It was a shock to Cora when she realized the lateness of the hour. Between long-neglected personal correspondence, pleas on her as the hospital president, and the ongoing pressures of managing the house, Cora had spent the evening wonderfully lost in work. The house was dark and quiet as she made her way from the library to her bedroom, fingers kneading gently at the muscles in her neck as she went. She felt a twinge of guilt knowing Baxter had been waiting for her to ring and wished she had thought to send word to her maid that she would be fine to handle herself before bed.
She knew it irked Robert, in a vague way, that she was so busy. However unlike the last time she found her days filled with purpose, she was sure to make ample time for him. Especially now that he was allowed some freedom from his sickbed. They walked together daily, an old habit once lost to the demands of war, and discussed this, that and the other thing while they meandered over the estate. He especially seemed to enjoy when she recounted her daily battles with his Mama. Surprising no one, she did not take the usurpation her power lying down. It had become a source of pride, he said, that she was turning out to be such a strong adversary for Violet. That years of dealing with her mother-in-law had forged in her a spine of steel. He grinned and chuckled when she told of the way her mother-in-law had become nearly apoplectic when she discovered that Cora was to have an office at the hospital.
"It's barely the size of a closet but golly, Robert. You'd have thought I'd been presented with a golden throne!"
He had laughed so heartily that he was forced to lean on her arm for support as his helpless giggles turned into violent coughing. She had been momentarily alarmed until she realized it was mirth that crinkled the corners of his eyes, not pain.
She was pleased to see her husband's stamina returning and the circles under his eyes disappearing. She cherished their afternoons together even more, now, as she had so recently faced the very real possibility of never strolling the grounds with him again.
Their bedroom (it had long since ceased to be her room) was dark and lit only by the fireplace when she finally rang for Baxter. During his convalescence it had become routine for Baxter to undress her in Robert's dressing room. However at such a late hour it was sure to be terribly chilly. Robert slept soundly, his face buried in his pillow and when Baxter silently opened the door Cora held her fingers to her lips.
Ever the soldier, Baxter merely nodded and silently moved about the room gathering Cora's night things. It was cozy with the sound of the fire and Robert's deep even breathing and, for a moment, Cora allowed her eyes to drift shut. But then Baxter's fingertips on her shoulder had Cora rising from her dressing table and standing, dropping her chin to her chest for Baxter to undo the delicate buttons at the neck.
Baxter was efficient and it wasn't but a minute that she tapped Cora's ankle, a signal for her to step out of her skirt. A shiver rippled over Cora's skin as she stood in her underthings.
It was warm in the bedroom, the fire was stoked to a full roar and Robert's gentle snoring punctuated the crackling of the fire. Noting nothing out of the ordinary she closed her eyes again and waited for Baxter's unspoken instructions.
The shiver came again and Cora had the distinct feeling she was being watched. She looked up sharply to her husband's form on the bed but couldn't make out anything in the dancing shadows. A palm at her waist and Cora turned away from the bed while Baxter undid the lacings of her corset. The girls were constantly on her to abandon the old encumbrance but Cora wasn't quite sure she was ready to become quite so modern yet. Still, she took her first deep breath of the day as the encasing slid down her sides to pool at the floor. True, she didn't have Baxter lace her in as tightly as in years past but it was still a relief and Cora whimpered a bit.
The form on the bed shifted behind Cora. The rustle had Cora glancing over her shoulder and she was quick enough to catch a glimmer in the shadows. The tiniest reflection of the firelight and she knew, without a doubt.
The scoundrel.
With a nod of her head in the direction of her nightgown, Cora glanced over her shoulder once more before bending exaggeratedly at the waist to fetch the abandoned corset and toss it over the chaise. Then she held her arms up over her head as Baxter gathered the material of her camisole and drew it up and away. This time when Cora turned, he didn't bother to feign sleep.
