Year of Cobert

July – vacation together

rating: M

set during the second film. contains original dialogue belonging to JF

...

They had driven hours along rocky paths getting ever narrower and curvier. The landscape around them was beautiful and Cora tried her best to concentrate on it. But with every little jump that the car took, her stomach churned a little more. She felt nauseous and she just hoped Robert wouldn't catch on to it. He was so excited, his eyes growing wider and becoming brighter with every metre they got closer to the villa his mother so mysteriously had inherited. Cora's hand curled around the seat and her nails dug into the hard cushion. France was beautiful, she told herself. The fields and hills they passed were beautiful, she thought as a tight curve pushed her to the side against the door. Being on vacation with Robert was most beautiful, she silently said to herself while she tried to not reach for his hand and squeeze it hard to have an outlet for her discomfort. Maybe he would mistake it for the same excitement he felt. Maybe not. Maybe he would see the paleness of her nose and the tightness of her lips and would press her for an explanation.

No, she loved South France and she loved their vacation. Her nausea didn't change that. Her nausea didn't matter.

"I think we're getting there."

Cora turned to him with a smile. His nose was nearly pressed up against the car window. For Robert, nothing could have come more fitting than this trip. He was blossoming in a way that surprised Cora. He was like a young boy, his excitement bounding at everything that slightly posed a novelty, and not at all the grumpy old man that had already seen everything. Cora's heart grew every time she realised how good this vacation was doing Robert. He deserved this.

She put her palm on the seat between them. She wanted his touch. Half of it was to share this joy with him, show him how happy she was for him. Half of it was because the tight knot in her stomach made her desperate. Desperate for relief, desperate for help and support. But she caught herself quickly enough. Her hand pressed flatly into the seat instead of digging her nails into his skin.

"So, not long anymore you think?" she asked and tried her best to sound nonchalant.

His sweet face turned to her. "I know I've said that quite a few times already. But look over there. That looks like tennis courts. I mean it could belong to another villa but somehow, I'm convinced it's the one."

"Oh, you're right." She tried to concentrate on the neatly kept tennis court she could spot behind a row of dry bushes.

"Can you believe it?" he said in awe, trying to take in every little piece of land they passed.

"No, but your mother is full of surprises. It's not the first time she left us slack-jawed with one of her revelations."

"But it's the first time we're visiting the south of France on her account," Robert gave back.

"I'm not mad at it."

She heard Robert gasp. Turning to him, she caught his whisper, "There it is."

And indeed, there it was. A villa, hidden in a fresh garden of green, and not less beautiful than Cora had pictured. Robert and she shared a look of genuine excitement. They'd arrived. Their vacation was now really beginning. For a second, Cora even forgot the tumult in her stomach.

The villa was a stunning house. The tour the Marquis gave them left Cora in awe. Violet must have done something really right to have come in possession of such a gem. The Marquis de Montmirail was incredibly nice, considering he was losing the house of his late father to perfect strangers.

But no matter how beautiful every corner of the villa was, Cora was most happy and relieved when they were shown to their rooms to freshen up. It meant some rest, finally. She could have flung her arms around Baxter's neck when her maid freed her of the tight confinements of her attire, if even for a couple of minutes. It felt good to be pampered by Baxter's soft hands after the straining journey. Cora considered getting into bed right away and taking a nap but decided it had to be enough to put her feet up a little on the small stool by the sofa in their room. Robert was pacing back and forth from the bed to the large windows and rambled on about how nice the Marquis was, how strangely the Marquis's mother behaved, and how gorgeous the south of France was. Cora let his stream of words wash over her and tried her best not to fall asleep before it was time to go down again.

"What are you most looking forward to?" His question caught her off guard. She hadn't been listening for a while and didn't know which direction his monologue had taken now. She blinked rapidly to shake off her sleepiness.

