AN: So this is part 2 of the Spanish Flu request. This one is from Robert's perspective. I have to say I found this half much harder. It did give me a chance to extend the kiss scene from the series 2 Christmas Special though, so that was nice. Any recognisable dialogue from the show is not mine.
As ever, if you have any prompt/scene requests, leave them in the reviews or PM me at any time.
Please leave a review, they keep the creative juices going!
The dining room is empty. He sighs, not missing the upturn of Carson's eyebrows at the sound.
Breakfast time was one of his favourite times of day. He liked the gentle conversation with his girls as they sat around the table. He liked knowing what their plans for the day were and telling them of his.
There were the letters to read, and the newspaper and those were not always pleasant. But on the whole, he liked breakfast. Except at the moment. At the moment, he hated it because he was breakfasting alone.
The girls were in Ireland. For the wedding.
He had already survived two lonely breakfasts since they had left, but despite this he wasn't any more prepared for this one.
Today was the day. Sybil's wedding day.
He had given up trying to understand why Sybil would throw herself away in such a fashion. Through much persuasion by Mary, Edith and Cora, he had let the topic go. Sybil has made her choice and they would live with it – she hadn't given them much choice in that. Cora reasoned with him that Sybil was in no way unhappy (from what she could tell from her letters) and seemed to be genuinely in love with Tom (yes, she had even started to call him Tom).
He stares down at his plate of food as he moves the chair to take a seat. He sighs again, the emptiness of the table stretching before him. He had never much liked eating alone, but since Jane it filled him with memories that despite trying, he had been unable to rid from his mind. It was in the dining room, when he had eaten lunches and breakfasts alone – his family too busy to eat with him – that they had begun their friendship. A friendship that had led him to behave in a most ungentlemanly way towards her and had dented his marriage in a way he wasn't sure how to recover from.
"Good morning." He turns at the sound of Cora's voice. "I thought I might join you for breakfast." Carson leaves the room in search of another set of crockery and cutlery for the table. She stands there for a second and they just look at each other. He sees her steely resolve straighten her spine and harden in her eyes. It was a look she usually used on his mother. "I thought it might be nice, to spend some more time together whilst the girls are away and I know you don't like to eat your breakfast alone."
Guilt washes over him as she steps towards the sideboard to put some food on a plate. He had wanted a companion, but he wasn't sure Cora was any better than his own thoughts at the moment. She was so attentive recently it only served to make the guilt he felt so much worse. She was trying to be kind. She was trying to show how much she cared. All the time.
She hadn't asked what had happened. Jane had not been mentioned between them. She had awoken from her flu ridden delirium and wanted his forgiveness. Little did she know how little forgiving he had to do compared to her. Once she had regained her strength she had been more attentive than he can remember her being, even in the months following his return from war. It was becoming almost suffocating, having her being so perfect when he was so undeserving of it.
He had assumed she knew nothing about Jane. But as the weeks has passed by he was becoming more convinced that she did. Every time he went to mention it she would cut him off, or change the topic, or worse still, second guess his thoughts and apologise for neglecting him, again. Why else would she interrupt him so, unless she knew and didn't want to hear about it?
"Carson, could you leave us?" Robert looks up from his plate, startled by her voice beside him. When had she sat down? When had Carson reappeared? How long had he been lost in his own thoughts? Too long. He hadn't even answered her. The butler disappears from the room.
"Thank you, for joining me for breakfast. You're right. I don't like eating breakfast on my own." He glances up from his plate, taking another forkful of food. He chews slowly. She does the same.
They eat for a few minutes in silence. He can tell she's thinking about how to phrase something. She was assessing him, mulling over his current mood and trying to determine the best approach. She'd always been so good at that. Grasping the dynamic of a situation and then working it to her advantage. It was why she excelled at society dinners, she always knew just who to sit next to whom and which combinations to avoid because she was perceptive about people's characters. She knew his better than anyone else.
"Can you believe it? Our youngest daughter getting married today." No he could not believe it. In so many ways he could not believe it at all. But she knew that. He doubted that was the reason she has mentioned it. She takes a sip of tea, eyeing him over her cup. When he doesn't respond she carries on, as he knew she would. "It seems so strange. Sometimes, it feels like only yesterday that we got married."
"Indeed." She was right, sometimes it did. When she looked at him in a certain way, or blushed a certain way, it would take him right back to those first few months of marriage. Sometimes even before that, to their courtship. It didn't feel like that at the moment though. Their marriage felt old and tired at the moment. Older and more tired than them.
"It was a happy day. I hope Sybil finds as much joy as I have." He did hope that Sybil would be happy. Of course he did, even if he thought she had made it difficult for herself. What he is definitely less convinced about was whether Cora would feel such joy in her marriage from now on. He just couldn't see the way forward. Cora could apologise and coax him into kissing her as many times as she liked, and he could say he loved her, because he did. He really did. But that didn't stop the dark cloud of regret and disappointment in himself hanging over him.
"Only time will tell."
"I thought I might walk with you today?" He meets her determined gaze. She was completely determined to converse with him properly. They hadn't yet returned to their regular morning walks. Only in the last month had Cora fully regained her strength and they had not yet returned to their accustomed routine. He felt bad that he had not been more proactive in seeking her out, but the guilt had weighed too heavily. As he had watched her slowly regaining her strength it had been both a blessing and a curse. She was alive which was something that had looked for a brief time very uncertain, but the slow recovery from her illness was a constant reminder of how badly he had behaved.
"I'm got to visit one of the tenants this morning. Maybe this afternoon?"
"You can't avoid me forever Robert." A sort of anger simmers in his chest. She disliked him avoiding her, but she hadn't been quite so bothered about avoiding him during the war.
"I'm not avoiding you. I'm busy this morning."
