A/N Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. I know this is a bit of slow burner, but I hope you enjoy. :)
Mrs. Levinson had rented a large house in Belgrave Square, having been assured the area was a fashionable one and within a reasonable distance from anything or anyone she and her daughter might wish to see in London. During their first two weeks in town there had indeed scarcely been a morning where the mother and daughter had not been either out visiting or in receiving visitors from both their new neighbours and Mrs. Levinson's old acquaintances. The morning after Lady Cotworth's ball, however, brought a change to their recently established routine.
One look out of the window as she entered the breakfast room, told Cora that today there was not likely to be much entertainment from the outside world. The rain she had been warned about before entering England had arrived during the night and seemed now to cover everything with a grey, wet blanket that only few would dare to challenge.
It was an uninspiring sight, to be sure, but when she settled down to read a book after breakfast, Cora found she did not really mind the change. She enjoyed social calls as much as any young woman of her age, but after two solid weeks of being the center of everyone's attention and being introduced to more eligible men than she could even name, the idea of solitude definitely had its perks.
Her mother, however, took to the altered weather with less excitement.
"This is the London I remember," said Mrs. Levinson dramatically as she joined Cora some time later in the drawing room. "Endless rain."
"But Mama, we've had beautiful weather for two whole weeks," Cora reminded her, looking up from the book she had picked up. "It had to rain eventually."
"I'm glad you have adapted that attitude, darling," her mother said dryly, moving over to pat Cora's shoulder. "You will need it when you are married and settled here."
"Mama…"
"There's no need to blush about it. Someone is going to marry you for your money so we might as well make sure it's someone with a fancy title and a country estate." Mrs. Levinson paused to think of all the partners her daughter had had the previous night. "How about that young Viscount?" she asked. "Or the Earl? Poor fellow looked rather frightened."
"Lord Grantham?" Cora suggested, her cheeks colouring slightly. She remembered the Earl very well. "I liked him. He was not so condescending as most of his equals I have met."
Mrs. Levinson raised her eyebrow. "So he didn't try to impress you with the history of his family and peerage?"
"He did talk a great deal about his lands in Yorkshire," Cora had to admit, "but you should have heard him speak. It wasn't at all conceited like when Lord Maddox described his seat in Sussex last week. I think Lord Grantham genuinely loves his home and all the lands that surround it."
"Of course he does, darling," replied Mrs. Levinson. "It all belongs to him, after all."
Cora felt her mother had missed the point, but did not wish to argue about it. She tried to turn her attention back to her book, but her mother's eyes were sharper than she had expected.
"Cora dear," she said when her daughter picked up her book again without saying another word. "Surely you did not take a fancy to him after just one dance?"
"Of course not," Cora replied without meeting her mother's eyes. "I only said I liked him."
Mrs. Levinson looked at her for a moment, a frown creasing her forehead.
"Just be careful, child," she finally said. "You should not give him your heart if it's only your money he wants."
As the days passed and Robert remained in town, his path did not cross the Levinsons again, but he heard many whispers and rumours about the American families that had arrived for the season. It was widely known that they all were rich but it was equally well understood that as people they were of lesser worth than any of the old and dignified English families they wanted to socialize with. Robert felt uneasy in the knowledge that if he were to marry an American, his choice would be frowned upon by many, but the thought of Downton and what he owed to his legacy was enough to keep him focused.
A week after the ball at Lady Cotworth's, he had his first more reliable intelligence from his solicitor Mr. Stephens.
The Levinsons, he was able to tell Robert, were a family of considerable wealth from the Midwestern part of the United States, but notable also in the social circles of New York where they held a large townhouse. Miss Levinson had one brother who was the heir to their father's business as well as to a lion's share of the family fortune, but even so, Miss Levinson herself stood to inherit a great deal of money that would come to her possession when her father died or when she married, whichever would occur first. The money and its interest would be more than enough to save Downton, not only for Robert but for his future children as well.
"That is very good news indeed," Robert said once Stephens had finished laying out the information he had gathered. "Is there anything you can tell me about the family in general?" he asked after digesting the first flood of information.
"Not very much, My Lord," Stephens said, shaking his head. "By all accounts they appear to be a respectable family. That is, as respectable as can be expected in the circumstances. But they seem to have risen to wealth only quite recently, and their money comes from trade, My Lord," he finished, lowering his voice as if the mere mention of trade would bring shame to his master's house.
Robert sighed. This, of course, he had expected.
"And do you have any information regarding which form of trade they engage in?" he asked patiently.
"Dry goods, my Lord," Stephens replied. "Or so I have been told. It was Miss Lenvinson's grandfather who started the business and her father who built it to what it is now. What the family was before then, I could not gather."
"Thank you, Stephens," Robert said, running a hand through his hair. Dry goods, he thought with exasperation. What was he getting himself into? "That will be all for now," he said out loud, signalling that the meeting was over.
Stephens began walking out, but at the door he paused. "Will you be needing anything else, My Lord?" he asked.
"No," Robert began to say, but then quickly changed his mind. "I mean, yes," he corrected himself, his decision made. "Not at the moment, but your assistance may be needed to draw up some legal documents later."
"May I ask of what kind, My Lord?"
"I will speak of it another time," Robert said, already thinking of his next move. "Please tell Mr. Harris I would like to change now."
"Very well, My Lord."
As Stephens left, Robert began pacing the room impatiently, waiting for his valet to arrive. Perhaps it was a desperate and rash decision, but at least the path ahead of him finally seemed clear. As soon as he had changed, he would call on the Levinsons and see if he might be able to place his future hopes at the mercy of a young Cora Levinson, from the Midwestern part of the United States.