February's prompt: pollen

Extending his arm, he waited patiently as Hathor loped over to him and dropped the leather, slaver-covered globule into his hand. With an excited yip, the labrador backed away from him and waited for him to throw the ball, anticipation causing her frame to tremble. After teasing her for a moment, he grinned and lobbed the object as far as he could. Hathor took off like a shot and caught up with the sphere in a matter of seconds, scooping it up into her mouth, and galloping back to him. When she reached him, she looked up at him with large pleading chocolate eyes, but he shook his head and scratched behind her ears. Tilting his head to the side, he gestured to the house and set off in its direction, Hathor trotting along behind him.

After two weeks of almost non stop cloud cover and rain, a sudden break in the gloom had prompted Robert to take advantage of his free morning to take his loyal companion for an extended constitutional. But, as he was discovering was happening with more frequency, he longed for the company of his wife. Her beautiful smile, shining eyes, and calm demeanor were a balm against his daily frustrations. In the few months they had been married, she had quickly become a refuge for him, someplace he could find peace and contentment, and he found himself searching her out at every opportunity.

Entering the house, he gave his hat and coat to one of the footman and inquired about his wife's location. Upon being informed that she was in the library, he set off in that direction, but a blur of movement halted his steps. With a handkerchief covering the lower half of her face, he watched as Cora hurried across the Great Hall and rushed up the stairs. He called after her, but she didn't seem to hear him. Quickly crossing the floor to the stairs, he bounded up them and raced down the hall to her bedroom. The door was ajar and before he could raise his knuckles to knock, he heard three successive sneezes.

"Cora?" he called softly, tapping his fingertips against the door. "Are you alright?"

His heart lurched when she turned towards him. When he had left only a short time earlier, she had been smiling and excited about her morning. But now she regarded him with reddened, puffy eyes that shone with tears instead of their usual sparkle.

"What happened?"

Rather than answering, she turned her head and sneezed into her handkerchief. She shook her head and blew her nose before facing him once again. Without the small square of fabric covering her face, he could see that her nose was pink with irritation and her cheeks were slightly swollen.

"Cora?" he asked again.

"I thought you were out for a walk," she commented, her throat raw. She sniffed and dabbed her nose with her handkerchief. "Did something happen?"

The truthful response that he had missed her nearly slipped passed his lips, but he reigned it in and said instead, "I just wasn't as up for a walk as I initially thought. But what about you? You…uh, don't look so well."

Cora sneezed again. "It's the flowers," she stated, her voice muffled by her handkerchief. "Or the chrysanthemums anyway. I'm allergic to them."

Robert furrowed his brow. "But then why would you use them?"

Stilling her movements, she stared at him with eyes full of incredulity and he inwardly winced at his query.

"I didn't," she responded. From her tone, he could tell she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"I thought you were supposed to do the flowers today," he remarked.

Averting her gaze from his, she moved her shoulders in an unladylike shrug. "Your mother thought it would be best for her to do them."

Her voice was a paradoxical mixture of guardedness and vulnerability. Watching her, Robert was reminded of the solace he found in her and realized that she didn't find the same in him. Another stone of guilt added itself to the rock pile he had in his abdomen. She had given him everything, far beyond the money that their marriage was based upon, and had received almost nothing in return. He knew she wasn't very happy. She had lost most of her natural expressiveness since their wedding and he was ashamed at his own complicity in her decline.

"Wait here," he instructed, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears.

Before Cora could respond, he spun on his heel and hurried out of the room, determination filling his every step. Rapidly descending the stairs, he was happy to find Charles tending to the fire in the Great Hall.

"Charles, do you know where Lady Grantham is?" he inquired.

"I believe she and Lady Rosamund are still out paying a call to Lady Shrewsbury, milord," Charles answered.

Robert nodded his head, relieved at the information and ignoring the nagging thought of why Cora hadn't been asked to join them. But her lack of invitation made what he had in mind possible. And it was even better that his mother wasn't around.

"Charles, when you are finished with the fire, I would like you to go around and remove all of the floral arrangements Lady Grantham did this morning."

Ever the perfect footman, Charles managed to keep his face impassive. He was not, however, unable to keep his surprise, shock, and confusion from flickering through his eyes. After a pregnant pause, he bobbed his head.

"Of course, milord," he stated.

"And Charles," Robert continued, "I would also like another selection of flowers to be brought in from the greenhouses. And please instruct Mr. Brockett to make sure there are no chrysanthemums or any related flowers among the ones he brings."

"Very good, milord."

Making his way into the library, Robert went ahead and began to gather the offending bouquets. Cora was very obviously allergic to the arrangements and the sooner he was able to get them out of the house, the sooner she would begin to feel better.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see Charles walking towards him, his arms laden with the displaced flowers wrapped in a tarp.

