First Come, First Serve

Chapter 3

…

Lord Downton.

Never in her life would Cora have expected him to show up in her parlour. Lord Downton was a person from another lifetime. Cora had bawled all the way across the ocean on her way back from England, and even though he still wasn't erased from her memory and soul, the distance between them helped Cora to not connect him to her current life anymore as she stepped onto the pier at the New York harbour.

But now he was here. In New York and in her house, and looked at her with big eyes full of hope. Was it hope?

Cora wanted to turn around and lock herself up in her room. This was too much.

"Look, dear! A surprise for you! A friend from England," John called into her ear.

Cora nodded in a daze.

"Lord Downton! How nice. Really, what a surprise!" Cora said mechanically. She forced a smile onto her face.

Lord Downton stepped closer, and Cora held out her hand for him in greeting. He bowed slightly as he lowered his lips in a hinted kiss on the hand. Cora felt a little lightheaded.

A bit of the tension left Cora when they went over into the dining room. Dinner was a welcome distraction and an innocuous topic of conversation. Lord Downton sat at the head of the table, Cora and John to either side of him. The conversation in the parlour had been awkward for Cora. It had given a little insight into why Lord Downton suddenly appeared in her house but the situation with the three of them had unnerved her immensely. Lord Downton said he was in New York on a trip with his uncle and cousin with the intention of courting someone here in town. Cora didn't quite understand if he said that about himself or about his cousin, but she didn't ask. Then Lord Downton mysteriously had extended heartfelt greetings from his sister, Lady Rosamund, and Cora just thanked him effervescently and said something about such nice talks she had had with Lady Rosamund when in reality, she had seen the girl only on one or two occasions and mostly remembered the flaming red hair and the snappy tongue. Cora wondered why Lord Downton said something like this.

A look at him, how he sat there at the head of the dinner table, gave her the tiniest bit of amusement. His eyes were big in awe of the countless dishes that were served one after the other. Cora was sure he wasn't used to such a heavily laden dinner table for three people. In slight confusion, he looked up at Cora first and then at John but he didn't seem to dare ask what was burning on his mind.

"Don't hold back, Lord Downton! We have enough for you to really dig in," John said with a chuckle. He was really happy as he filled his plate with heaps of shrimp and garlic mayonnaise.

"I wasn't worried about that," Lord Downton mumbled. And Cora had to smirk. She knew how he was feeling. Overwhelmed and slightly appalled by her husband's customs and preferences.

"But the best is the lamprey bordelaise," John continued. "You haven't really eaten until you have tried that."

"Now, John, that's not true," Cora chimed in, her voice a soft soothing in the only subtly tensed atmosphere in the dining room. "You know that that's a special taste of yours. Not everyone has to like it." Cora could not help the images of these ghastly lamprey fish flood her mind. As a young girl, maybe twelve years old, she had once visited a fish market with her brother Harold and their governess, and Harold had shown her these strange fish with hundreds of teeth down their throat and he'd ended up chasing her with a dead lamprey through the fish stands. It was the material of her nightmares for quite a while. Now, when John ate these creatures and gushed about this delicacy, Cora still had a shiver run down her spine.

"You don't have to it eat, Lord Downton." She turned to their guest in a conspiratorial motion. With a smile, she added, "You don't have to eat anything you don't like, in fact."

"Oh, it's alright," he gave back and as if to prove it he bit into a shrimp, his teeth suspiciously precautious.

"I only eat the 'boring' dishes myself," Cora said. She dipped a shrimp into her mayonnaise. "You'll see, Lord Downton. The main dishes are quite illustrious. I choose to stick to the salmon." She knew of John's stern look on her temple. In a rush of bravery, she still added in a whisper, "It's the safe option."

"Now enough, wife! Don't put off our guest!" John's voice boomed, and Cora closed her eyes like every time his voice pierced through her eardrum and seemed to shake her soul in an unbidden invasion.

The dragging silence at the table told Cora without having to lift her gaze that Lord Downton was at least as uncomfortable as she. But she knew it was only John's inability to express himself when personally hurt that made him get so loud. He didn't mean any harm. It was just the volume that was unfitting. For a while, only the clinking of the cutlery filled the room and Cora didn't dare look at either man. She concentrated on the garlic prickling on her tongue and the mild shrimp flesh soothing it. When the small portion on her plate cleared, she chanced a glance up the table. Lord Downton was looking at her. Tentatively. A soft feeling carrying across to her and reaching out as if he had been the one bellowing at her and trying to apologise now silently.

All the hard armour of rejection she had immediately put on when she saw him melted now in the presence of his silent empathy. Seeing that John was engulfed in his second entry dish, Cora reciprocated Lord Downton's careful but warm look. Old feelings resurfaced. Flashed up even though she thought she had buried them successfully. Feelings that his warm gaze had incited on their first encounters in ballrooms. They had barely exchanged many words but his gaze had stoked her feelings right from the start. It was a gaze that seemed eager to explore her, to know her, know her soul from the inside out. Sure, his eyes also caught at her neck or her decolletage. But Cora felt he had been willing to see more. His eyes had seemed to drown in her when laughs escaped her open mouth. And the possibility of being known entirely let her fall for that man who was now a guest at her husband's dinner table.

Cora frightened. In shock, she looked away from Lord Downton. She had opened Pandora's box. The dangerous feelings that would only come around to hurt her had been sealed with great effort in a distant part of her subconsciousness. Giving in to a single look at Lord Downton now was enough to break the seal and expose her to the doom of her own feelings. She had to control her emotions better.

