"I honestly do not know why you keep insisting that I cannot walk wherever you want to take me!" Cora protested as Robert manoeuvred the wheelchair she was sitting in through the hall and into the drawing room, just like he had done the past few months. Although lately, he had more often than not simply held her arm for stability as she walked increasingly longer distances all throughout the house on her own with as little help as possible — and he usually had an expression of pride and joy on his face when she did. They had been slowly working on her condition for the past few months, and Robert had taken even more care of her than before. Ever since he had come home from London to find Doctor Clarkson with her, he had rarely left her to her own devices. He had been most careful and, more often than not, Cora had felt like he was holding her back in her pursuit of recovery. However, she knew without even a shadow of a doubt that his care and attention stemmed from nothing but love, and so she let him have things his way, albeit begrudgingly. After all, she wanted the time with him the doctor mentioned just as badly as he wanted it with her; his pleading and begging seemed to have had a lasting impression on her — as did him beating himself up over it the three separate times she had to tell him that Baxter had to put the salve Doctor Clarkson left with her to use after he allowed her to push herself just a bit too far.
"I know you are getting stronger with each passing day, but it is too far for you to walk, still," Robert gave back quietly. And she could hear the soft smile in his voice.
Hearing this only further infuriated and confused Cora, who huffed in response, her eyebrows knitting together — almost as if she were a sulking child. The sound caused Robert to chuckle lowly, he simply could not take her seriously whenever she tried to voice her discontent that way. He never had and never would. It was only good that he could not look into her face and see her expression or he would not have been able to contain his amusement.
His insistence that she should sit down in the wheelchair and let him wheel her around the abbey when he had come to collect her after her afternoon nap had made her scoff in discontent. Eventually, however, she had given in and let him have things his way and now that they were outside she was even more confused than before. With the help of Albert, who had previously been instructed to follow them to the drawing room, the Earl had carefully lifted the wheelchair through the open glass doors onto the gravel path ahead. She had thought he was merely coming to take her to the library for their afternoon tea and made a detour or took a wrong turn by mistake when he entered the drawing room with her. But then when they had crossed the room, she quickly realised that his steps had far too much purpose in them for him to have mistaken the drawing room for the library. She had also not seen even a trace of her daughters or grandchildren in the abbey and she had not heard any of their voices either, which was very odd. They had all said they would be there for that day when she had asked them. And there had also been no trace of tea, or cake, or sandwiches anywhere, or anything like it for that matter. It was tea time, was it not?
Just for a second, as her husband pushed her along further and further away from the house, she closed her eyes and listened. She listened intently to the crunch of the gravel her husband's steps elicited as he pushed her forward towards the destination still unknown to her, and she listened to his slightly laboured breathing, too. She listened intently to the way the slight summer breeze rustled the leaves on the trees nearby, it almost sounded like a gentle whisper to her. A whisper in the branches that was reciprocated by the flapping of wings somewhere above, an occasional bird's cry suspending the tranquillity surrounding them. It all sounded heavenly to her ears. It was almost as if she were hearing these sounds for the first time all over again in her life. Cora had not been outside like this for months, she had never gone further than a few steps away from the doors leading her back into the sanctuary of her home. She had also refused to be wheeled around the estate by Robert; she had had no particular interest in being seen outside like this. Not even his argument of who could possibly see them who was not aware of her illness already seemed to have had any effect, and so she had stayed inside.
But now, she found herself squinting her eyes, the warm June sun beaming down on her and its rays warming her cold cheeks as she relished in the feeling. The tranquillity of the nature surrounding them as they walked along had relaxed her immensely, and she had realised that Robert would not tell her anything as long as she was behaving as morosely as she had before. And she knew it was not becoming of her, either.
Craning her head back to look into his face, she calmly inquired: "Where are you taking me, Robert?"
He had aged considerably in the past year. His hair had become whiter and thinner yet, his skin looser and his wrinkles deeper. He had begun to put on some weight again since their return from London a few months ago, the stress he had been under finally subsiding at long last, and his appetite returned little by little. Now more than ever, he reminded her of the man she had met so many years ago. He had changed and yet had stayed the same. He looked the same to her as all those years ago, he still had that boyish charm, that enchanting smile and those kind, twinkly eyes.
Those very same light-blue eyes were now directed at her, slight mischief and mirth reflected in them, as he replied: "You will see soon, my darling."
With a nervous but content smile, Robert walked on in the direction of Downton's rose garden, pushing his wife's wheelchair as carefully across the gravel as he could. His reply, however, did not put her at ease. It only confused her more. Why wouldn't he just say where he was taking her?
When she finally realised that the rose gardens were indeed where they were headed, a wide smile crept on her still quite emaciated face. She was getting stronger every day, Robert was right in saying that, and she hated that he was fussing so much about how far she could walk before it would be too much for her to take. She would surely know better what she was capable of and strong enough for and what not. This once, however, he had been right. The way to the rose gardens would have been too far for her to walk on her own yet. And she had promised him not to over-exert herself after the doctor had to come to the abbey a few weeks ago; a promise she had already broken three times before.