"I sent one of the hall boys down to the greenhouses, milord," said Charles. "Mr. Brockett should be here with a fresh selection of flowers shortly."

Robert handed over the blooms he had gathered and watched as Charles placed them in the tarp with the others. "Thank you, Charles. That will be all."

Quickly, Robert left the library and returned to Cora's room. She had moved over to her dressing table and was in the midst of applying cream to the skin just beneath her lower lashes. Her eyes, while slightly red, were no longer watery and some of the puffiness in her face had gone down.

"Feeling better?" he asked as he entered the room.

Cora nodded and smoothed the rest of the cream into her cheeks. "Jones brought me a powder. It should help mask any allergic reaction…at least for now."

"You don't have to worry about that. I had Charles remove all of the offending flowers."

Instead of the relieved reaction he expected, Cora whipped her head around and looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"You did what?"
"I had Charles remove the flowers," he repeated, slow and unsure. "You're allergic to them. Why shouldn't they be removed?"

"Robert, your mother is the one who did the flowers," she answered in exasperation. "If she sees that they are gone—"

Moving across the floor, Robert knelt in front of her and took her hands in his, unconsciously kissing the backs of them. "Cora, you had an allergic reaction. That is not something you can control. Mama may be harsh at times but she will understand."

"She's going to chalk it up to my being American," she mumbled, unconvinced.

"Well then we may have to ask her what her strong allergy to lilies implies," grinned Robert.

Cora chuckled and looked down at their joined hands, her fingers tightening their grip on his.

"But between you and me, I like your being an American," he stated, his voice almost a whisper. She returned her gaze to his, a look he couldn't understand filling her eyes. Feeling heat rush to his cheeks and a fluttering in his abdomen, he continued, "Now come with me."

With her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, he led her downstairs to the library where Brockett had brought several baskets containing a wide assortment of flowers. The open windows caused their fragrance to permeate the air, filling the room with a fresh and pleasant scent. Robert glanced over at Cora, happy to note she didn't seem to suffer any reaction. After running her gaze around the room, she looked up at him, her eyes questioning.

"Robert?"

"Well you were supposed to do the flowers this morning," he responded. "So I thought since they need to be redone anyway, there is no reason for you not to do them."

Cora squeezed his arm and smiled up at him. "Thank you."

Unable to keep a grin from breaking across his face, Robert watched as Cora excitedly made her way over to the baskets of flowers. He couldn't help but stare as she sifted through the different varieties, occasionally bringing a bloom to her nose and breathing in its fragrant perfume. An unconscious smile graced her features and her eyes shone and Robert felt his heart swell. When she turned and looked at him, her smile widened and his breath caught in his throat.

"If you're going to just stand there," she said, her tone teasing, "the least you can do is come hold these for me."

She didn't have to ask him twice. Quickly, he joined her and took the two baskets of flowers she had referred to, holding them as she selected the blossoms she wanted and placed them in the vases. As he observed which types of flowers Cora chose, Robert had the urge to suggest a different kind. He didn't know much about how to select floral arrangements, but even he knew his mother was going to have several remarks on the subject. But Cora's happiness at being able to do a task as she pleased kept him from saying anything.

Finishing the bouquets, Cora took a step back and tilted her head, observing her work with a scrutinizing gaze. She shifted her eyes over to him and looked at him in uncertainty.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Robert smiled. He found he quite liked the blossoms and the way Cora had positioned them. To him it didn't matter what his mother thought. She could ridicule their arrangement, could deride them as being foreign and un-english, but he would not allow her to change one thing about them. He was sure Cora had placed them with more thought and care than his mother did on any given day.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a single bloom that had fallen off one of the stems. Placing the empty baskets on the floor, he bent over and picked up the flower. With extreme gentleness, he tucked the purple blossom in her raven tresses, just above her left ear, and tenderly slid his hand along her jaw to her chin, lifting her head so their gazes locked.

"Absolutely beautiful," he whispered.

Delight filled him as he watched bursts of pink shade her cheeks. He noted how the blueness of her eyes intensified as she regarded him from lowered lashes.

"I meant the flowers," she murmured, a teasing smile wreathing her lips.

"What flowers?"

"Robert!" she laughed.

Grinning, he took a half step back and turned his head to look at the flowers. The arrangements were mostly comprised of greenery interspersed with white roses and purple asters with vines of ivy dangling from the base. The groupings were simple and understated as opposed to the complex and opulent arrangements his mother usually created.

"They're beautiful," he said after a moment, "but they don't hold a candle to you."

For the second time that day, Cora surprised him with her response. Instead of a demure teasing and flirty response, she took a half step away and peered up at him with guarded and suspicious eyes.

