First Come, First Serve

Chapter 4

…

He was back. The delusionally hopeful part of him thought of it as a second 'second chance'. Mrs Lowell was inexorably bound to another man but the chance of seeing her again gave Robert this weird hope that she still could be a part of his life. She had to be. Since he saw her last week, Robert had no doubt that Cora Levinson (he hated thinking of her as Mrs Lowell, and in his head, he started calling her Cora after seeing her last week) was the woman to share his life with. Maybe it was stupid to say there could be no one other than her by his side or he could only marry her and no one else because of course, he knew that was how it would come. Cora was married and he needed a rich bride in the next few months. Without wanting to accept it, Robert knew deep down he had to marry someone else and he would. But as long as he shared her presence he would only think and dream and fantasise about her.

She had been rather cold and taciturn last week. It was a shock both of them had to digest at first. But Robert came to understand her reaction. He was an invader. He wasn't the friend he'd proclaimed. She was settling into her domestic life and suddenly an old suitor stood in her parlour. But had he been a suitor? He wasn't quite sure. And luckily (was it really lucky?), he had seen how she had warmed up to his presence. He had looked into her eyes like in the London ballrooms before the fire of her radiance had made him too afraid to come near her. He had nearly a year for the regret to set in and nestle deep into his chest right at the root of the inflowing vessels in his heart. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. He'd rather drown in her eyes without a chance of salvation than avoid looking at her for the fear it made him feel too much. He learned that, contrary to last summer, she wasn't too much for him but rather he couldn't get enough. A fatal discovery, of course. (Robert, she is married. You know that she is married.) But one he couldn't go back on. Cora Levinson. He needed more of her. How many more invitations could he press Mr Lowell for? Was he digging his own grave? Was he mad for actively working in the wrong direction? If his father only knew…

But he didn't know, so Robert fully let go of everything and got lost in Cora Levinson's presence. He was actually glad for Sir Howard's company. His uncle soon involved Mr Lowell in discussions, tearing Edwin with him, and leaving Cora only half-attended to Robert. Robert saw the hesitance in her eyes at the beginning. Her look often shot back to her husband. It took nearly an hour for her to accept that Mr Lowell found Sir Howard interesting enough to give him his entire attention. And then, Cora began talking to Robert freely.

"I would have never expected you," she said in a low voice. She was entirely styled in peach today. Robert noticed with amusement the tiny peach bows in the pile of curls on her head. She looked like a princess out of a book.

Robert nodded. He understood. She didn't mean today. He spoke in an equally low voice, "You left London so fast. I guess I didn't comprehend it quickly enough. So, I was glad to take the first – and to be honest, probably the only chance – to see you again, and maybe make up for the hasty farewell and the rather clumsy last days in London."

"Well, but I would have to be the one to make up for the hasty farewell. You couldn't do anything about it," she said.

"Could you though?"

She was silent for a moment, staring into the distance. When her eyes met him again, she shook her head. "I guess not."

He saw the memories of the London season flash before her eyes. And Robert thought back, too. There was this question Robert burned to ask but of course, he couldn't. He couldn't very well ask her if she would have said yes had things come differently. He couldn't ask such a question when they were sitting under her husband's roof with him just across the room. But he died to know.

"This dress looks stunning on you," he said in a soft voice instead.

Her eyes shot into her lap and she blushed.

"That's nice of you to say but I know I'm looking like a walrus in everything I put on."

"You don't," he assured calmly. She looked at him as if it surprised her that she was actually considering his words. "How far along are you?"

She smiled. "Four weeks to go." She caressed her belly and grinned inwardly.

"May I ask, uhm… how is it?" Robert asked slightly embarrassed. He realised how little he knew about babies and pregnant women and such. "I mean do you feel it? Is it heavy? And exhausting?"

She laughed, and for a moment, the little bubble around them burst and the other three men looked over to them. Cora straightened herself and regained her seriousness. But Robert knew she had lost her tension with him. She was serious for the others. For him, she had laughed.

"By now, it's definitely heavy and exhausting. I could fall asleep right now," she said.

"Oh! But shouldn't you be in bed then?" Robert was a little worried.

"No. I would be in bed all day then. And imagine being in bed all day without even being ill," she said with a smile. She hesitated a moment before she added, "And sometimes I do feel it. When it kicks."

"They do that?"

She nodded.

"Well, congratulations," Robert said because he didn't know what else to say. "On your baby I mean," he added when he saw she was holding back a laugh.

"Thank you," she whispered, a big smirk on her face.

After another huge dinner, even bigger than the last one, they settled into the sitting room. Robert could see how Edwin and Sir Howard struggled to walk comfortably with their stomachs so full of roast and filet. Edwin belched several times and didn't hide it very well. Robert was afraid his cousin would not be able to hold the tons of food in. They really hadn't held back, and Robert had watched with big eyes how the other three men nearly finished off the entire over-boarding banquet. Robert himself had been smart enough to only take a small bite here and a small bite there, still praising the delicious dishes to not upset the host. He was grateful for Cora's helpful hints last week.

In the sitting room, Cora again immediately sank into the armchair at the fireplace. And for a moment, Robert felt obliged to participate in the men's conversation. He had to hold up appearances somehow at least. But oh, how the talk about equestrian tournaments bored him when there was the subject of his growing obsession sitting right behind him. He couldn't look at her because otherwise, he wouldn't be able to form a single sentence about the royal stables.

And then, she suddenly saved him from Mr Lowell's claws and Robert was so happy he couldn't believe it.

"Lord Downton, come tell me more about Lady Rosamund. I need to know how she is doing." Her tone was resolute and no one expected him to object to this.

In fact, Mr Lowell slapped Robert's shoulder with the words, "Go, entertain the broad! She gets bored when we're talking about things she doesn't understand."

