Not Exactly a Year

Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.

I know stories about Cobert's first year have been done several times, and I don't normally write stories that have already been written so much. Nor do I usually write a multi - chapter story entirely from a male POV. But I'm going to do both for this story because I believe can I understand Robert at this point in his life better than anyone. (My husband loved me before I loved him.)

So, let's see if I can dive headfirst back into that period of my life, while simultaneously blending it with the character of Robert Crawley in the late Victorian age…

February 16, 1889

Robert Crawley placed a bit of scrambled eggs in his mouth, chewing slowly, and wiping his mouth carefully. The grey suit he wore this morning was neatly pressed and was without any grease stains or drops of tea. Everything he did must appear calm and collected, as a man in control. And at twenty – three years old, he had been a man for a couple of years. He had spent several years at Eton, which taught he everything he needed to know about being a lord, and now he was about to marry.

Robert wished he was as calm as he appeared about his marriage.

"I really am proud of you, son," his father, Patrick Crawley, the sixth Earl of Grantham said, wearing a similar grey suit as his son. He smiled much wider than he normally would have. "You have saved Downton."

"I think you've made a good decision," his sister, Rosamund said with a nod.

Robert felt warm all over, even without sipping his morning tea. They were right. He had saved everything from the farms and the tenant's homes, to the vast gardens, to the little village, to the servants' jobs, and the home the Crawley Family has lived in for over two centuries. He need not have any apprehension about his decision to marry Cora Levinson.

"Thank you, Rosamund. Papa," Robert said, sighing almost under his breath and then giving his father a smile. When he first heard of Downton's financial crises, he blamed his Papa for it. After all, the man had spent more time in the last twenty years traveling the world than he had managing their estate. Why should Robert lose Downton because his Papa had to go to India, and Greece, and countless other places?

But after speaking to several other lords, Robert learned it was not that simple. Lords all over the country were losing their estates and scrambling to find the money to save them. He had been trying to put aside his lingering resentment toward his Papa and focus on his pride. Robert had saved Downton.

Sipping his tea, Robert couldn't stop his uneasiness completely, though. "I just wish I was not required to marry for money," he sighed as he put his teacup back in its saucer. "It sounds so vulgar… so, well, American."

"I know it is difficult, but do not listen to your mother so much," Papa chuckled as he carefully wiped the sausage from his mouth. "She is a good lady, but she is still a woman, so she knows nothing about finances and what men are required to do because of them."

Robert sighed again, feeling the heavy weight of what was required of him. Once again, he forced himself not to be cross at his Papa for the circumstances. "Yes, Papa." He paused and cut a piece of sausage.

"Not listening to Mama has nothing to do with her being a woman; it's simply common sense," his sister Rosamund said. Robert studied his sister as she sipped her morning tea. Her red hair and lime-green morning dress made her appear confident. Not that Rosamund needed any help in that department. Sometimes he wished he could disregard their mother's opinion as easily as she could.

"Rosamund, I know you and your mother often struggle, but she is still your mama and deserves your respect," Papa reminded her, his eyes staring into hers, as he often did.

"Yes, Papa," Rosamund said immediately, her eyes cast down a bit. It was amazing how much easier she could obey Papa than Mama. "But honestly, Robert," she said, switching her eyes to him. "I think you have chosen well, under the circumstances. I like Miss Levinson." She took a bite of eggs, then carefully wiped her mouth.

"I do, too," Robert admitted with a sigh. If he must marry one of those Americans, it was nice he'd chosen one whom with he could easily converse. She was pretty, too.

"Besides, in this case, the American's obsession with money works in our favor, son," Papa said much quieter than normal. "So, we should be grateful," he chuckled again.

Wiping his mouth to hide his laugh, Robert couldn't help but agree. It was ironic that American money had saved Downton.

OOOOOOOOO

Two hours later, the Downton landscape emerged as their carriage trotted to the church. Robert, dressed in a formal morning coat and matching hat, smiled as the gardens, the trees, the farms and several cottages came into view. He would never tire of seeing his estate. And now, he would never need to do so. Many residents of those farms and the Downton Village cheered as the carriage passed. Of course, they were all happy Downton was safe as well. It meant none of them would need to move.