"Spending time with you I think," she said with a smile because it was true. She was looking forward to time with him. Hopefully nothing too exciting. Sitting by his side and looking out over the gardens or over the shore would be enough for her. She wouldn't be capable of really active pastimes without having to pay the price afterwards and attracting Robert's attention to her sick state as she would surely have to recover in bed for a while.

Robert's face warmed. "Of course," he nodded. "I don't plan on doing anything without you here. But the Marquis offered so many great things. We have to accept at least one of his offers. Would like to visit the tennis courts or take the boat tour? Or maybe have an evening swim in the pool like he proposed?"

Too many activities. Cora was so torn. She wanted to make the most of this great opportunity to be in France. She wanted to do everything that made Robert happy. But her weaker self would prefer to lay on a nice chaise longue and just look out onto the estate every hour of every day. But there was no way she could be a spoilsport for Robert the entire vacation.

"I think the boat tour sounds splendid. Have you ever had a custom boat trip around the coast of South France?" she smiled up at him as he stood before her lounging position now and waited for her answer.

"Right? It would be marvellous!"

Apart from the few more wrinkles and the hollower cheeks, Robert looked younger than ever to Cora. His youthful joy let him shine from within with such life that he didn't appear his age at all. God, he had been more adult when they had just been married. He had been so serious and sombre a lot of the time, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders (or at the least the weight of Downton). He hadn't been adult and mature in all aspects – his childish moodiness and cowardice had driven her insane – but he had been lacking the youthful ease that filled him now so entirely.

The knot in her stomach that had loosened since they had left the rocking vehicle was tightening again all of a sudden. It took Cora all not to jerk and pull a grimace, but the sound of surprised pain she couldn't hold back.

Robert's eyebrows knitted together, and Cora could see a hint of confused worry invade his face. But she was quick to overplay it.

"I just remembered; did I tell Baxter to unpack the hatboxes? I don't like it when my hats are in these stuffy boxes for too long."

Robert's face became thoughtful as he was visibly considering her question.

"I don't recall you telling her but maybe I didn't listen. Should I ring for her?"

Cora nodded, sneakily putting a hand over her stomach in a veiled gesture of changing her position on the sofa. "That would be nice."

She could do it. She could do it. She could master this vacation and give them a final nice experience before she had to drop the bomb once they were back into their normal routine at Downton and once Dr Clarkson had given her the final results. She could do it. She had managed the long journey and this was the hardest part. She was actually feeling fine compared to what could bother her at worst.

After ringing for Baxter, Robert stood at the window. He had stopped his pacing and looked out in contemplation. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and Cora watched him, trying to concentrate on his outline in the light suit to distract herself from the burning sensation in her stomach.

Having moved the thought a lot in her head, she eventually spoke up, "I think I might lie down for a while."

That was when the door opened and Baxter came in. Robert turned around, maybe because of what Cora had said, maybe because the door had opened.

"Great timing, milady," Baxter said. "You rang just in time. The Marquis and Madame de Montmirail are awaiting you and His Lordship downstairs. They are having tea prepared for their guests," she explained.

"Oh," Robert said. He looked at Cora. She knew what he was thinking. She felt stupid now for having voiced her wish to lie down. Of course, they would be expected downstairs soon. "Is that alright for you?" Robert asked her. He asked as if he knew that something wasn't right with her. But he didn't. He didn't know.

"Oh, of course," Cora quickly waved off. "I just thought we had more time to pass." She got up from the sofa and joined her maid at the dressing table.

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit." And with that Robert disappeared in his dressing room.

Baxter started her work silently. A part of her tension fell from Cora when she was alone in the room with her maid. Baxter fastened the summer tea gown and was careful not to put it on too tightly. Cora noticed her stare in the mirror. Once she looked up and met Baxter's gaze, the lady's maid found the courage to speak.

"What was it?" Baxter inquired.

"Hm?" Cora acted as if she didn't know what she was getting at.

