AN: All you Cobert shippers have been very patient while we dealt with Charlotte and Pamuk and Matthew and Eleanor and Evelyn, and I appreciate that, so here's 4,000+ words of mostly Cobert, including both fluff and terrific fun. The latter is thanks to latifraise—we were chatting on Facebook, and she asked if I would write a terrific fun scene in the setting I've used here, and it wasn't in my outline, but I thought WHY NOT. So thank her if you enjoy the ending of this chapter. ;-)
"My lady," Carson said, stepping into the drawing room, "Mr. Crawley is here to see you."
"To see me?" Cora asked. It was not unusual for Matthew to visit with Robert, but she did not think he had ever come to see her alone. And with her husband in the village this afternoon and her daughters spending a week in London for fittings of Eleanor's wedding dress, Cora was the sole Crawley at home.
"So he says," Carson said in a tone that conveyed mild disapproval, although Cora could not think why the butler would mind a visit from her husband's cousin. "Shall I send him in?"
Cora nodded. "Yes, please, Carson." She sighed as he left—she'd been tired lately and had been planning to go up for a nap soon before Robert came back, but apparently that wouldn't be happening.
A moment later, the butler returned with the younger man in tow, announced Mr. Crawley, and left with a polite bow.
"Matthew," she said, offering him a nod from her chair. She didn't think she'd ever shake the awkward feeling at not being able to stand for an introduction. "Please, sit down."
"Cousin Cora," he said warmly, taking a seat on the sofa near her. "I've wanted to see you since I returned from Manchester."
A nice sentiment, but Matthew had seen them all when he'd been at Downton for lunch two days earlier. "I'm sorry the others are out," she said with a bemused smile. "Robert should be home soon, but Charlotte and Eleanor have gone to London."
"Yes, I know," he said. "That's why I've come now. You see, I've…brought you something, and I'd rather the others—that is, I'd rather Charlotte didn't know it came from me."
It all sounded so preposterous that Cora could not help but laugh. "And what is this secret present, Matthew?"
But Matthew shook his head. "I'm quite serious. Could you promise to me that you won't tell Charlotte where you've gotten this?"
She simply could not imagine why on earth she would need to keep the origin of a gift from Matthew a secret. "I—"
"It's only…" Heavens, was her young cousin blushing? "I wouldn't want Charlotte to think I was…trying to buy her affection, so to speak. Nor would I want to manipulate her. I'd like to win her on my own merits."
A more surprising speech could not have come out of Matthew Crawley's mouth. He wanted to win Charlotte? Of course, "Matthew and Charlotte" had long been Cora's hope, but it had always been based on the idea that they would see that such a match was to their mutual benefit, rather as she and Robert had. Matthew's growing so attracted to Charlotte—with no signal on her part, as far as Cora knew—had never been the plan, and Cora was equal parts shocked and ashamed to be so. Of course her daughter could attract a suitor's good opinion.
"So if you could say that this was something Cousin Robert found and purchased, I would be obliged," Matthew went on.
"I…why yes, yes, of course. If you'd prefer." Far be it from her to interfere with Matthew's wooing of her eldest!
He smiled. "Excellent. You see, I went to Manchester primarily to see a friend of my father's—a doctor who specialized in severe injuries to the legs. I know it's not your legs that are injured, but I thought…that is, it's seemed to me that it must be immensely frustrating not to be able to move your chair yourself, to have to wait to be pushed everywhere. I couldn't help but think that surely there would be a way to construct a wheelchair that could be pushed by its occupant, and I thought that if anyone I knew would be an expert on the subject, it would be this man. My inquiries were more fruitful than I expected—he didn't just know how it might be done; he told me such chairs have recently begun to be produced in the larger cities. I took the liberty of asking him to order one for you, and I've brought it back with me. I hope you don't mind."
Cora's mouth opened, but no sound came out as she tried to comprehend Matthew's words. She'd be able to…move? On her own? Somewhere other than the swimming pool? She touched her fingers to her lips, struggling for the right words.