Mama, on the other hand, was still anything but happy. She was dressed in a lovely light blue gown and matching hat, but the scowl on her face made her appear unattractive. Robert quickly switched his attention to Rosamund.

His sister wore a lovely yellow gown and hat. But her bright smile and sparkling eyes made her appear truly beautiful. He met her eyes and her smile widened. Robert truly appreciated his sister's support today. Papa also wore a morning coat and the seal of Grantham around his neck. But his face was completely neutral. Robert supposed he was happy Downton would be saved but not that Mama was so angry about it.

The carriage finally stopped in front of the village church, where wedding guests already walked inside.

Papa immediately helped Rosamund out of the carriage, while Robert assisted Mama. The February air was still rather chilly, so Papa quickly led Rosamund into the church.

Naturally, Mama refused to enter the church, no matter how cold it was. Instead she sighed, looking around the churchyard for the other carriage. "I wondered if the Levinson's might already be here. Mrs. Levinson is far too eager for my own comfort."

Robert sighed. Privately, he admitted Mrs. Levinson was pushing a bit too much for this wedding. In fact , that woman had almost insisted Robert and Cora wed last fall instead of waiting until February. Still, he wasn't about to tell Mama that. Not now. "Mama, the Levinsons will not arrive too early, and I will not see the bride before the ceremony. They are coming all the way from that hotel in York, remember."

The scowl on Mama's face grew bigger, and she whispered, "Yes. Those Americans must stay in a fancy, modern hotel. It's a wonder they haven't ruined everything about this wedding, considering you insisted on going through with it. Goodness, Mrs. Levinson was considering bringing a wedding gown designed by a New Yorker! For all we know, it may not have been white if that plan had succeeded. Robert, I repeat, you should not marry that American. She will ruin our family."

Robert sighed, trying to ignore the flies buzzing in his stomach. He wished they did not have to go through this again. Mama had ranted and raved when he'd proposed to Cora last summer and had spent the rest of the year doing everything she could think of to stop the wedding. Including, but not limited to, attempting to hide all the letters Cora had written to him when she'd returned to America. But this was the day of their union. Couldn't she see it was pointless now?

He leaned in closer, so none of the guests would overhear and whispered, "Mama, I am certain she will learn everything so she need not ruin our family. And as for marrying an American, it's not as unusual as you would like to believe. The Earl of Scarborough married an American heiress last year and the future Earl of Clarendon is engaged to one as well. Even the Duke of Marlborough has proposed to an American. And Dickie Grey told me he may have to consider it as well."

The scowl remained on Mama's face, proving these arguments had no effect on her.

"Besides, Miss Levinson and I get on fine. I am certain we will be good friends and will be as happy as you and Papa are." Robert glanced at the church, where more and more guests were congregating. "Now, we should go inside."

Mama took his arm, but the scowl on her face remained as they walked. Once again, she whispered, "I do not believe friendship is what Miss Levinson is expecting, Robert. I have watched her the last few days, and she has a dangerously dreamy expression on her face when she looks at you. And have you thought of the date she chose? It's rather close to Valentine's Day. I wouldn't be surprised if she fancies herself in love with you, or some such sentimental nonsense. What is going to happen when her infatuation inevitably fades?" She paused for effect.

Robert tried to remember the expression on Cora's face in the last few days, but he hadn't noticed anything unusual. Nothing like what Mama described.

"Your Miss Levinson will grow bitter and not want anything to do with you," Mama said. Now her scowl disappeared, and her satisfied smirk appeared instead. It was one of favorite facial expressions.

Still, Mama couldn't possibly be correct. Cora was content with their friendship ever since their engagement. Robert shook his head. "No Mama, she is happy the way things are, and she is smart enough to know why this marriage is taking place."