"His Lordship asked whether you were alright with meeting your hosts. Is everything alright?" Baxter's voice was as calm and considerate as ever.

"Sure. I had thought there might be time to lie down a bit. But I can make do without."

"Well, just call for me if you should need anything," Baxter insisted.

"Thank you, Baxter. I will," Cora promised.

Baxter was beginning to put Cora's hair up and she worked even more carefully than usual. Cora tried to close her eyes for a couple of minutes before she had to perform as a fit and lively wife and Countess again.

The boat tour had been the right choice. As she sat now by his side, cruising over the sea with her personal sweet 'captain' cuddled up beside her, Cora realised she wouldn't want to have missed this experience for anything. The Marquis was a great tour guide but actually, it felt as if she was alone with Robert and there was no one else in the world. Maybe that was what made the Marquis such a great company. He respected their tight bond and relationship and gave them their privacy while not missing pointing out every nice spot they had to see when they were down here in France visiting his home.

For the moment they were swaying on the waves, Cora was forgetting everything that was wrong. By leaving the shore behind them, for once her plan to leave her troubles as well worked perfectly. On the horizon, she could see everything that wanted to be of importance shrink to miniatures that could as simply be packed away. She turned and looked at the one important thing that didn't shrink; never lost its great impact on her. Robert. He felt her look and turned to her with a smile. The salty sea air breathed around them and Cora felt it settle on her skin. She was sure that if she put her lips on Robert's cheek, she would taste the salt in an instant. Maybe she had tried it if they were alone. But they weren't. Not entirely. She took his hand instead because the joy that bubbled up in her sought a way out, a way to him. Her hand in the crocheted glove closed around his and he held it tight. He didn't let her go the moment she touched him.

Why couldn't it always be so easy and light? She wanted this happiness with her always.

The boat cruised faster over the waves than Cora had imagined. The unexpected speed spiked her adrenaline. In a pleasant way for a change. She felt like laughing out loud. How strange. She leaned to Robert, rested lightly against his arm, and grinned widely at the sea. Her mouth open in a big smile, she gulped the sea air and felt like it could heal every ailment that was pestering her body. Just for this beautiful moment, she believed it to be true.

He was so glad Cora chose to take the boat tour. It was the most beautiful experience. Especially since she enjoyed herself to an extent she hadn't on this vacation till now. She held his hand and kneaded it relentlessly. Robert liked it. It made her more present to him than she had been in a while. It was true he was also very absorbed in the whole mysterious inheritance business but even when he was with Cora alone, she seemed hidden behind a veil. She was there, he could touch her, but she somehow was far. He couldn't explain it and he only realised that it wasn't just a weird imagination on his part now that she was so near again. She laughed into the wind that carried new energy over the sea and seemed to revive her. He felt her next to him and he could have easily pulled her into his arms because she was with him again, and he would have known she would have continued to laugh. She wasn't distant. Not anymore. Not at the moment.

Her happiness infected him. He would have found great joy in the boat tour anyway but her loud laugh pulled hearty laughs from him too. He looked at her profile, saw the wrinkles of her eyes behind her sunglasses and saw her cheeks get fuller from the wide smile. And he adored the sight. In the back of his mind, he realised that he was missing the chance of the unique view of the coast on the horizon. But it wasn't of great importance if the alternative was watching Cora being joyous.

Now the vacation was becoming perfect.

But however nice the Marquis de Montmirail was, he was slightly spoiling the moment right now. Robert had to be alone on this boat with Cora. They would be utterly lost on the wide sea because despite his captain's hat he wouldn't be able to bring them safely back ashore with certainty. Even though the moment was already scratching perfection, there was something else he needed. And that was privacy with Cora. His Cora. Yes, he needed her. But even more, he needed to pull her back entirely to the here and now. Wherever her thoughts were abducting her lately, he had to get her back from there. And he felt like this moment could be his perfect chance.