"Of course, if it isn't something you want—that is, if you prefer—"
"No, no!" She clasped a hand to Matthew's arm. "Of course I want that! It's only—we never thought—that is, I never expected—oh, of course I want to be able to move on my own!" She felt herself smiling so broadly at the thought that it felt as though her face might crack.
Matthew laughed softly—partly, she thought, in relief that he had not misjudged her feelings. "I'll go and get it, then," he said. "It's just outside."
Ah, so Carson had seen it—no wonder he had looked so disapproving! She could only imagine how troubling the very traditional butler would find the idea of the lady of the house having to do any work, even the very welcome work of maneuvering herself around a room.
Matthew returned a moment later, pushing a wicker chair that looked remarkably similar to the one she was already sitting in…except for an extra metal rim that had been added to each wheel, jutting out a bit and with a slightly smaller circumference than the tires.
"You grasp this rim," Matthew said, taking a seat in the chair, "and push it forward." He demonstrated, and she watched as he quickly made his way toward her. "It's not difficult—it's steering around corners that I was told takes a bit of practice," he said as he stood. "Would you like me to transfer you?"
Cora nodded eagerly, anxious to try it and touched at his offer to move her rather than waiting for a footman. "Yes, if you're sure you don't mind."
"I've seen Cousin Robert do it often enough. It doesn't look hard."
Cora held on to Matthew's neck as he slipped his arms beneath her knees and behind her back and lifted her, transferring her swiftly into the new chair. Tentatively, she took hold of the wheels' rims and pushed them downward, moving herself forward her first few inches.
"It works!" she exclaimed. Of course it worked, but she was not sure she had fully believed in the possibility until she'd tried it.
And now there would be no more waiting for a footman, no more always having to sit by the bell pull when left alone in a room, no more asking Robert or the girls to please push her somewhere, no more being so constantly and utterly dependent for even the slightest of movements. She was…free.
"Matthew, I…" She couldn't quite find the words to thank him, but her throat was suddenly too clogged to have uttered them anyway, and if the smile on his face were any indication, he understood. Cora reached for his arm and pulled it towards her, bringing his hand to her lips for a grateful kiss. "Thank you," she whispered. "I don't…oh, thank you."
"My lord, Mr. Crawley is in the drawing room with her ladyship," she heard Carson say from the front hall, and Robert responded distantly that he would go in to see him.
"Oh, Robert's home!" she exclaimed, delighted at the thought of showing him the new invention.
"You should go out to him," Matthew said with a smile. "Surprise him. Here, let me help you turn." He took hold of the handles on the chair's back and turned Cora toward the door. "As I said, this bit may take some practice." But she needed no practice to push the wheels quickly forward, and she pushed herself out into the hall, where Robert was removing his coat and passing it to Carson.
"Robert!" she called out. "Look what Matthew's found!"
He turned at her voice and stared, silently watching her roll in his direction as though he could not quite understand what he was seeing. "Cora…is that…are you…"
"I can push it myself," she said, beginning to laugh with the joy of it. "It's a new kind of wheelchair, and I–I can push it myself." A small sob forced its way up her throat, and suddenly her laughter slid into tears at the thought of everything wonderful that this meant. "I–I haven't got to wait to be pushed anymore," she managed to say, as though it weren't obvious.
"Oh, my darling." Robert had hurried to meet her and was now kneeling down so that he could take her into his arms. "How wonderful for you." His own voice wavered as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "How wonderful… Shh," he murmured, stroking his hand up and down her back as she cried. "You're all right, you're all right."
Of course she was all right. She was more than all right. But all she could do at the moment was to cling to Robert as the emotions poured out.
"Are you sure this is healthy for you?" Robert asked five nights later as his hands gently kneaded her shoulders.
"Yes!" She was quite used to Robert's nervousness around any new technology, and she was half afraid it would combine with his protectiveness to lead him to tell her not to push herself. "Clarkson said it was perfectly fine; my muscles just aren't used to it yet."
Cora flinched as his right thumb hit another tender spot. She was quite sore, a problem she knew she'd made worse by days of ignoring the ache growing in her shoulders in her eagerness to run about the house for the first time in decades.