Mama shook her head again. "I promise you, Robert. You will regret this." Then she entered the church and immediately changed her expression to her proper English pleasant look.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Church bells rang as more and more guests entered the building. Some were relatives like his cousin, Susan and her new husband, the young Marquess of Flintshire; others were people Robert recognized from Mama and Papa's parties like Sir John and his wife, Alice; women from the London season like Maude and her new husband Sir Anthony, and many friends from Eton. Soon, his eyes met his closest friend, Dickie Grey. Without saying a word, the other man immediately smiled and led Robert into the church.

Despite the fact that Dickie was only a baron, Robert appreciated the other man's quiet presence. They had become particularly close at Eton; in fact, he saw Dickie almost as an older brother. There was no other option for his best man.

They both removed their hats as gentlemen should and took their places at the front of the church. Robert tried not to stare at all guests, wondering what they thought of this wedding. Many of them probably thought marrying a woman for her dowry was inappropriate for a proper Englishman, just as Mama did. Perhaps some of them wondered how an American could ever be good enough for a viscount. It's is necessary, he reminded himself again.

Still, Robert had never been more grateful for Dickie's support; it reminded Robert of his dog, Osiris's constant reassurance.

Especially as Cora finally entered the church, on her father's arm. Robert admitted, a part of him was relieved she was wearing white gown, even though he'd told his mother not to worry about such things. But with Mrs. Levinson in charge, anything was possible… But most of him focused on how lovely Cora appeared. The gown was narrow and showed her very nice figure, and the white caused her lovely pale skin very noticeable. Its high lacey neck was appropriately modest and made her look almost like a proper lady. Her dark brown hair was pinned, and her lacey veil covered her face like a secret that Robert was suddenly excited to discover.

"She really is lovely," Dickie whispered, as Cora and her father approached them. "You chose well." Robert smiled. She was one of the prettiest of the American heiresses, and it was particualarly apparent today.

He tried to avoid looking at her father, but it was impossible to ignore the imposing man completely. Isidore Levinson was tall with dark hair and yellowish skin; once again Robert noticed how… Jewish the man looked. At least he wore a proper morning coat to escort his daughter down the aisle. Still, Robert wondered whether the man seemed so uncomfortable because he was in a church or because he was giving his only daughter away.

Reaching Robert, Cora beamed at him through her veil, while Mr. Levinson's eyes narrowed in a scary look that reminded him of Mama. Still, the other man did place Cora's hand in his as the ceremony began.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Mr. Levinson continued to give Robert a frightening look outside the church as they posed for pictures. Robert ignored it and focused photographer. "Just a little closer, please, Lord Downton," the photographer said as he continued setting his equipment.

Robert nodded and took a small step closer to Cora, once again noticing how pretty his bride was, especially as he could now see her face. She delicately held onto his arm for support, which Robert was happy to provide. One never knew when a woman may stumble, especially outdoors. He only wished he could provide her with a shawl or covering as well. February was rather early to be outdoors in such a thin dress, especially as the wind blew again.

"Could you move this along, sir?" Robert asked the photographer as the man still fidgeted with his things. He would prefer Cora to go inside soon. Her dress felt lovely as his arm brushed against the silk, but it wasn't thick enough for this weather.

"Just another moment, Lord Downton," the photographer said, although the man appeared to be moving slower than a snail.

Sighing, Robert prepared to object again when there was finally a "poof" noise, and several more moments later, the photograph was done. He smiled. It reminded Robert of his parents' wedding photograph, which was displayed in Mama's sitting room. They both had stood outside the same village church, Papa wore a handsome morning coat and top hat, and Mama held onto Papa's arm.

No matter the reasons for the marriage, he and Cora would have a successful life together. A solid friendship and partnership, just as Mama and Papa did.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Congradulations, Lord Downton," the Earl of Scarborough said as everyone was gathered in the Great Hall of Downton Abbey. There were probably two hundred lords, ladies, and lesser nobility here today, and Robert relished how great everything appeared. From the carpets, to the railings, to the walls, Downton Abbey shinned with perfection for his wedding. Champagne, cheeses, shrimp, scones, tarts, and several other choices Robert couldn't see were available to eat and drink, provided by all the footmen.

