First Come, First Serve

Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you so much for all your great support on this story! It means so much to me! I originally said this would be 10 chapters (which would make this one the second to last) but it turned out some scenes need a bit more room, so we will have 11 chapters plus an epilogue. So we will spend a bit more time together on this wild ride of a story :)

…

Part of the family was already preparing to start for the church. All of the maids were with Nellie and stuffed her into her ceremonial wedding gown. Apparently, it was a task only solved by joint effort. Robert was still getting ready as well and when for a moment, the door to his dressing room was open his sister immediately took advantage of that and popped her head into the room. She made a comment about Robert's appearance in his wedding suit but it just went past him, and then Rosamund told him she would make a beeline to look in on her soon-to-be sister-in-law and see if she had the jitters. Then they would take the carriage to the church. Robert was fixing his cufflinks and didn't want to leave his dressing room, so he thought about one thing after the other that he could ask his valet to check for him. Every delay was a welcome one.

"Are you sure these are the right cufflinks, Langston?"

"Yes, milord. These are the ones we picked out with Lord Grantham last week."

Robert huffed. "I'm not so sure. Please, check again!" He pulled off the cufflinks and threw them into Langston's hands.

"Should I…?" Langston pointed his head to the door.

"Yes, Langston. Ask Lord Grantham, please, if these are the right ones!"

Robert knew he was being a nuisance to everyone but he just couldn't leave this room and go to marry Nellie at the Downton village church. He couldn't. It was all so wrong.

Before Langston had a chance to come back, something much more important reached Robert. He was a little bit frightened when less than a minute after Langston's departure he saw the butler standing in his doorway. For a moment, he thought, this time he had overdone it with his stupid missions for Langston and he was being told off for it. But with a serious expression, O'Donnell held out a silver tray for him, a small blue envelope on it.

"A telegram for you, milord."

"Thank you, O'Donnell."

Robert took the telegram and the letter opener and pulled out the mysterious message.

"Thank you, O'Donnell," he breathed again as he took in the content. "Thank you, thank you, thank the Lord!" His voice shook when he slowly realised what the telegram said.

He turned away and sat on the side of the bed that faced the window. The telegram in his hands, he read the few words again and again. It wasn't much that stood there on the scrap of paper but it entailed a world of new possibilities. Robert was slow to grasp the meaning behind the words but when they finally sunk in, he felt like he was levitating. Such a weight has been lifted of his shoulders. He shouldn't be happy about a man's death. But his heart leapt in pure joy in his chest.

John's dead. Are you married? – Cora

For Robert, this message could only mean one thing. It didn't say it explicitly but he knew what he had long known and that was that he had to call off his wedding. Cora was free and surely her message meant she wanted him to marry her instead of Nellie, right? He read the message again to get it clear. John's dead. Are you married? – Cora. She wouldn't have sent an overseas telegram if this wasn't her intention. The message sounded as desperate as Robert felt.

He was sure. He couldn't marry Nellie today. If there was the slightest chance that he could be with Cora instead, he had to try to make it come true.

He bounded out of his room. With the letter in his hand, he skipped every other step on the grand stairs. His father would be furious. No one would see the urgency and importance in the telegram that Robert saw. But he didn't care. He had to get Cora here. Away from the horror of her late husband's death. She needed to be where she belonged and that was by his side. She needed to be here soon because even if it might take a while until they were able to get married (she was a widow in mourning now after all – how strange a thought), Robert knew the only chance he had with his parents to allow it was when his new bride was showing her face at Downton and didn't stay stuck on the faraway American continent.

He barged into the library.

"Papa!"

Langston and Lord Grantham spun around at Robert's loud entrance. Robert saw the cufflinks Langston held out between the two men reflect the golden sunlight.

"Robert! What is it that you have to make such an act?"

"I'm not getting married. Not today."

Patrick sighed. He didn't seem too surprised.

"Robert, I don't want to go over this with you again. Everything is alright with marrying Miss Walton. She is happy to become Lady Downton. You don't have to feel bad about it."

Robert vigorously shook his head. "No, no."

"Langston? Would you please prepare these cufflinks for Lord Downton? He will be with you in a minute," Patrick said to the valet. Langston quietly left the room.

"Stop this nonsense, Robert!" Patrick scolded as soon as they were alone.

"Papa! It is not all that. It is that the circumstances have changed," he waved the blue telegram. His father's brow furrowed. "I won't marry Nellie, and no one can change that. I won't go to the church today. I'm sorry, Papa, but I won't. I am waiting for someone else. I just got her telegram that contains her confirmation. We just have to wait for her to come here to Downton as soon as I send her an answer." He wove in the little lies he thought he would need. Cora's telegram was no confirmation at all, but only a three-worded question, attached to the shortest but most meaningful report Robert has ever read. But Robert had to stop this wedding now to turn Cora's message into their future.