"Sorry," he said immediately, easing off the pressure. "I'm trying not to hurt you, but you're so knotted."
"I know…but you are helping. I know you've got to press to get rid of them," she said, giving him a small smile in the mirror of her dressing table. It quickly turned to a wince as she felt him slowly digging back into the knot he'd just discovered.
"Just breathe, darling," he said quietly. "Take some deep breaths, and try to relax your shoulder."
She did as he said, sighing a moment later as she felt the muscle loosen. "There now," he said, bending to press a kiss to the place where he'd been working. "That's better."
"It's probably an odd thing to say, but I don't much mind hurting like this," she told him as his hands moved elsewhere on her shoulders. "It almost feels good to be sore from doing something, from something besides sitting in my chair all day, from movement."
"Yes, but I do think you've overdone it a bit—"
"Please, Robert. I can't go back, not now that I've—"
"No, of course not." He shook his head. "I don't want you to—I'm thrilled to see you moving around on your own, and I know how happy it must make you. But I also know that while Clarkson did say it wouldn't hurt you, he also thought you ought to try to build up to it and get your muscles used to the work slowly."
"I'm trying to build up to it—"
"Cora, you move around Downton more in a day than I move all week. I think now is the first time you've been still all day."
She laughed, knowing it was too true for protest. In her eager excitement, she'd rolled herself up and down the corridors so often this week that she was surprised she had not worn tracks in the carpet.
"And I know you're happy," he went on, "but I think it would be less painful for you if you took it a bit more slowly. I think you should take it easy tomorrow—let me and William and Thomas push you some."
Cora nodded. "All right, but I'll want to show the girls how it works when they get home." Charlotte and Eleanor would be returning to Downton on tomorrow's afternoon train.
"Oh, of course! Heavens, I'd rather forgotten about that."
The sentence made her realize she'd forgotten something as well. "Oh, about the girls—I'd meant to tell you…you haven't mentioned the new chair to them, have you?" Cora held her breath, hoping he had not written and mentioned Matthew's gift.
"No, I haven't—I thought you'd want to surprise them in person."
"I do, but most importantly…Matthew doesn't want Charlotte to know he's the one who gave it to me, and of course if we don't want Charlotte to know, we'd better not tell Eleanor."
"Why on earth not? It was kind and generous—I wish he'd let me pay him; I'm sure it was expensive."
"I think that's why he doesn't want Charlotte to know. He knows it was kind and generous, and he doesn't that to be what wins her, nor does he want her to feel he's trying to manipulate her or buy her affections."
Robert's hands froze on her shoulders for a moment. "Her affections?"
"Yes. It appears that Matthew's falling for Charlotte."
She felt his thumbs begin to rub small circles again, but it was another moment before he spoke. "I thought Charlotte didn't like Matthew."
"Well, she didn't—"
"But now she does?"
"I'm not sure. She spoke harshly of him just last month, but…I don't know that she really dislikes him, at least not as she used to. They seem almost easy together at times. I'm not sure I'd call it increased affection, though, as much as decreased hostility."
Robert laughed. "It seems safe to say he must not think her hostile, not if he thinks he can woo her. Did you ever find out what about him she took such offense to originally?"
"No, she wouldn't ever say more than that she thought him insufferably arrogant—which never quite rang true with Matthew as I've known him. More likely she got a wrong first impression and couldn't let go of it. You know how she can be when she convinces herself of something."
"Yes, I'm still wondering if it was wise to send her to London to help Eleanor with her dress. I can't help but imagine that Eleanor's going to be coming home with something she does not like and does not want because Charlotte decreed it. I wonder if we ought to have sent Mama instead."
"Because we all know your mother has no strong opinions, and would never push anything on anybody." She met Robert's eyes in the mirror, and they shared a smile. "Your sister's with them. It's not as though they're shopping alone."
"Don't remind me. I don't need visions of myself taking her down the aisle while she's in a French cancan dress, or whatever else has struck Rosamund's fancy lately."