"Thank you," Robert nodded to the other man, meeting his dark blue eyes without fear. As another Englishmen who had married an American heiress, he certainly understood these necessities. Cora and I will be friends, Robert reminded himself.

"She certainly is a lovely one," the earl added, with a nod towards Cora, who stood next to Robert.

Robert smiled in agreement, while Cora said, "thank you," much to the two men's surprise. How American was she? Did she not realize it was the man's duty to speak at such occasions? Or was this the sort of thing that Mama had tried to warn him?

It was no matter, Robert decided as he sipped his champagne. Cora would learn the proper way of doing things. She already refrained from holding his hand after he explained its inappropriateness during the London season last year. Besides, as she now stared at her shoes, Cora obviously knew she had made a mistake.

"Lord Downton," said another voice, much more familiar this time. It was Lady Pricilla, a frequent dance partner of Robert's during his past few seasons. She was pretty, with thick brown hair, although not as dark as Cora's, and calm brown eyes. "You have made a fine match." Pricilla's eyes may have wandered to Cora for a moment, as if wondering how true her words were. But Robert was probably imagining things.

At any rate, the air was becoming too tense here. "Would you like another glass of champagne, Cora?" Robert turned to his bride politely.

"Yes, thank you," she said, beaming at him again. She must have been thirstier than Robert had thought. He reminded himself to ask her more often. "And perhaps a piece of cheese."

He nodded and immediately made his way to the display of food and drinks. "Lord Downton," he heard again from behind him. With a sigh, Robert turned to see his cousin Susan's new husband. The man was a little older than Robert, probably about ten years, and had bright blond hair and blue eyes.

"Hello, Lord Flintshire," Robert said to the other man as he inspected all the cheese, wondering which Cora would prefer.

The Marquess shook his head. "There is no need to call me by my title; we are family now. Hugh is fine, or even my nickname, Shrimpie."

Robert nodded but he could never imagine calling a respectable marquess, his social superior, "Shimpie." Still, out loud he said, "then you should call me Robert."

"In that case," Hugh lowered his voice a little. "Robert, pardon my impertinence, but are you certain about this? Your new wife knows nothing about English ways, and she will need to be a countess someday. When I married, I knew my wife would need to be a marchioness, and I chose accordingly. It seems you have not."

Bristling, Robert looked directly at Hugh. "Have you been receiving instructions from Mama? Because she told me the very same thing this morning. And has been saying the very same thing since our engagement began. I will tell you the same thing I told her. I do not have the luxury of choosing an Englishwoman, as American heiresses are the only ones that have the capital, we need to save Downton. Your estate is not in as much trouble, so you were able to select a proper Englishwoman like Cousin Susan. But Cora does not need to become a countess right away, as Papa is in perfect health. She will have plenty of time to learn."

Suddenly Robert realized he was speaking louder than he should. A couple of guests appeared to be watching. Bloody hell, was he making a scene at his own wedding? And to a marquess? So much for the Americans causing trouble. "I apologize for raising my voice and for speaking in that manner. You were only trying to help. I am afraid I have a bit of a temper."

"Yes," Hugh said with a nod. "I was trying to help you, Robert, but I apologize for making you cross. You have obviously thought that through. But if she truly is worth that much wealth, is she going to respect you as she should? A man should never be lower than his wife."

Robert picked up a glass of champagne and took several sips. That was a concern that had honestly not occurred to him. How could he be lower a woman who didn't even have a title until they married? And who wasn't even English? Would Cora lose truly respect for him because her money was so necessary to Downton? "No, I do not think she will. Papa has designed an entail that clearly states the money no longer belongs to Cora as the result of our union. Besides, she seems incredibly happy about our marriage. Every time she looks me today, she's given me a bigger smile."