His father looked at him as if he was out of his mind. It took him a moment to find the right words to answer. He finally uttered a simple plea, as if he was afraid, he wouldn't reach his lunatic son anymore.

"But the estate, Robert!" His hands were folded in front of his mouth. Robert had never seen him so desperate. But after all, Robert had never defied his father so resolutely.

"Don't worry, Papa! She is also an American heiress."

"But why haven't you brought her with you instead of Miss Walton?"

"Well, that would have been too complicated." Robert evaded his father's quizzical eyes.

"Why?" Patrick demanded a clear answer.

"Uhm, well. She was married back then…"

Patrick's eyes grew wide.

"No, Robert. Don't tell me– "

Robert interrupted him. "It's all alright now. Nothing improper. She is a widow now. We can marry now."

"Good Lord, how old is your flame that she's already a widow?"

"A year younger than me, Papa. She is just twenty-four."

Patrick sighed. "Robert, I can't allow you to blow off a fairly good wedding for an American widow I don't even know."

For the first time, Robert's voice was quiet. "But you do know her."

They looked at each other cautiously.

"It's Cora Levinson."

The name permeated through the room and settled between the books on the high shelves and in the downs of the throw pillows on the settees. Patrick was silent.

"I have to go send a telegram now. Please tell Nellie I am sorry. She deserves someone better."

The tears streamed freely down her face as she looked down at the small figures of her parents on the quay. She thought she saw her father lay his arm around her mother and then the tears took her vision. Her handkerchief with her initials, C.L., stitched and gifted for her wedding last year, was already wet and sticky as she had blown her nose with it quite a few times already. It was the only white piece of fabric on her body since she was dressed all in black, mourning her husband.

"See you soon," Cora whispered into the sea wind. She didn't want to say goodbye. Her parents and she had decided it was only possible for her to take the next ship if she travelled alone. Her parents would take care of staying on friendly terms with the Lowells so that nothing would go wrong with Cora's widow's part of the inheritance last minute. Gladly, her parents saw why Cora had to leave immediately. Even her mother was convinced she should take the chance she might not get so soon again as a nearly middle-aged woman. Maybe Martha was happy they would get the English title after all. Who knew what made her push Cora so enthusiastically onto the steamer.

"We'll see if we follow for the wedding or if we can just send you all the documents you need," Isidore had said.

"After all, we already attended one of your weddings," Martha added. Apparently, she found it funny to joke about Cora's many weddings.

"Oh, come on, Cora! Don't look at me like that! The fewest women manage to get married twice in two years. You have to allow me to comment on something this odd."

Cora for her part couldn't wait to get married. Properly this time because this time it would be for a lifetime. This time it would be to the man she loved. Oh, she loved him with all her heart! This time it would be right, because this time, it would finally be Robert who waited at the altar.

Since the moment she had given up the telegram, Cora was like a cat on a hot tin roof. The hours after she returned from the telegraph office dragged on. The days were like a tough mass, and Cora was stuck in there, couldn't take the next step because her feet still clung to yesterday. She tried distracting herself with the twins. She rocked first one baby and then the other until they cried because she anxiously transferred her nervosity onto them with her restless rocking.

And then there was the funeral that took her mind off of the telegram and Robert for a short while. John's family had just arrived in New York the day before the funeral and Cora didn't see much of them apart from the dark and leaden hours spent in the church and on the graveyard. She couldn't have been gladder for her parents' company that day. She didn't think she would have successfully handled John's family otherwise. Martha complied with Isidore's orders to mention Cora's fragile state and health to everyone she talked to. Isidore already planned Cora's departure to England even though there was still no response to her telegram. Cora had let her father in on the important details about the future she was planning. He asked no questions but logistical ones which relieved Cora. Having to wait for Robert's answer drove her crazy, but her father was certain a positive response would come and his calm confidence gave Cora hope. Father knew she would have to travel to England sooner rather than later if she was to get a proposal from a viscount and then there would be the need for a good explanation, that they could give John's family if she went off to England still in the period of her full mourning. That was why Isidore had Martha convince everyone of Cora's fragile state and manifest them believing Cora's need for recreation. If the time would come, they could easily explain Cora was going to England to recover from the draining effects that her late husband's death had on her. Isidore and Martha would send her to an English bathing resort and her departure would rouse no questions. What would Cora do without her father? Whenever Cora thought something was impossible, he made it possible for her.

The funeral was so exhausting that Cora didn't have to pretend anymore that her state was fragile. She felt sick and exhausted and her drawn face gladly passed for grief and impaired health when it was just that she couldn't stand John's family, the burden of the funeral, and the uncertainty of her future. But no one had to know that.

When the funeral was over, Cora had to recover from the strains it brought. The little, blue envelope came like a liberation.