If they were alone, he could scoop her up in his arms. Pull the hat from her raven hair, let her open the endless buttons on his captain's uniform. He would touch her gently all over and revel in the sound of her clear laugh and the sight of her pearly teeth grinning at him all the time. He would lay her down on the cushioned bench. Rock into her in the rhythm of the waves. He would whisper her name into her ear countless times so that she knew he was there. He was there for her. And she didn't have to escape alone to her serious thoughts. He would kiss the salty skin of his precious wife till she was out of sighs. Then he would cover her with her thin coat or his jacket, depending on how hot she still was from their lovemaking. He would watch her all the while. Would cherish seeing her in her beautiful afterglow in the unusual daylight of the open sea. Once she would scramble up into an upright position and look at him with that heartwarming exhausted satisfaction, he would put his captain's hat on her open hair. And maybe start it all again then.

"Do you see it?" Her voice was more decent than in his thoughts. He realised how he had lost reality completely.

"What?"

"The beach over there. It belongs to the villa," she explained what the Marquis must have said seconds before.

"Right," Robert agreed quickly.

"Isn't it wonderful to have a beach belonging to your property?" she said in a dreamy voice. Robert was about to agree but the Marquis spoke already.

"And it's belonging to your granddaughter now since your mother wants to give it to her. You'll surely spend a lot of time with the lucky girl here." Edouard de Montmirail looked at them with a kind smile, and Robert found it strange how happy he seemed to be that the villa and everything connected to it would be Sybbie's in the future. How was it that he felt no resentment at all towards the invading British?

Robert only nodded. He felt bad for taking away what should actually be someone else's. Cora was quiet. She looked out onto the sea, and her open-mouthed smile had changed into a more serene expression, maybe even a thoughtful mask.

Sybbie. The lucky girl. Maybe Cora was thinking about her. There was surely a lot to think about regarding their oldest grandchild. What her future would look like when her father and his new wife got more children, living happily at Brampton estate, and she would have a vast estate of her own; but an ocean away. The lucky girl. Robert wouldn't let it happen that things got how Mama had painted the image. Sybbie would never be disadvantaged compared to her cousins and future siblings. Robert would make sure Sybbie got what she deserved. Mama didn't have to make such a strangely gracious and jinxed gift that would put dear Sybbie onto a faraway piece of land that wasn't her home. If Mama hadn't given Sybbie the villa, Robert would have arranged something. He would have given her Eryholme maybe. Sybbie would have been close then. Robert would have liked that better. But the Marquis was right. If the villa was Sybbie's now, they would certainly spend a lot of time with her there. Because Robert wouldn't let her be alone. She belonged to them. No one would take her away from him.

He squeezed Cora's hand. They would sit with Sybbie at that beach, the three of them, Cora, Sybbie, and Robert. And Sybbie would tell them her plans for the future. And they would help her make them come true. Whatever she wanted for her future – and she had some big dreams, just like her mother – this time, they would help her make it come true.

When Cora turned her head to him, he thought for a moment, before her sunglasses blocked the view again, that he saw a glassy shimmer in her eyes. Maybe she was sharing his thoughts.

After the boat tour, physically Cora was better. It had probably been the long journey that had been a big strain on her and dampened her spirits right after their arrival. She didn't feel like she had to lay on a chaise longue every hour of every day anymore. Mentally, she still found herself drifting to melancholic and heart-clenching thoughts, but whenever she managed to escape them, she actually had a good time. Just how she had hoped. She enjoyed herself with Robert. She enjoyed herself in France. And she got the heartburn and the cramps down to a minimum with the help of Baxter and the proper medication.

She'd say the vacation was a success.

She even got to enjoy a night of romance and love in France. She couldn't ask for more. It was the day of the boat tour. Robert seemed to have the top priority this evening to get them to their room early. He excused them that they were quite exhausted and wanted to sleep early. But on the way up to their room, Cora could tell he had other plans. The way he ensured that there was physical contact all the way to the bedroom – a soft touch to her elbow, a hand on her back, holding her hand even as he opened the door for her – told her he wasn't exhausted and didn't want to sleep. She was excited because it felt so special after such a special day.