Cora giggled, and they fell silent. She let her eyes drift close as he continued easing the ache out of her shoulders, feeling the deep weariness that had been with her for days slipping over her. She blamed it mostly on the sudden increase in her physical exertion…but hadn't she already been a bit tired the day Matthew brought the chair? It didn't matter now…a few moments' of silence in the midst of a soothing massage left her too exhausted to form complete thoughts.
"Cora?"
She blinked, jerking her head up as she realized she'd nodded off. "I'm sorry, Robert. I don't know what came over me—I've been so tired lately."
He chuckled. "You certainly do need to take it easy tomorrow. But come, darling. Let's get you to bed." Robert bent and kissed her softly, then lifted her. She nestled into his chest, savoring the short trip and breathing in his scent.
And wanting him, desperately. Her blood was suddenly hot in her veins as he pressed her against his body, and she wanted to make love nearly as badly as she wanted to sleep. The suddenness and urgency of her own desire confused her, and she forced herself to swallow it. Not now. Not tonight. She was too tired.
"I love you," she whispered, trying to content herself with that.
"And I love you, sweetheart," he said as he settled her on the bed. "How would you like to lie?"
"On my right, I think," she murmured. She'd be able to keep her hands to herself that way. "If you'll hold me from behind."
"Of course, darling." She felt the bed shift as Robert climbed in, and then his arms were around her as he tugged her against him.
Her last thought as she fell asleep was how divine it felt to have him near her.
"Robert, darling."
Robert looked up from the newspaper he was reading. He was seated next to the pool, half skimming the morning paper and half listening to the sounds of Cora's laps.* She was a perfectly capable swimmer, and so he felt comfortable not having his eyes on her, but he had never warmed to the idea of her swimming alone with no one to help should she have a problem.
She had asked upon waking if he would take her down to the pool so she might stretch her muscles in a less strenuous way that pushing her chair, and he'd readily agreed, thinking this a good idea and knowing that the warm water would soothe any lingering aches in her shoulders.
Cora was now making her way over to the side of the pool, where she took hold of the concrete, resting for a moment.
"Yes, love?"
She grinned. "Come here, please."
He stood and walked to the edge, crouching down in front of her. "Did you want me to help you get out?"
"No, I want you to get in."
He blinked, not sure for a moment that he'd heard correctly. "Cora, I'm not in my bathing costume."
"What would you need that for?" she asked, a seductive smoothness creeping into her voice. "I'd really rather you just kept everything off."
In recent weeks, Cora's desire for intimacy had seemed to increase, a phenomenon that thrilled him. He was not quite sure what the source of it was, although he had not much thought about it—perhaps it was a delayed effect of the change in her body in the last year. Whatever it was, he liked it, but…
"Cora, not here…not now…" You fool, half of his brain said. What are you refusing her for? Yet the thinking part of his mind objected strenuously to the idea of climbing naked into a swimming pool to have sex with his wife. How very undignified…how very unorthodox…how very…
"I think it would be terrifically fun," Cora said, blinking coquettishly.
"I just don't think that we…"
"Fine." She stuck out her lower lip in a mock pout. "If you don't want to, we won't. But can you at least kiss me?"
"Well, that I can certainly do." Cora took hold of his cravat, guiding him closer to her as he leaned over. But as he brushed his lips to hers, he felt her yank sharply down on the fabric, and he lost his balance and tumbled into the water.
"Cora!" He came up sputtering, not sure whether he was shocked, outraged, or amused and suspecting it was some combination of the three. "Whatever did you do that for?"
Cora, of course, was laughing hysterically. "You look like a drowned rat!" she exclaimed.
He had no doubt, as he stood in the pool in his sopping wet suit with water from his hair dripping down his face, that this was an entirely correct assessment. Cora, of course, had dodged him skillfully and had merely a few drops of water on the curls O'Brien had tied back with a scarf.
"And whose fault," he said, "is that?"
"Oh, don't be angry, Robert," she said, still giggling and swimming back over to him. "I just wanted to be near you, and surely you can't be upset about that." As she said this, she draped her arms around his neck, pulling herself close to him.