"Can I not come with you to visit the tenant?" He swallows before taking another mouthful of food. Thinking it over. She really was trying, and he should just say yes. It would be easier that way and maybe the time in a different environment would help him to return to their old conversations.
"If you would like, I can't really stop you."
"Robert!" Her tone is a combination of a sigh and an exclamation. She puts her cutlery down with a small clink to the edge of her plate. "Please. I would simply like to spend some time with you. I meant what I said the other night." He blanches slightly, the conversation from last week had not left him alone. She had demanded he kiss her properly. That was when he had decided that he thought she might know about Jane. "I am sorry I neglected you. I am simply trying to make amends."
"I don't think you realise how much there is to amend."
"I've more idea than you know Robert." He swallows and puts his own cutlery down as well. Maybe the moment had come to confess. He had tried to the other night, but she had stopped him. When he glances up to meet her gaze she is slowly shaking her head. "Please, I don't want to discuss it. I don't think you do either."
"But Cora, what I-"
"What you've done doesn't matter." She hesitates. "Well, it's not what really matters." She reaches her hand across the table and squeezes his. "What matters is us bridging the gap we've let open between us. I'd like to start with a walk."
"And the visit to Mr Drake's farm?"
"That as well." He smiles, or rather he tries to. He feels the edges of his mouth curve upwards for a brief second before the enormity of it overcomes him again. How was he possibly move forward? How can he look Cora in the eyes and truly cherish her again when mere months ago he had been filled with lust for another woman? The shame and embarrassment would take much more than a few weeks to disappear.
"Let's end on a happy note Robert." She holds out her hands and he takes them. The comfort they bring him is almost immediate. He doesn't hesitate, he takes her hands and tugs her towards him, his lips finding their place on hers. When he pulls back her eyes are shining. He smiles.
It had been a long time coming, his acceptance of what had happened. He would always regret it and he would always look back and reflect on how terribly weak he had been. But he would also look back and recognise what he had learnt. Marriage needed constant work, something he had briefly forgotten, and a few moments of lust were not worth the heartbreak they brought with them afterwards. He would have been much better directing his anger at Cora's behaviour at her rather than directing his thoughts towards Jane. The latter option had been easier, but it had not been right. Getting angry or more forceful about his discontent with Cora would have probably solved his problems more quickly.
"Are you alright?" He lifts her hand to his mouth and kisses her knuckles, before pressing her rings softly. It mirrored so closely the words she had spoken all this month ago, as she had laid white and fragile from the flu.
"I'm fine. I was just thinking about you."
"Golly. What have I done to deserve that?" She jests, her eyes dancing with laughter. He swallows, there was too much truth in her words for him, they reflected his recent inability to think about what she had been doing. All the wonderful work she had done during the war. She might have neglected him, something she willingly admitted to, but he had been wrong to be jealous of her role running the convalescent home. He had needed occupation and he had been irritated by Cora's ability to find some for herself when he could not.
"You did brilliantly with the convalescent home." She squeezes his hands, her head tilting slightly to one side.
"Do you mean that?"
"Yes." She releases his hands before brushing them gently over the lapels of his jacket. He lets her carry on as she smooths her hands up his shirt front and across his bow tie. He doesn't flinch when her finger gently traces at the skin just beyond his collar. "Does this mean you've forgiven yourself?"
"I'm not sure that will ever be entirely possible. But I have been reminded that we all make mistakes."
"Are you eluding to Mr Pamuk?" He watches her face contort and he knows she is wondering if his transgression had reached as far as Mary's erroneous love affair.
"I never – "
"I know." She smooths her thumb along the length of his jawbone. She moves to drop her hand, but he reaches up and takes it, holding it in his again.
They just look at each other. Three decades of understanding flowing between them. He doesn't ask her how she knows that he hadn't gone that far, she hadn't had too. She had just known, just as he would have known if it had been her.
She had forgiven him without knowing what there was to forgive. She had made that plain from the start. He would never truly forgive himself. He had behaved badly, but he could do right by Cora from this day forward. He had learnt in the last few months, slowly, how to live with his mistake. He still loved Cora. Goodness, he had loved her for three decades. That had never changed. It never would.
He leans forward and for the second time that day, the second time in many months, he is the one to initiate the kiss. She doesn't stop him when he pushes her lips apart. She tastes of wine and Cora. So deeply of Cora. He tugs her hand gently, coaxing her body against his. She resists, and drops her mouth from his.
"We should go to bed." He knows she is right but he is reluctant to let go of her. The distance to their bedroom, and the time needed to get ready for bed seemed like too much of a long time. "It won't take long." He smiles as she pulls him in the direction of the door.
"Can you read my mind?" She laughs.
"Sometimes I think I can. But this time I was simply voicing my own thoughts." She smirks at him over her shoulder. "The servants are occupied at their ball Robert. We won't be having their help tonight even if we did want it."
"That's very cheeky my dear."
"Nothing new there darling, as you well know." Her voice catches the words with her American twang. Her accent was always more apparent when she was excited. He catches her hip as she reaches forward to open the library door. The music wafts through the ajar door. She stops, turning to look at him, glancing down at the place his hand rests. He tugs her gently back towards him.
"Robert?" Her tone is questioning, warning. She was not going to let him have his way with her here, but that isn't his intention.
"Dance with me." He doesn't give her a chance to answer, gently moving his hand to the small of her back and pulling her towards him. They don't dance to the music, not really, they just gently sway around in circles. Her hand slides more to his upper arm than his shoulder. She leans more heavily against him and adjusts her neck as if to rest it on his shoulder. He leans forward and presses his forehead to hers. He sees her blush and he smiles at the simplicity of it. Holding her close and loving her in such a basic way was possibly the most gratifying thing about their marriage and it had been missing for too long.