He waited patiently while Baxter made her ready for an early night of restoring sleep. With a soft smile on his face, he sat on the sofa and seemed without haste and need. It made Cora question for a moment if she might have read him wrong and he wasn't planning on lovemaking.

When Baxter was gone, he got up. "What a lovely day," he said in a soft tone.

"Yes, indeed."

He met her halfway in front of the bed. Taking her hands into his, he gently pulled her closer and looked down into her face for a few seconds before he slowly put his lips on hers. His kiss was without urgency but full of pleasure. He took his time caressing her lips and exploring her mouth. One of his hands sought the small of her back, glided down onto the curve of her backside, and gently pulled her closer to the warmth of his hips.

"I wanted to do this on the boat but there were other people there," he breathed as he broke the kiss.

"You could have given me a kiss." She extracted her hands from his grip and cupped his cheeks.

"I didn't just want to kiss you. And I'm not sure if I had been able to leave it at a kiss once I had started." He reached around to untie her hair. The curls spilt freely onto her back, and Robert ran his fingers through them, starting with lightly dragging them over her scalp and then combing the curls carefully with them.

"Oh." Heat flushed her at his words. He hadn't been really thinking that, right? But the way he looked at her was a strong indication that these had been exactly his thoughts. "I hope the privacy of this room will do well enough, even if it's not a boat," she whispered.

He guided her to the bed, his hands never leaving her body. He unwrapped her like a connoisseur would unwrap the most expensive chocolate bar. He slowly pulled every bow and opened every button before he peeled the nightgown off her body with the softest touch. Once she lay bare before him, he traced his fingertips over every curve and the outline of every bone. All the while, a serene smile graced his features. Cora relaxed more and more, sinking deeper into the sheets. Her eyelids drooped and she took in every sensation on her skin more intensely once her eyes were closed. He must have undressed himself somewhere along the way because at a point, she felt his skin glide against hers and she opened her eyes again. He lay by her side, his leg locking half of her body to him and his left hand still travelling over her chest.

She touched him, too. To feel him. To make him hers eternally for this moment. She brushed over his arms, and his shoulders, and down his back. She held her palms up against his breasts to feel the life of his heart and respiration. She lifted her thigh slightly against his manhood.

Robert lowered his head onto her shoulder and made a trail of kisses along her collarbone onto her breasts. Cora quivered at the intimate touch. He looked up at her with satisfaction for a moment. He then gave a wet kiss to her jaw, dragging his tongue along it until she sighed.

"You still taste of sea salt," he whispered and he ran his fingers through her hair.

Maybe she was too impatient, but the only words on her mind left her lips in a voiceless plea. "Love me, Robert."

And he did. He scooted down her body. Putting his palms around her hips, he dove his lips into her like a warm wave of love. He was utterly gentle but extremely persistent in pulling more and more desperate cries from her. She felt her face become wet, but she ignored the tears because she told herself they were tears of joy and love and pleasure. Robert loved her endlessly and selflessly. And Cora jerked like a stormy wave in the sea when Robert's ministrations made her lose all her senses but one and transformed her into a puddle of pleasure.

She wiped her face when he got up to kiss her lips and hold her close as she recovered from her orgasm. She was grateful that he didn't comment on her tears. She wouldn't want to explain. She wouldn't be able to.

She kissed him back, pulled him closer, and soon ground herself against him.

"Love me," she repeated, and Robert brushed the tousled hair from her face.

