"Cora, Robert! What a surprise to see you here already!"
His arms were stretched wide, standing on top of the few stone steps leading to the wooden doors of the grand Newport house, and he grinned at them. Her brother Harold, her dour, restrained and sometimes quite grouchy little brother Harold — grinning from ear to ear! Quite a sight to behold, Cora thought. She also thought he seemed slightly nervous, somehow jittery, but maybe her mind was merely playing tricks on her.
Smiling equally as widely as her brother did, Cora took Robert's offered hand to help her out of the motorcar and then swiftly walked towards her brother, her hand still holding fast onto her husband's. It was more than unusual for Robert to see the two of them like this, so openly happy to see the other. Although, thinking of it now, he had to admit that Harold's surprise arrival at Downton a few months earlier had come close.
"Hello, Harold!" Cora replied, only then letting her strong grip of Robert's hand slacken and then releasing him completely to embrace her brother. She all but beamed at her brother when they parted. "It is so nice to see you again."
"How was your journey?" Letting go of his sister, he turned to Robert to shake his outstretched hand. "Better than last time?" he asked, openly smirking at the older man in front of him. After all, Robert had complained quite loudly and at length during dinner the last time they had arrived in Newport; before they had broken the horrible news a year ago.
Chuckling nervously as he remembered that first evening, Robert quickly replied: "Oh, yes. Far better, yes." He did not add that this time around, he did not have to worry quite as much about Cora. He still had worried plenty, naturally, but not as much as before. She was not going to die within the next three months from an illness as treacherous as the one she had been suffering from a year earlier for all he knew, and that alone eased his mind tremendously.
Cora glanced mischievously at him out of the corner of her eye. It did not surprise her that her husband was not keen on telling her brother about the truly awful last day on the ship. He had been a true trooper before then, rarely complaining and never getting sick, at least not to her knowledge. But then, in the early morning hours as Newport was almost rolling into view on the far horizon, the winds had picked up and thrown the ship this way and that as the waves had crashed against its bow and heavy rain had begun to whip mercilessly against the window panes. Robert had not even dared to venture far from the bathroom that day and had outright refused to leave the cabin. He would not even go near any of the windows, no matter how often she had asked him to. The fact that the storm had prevented them from disembarking for at least four hours had not sat well with him either, he had been quite grumpy the entire ride to the stately home they now found themselves in front of.
Sensing that he had tensed up in his discomfort next to her with this topic, Cora quickly made to change the subject. Once again beaming brightly at Harold, she asked: "How is Madeline? And how is Mother?"
"Mother is far better, she is just inside having her tea. And Madeline, well," he trailed off, not entirely willing to disclose more at the minute. "Come inside first, why don't you?"
Cora looked at Robert next to her, and the look he gave her signalled that he was just as alarmed by Harold's evasion of the topic as she was. Both of their curiosity piqued, they quickly followed him inside to one of the drawing rooms, handing their coats to a hallboy scurrying to meet them near the entrance.
"Mother, I brought visitors," Harold announced, all but barging into the bright sitting room with its yellow walls and the high ceiling decorated with intricate mouldings.
Martha sat in the same armchair she had been in the year before, her back to the door they just walked through. She seemed smaller though, sitting less upright, or at least that's what Robert thought when he was barely able to see her shoulders wrapped in a dark blue shawl peak out from behind the backrest.
The elderly woman let out an exasperated sigh and then, sounding just as unnerved, said: "Harold, we have been over this. You do not have to invite every Tom, Dick and Harry from days gone by. I am more than fine on my own."
"Oh, so I am just a Tom now?" Cora quipped quietly, a smirk playing on her red lips.
Robert looked highly amusedly first at his wife and then at his brother-in-law, who was clearly already fighting a laugh. Even before Martha was able to turn around and check if she had truly heard who she thought she did, he added with a twinkle in his eye: "And that must make me either a Dick or a Harry. Given the opportunity to choose, though, I would prefer to go by Harry, if that is quite alright. I would like to avoid any confusion at home with Dickie."
"Oh my goodness, Cora! Robert!" the elderly woman exclaimed, standing finally and facing them, supporting herself by leaning on the armchair, just like she had done the last time. "We did not expect you for another fortnight after reading Mary's telegram."
