Why Do These Men Exist?
Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.
Those of you who may be reading "To Make a Good Match" will recognize the character of Frank Samson mentioned in this story. I'd like to think it is possible to enjoy this without reading the other one, if you so wish, however.
Cora knew she should pay more attention to their guests, as she was the mistress of Downton. And ordinarily she would be happy to do so, as she enjoyed hosting parties and meeting new people. But today, her mind was overwhelmed.
Robert's comment from last night at Rosamund's, that she didn't have anything interesting to say, still smarted. But more importantly, there was Baxter's story about Peter Coyle. Mama and even Mother would tell Cora she shouldn't let a lady's maid stay in her employment who had done time for stealing, no matter what "sob story" the maid had.
The Russian's words buzzed in the background as they examined the items Pattinson had brought out to display in their library. Mama took a particular interest in speaking to one of them. Cora forced herself to ask another how she was enjoying her tea, as a proper hostess should.
The white-haired lady nodded, looking nostalgically at the items laid on the table.
Yet, how could Cora possibly punish Baxter for doing something Cora could have easily done herself, as her mind drifted back to the focus of her worries. Something she'd very nearly had done herself. The things her former fiancé, Frank Samson had convinced Cora to do with a stroke of his hand or worse yet, a kiss made Cora sick now.
And it all culminated in trying to convince Cora to steal from her Poppa. Just as Baxter said Coyle's flirtations climaxed with convincing the maid to steal jewelry for him.
Would Cora have stolen, as Frank wished, if it had been anyone but her father? She liked to think she would know better than that, but that jerk had convinced her to do some foolish things with his touches. And Baxter's story stared Cora in the face like a mirror of what her past would have been.
Cora knew allowing her maid to stay had been the right decision.
When the Russians left, Cora realized she was already shaking her hands and thanking them for honoring Downton with their visit along with Rose. Apparently, her duties as hostess could be done so automatically now Cora barely realized she was doing them.
She was glad she had done her duty for Downton, but Cora also wished she were doing something with feeling.
OOOOOOOOOO
Baxter radiated joy that evening as she helped Cora dress for dinner, and Cora adored the happy feelings she'd provided for her maid. Even more when Baxter assisted her into her nightdress and braided her hair. The woman wore a bright smile and almost danced as she moved.
Cora wished to tell her how good it felt to have helped the other woman. It was as if she'd done something worthwhile for the first time in a long time. Her eyes met her maid's brown eyes through the mirror, as if the other woman understood when she finished the braid.
"Will that be all, milady?" Baxter said with another bright smile and joyful voice.
Cora turned around to face the other woman. She wanted to tell Baxter that she understood all too well how easy it was to be influenced by a man, but Baxter had insisted they would speak no more of Coyle or the stolen jewelry.
So, she said, "Yes, Baxter. That will be all."
Baxter curtsied and left the room.
Robert arrived a moment later, although his lack of smile, his silence, and his jerky movements as he removed his dressing gown showed he was still cross. Cora turned away from him. What right did he have to be cross, when he was the one who had said Cora had no opinions worth listening?
Her mind drifted back to Mr. Bricker who had said everything Cora spoke of was interesting. She'd felt lighter speaking to that gentleman than she had in a long time. He'd made her feel valued when they talked about the paintings. Not only that, but he was easy man for Cora to listen, with a deep but gentle voice.
These are dangerous thoughts, Cora said to herself as she felt the weight of her husband climb onto their bed. She should not be spending so much time focusing on another man, especially when she was in bed with Robert. But it felt too good not to indulge herself, especially as he turned out the light.
"I bet you were more beautiful than all of them," Mr. Bricker had said when she'd told him about her time in London. "More original. More real." When was the last time Robert had said anything like that?
She pushed the forbidden thoughts away, choosing to remember Baxter and Peter Coyle and Cora and Frank Samson instead. How did those men know she and Baxter would be perfect for their schemes? "Am I too naïve?" Cora said into the dark.
To Cora's pleasant surprise, Robert answered immediately. "Of course not. You're sweet-natured, which makes you rather trusting, but it also gives you a warm heart. Did Mama say something?"
"No," Cora said. She couldn't betray Baxter's confidence, so she said, "I was just thinking about Frank Samson."
"Samson?" Robert's voice said into the dark. "I don't remember you having much to do with that con-artist. It was mostly Rose's deal." Cora paused for several moments, wondering if she truly was as idiotic as Robert had implied in the past few days, as she didn't understand what her former fiancé had to do with Rose.
Then she remembered. Of course, Robert thought Cora was speaking of the Mr. Samson that had visited Grantham House last spring during Rose's season. He'd then stolen a letter belonging to the Prince of Wales, hoping to make money off of it. That Samson was in Robert's more recent memory, and her husband had a habit of deliberately forgetting things that were unpleasant.
Often Cora found that habit endearing, and with Frank Samson, it was probably best for him to forget, so not to provoke Robert's temper. But tonight, with the back of her mind still stinging from feeling idiotic and uninteresting, Cora shook her head firmly. "That's not the Samson I meant. I meant Frank Samson. My first fiancé."
She couldn't keep the pride out of her voice as she revealed something he hadn't understood.
"What?" Robert said, his voice immediately rising with his anger. "Cora, that jerk isn't worth your thoughts. When I think of what he tried to do to you, and your family…" His hands moved against the mattress, balling into fists. "Sometimes I wish he'd pay us a visit. Other times I know it's better that he doesn't." His voice was dark and deadly, and Cora knew exactly what would happen if Robert and Frank ever met face to face.
She would lose him if it did, and no matter how unappreciated she felt now, Cora would never want to lose her Robert. She reached her hand across the bed blindly to touch his arm. "I know."
In return, he his hand stroked her cheek in the dark.