Robert glanced around the sea of people and found Cora, speaking to Miss Amy Nelson, her American bridesmaid. Cora had told him Miss Nelson was her closest friend and she had been very pleased to have her in England for her wedding. But as soon as Cora saw Robert, her eyes shinned, and her smile widened. "I should probably return to her, in fact. I promised her I would bring her a new drink and a couple of cheeses. She is quite thirsty." He carefully chose two pieces of cheese, and a glass of champagne.

OOOOOOOOOO

"What a day," Robert sighed that night as his valet, Carter, removed his cufflinks. There had been people who wished him congratulations today but not all. Then there were the heated discussions Mama and Mrs. Levinson somehow instigated, no matter how many times Cora tried to calm them. Not to forget Cora's fifteen – year – old brother, who seemed a bit too eager to spend time with the ladies today. And Mr. Levinson alternated between standing aloof from everyone, not even accepting the food, and giving Robert deadly glares.

At least Dickie seemed genuinely happy for him. Rosamund, too, said she thought Cora was nice and tried to be friendly.

"Quite, milord," Carter said as he carefully removed Robert's morning coat. "I, ah, hope you know how much we servants appreciate this."

"Excuse me?" Robert said, turning to face his servant.

"I apologize, milord," the valet said, looking at the floor, showing his balding head. "I shouldn't have said anything."

Carter was correct, but since he was normally good at keeping his place, Robert accepted his apology. "It is fine. But to what were you referring?"

The valet stared at the floor again. "Well, there is, ah, only one reason, ah, you would marry an American. We are just, ah, glad to know we should, ah still have jobs."

Bristling Robert snapped, "I see. I will thank you not to mention it ever again."

"Quite," Carter sighed. "Once again, milord, I apologize."

Still, as Carter continued to undress him, Robert felt a bit better. Once again, he was forced to admit his marriage had helped a lot of people. It was the right decision.

OOOOOOOOO

Carter finished dressing Robert in his new red silk pajamas and dressing gown far too quickly. Now Robert would need to enter Cora's new bedroom to consummate their union. As he had already decided many times today, marrying Cora was the right decision. But it would not be truly official until this was complete.

He just wished he could do it without hurting her. Cora was such a sweet young woman. Nervously, he knocked on the dividing door, wondering how she might respond. "Come in, Robert," her voice called from the other side.

Robert opened the door and found Cora lying on the large double bed, wearing a sleeveless silk nightgown. He could almost see her breasts peeking out underneath the silk. Her porcelain skin shone in the candlelight and her almost black hair was tied neatly in a braid. She looked completely breathtaking but also very vulnerable. Cora was as innocent as a white dove, nothing like the women he had enjoyed when he had visited the brothels with his chums at Eton.

"Cora," Robert said slowly, still staring at her lovely exposed skin. "Are you ready for this?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I assume, ah assume you realize what is supposed, ah happen tonight?" Robert didn't say it, but with their marriage, thanks to the entail, consummation was even more important. He was certain Papa would ask the maids to see proof of it the next morning.

"Mother told me we would be expected to try to produce an heir." She played with nightgown as she spoke, and Robert's hands ached to touch it as well. But he couldn't do that. Not yet, at least. "Starting tonight."

Sighing Robert nodded. He hated speaking about such matters, especially to someone he didn't know well. He and Cora may have met almost a year ago, but they hadn't had much time together, all things considered. "Yes, but it might, well, be, ah, uncomfortable at first." He desperately tried to stare at something other than Cora as he spoke of this. But unfortunately, he couldn't keep her eyes off her breasts, which were still peeking out beneath her beautiful nightgown.

"Especially, ah for you. And I won't do this..." Robert took a deep breath, staring at her silky nightgown and creamy skin. "Unless you tell me you are ready." The entail, and protecting Downton, was important, but so was protecting Cora. As a gentleman Robert had been taught to protect women, and he firmly believed it was one of his most important duties. Even if he must protect a woman from himself.

To his surprise, he heard giggling from Cora. "Robert," she said. "You are very sweet to ask, but I will be fine." She gave him the same expression she had been giving him all day, with her smile wide and her eyes shining. Why did she look so happy? He didn't understand it.