"Robert, what has gotten into you?" she murmured.

Gulping, Robert looked away, his collar suddenly too tight. What had gotten into him? Never in his life had he behaved in such a way and he wasn't sure what had come over him. He knew it had to do with Cora. The feelings her nearness conjured made him act without thought, his choices coming from someplace in his chest rather than his head. It frightened him that his behavior could be so unfettered, that years of practice at controlling himself could evaporate the second she was near.

Returning his gaze to her, he felt his cheeks redden, the burning sensation extending to the tips of his ears and down the back of his neck. He had made her uncomfortable. That much was obvious. He backed away from her to give her some space, trying to ignore the hurt and confusion that crossed her face.

Robert internally cursed himself as he watched Cora turn away from him, her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. She busied herself with the floral arrangement, adjusting stems that needed no rearranging, in an obvious attempt to conceal her emotions. How was it that he managed to bungle every interaction he had with his wife? It wasn't suspicion that had colored her eyes, it was a guarded hope and his misreading it had hurt her. He really could wring his own neck sometimes.

"Forgive me," he murmured "I—"

She shook her head and let out a quiet sigh. "No, don't apologize. You were just doing something nice for me. I shouldn't have—"

Again she shook her head. She didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't need to. He knew what she was going to say. He was just doing something nice for her and she shouldn't have read more into it. Robert inwardly groaned and cursed himself once more. What she ever saw in such an inept fool he would never know. She deserved someone who loved her, someone who always made her smile instead of hurting her during almost every interaction.

"Cora, I'm—"

"What's happened here?"

Both Cora and Robert whipped around to see Violet entering the library, still dressed in her hat and coat. As he watched the way his mother ran her eyes around the room with her lips pursed, Robert felt his stomach drop. She was much more unhappy about the different flowers than he had anticipated. From his peripheral vision, he noticed how Cora shrank back, almost as though she could disappear into the nearby flower arrangement.

"What happened to all of the flowers I arranged this morning?" Violet demanded, her eyes narrowing when they fell on Cora.

Robert watched as Cora gathered her strength, bracing to face the oncoming barrage entirely alone. Irritation at his mother and, more notably, himself, began to course its way through him. Cora was everything kind, sweet, and gentle, with a strength he couldn't fathom. Seeing the way she fortified herself, surrounded herself with a metaphorical suit of armor in attempt at self protection from her own family, broke his heart. In a few short months, his prickly family had managed drive her into her shell, had not only forced her to face obstacles on her own, but had added to them. And his blunder stricken self had done nothing to help her, nothing to support her, had actually helped his family in their efforts to rid her of her Americanness.

With a sense of protection he had never before experienced, Robert moved over to Cora and gripped her hand, his thumb unconsciously stroking over her knuckles. He didn't look at her, but kept his gaze focussed on his mother who had raised her brows at his display.

"I had them removed," he said.

"But why one earth would you do such a thing?" asked Violet.

She shifted her gaze over to him and hardened her eyes. Robert gulped nervously. It didn't matter that he was a grown adult, one sharp look or word from his mother and he would feel as though he was once again a boy about to be sent back to the nursery. But he would no longer allow Cora to face things alone and if that meant he had to stand up to his mother, then so be it. He opened his mouth to respond but the feeling of Cora squeezing his hand silenced him.

"I'm allergic to chrysanthemums," she explained. "Robert asked for them to be removed so that I would be more comfortable."

"I see," continued Violet. "I suppose it didn't occur to either of you to merely remove the offending blooms."

Robert sighed, "Mama…"

"They are quite bohemian, aren't they?" observed Violet. "Like something from the southern part of the continent."

"Now just a moment, Mama," interjected Robert, "there isn't a single reason why Cora's flowers cannot stay."

Violet returned her gaze to his and arched her brow. "I wasn't aware I had said anything to the contrary. It would be useless to waste more flowers. We shall simply have to make do."

With a final glance around the room, Violet shook her head and headed for the door, stating that she was going to go take off her hat. But Robert hardly noticed his mother's departure. His attention was utterly consumed by the way Cora was looking up at him. A bright smile wreathed her lips and her sapphire eyes shone, radiating an emotion he had no difficulty reading— love. She loved him. It wasn't something he was unaware of, she had even told him so once. But he had never seen it emanate so plainly.

Squeezing his hand, she stood up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Robert."

The realization that he had put that look of joy and contentment on her face caused a different feeling to flutter in his abdomen. But unlike the guilt and anxiety he normally felt when he was near Cora, this one was pleasant and soothing. He wasn't sure he could call it love, but it was certainly a start.

Placing a kiss onto her temple, he murmured, "You're welcome, Cora."