Robert could only overgo this comment at the prospect of spending time with Cora. His happy feelings muted the boiling anger about these words that man used for his own wife. Unlike Mr Lowell, Robert appreciated Cora and her company. Robert tried to not appear too eager and slowed down his steps as he approached the sofa next to her armchair. The look she gave him was deep and nearly intimate. She craved his company too, he realised. She disregarded her husband's scurrility and gave all her attention to Robert right away. Robert grew hot. Now, they were digging their graves together. Working hand in hand on their demise.

"You know I never talked a word with your sister," she said lowly, so that the others, engrossed in their own conversation, wouldn't hear.

Robert nodded. "You're very kind to cover for my little lie. I was afraid I wouldn't be invited if I couldn't show an innocent connection to you."

Cora's tone was thoughtful and her words enveloped him gently. "You really desired to see me then."

Desire is the right word, he thought. But he just answered, "I do. I did and I do."

Cora coloured from her neck upwards but she didn't break the eye contact. Robert wanted to reach out and take her hands. But he didn't. Of course, he didn't. He saw Cora gulp before she spoke again.

"But it wasn't the same back then, right?" Her eyes clouded and lost their sparkle. Robert didn't know what to say.

She continued, "You didn't like seeing me. In London, you wouldn't have invented lies to be in my company."

Ice ran through Robert's veins, beginning on the sides of his neck and spreading in his entire body.

"It was not that," he said. He already knew she wouldn't believe him.

"What was it?"

"I was… intimated. By the whole entirety of the situation. I mean why would I have sought you here on the other side of the ocean, if I didn't enjoy your company back then?"

"You came here to New York anyway. I'm the only one you know here. Of course, you'd try to get an invitation." It was a punch in the gut. Her argument was reasonable. She was right and there was nothing he could say. "I'm sorry. I'm being unfair. It doesn't matter anyway, does it? So, why bring it up." She smiled in reconciliation.

"I'd still hope you could believe me," he whispered.

Edwin suddenly called out in his boisterous behaviour, his voice loud in Robert's ears. "Robert! Mr Lowell has an entire hunting gallery. He'll show us around!"

The group of men walked slowly to the door.

"Are you interested in hunting, Lord Downton?" Mr Lowell inquired.

Robert took a deep breath, weighing his words.

"If not particularly, then Mrs Lowell will surely be happy if you keep her company," Mr Lowell continued.

Robert cheered on the inside. "I do not consider myself an expert in hunting. I will stay with the lady of the house," he said in a calm voice.

And then they went. The door closed behind them and cut off the noise of their animated discussion. For a few seconds, Robert drank in the tranquil atmosphere of it just being Cora and him.

Then her voice sounded. "Why would I believe you?" She took up their conversation right where they had left off.

"Because…" He kneaded his hands. "I have regretted nothing more – and I had to live with this regret the past year – to have let you go. Or maybe more correctly, to have pushed you away just because the intensity of what I felt for you scared me, and, in the course, allowing your father to be quicker with taking care of your engagement."

He saw the trembling in her eyes, the quiver in her lips as she was searching for the right words. Instead, she let out a shaky breath.

"I know I probably shouldn't say all that as you are married now. Successfully so." His eyes dropped to her belly. "But it is the truth. It's all quite wrong. I am here to find a bride in New York when the only one for me seems to be you."

"Don't," she breathed, shaking her head vigorously.

He took her hands. Soft and slender and nestling perfectly into his. She didn't pull back.

"I am sorry, Cora." For the first time, he said her name out loud. And he saw in her eyes how she yielded. He whispered as if the whisper would keep these words unsaid. "I was a fool, and now I am a fool in love."

"Rob… Robert," his name dropped from her lips. Tears gathered in her eyes.

Robert pulled her close; he fell onto his knees in front of her. She sat on the edge of her armchair and he kneeled right by her, pulling their clasped hands to his chest and placing his lips on hers. He didn't know what he was doing but her lips were magnetic. She didn't pull back but didn't respond either. And when Robert's bottom lip rubbed against her mouth again something seemed to snap in her and she joined wholeheartedly into the kiss.

Robert was like a possessed man. Had he known the feeling of kissing her, the intoxication it brought over him, he would have never let go of her hand after that first dance a year ago. He stuck to her lips, swallowed every sigh she emitted. He needed to explore her taste, needed her lips caressing him, needed to feel the lap of her tongue.

They created a warmth between them and Robert knew, he didn't want to miss the comfort it gave him. He was tumbling down the abyss with his eyes open, kissing another man's wife and knowing he could not be happier. He created his own tragedy. But hers too, he realised. He didn't want to be the originator of her unhappiness. He pulled back.

"I… shouldn't have…" he breathed against her lips without looking up at her.

"No. But I shouldn't either," she whispered.

And he lifted his gaze and saw her flushed face. Her pupils were dark. She was particularly beautiful like this. She watched him. Her eyes flitted over his face, seeming to map his features from up close. Then he saw a change in her expression. Her eyebrows pulled together. She shuffled back into the chair, putting distance between them. She tore her hands from his grip. Realisation dawned on her face. The realisation of what they had really done.

"No. No, no, no," she breathed. Her hands dropped onto her stomach. "We really shouldn't have," she said with determination now. "You have to go. You can't come back again."

"Cora– "

"No! I will go to bed now. I'm tired. You will leave as soon as the others are back, and you can't come back. Find a sweet girl and return to your estate."

Robert shook his head. But he knew she was right.

"It's not meant to be," she whispered and her voice shook.

He let her get up and watched her walk to the door. The insides of his chest were torn forcefully as he watched her leave. She paused in the doorway for a second, but then she left without turning back.

Robert's short time in heaven was over.