert Crawley. They are such a slippery bunch, he thought as he continued to stalk from one point to another.

"I do have a boy following them for you."

"So now you are letting a boy do a man's job. Is that why I hired you?" John snapped.

"Oi just you remember that you wouldn't even know any of this if I hadn't come and told you in the first place!"

"Perhaps they will stop for lunch at The George Inn?" John said more to himself.

"They might." John swept past his source and out into the hallway.

"Elliot!" he roared. There were hurried footsteps on the tiles below which became muffled as the old butler made it to the top of the stairs. "I am going out and I need my horse saddled immediately."

"Will you try to follow them?"

"There is no try. I just want my bloody wife back," he hissed at the young, middleclass man who was now occupying his doorframe. "You can go now, I have no more need of you. Elliot will pay what I owe you." The man opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it as John marched down his hallway to his dressing room.

A/N Please review!