His eyes glinted in the inky darkness, steadily watching. They would be dilated; the deep pupils drowning out the blue. She knew every subtle shift in those eyes, from anger to arousal and everything in between. She bit her lower lip to smother a grin when he shifted once more against the sheets. The full-length mirror to her left was giving him a tantalizing 360 view of her as she stood unabashedly and waited for her maid.
"M'lady." Baxter murmured and Cora dipped her head for the nightgown, shifting her hips to allow the material to fall silently to the floor. Setting herself at her dressing table, Cora kept her eyes on the shadow of Robert's head as she removed her earrings. Efficiently Baxter unclasped her necklace and Cora help up her right hand for Baxter to remove her bracelet and then begin to methodically remove the pins in her hair. Cora closed her eyes and hummed appreciatively as Baxter massaged her scalp gently, easing some of the ache that came with the myriad of pins. Sometimes Cora wished she had the gumption to cut off all her hair as Mary had. But then her beloved curls tumbled down her back and Robert couldn't quite contain his gasp.
"That will be all, Baxter." Cora murmured and Baxter nodded once before gathering clothing and leaving the room silently. It might have been the light but Cora was sure the woman's cheeks were rosier than normal.
"You've scared another maid. You're a lecherous man, Robert Crawley." She meant to say it aloud in a normal voice but it came out a throaty whisper. She was unwilling to break the lazy spell that had settled between them even as she sought to admonish him.
"Won't be the last. She's made of sterner stuff, your Baxter." He rasped but didn't move, content to watch her reflection in the mirror as she rubbed lotion over her arms.
Cora hummed agreement and tied her hair back with a ribbon.
"It's fascinating to watch you undress." Robert's voice was still heavy with sleep. Cora snorted delicately - he had always been a fan of the undressing. Even after 30 years of marriage, he said it was all too rare an occurrence to take for granted. "No, I mean it. To watch the countess disappear and the woman emerge."
Cora chuckled, tickled by his sleepy musings. "You're awfully poetic at midnight."
"It's true." He insisted, but his voice was honey and bourbon in the firelight, smooth and liquid and warming. "You're a miracle."
This time she turned in her seat, a sudden jolt of desperation had her squinting into the darkness to try to make out his features. She needed to see him.
"You're a miracle." She said, not meaning the sudden solemnity but it struck her at odd times. How close she'd come to losing him. As usual, Robert accepted the tone change with a tilt of his chin and an indulgent smile.
"We're miraculous." He conceded.
With great care he shifted to face her side of the bed, his face suddenly brighter in the amber glow from the fireplace. He splayed his palm over the cool sheets before patting gently. His smile was silly and he almost swallowed the entirety of his grimace. Healing was slow and steady but the ache managed to catch him off-guard every now and then. He caught her hesitation before she even voiced it. "I simply want to hold you, my dear."
Unable to resist, she crossed to the bed and slid between the sheets to curl against his side. His arm encircled her waist and his palm splayed across the top of her buttocks, cupping her gently.
"Dr Clarkson said…" He hushed her with a kiss to her nose and slid lower against the pillows taking her with him.
"Don't ruin it." He said against her hair and his left hand joined the right, playing lightly over the parts of her he could reach.
But his touch was light with no real intention. More as though he was assuring himself of her presence than an act of seduction. As though he was the one who had watched her life pool across the dining room floor. Perhaps, in a way, he had. She wasn't sure she could live without him. Wasn't sure she wanted to.
He shushed her again, his breath disturbing the hair at her temple.
"You're thinking too loud." He admonished and she allowed herself to relax in his embrace. The last vestiges of countess, hospital president, and violet's arch enemy faded as he held her and she snuggled against him.
"I love you, my darling." He spoke into the darkness, his drowsy voice warm soothing in her ear. "And if Dr Clarkson doesn't give me the go ahead soon to show you how much…"
"I'll sack him." Cora's giggles mingled with Robert's and his arms tightened momentarily around her.
"Drunk on your own power." He breathed. "Mama would be so proud."
Her lips brushed the underside of his jaw and they fell silent.
Before long, they were asleep.