"I wasn't done yet." His voice was a deep rumble in his chest. Cora melted a little more. He continued playing with her hair as he pressed his erection into her hips. "I don't think I'm ever done," he added in an afterthought. And with that, he enveloped her in a deep kiss. His arms wound around her back, his fingers massaging her scalp, and his body rubbing against her. And wet she was again, welcoming his love and passion with a willing wet-hot embrace of her body. Having him in her, felt like a return home. If the sea air hadn't healed her properly today, his body connecting with hers surely would. It was a truth for tonight, and nothing else mattered.

They rocked together on the tumbling sheets of the warm bed. Like two waves they rolled together back and forth, becoming one in the synchrony of their movements. His hips twisted into her, giving her a jolt of pleasure every time he rubbed along her walls at just the right angle. His mouth was wet on her neck, it was driving her wild. Cora was groaning directly into his ear. She didn't want this to end, she wanted more, more, more. This was great. She wanted it to make her forget everything else. And for the moment, it did.

She moved her hips against his and revelled in the moans Robert gave in response.

"God! My dear, my dear Cora!" The words spilt into her hair where he buried his face.

His body drove into her with more force and less control, his movements getting more erratic. Cora was glad he didn't know she was ill because then he wouldn't dare. He would be too careful, maybe wouldn't love her at all, not in that way, not with his body. Not with such abandon. He would only want to take care of her, probably not accepting that what care she needed most at the moment was exactly this. Being loved with such abandon that her whole body vibrated from their love. He shouldn't be careful. He should be fervent and passionate. And because he didn't know he was. She was so thankful for his ignorance.

Cora clung desperately to him as her second orgasm pulled him over the edge with her.

This was the most beautiful night of all during their vacation.

He woke up with the most beautiful smell in his nose. There was still the smell of seawater and it was mixed with her scent. Her unique scent. When he moved a little. His nose tickled. He opened his eyes and slowly realised that his face was buried in her hair that spread wildly on his pillow and covered his face. He scooted even closer and ran his nose along her scalp. His Cora.

She was still asleep and he held her close and thought about the last day. He remembered her laugh when she had been sprayed with seawater as they were getting off the boat. A big wave had hit the quay wall just at the moment when she was getting onto the solid ground. She had laughed immediately and then wiped the drops off her face and fell into his arms as he assessed how soaked she was. And then Robert remembered the night. She was so warm and soft and arousing. He shouldn't think too much about it. He was getting semi-hard again already.

He never wanted this vacation to end.

But end it did. And not when they left the villa and boarded the train. It ended much sooner. It ended the moment she told him.

His head was full of other things. After their gorgeous night, he was troubled by thoughts about possibilities that could change his whole life in retrospect. Even though nothing about him was French, he could be half-French after all. His whole identity a lie, his title a fraud. All the while, Cora was strangely calm. Later he realised that of course, she was. She knew more. She knew something that put everything into perspective. That made his struggle insignificantly small. But at the moment, he only had his struggles to upset him. Her secret wasn't his reality yet. So, he complained in front of her how he hated garlic, what an atrocity it was that someone could question his rightfulness of being Lord Grantham, when it was all rather an act of kindness by someone who would accept him if he wasn't the rightful Lord Grantham, by someone who would love to have him as a brother. What a strange turn of events.

For Cora, he was Robert. Regardless of being Lord Grantham or not, regardless of being a real Crawley. He was just Robert to her, so she didn't really care. But the way she didn't even try to hide her nonchalance about it all confused him. Why didn't she care?

And then that night, she asked him for a walk through the gardens, and he was grateful for the private moment, just them two. He thought maybe he could steal a kiss from her behind a large hedge. Maybe she could reassure him with gentle words and gentle touches that everything was alright and never could he be the child of an illicit affair. But that was not at all what this walk was. Instead, it was the moment, the ground was pulled from under his feet.

"Robert. I have to tell you something."

He had ignored the serious tone and answered casually, even though he knew the tone was there. She kept walking beside him, and he felt her hand in the crook of his arm.

"I don't want to upset you and it's just that I have to tell you because you have a right to know. But it's not confirmed yet. It's just a suspicion."