"Well, no, no. I'm not upset about that," he stammered, feeling his body beginning to react to her obvious desire.
"Good," she murmured, slowly leaving a trail of kisses along his chin. "This wouldn't be any fun at all if you were upset."
He wrapped his own arms around her, caressing her back and enjoying having her close.
"I don't think you ought to wear so many clothes in the pool," she whispered in his ear.
He was inclined to agree with that.
"Set me on the side and let me help you with them."
He lifted her easily—her already-small weight was greatly diminished by the water—onto the side of the pool, where her fingers worked in tandem with his to divest him of his jacket and shirt and tie. She reached downward for his pants, but he stilled her hand—"Let me do that, or you'll have me spending before you're back in the water"—and then pulled off his shoes and socks, wondering fleetingly how he would explain his sodden clothing to Bates later.
"Ah, but you're still dressed. What shall we do about that, my dear?" he asked playfully.
She raised her arms so he could pull the dress of her bathing suit** over her head, and he gasped at the sight of Cora naked to the waist—a familiar sight, but not one that would ever grow old.
"Come here, darling," he murmured, lifting her by the waist and bringing her back into his arms and into the water with a kiss to her cheek.
"I've still got my bloomers on," she said, her voice husky as she entwined her arms around his neck again.
"Oh, but I can get those off while I'm holding you," he said, letting go with one hand and beginning to slide them off. "I've had quite a bit of practice removing your drawers, you know."
"Robert!" She giggled. "That's no way to talk to a lady!"
"A lady would not have dragged her husband into the pool, so I think we're quite in the clear on that count," he said as he removed the garment. He arranged her paralyzed legs so that they wrapped around his waist and then slipped his arms underneath her. This left her sitting directly on his hands, and he groaned at the feeling. "Oh, Cora…"
"Take me, Robert," she said, her voice tight. "I'm ready. Please."
He needed no more encouragement than that to slip inside her. With her in his arms and with her light weight in the water, he was able to guide her body down onto him, helping her into the best position for both of them in a way he couldn't on dry land.
"Robert," she whimpered, her face buried in his neck as she trembled.
"Let go, darling, let go," he murmured, knowing she often held tight to herself, finding it difficult to let the last vestiges of the proper countess go. He found that endearing, but not nearly as endearing as when she threw caution to the wind and cried out in his arms.
He shifted her again, still exploring the range of sensations…and then he knew he'd found something truly wonderful for her as Cora gave a sudden shriek, going rigid in his arms.
"Darling?" he asked, thinking she was reacting to pleasure and not pain, but wanting to be sure.
"There," she choked, her nails digging into his back. "There!"
Encouraged by her ecstasy, he pushed in harder, and a low moan escaped from deep in her chest. Then he felt her teeth sink into his shoulder, hurting wonderfully. Her body tightened around him—it never failed to amaze him that the muscles in this part of her body could still move—and he reached his own climax shortly after hers.
Afterwards he continued to hold her, her body going limp in his arms, her head on his shoulder as they both caught their breath. "You are wonderful," he whispered as her fingers traced slow patterns over his back. "And I love you."
She kissed his neck.
"Robert, darling," she whispered after a moment. "I think you need to swim with me much more often."
*In The Broken Places, Cora discovered on a holiday in Scotland that she could swim. That's accurate medically—paraplegia does not prevent you from swimming; you just have to do all the work with your arms. (There are some awesome YouTube videos of this. It's very impressive to me, considering I can't swim even with the use of all four limbs.)
Cora was ecstatic to discover this, because being in the water let her move freely and forget her injury for a bit. Seeing her joy, Robert immediately decided to build an indoor pool at Downton so that she could swim at home year-round.
**Cora's bathing suit would look nothing like the ones we see at the beach today, so don't picture her in a bikini. (Seriously, stop that. Lord Grantham does not appreciate people imagining her ladyship in a bikini.) Googling "1910s bathing costume" gives you a fairly good idea of what she'd be wearing here. Basically, most of the options are a little sleeveless or short-sleeved dress over a pair of bloomers that would come at least to her knees.