Come be my wife! Take the next boat if you can. – R

She didn't need to be told twice. Lucy helped her pack her suitcases. Her father booked her tickets and promised to take care of every open business she left behind. This was what he had meant when he said she should fight for the life she wanted.

"Your children will be happier without a big name but with you in England than in the hands of the Lowells, princess. You are doing the right thing," her father had said when she had given him the permission to – if needed – sign for her to renounce any affiliation of her children to the Lowell family if that was what they demanded when they should find out she went to England to marry a viscount directly after the customary period of mourning. Cora had no doubt that her children would stay with her. There was no decision to be made.

And now she was already on the steamer to England.

Cora turned away from the railing and the tiny, blurry image of her parents as she heard the cooing of her babies. The wet nurse stood a few paces behind her on deck with the twins. She was standing behind Eugene's pushchair while Cora's maid Lucy was looking after Helen's pushchair. Cora was the tiniest bit embarrassed about her tear-streamed face but her twins immediately won her attention and left no room for embarrassment. She sidled up beside the wet nurse and looked into the pushchairs. Her heart got a little bit lighter. Eugene was sleeping and Helen was blinking up with a scrunched face because the daylight was too bright for her. She made tiny sounds of irritation.

"Come here, my darling!" Cora took Helen into her arms and was glad for the comfort of the infant pressed to her chest. The twins were her lifeline and would help her endure the long journey without going completely insane.

The ship's horn tooted loudly. Eugene woke up and the wet nurse tried to calm him down. Cora rocked Helen soothingly in her arms. They were leaving the harbour basin, and Cora tried to wave one last time at her parents but she didn't see anything because other people had taken her place at the railing.

"The adventure begins," Lucy said. A conspiratorial smile played around her lips.

"I am glad you are coming with me," Cora said. "Both of you," she turned to the wet nurse. "I know you wouldn't have to come with me all this way but it makes it so much easier for me. I appreciate you."

The wet nurse, visibly older than Cora and Lucy, smiled. Cora never saw her smile so genuinely.

"I wouldn't have planned it but I'm not opposed to an adventure. I never thought my life would change much anymore but now I'm seeing England. That's quite something," the wet nurse said.

"It is, right?" Lucy acceded to the other woman.

…

The journey was long and it gave Cora time to think for the first time after the hurried departure from her old life. What would await her in England? Robert apparently wanted to marry her. On a whim, if that was possible. But what would it be like to turn up at his parents' estate? Would they welcome her? What did they think of his plan to marry her instead of Nellie? His telegram didn't reveal much about the state of his former engagement. Cora knew, Nellie and he were to be married in September. John died midst of the month. Apparently, Robert thought it possible to marry Cora. But how things looked with his prior fiancée Cora didn't know. She would find out when she was there. But the guilty feeling of taking what belonged to another woman gnawed at her the whole time. And how would she spend the remaining months of her mourning? Would the Crawleys let her live with them until Robert and she could finally get married? Cora hoped she would be able to see Robert before they could get married. She wasn't sure if she could survive for months alone in a foreign country if she wasn't allowed to see him. And then there were the children. What would they say about her twins? She couldn't marry Robert if her twins weren't accepted. She loved Robert dearly. She pined for him since she first saw him. She lusted after him since he kissed her. But her children were her first priority. He knew she had been pregnant. He was aware he wasn't marrying a childless woman, wasn't he?

But all the brooding didn't help anything. She would see the state of things once she got there.

On the fifth day of their passage, Cora got ill. At first, she thought she was merely heavily seasick. But the retching didn't stop and Lucy looked at her more and more worried.

"I think you're having a fever." The touch of Lucy's hand on her brow was only a distant sensation.

Cora felt ghastly and her stomach wouldn't stop emptying itself into the bucket Lucy held beside the bed. When the nausea paused for a moment, Cora fell into vivid fever dreams. The dreams were inhabited by strange creatures. A fat waddling duck the size of a horse-drawn carriage was going after Cora, and sweat ran down her face when she wasn't able to run fast enough from the monstrous duck. The next moment she was caught in a basin full of eel-like fish with wide-opened mouths. Their long throats were covered in rows of sharp teeth. Cora was paddling helplessly as the fish came closer and closer and the salty water splashed into her mouth, threatening to drown her. Lucy's soothing hand brushed a fresh cloth over Cora's brow and relieved the images for a while. Then Cora found herself in a wide bed. The eel-like fish were gone and she turned around to see Robert lying in bed next to her. She was happy and relaxed. She put her hand on his arm. As he rolled over to her, he suddenly turned into a big, red lobster. Cora screamed but no sound came out as the huge, sharp claws clacked nearer and nearer to her throat.

When she woke up, she realised it must have been the shrimp salad that had given her food poisoning. She should have listened to her gut telling her to keep her hands off all the seafood that was being served. She should have learned that by now.

After her wild dreams ended, her illness slowly but finally cleared up.