He felt a strange clamminess wrap around his chest. "What is it?" he asked warily.

"I've seen the doctor– " she began.

"What doctor? Here in France?" He was alert now.

"No, not here. Dr Clarkson. I've seen him because… Well, I've seen him, and he is quite sure it doesn't look too good. I had the feeling already but of course, I'm no doctor– "

"Cora," his voice shook. He walked before her because his feet were faster, and he looked back at her with alarm. "What is it?" he demanded.

"Please, don't be upset!" she still sounded so reasonable as if everything was alright.

"What is it?" he repeated.

"It might be stomach cancer," she said softly.

He stumbled down the stairs into a quieter part of the gardens. "No," he breathed.

She nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Dr Clarkson is not very hopeful," she said as she followed him.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around to her fully. He was completely exasperated now. "Why haven't you told me before?"

"I was going to and then suddenly we were going here."

"But you should never have come here! We have to get you to a proper doctor. And I don't mean some quack in Marseille."

"Dr Clarkson is more than capable of coming up with a diagnosis."

"No, we'll go to London. We'll… we'll go to America if we have to," he decided.

"We'll discuss it when we know more," she calmly reasoned with him.

But he was losing it, "You should have told me!" he cried.

Now she was getting agitated too, her voice taking on a higher pitch, "With a chance of a last treat before illness to cover our lives?!"

"It may not be as bad as that." It couldn't be.

Her voice was breaking now as she answered. "Robert, I've run the hospital for years. Do you think I sat there with my ears blocked?"

That was when the first heavy sob broke free from his lips. He couldn't hold it in any longer. It was suffocating him. He cried. And cried.

Cora's composure changed in an instant when she saw what her words had done.

"Oh no! No, no, no! No. No, no. No," her voice was like a soft caress as she ran into his arms and grabbed his lapels for a second before running her silken hands over his cheeks. "This is not what I want at all," she whispered. She brushed her hand over his chest. "We're not sad people. My being ill now doesn't make us sad." Her voice had never been more tender than now as she implored him.

Between more sobs, he brought out, "I can't bear to lose my mother and my name, but must I lose you too? I can't bear it."

"If I can bear it, you can," she made clear. "Remember, I loved you from the start," a desperate laugh made its way from her throat. Robert felt his guts grow ice-cold as she reminded him of that. Nothing could have hurt more than reminding him that he wasted their time and hurt her during their first year of marriage now that he was suddenly losing her so quickly. "I loved you before you loved me," she continued.

"I've always been ashamed of that."

"Don't be. I had money; you needed it." Her hand brushed over his chest, up and down. Then she reached for his face again. "And then love came. And we have been happy, haven't we?" Every word was dangling there in the air, in a whisper just before the point of breaking. She was soaking up his tears with her glove.

"Oh, darling," was everything he could bring out before their lips crashed onto each other in a desperate kiss, deep and needy and despairing. Their hands slung around the back of each other's neck, pulling them deeper and deeper into the kiss.

Breaking from her, he said, and his voice was quickly being choked by his tears again, "You have been everything to me. Everything."

"And I hope I can be everything for a while yet," she smiled at him but her voice held the same tears as his.

When they went to bed that night, Robert didn't let go of her. There were moments when he was afraid, he would crush her, break the frailty that her existence suddenly was. But he couldn't find it in him to take his arms from her slender body. In his head there was the ever-same mantra going on and on, keeping him awake. You're everything to me. You are my everything. He wanted to whisper it into her hair, but he didn't want to risk waking her when she was on the brink of drifting off to sleep. My everything for a while yet, he told himself.

He didn't remember falling asleep that night. He only remembered waking up with dry tracks of tears burning on his face and Cora struggling from her sleep because his hold on her was getting too tight. She sleepily kissed him as she turned around in his arms and brushed her hand over his cheek.

He wouldn't let go of her. His everything.