Work Text:
She did not like to use the excuse. After all, Mama already had enough to say about how insufficient Cora was already. More often than not, she would push aside any hurt feelings or pain or tiredness and push through as best she could. The moment she let herself show any sign of weakness, she could count on being chided for her American inadequacy.
But today was different. Cora was tired and a bit grumpy and she wasn't going to let her mother-in-law's low opinion of her get in the way of what she wanted. She was well into her seventh month of pregnancy and her husband was sick with the flu. She would not let the pointless traditions and rules of Downton Abbey get in her way today.
Cora put on a good show of being quiet and wan through the afternoon. When their tea arrived, Mama insisted that Cora have some sandwiches to build up her strength. She took a few onto her plate and, when Mama was focused on pouring the tea, Cora hid them in a napkin and in the pocket of her frock. For not the first time, Cora was pleased that she had talked the seamstress into putting pockets into the dresses that were made to accommodate her pregnancy. Robert had complained about the expense of a whole new wardrobe for his wife, but she reminded him that she was carrying his heir in her body and he relented. Besides, Cora asked for so little. When she did make a request, Robert was usually happy to oblige.
"Mama, I think I should lie down," Cora said, once the sandwiches were securely hidden away.
Violet Crawley gave a withering look at her son's wife. "If you must," she conceded. "I suppose I shall have tea on my own, then."
"I am sorry for leaving you, but I just worry about doing anything to upset the baby. Doctor Clarkson told me to listen to what my body needed," Cora reminded her.
"Rest well," Mama said, waving her hand in a dismissing manner.
Cora nodded and hurried away. She had one hand on her pocket to hide her stolen goods and one hand on her enormous belly as she made her way out of the library and to the stairs. She saw one of the footmen carrying some silver to the dining room, and she stopped him. "Jonathan, could you please have Smithson bring a tea tray with two cups up to my room? And please be sure everyone knows not to let Lady Grantham find out," she asked quietly.
"Of course, milady," the young man replied. He put down what he was carrying and went right down to the servant's hall to find Cora's lady's maid and give her the instruction.
She waited in her bedroom for the tea tray, and then told Smithson she would ring when she was finished. Perhaps she should have asked her maid to undress her, but Cora had sandwiches in her pockets that she did not want her maid to find. And besides, despite what she told Mama, Cora had no intention of lying down to rest.
Once the door had closed and Cora was on her own, she retrieved the sandwiches and unwrapped them from the napkin and put them on the tea tray. Then, as carefully as she could, Cora carried the tray through her bedroom and gently opened the door into Robert's bedroom.
Technically it was still his bedroom. But they'd taken to calling it the dressing room recently. For the last year or so, he had slept every single night, all night, in Cora's bed. She was happier about that fact than anything else in all the world. Even when they did not make love, he would dismiss his valet and come through the dividing door into her bedroom and climb into bed with her. She fell asleep every night with her beloved husband holding her, and she woke each and every morning to his loving kisses.
But Robert had caught the flu. He was sneezing and slightly feverish and utterly miserable. They called for Doctor Clarkson the first day he'd started feeling ill, and they had confessed to him that they slept in bed together. Both Robert and Cora had blushed furiously at the admission, but they were concerned with Robert being sick and so close to Cora in her delicate condition. And sure enough, Doctor Clarkson advised that they should sleep apart until Robert was well again. He would be tossing and turning and coughing, and Cora needed more rest than ever while she was with child. The last two nights, they'd been apart. And Cora hated it.
"Robert," she called softly as she opened the door.
The lamp was lit and the curtains open, thankfully, and Robert was sitting up in bed. He looked much better. He looked at her carrying a tea tray with confusion. "Cora, what are you doing?"
"I wanted to have tea with you," she said. "Move your legs aside, please."
He did as she asked, and Cora placed the tea tray down beside his lap. Then, as gracefully as she could manage with the giant balloon of her abdomen, she sat up on the end of the bed, facing him.
"I brought some sandwiches for us. I wasn't sure if you had eaten or not. I made excuses to your mama and snuck up here with them," she told him.
Robert chuckled at that, and the fact that it did not cause a coughing fit was a very good sign. "How did you get Mama to let you go?"
"I told her I wanted to lie down," she said, putting her hand on her belly.
"Are you feeling alright, truly?" Robert asked, suddenly quite concerned.
Cora nodded. "I am. I'm just a bit hungry," she said, reaching out to take one of her pilfered sandwiches.
Robert poured the tea for each of them as Cora took a few ravenous bites. "You're getting crumbs all over my bed," he complained.
"Perhaps we should call for Doctor Clarkson to see if you're well enough to have this no longer be your bed," Cora suggested.
"You'd want me back in yours?" he teased.
She gave him a gravely serious look. "Robert, I can hardly sleep by myself anymore. I know I'm a frightful mess while I'm pregnant and I take up more space than I used to, but I don't think I'll be able to have a proper night's sleep until I have you back beside me."
Robert smiled softly at her and reached out for her hand. When she gave hers, he gave it a gentle squeeze. She knew that, if he could reach without pulling her and risking spilling crumbs and tea all over the bed, he would have kissed her hand. "I think perhaps it would be best if we call for Doctor Clarkson. Since you've been feeling tired and needed to lie down during tea. And he can have a look at me while he's here," he reasoned.
Cora grinned. And if she weren't worried about the crumbs and the possibility that he might still be sick, she would have crawled over the bed to throw herself into his arms. As it was, they'd have to wait a little bit longer for such delights.