OOOOOOOOOO

All Robert's thoughts disappeared as he touched Cora's soft, warm skin. As he moved closer and closer, he discovered her hair possessed a very alluring scent. Sweet, but delicate, just a proper lady. Nothing like the strong smells that the brothel girls had.

Robert nuzzled his nose into Cora's braid, which had fallen directly in front of her breasts. The scent was perfect. He breathed in again and again, leaning into her breasts.

Suddenly eager to see more, he pulled the nightgown over Cora's head and stroked her bare skin again. "So soft," he whispered.

"I'm, ah, glad you like them," Cora whispered back, breaking his spell. Why did she have to speak? Wasn't she supposed to lie there while he enjoyed what she had to offer? For several moments he simply stared at her, uncertain how to proceed. Her blue eyes looked back just as uncertainly.

Finally, he caressed her breasts again, deliberately not looking into her eyes. This wasn't the time to attempt to understand Cora or why she spoke; it was not the time to think at all.

And Robert didn't think as he removed his own pajamas and climbed on top of her. He didn't think as he moved inside her. It felt too good to think. Too wonderful, especially as he finally exploded.

And yet, after everything ended, Robert couldn't help but stare at the blood on Cora. On the sheets. It was to be expected, naturally, after taking an innocent young woman, as he'd been told. It would be the proof of their union that Papa would want to see.

Still, the blood. It must have been so painful for Cora, and it was his duty to shield her from harm. Even from him. "I'm sorry, Cora." Robert sighed, still staring at the blood. "I wish it didn't have to be like this."

"Do not worry, Robert," Cora said, as she took his hand for some reason and squeezed it. "I will be fine."

"Is there something I can do for you?" Robert asked, still staring at the blood, desperate to perform his duty to her somehow.

Cora sighed. "Is there somewhere I can wash?"

Robert immediately showed her the washroom. She beamed at him once again as she made her way there. "It's extremely sweet of you to be so concerned, though. That's why I love you."

Fear stabbed him in the heart. Cora couldn't have possibly said what it sounded. "Did you just say…" he tried to ask, deliberately not looking at her as she stepped into the washroom.

"Yes," Cora said, a little more firmly, as if she were more confident about it. "I said I love you."

This wasn't happening. "But you can't," Robert said even more firmly on the side of the washroom. His mind flashed back to the conversation he'd had with Mama this morning. "I wouldn't be surprised if she fancies herself in love with you."

"Excuse me?" Cora's voice grew louder and more cross as she spoke. "I know my own feelings. I had thought that you might love me, too, but I guess not."

"Don't be ridiculous, Cora!" Robert said, his own voice becoming louder than hers as the fear overwhelmed him. "I thought you knew why our marriage had to take place. Love has nothing to do with it." Mama's question, "What is going to happen when her infatuation inevitably fades?" played in his mind over and over, sounding even more demanding than Mama herself.

"Yes," Cora said crossly, just as there was a loud splash of water. "But you were always so sweet and considerate; I started to believe it was more than just a business arrangement." She spat out the two words, as if they were the worst terms on Earth.

With that, Mama's words "Your Miss Levinson will grow bitter and not want anything to do with you," punched Robert in the gut. Mama couldn't possibly be correct. Yet everything she'd predicted this morning seemed to be happening now. He needed to leave. As soon as possible.

"Cora, I can't listen to this anymore," Robert said, suddenly realizing he was still naked. He gathered his pajamas as quickly as he could to vacate the room.

"Good," Cora said. "Because I do not wish to listen to you anymore."

Robert made a dash to his room and sighed with relief as soon as he entered his sanctuary. There was the fireplace in the center of the room and the small bed, made just for him on the other side. All his suits were neatly hung up in the closet. The walls were painted a warm comforting brown.

This was where he needed to be.

He quickly climbed into bed, trying to block out the memory of the quarrel between him and Cora, and just as importantly, Mama's warning.

I plan to post a new chapter of this once a month, always on Saturdays.

Also, I know it's impossible to force you to review, but this Wednesday is my birthday. And reviews will always be my favorite presents.