As if to remind her of her place, she felt a kick in her stomach. John's child was as gracious to centre her in her reality before its father had to do it. Cora shook herself briskly. No, never should John have to do that. The fear of having him remind her of her place was enough for this evening to drive a wedge between Cora and her feelings for their guest.

Lord Downton tried an admirable amount of the dished-up meals. He was wise enough to take only a little bit here and a little bit there. And he politely nodded at John after chewing on a tiny piece of lamprey. What a good poker face, Cora thought. Because he couldn't possibly enjoy this imposition of a meal.

After the tiring long dinner, they moved to their sitting room next door, and Cora couldn't help but push a sigh of exhaustion through her lips when she clumsily settled into an armchair. The men began talking sports. John showed a surprising interest in cricket and Lord Downton shared his knowledge with ease. Cora was glad they entertained each other and got along quite well. She grew tired and began running her hand slowly over her belly. She felt like a heavy colossus since she had put on a great amount in the last month. The doctor said it had to be a big baby, but Cora felt it was a huge baby. But after all, she was also already rather close to giving birth. Four, maybe five more weeks, the doctor said. Cora wouldn't mind if it were four or five days. She was excited. The baby already made her incredibly excited now and it wasn't even there yet. When she needed comfort and serenity, turning inwards to herself but also to the precious gift under her ribs gave her the calm peace she needed. She felt they already understood each other perfectly, her quiet baby and she. It was hers and no one could take it from her.

It appeared her baby had already found sleep because apart from very few gentle nudges just after she sat down in the armchair, it was still. Rhythmically, Cora caressed her stomach through the orange satin of her gown. Her eyes drooped and the men's voices were a pleasant ripple in the background.

John's loud voice roused Cora from her slumber. Her neck was strained from the unideal position in the armchair.

"Yes, come visit us again!"

Cora blinked. She realised Lord Downton was leaving. But would he come again? She was confused.

"Let me meet your uncle and cousin! I hope they are good eaters." John laughed about himself.

Then the men noticed that Cora was awake again.

"Aren't I right, dear? It's a great idea to see Lord Downton again next week. And get to know his uncle and cousin. You don't know them yet, do you?"

Cora gulped. She avoided looking at Lord Downton. "No, I don't."

"Well, it's settled," John said in good spirits. "We will see you next Tuesday." He shook Lord Downton's hand.

"Thank you very much. I'm looking forward to it." Lord Downton said the last sentence with his eyes on Cora. He bowed out with a smile directed at her. Feelings of elation and trepidation fought in Cora's chest. He would be back.

Howard felt a sense of accomplishment when Robert told him by the by that he had secured them an invitation to his renowned friends, the Lowells. Even Howard knew that name. One had to stumble upon it when confronted with the American upper class. What a great omen to start their dive into the New York high society right at the top! Edwin's bride hunt could only be successful!

Howard had to know everything about this family now. He pressed Robert for information about their hosts, but Robert seemed reluctant and acted as if he didn't know much about them himself.

"But you have to know more about his business! Didn't you talk about it last week? You must have gone there prepared to say the right things and appeal to him." Howard was a little frustrated with his nephew. He was a good five years older than his son Edwin but just as much still a greenhorn. No wonder that – to his father's grievance – he had failed to bind a woman yet. All the family's efforts had gone into securing Robert a jingling match last season. Only a booby could blunder that by denying every suggested debutante. But Robert was a booby; that wasn't news. Howard had always seen that. Only good that he had these invaluable connections here in New York. He was good for something at least.

So because Robert was of little help, Howard had to do most of his research on his own. He asked around, and by Tuesday, he was quite content with his knowledge about the Lowell family. He tried his best to indoctrinate as much of his knowledge as possible into his son but the boy was just about to turn twenty and still a big kid at heart. Howard knew he would have to do all the work on this mission himself. It was important that Edwin married well because he was Howard's only son, and Susan, Edwin's slightly older sister, wouldn't be good for much. She was a girl after all, couldn't inherit, and was not very likeable. Howard had no high hopes for her, even if his wife Lily always argued with him on that in her moaning, weak voice. Howard was convinced to put his energy into Edwin's future and no one could change his mind.

On their way to the Lowells' townhouse, Howard was the only one who was speaking. Edwin and Robert both stared into space as if they had hard matters to stomach. Howard didn't understand the gloom. Why were they so defeated before they had even started? It seemed Howard had to help them to their happiness.

"Chaps. Even though there will be no girls for you tonight, this is very important. If you do well tonight, you can court and flirt with all the young, attractive Americans in the blink of an eye, alright?"

Edwin grinned at him. The lad seemed to understand. Robert only threw him a dark glance. That was right. Robert didn't have much success yet in flirting with girls. But his bad mood surely didn't help, Howard thought.

"Remember, Edwin. Try to be as posh as possible. Think of the Prince of Wales. Be like him. The American, they like posh people and you have to have them think you are particularly posh." He hoped Edwin understood better than his daft nod indicated.

Once at Lowell mansion and greeted by the hosts, Howard realised he hadn't needed to worry at all. Mr John Lowell was a great and jovial fellow. He seemed to take them for the British aristocrats Howard wanted them to be, and Mr Lowell and Howard immediately fell into a stimulated conversation. There was no doubt that after tonight they would properly enter the circles of the high society.