When the gates to the gardens were just around another hedged corner, Robert stopped his leisurely stroll. "We're here. You will manage from here, I am sure," he smiled gently as he rounded the wheelchair and stood before her, both of his strong and steady hands stretched out for her to take in order to help her up.
Carefully, she took his offered hands and slowly stood up, holding on to him. It was still a foreign feeling, getting back on her feet on something that wasn't wood or stone, but she enjoyed it all the more. The soft grass underneath her feet almost made her feel like she was floating and for a few seconds, she simply closed her eyes and revelled in this feeling. Once she stood steadily, she smiled up at her husband of almost four decades and together, arm in arm, they started walking around the corner.
She clung to his arm, holding on with both hands, and they walked agonisingly slowly towards their destination. But the fact alone that they were walking towards his surprise for her together made Robert happier than he recalled ever feeling within the past year, and he could not stop himself from smiling proudly as the building slowly crept into his view.
Cora's sight, though, was limited to the narrow path they were following. She was concentrating far too much on putting one foot securely in front of the other on the gravel to look up and see the first glimpses of the folly's roof. "Robert, why have you brought me all the way out here? Tea in the library would have been more than enough," she said slightly breathlessly only for him to hear, right before they were about to round the last corner keeping it hidden from her view.
Robert stopped their stroll, holding her close to him while she tried to catch her breath a little, grateful for this quick pause. His head turned to look at her small form clinging to his arm and with the hint of a smile, he said: "I could not very well bring it inside, Cora. And the weather is so nice today, that I thought we would enjoy our tea outside."
"Bring what inside, darling?"
"Well, see for yourself," smiled Robert, gently pulling her the last few steps around the corner so that she finally had an unobstructed view of his surprise for her.
She was in awe. He saw her do a fantastic double-take when she realised just what her husband had been talking about. She was taking in the imposing structure standing tall ahead of them, and her mouth opened slightly at the sight before her. Cora could not believe her eyes, she was utterly speechless as her gaze wandered over the red bricks, the sandy white stone and the delicate green vines beginning to grow that made up the folly ahead of her. She was completely and utterly in awe. And so was he if he was being honest, even though he had seen the folly countless times already during its construction and since the builders completed their work a couple of weeks ago.
Suddenly, though, the sound of people clapping filled their ears and Cora was transported back to reality. Looking around slightly confusedly, she searched for the source of the sound. To their right, she finally caught sight of who was applauding — it was their entire family. Edith and Bertie were smiling at her, joined by Rosamund and Mary, and the grandchildren were all there, too. They were joined by Tom and Lucy, with Isobel and Dickie standing close by.
And then there were two more faces. She almost wanted to ask Robert to pinch her, they could only be figments of her imagination. There was no way they were here, in the rose gardens of Downton Abbey.
Slowly, they walked on and she could barely keep her excitement and pleasant surprise inside. She was on the verge of being overcome by her feelings, and Robert with all his silent encouragement was not exactly helping matters.
"I don't understand. What is all of this?" Cora said when they reached the rest of the family, her eyes already filled with tears.
"Happy Birthday, Mama!" Mary simply replied, the rest of the family echoing the sentiment as Cora looked around at everyone once more.
Rosamund, Mary, Edith, Bertie, Tom, Lucy, Isobel, Dickie, and all of their grandchildren. And there in the middle of the bunch, they were standing. She still couldn't believe her eyes, but they were truly there. Next to her daughters and their husbands, they both stood. Her brother and his wife.
She had no idea how she ended up in that situation, but she found herself wrapped in her brother's arms as he held her carefully, trying not to hurt her. Where he tried to be gentle, she only clung to him, holding on for dear life. The tears she had been trying to fight off were flowing freely now, there was no way for her to keep them at bay any longer. It was not at all ladylike and it would have earned her a stern scolding from Violet had she ever borne witness to this sort of behaviour she would have classified as undignified, but Cora did not care enough about the propriety of her showcase of emotions to change it. This was only family here, they would surely understand. This was a hug she never thought would happen again, not after their goodbye half a year ago in that freezing cold winter weather at the harbour in Newport.
When brother and sister finally parted again, Cora was quickly accompanied to one of the chairs that were put up on the lawn in the garden around a table. Her family was all assembled there, and it meant an awful lot to her that they were; so much so that she had already momentarily forgotten about the folly her husband had built for her. While everyone was looking at her, Robert handed her a glass of champagne and then kept standing close next to her.
His hand resting on her shoulder and raising his glass with the other, he said: "I know that I said it before, that marriage is a lottery and that I have drawn the winning ticket. I am very aware of that. But I fully believe in my earlier words, even more so today than probably ever before, because I was granted a full second chance. I honestly never thought we would be here today to celebrate another year of life with my darling Cora, but she has defied the odds, and she will continue to do so with all of our help, I am sure. Without wanting to make an exorbitantly and quite possibly mostly pointless speech, I only want to say this: Happy Birthday, my dearest Darling. May this folly be a constant reminder of my everlasting, undying love for you. May it stand here proudly in your honour even long after we are both gone. May it be used to one day remember us and those who were and are so dear to us. To my darling wife, my Cora!"