Smiling broadly, they walked closer, Cora immediately going to hug her mother.
"Well, that is because Mary will only arrive in a fortnight with everyone else. They sent us ahead. She still has some business to attend to with the estate, and Bertie has an important dinner to host. But after that, they will all join us."
Harold opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a servant entering. "Mr Levinson, he's just arrived."
He whipped around and looked at the young man with wide eyes. "Has he? Has he, indeed? Well, let's go then," he jabbered, the words coming out at a pace neither Cora nor Robert had ever witnessed from Harold, or anyone for that matter.
Before they could even ask Harold what that was about, he was up and away, following the hallboy.
"Oh, please excuse Harold's lack of manners. It has already been quite an exciting and eventful day for him and it will only get much more exciting now that he's here, I think. Come here, sit down. It's almost time for dinner anyway."
"Who is this mysterious person then? Who has arrived?" Robert asked as they both sat down on the settee next to Martha's armchair. There was not even an inch of space between them, their thighs touching and their shoulders grazing. Almost out of instinct, Robert took hold of her hand next to his and placed them on his thigh.
The simple yet loving gesture and their closeness were not lost on Martha, but she decided to bite back her witty comment. At least for now. She was still far too glad to be seeing her daughter, clearly alive and well. Smiling softly instead, she replied: "That would be Doctor Moore. It appears that the two of you arrived just in time to welcome the newest Levinson to the family either tonight or tomorrow."
"So that is why Harold was already outside when we arrived," Cora exclaimed, recalling their arrival and especially her brother's peculiar behaviour a few minutes earlier. "I was wondering about that. He seemed quite nervous, but that is to be expected in this case. How exciting!"
"Oh, it is. It has been so many years since this happened. I am not sure if I quite remember what it was like last time."
"No wonder, the last time was when Sybil was born, and that was almost 35 years ago now," Robert added quietly. His usually strong voice carefully and so very lovingly enunciated her name when he spoke, it was almost as if he was caressing his darling daughter's cheek once again, the way he had not got to in almost a decade.
Martha watched as Cora lowered her head when Robert mentioned their youngest daughter, and she saw how she seemed to scoot even closer to him, squeezing his hand reassuringly even though she needed just as much reassurance. And she also saw that Robert noticed that, she saw it in the way he instinctively pulled their hands closer to him and looked down at her, trying to look at her face that was now hidden from his vigilant eyes underneath the brim of her hat.
"Yes, quite. It would not have been this long had fate not decided differently."
Just when the topic was starting to really weigh everyone's mood, the doors to the sitting room opened once again and Harold came back, a servant walking just ahead of him.
"Mrs Levinson, dinner is ready and can be served as soon as you want."
"Thank you, Anthony. Although I believe we do need to be a bit more flexible tonight than usual. Could you set the table for two more guests and ask someone to make up the grand suite in the guest wing? Oh, and have someone take their luggage up as well, please."
"Of course, as you wish."
The young man bowed and left in a hurry, now allowing Harold to step in again as well.
"He sent you out, didn't he?" Robert asked when the younger man sat down in the second armchair opposite his mother, nervously picking at an invisible spot on his leg.
Without looking up, he mumbled: "Yes, he did. Said I would be no use and should enjoy my last few hours of freedom or something like that."
"You did not really listen to a word he said, did you?" Cora smirked at that, looking her brother over sitting next to her.
"No. How could I? She is in so much pain and I cannot do anything to help her."
"Harold, I know how this feels, I have been through the same thing, albeit quite a few years ago, and let me tell you. You truly do not want to be in there when it happens. The doctor is right, the best you can do to help is stay away until it is all over and welcome your child with open arms when they tell you the time is right," Robert tried to ease his brother-in-law, who only managed a rather weak and nervous smile in reply, still flicking at the invisible stain on his trousers.
"Listen to Robert, boy. And trust me, she does not want you in there, either. No matter what she might have said. Now come on, let us go through and have some dinner to pass the time. And do not dare to say you are not hungry again! You already did that at lunch," Martha reprimanded, her son immediately resembling a scolded schoolboy. She slowly started to get up, grateful for the hand Robert quickly offered to help before doing the same for his wife.