A/N: This one, as the companion to Strangeness and Charm, will be told from Cora's point of view. I haven't abandoned S&C, I've just hit a bit of a wall with that one for now. In the meantime, enjoy Cora's thoughts...

Mid October, 1888

Cora sat up in bed, attempting to read. The wedding was two days away; she felt nervous and, to be completely honest, very intimidated. Downton had proved to be beautiful and expansive, but it also seemed cold and unwelcoming to her too. Or perhaps that was just Robert's mother.

After reading the same paragraph without any comprehension for what must have been the seventeenth time, Cora sighed and put her book upon her lap. The room – her new bedroom – was lit by two oil lamps, one on each bedside table. She glanced around the room by their light. A large armoire, a chaise longue, chairs, a dressing table, and a full length mirror stood at various points in the room, and she had her own washroom as well. The room was pleasantly appointed, in fact, and Cora thought that she'd be comfortable here. The bed itself was comfortable, as well as being rather large, much larger than her bed at home.

Cora sighed again and lowered her eyes to where her hands traced along her book cover. She needed to stop thinking of Newport, of New York, of America, as her home. Her home was here now, Downton. And in two more days, it would be official.

Light sparkled from the diamonds upon her finger, catching her eye. Robert's great-grandmother's ring. Cora remembered the day he gave it to her and smiled. He'd wanted her to stay. He wanted her. But he didn't love her.

Her face fell at the thought. She'd told Robert, a few weeks ago, how she felt about him. That she loved him. She'd honestly thought he might say it in return. He'd been so attentive to her, so kind, so charming. He'd responded positively to her affection, had worked so hard to smooth things over when they'd had misunderstandings or arguments, and from some of the things he'd said…. But no. When she'd told him, he'd looked almost shocked, as if he'd never even considered the possibility that they should love one another.

Perhaps English reserve made him this way, or his upbringing as an aristocrat. But, still, after that initial reaction, he'd been understanding and very sweet to her. From what he'd said, Cora knew he certainly wasn't indifferent to her; he held her in high esteem and might even be fond of her. And, it didn't escape her that he might actually feel more than he realized. However, that was not what he'd said to her.

How she hoped that she could get him to feel for her what she felt for him. There were no two ways about it: she had crossed the ocean – and agreed to stay here – for him. And she knew she'd cross heaven and earth if he asked her to. Cora would do anything for him. She loved him. And she'd loved him even before he proposed. Despite the fact that he was a self-acknowledged fortune-hunter. She didn't care.

Cora raised her eyes to the door opposite her bed. Robert's door. His bedroom adjoined hers. When Violet had shown her into her room the week before – something which Cora had never thought she'd do personally – she'd been very careful to point out the bolt that locked the door on her side, and that it should be locked always. At least until their wedding night. Violet had pursed her lips at her and narrowed her eyes until they were merely slits. Then Cora had understood why Violet showed her the room herself. She knew she could be offended, but she chose not to be. The fact that Violet had unbent enough to let her stay in the room that connected with her son's – bolt or not – showed a certain amount of thawing toward her future daughter-in-law. Not a lot – but it was something.

As she stared at the door, lost in these musings, Cora thought she heard a noise from the other side. Tilting her head, she listened carefully until she heard it again. It sounded almost like a scratching upon the door. She got up and drew her dressing gown around her, then walked over and put her ear to the panel.

"Cora?" Robert's voice pierced through to her, his tone pleading, like a wounded animal. "Cora, might you open the door?" The scratching noises came again.

Stepping back a bit, she gaped. "I'm not supposed to open the door, Robert," she protested, hoping he could hear her.

"But, Cora, I need to see you," he begged.

Thinking that he might be hurt, she threw the bolt and pulled open the door. "Robert, are you alright?"

He grinned at her stupidly and stumbled a few paces into the room. "I am now." He swept his eyes over her, her bare feet peeping out from under her night dress, her dressing gown, her night braid falling demurely over her shoulder, and what she knew must be a startled look upon her face. "God, you're beautiful," he declared.

Cora took in his own night clothes – without a dressing gown, which caused her to blush – his heightened color and ungainly stance, and his disheveled hair. She could smell what she thought was Scotch on his breath. "Robert, are you – are you drunk?"

"No, no, no." He kept grinning and running his eyes over her, making her slightly uncomfortable, while at the same time slightly tingly. "I had a few drinks with Papa. He was giving me –" here his eyes darted to and fro, and he lowered his voice, putting his hand near his mouth like he was about to tell her a very important secret – "the talk."

Taking one step back, Cora drew her dressing gown closer around herself. "The talk?"

Shutting the door behind him now – something which set tiny alarm bells off in Cora's head – Robert leaned back against it with that same look on his face. He nodded vigorously. "Yes. I'm sure you had one with your mother? Or will soon enough?" His expression changed a trifle, to something Cora couldn't quite read.

"I – I don't understand, Robert." She cocked her head at him. "Are you sure you're unhurt? You're not ill in any way?"

Robert shook his head just as vehemently as he'd nodded it a moment before. "No, I'm quite well, Cora. I'm just – I wanted to see you."

"Well, you've seen me now, and if you're unhurt, then I think you should go back to your room." Cora inclined her head toward the door behind him, knowing her face had begun to grow red. If Robert's mother – if her own mother – knew that he stood in her room, not even in a dressing gown, it would be disaster.

"But, Cora," he entreated her, moving half a pace forward, "I've hardly seen you over the past few weeks. With all the wedding preparations and legal hassles and our mothers – we've had no time alone." His blue eyes grew large, his face pitiful, like a puppy whose mistress had been absent for days.

Cora relented, unable to resist that look – or his tumbled, dark locks. She sighed. "You sit there." She pointed to a chair. "And I'll sit over here." She went to sit across the room on the chaise.

Robert watched her, but didn't go to the chair she'd indicated. "I rather thought I could sit closer to you than that." He batted his long eyelashes at her.

Her breath caught. His eyelashes were something she'd noticed the first night he'd approached her, and they were often her undoing. Whether he realized this or not – and thus had batted them intentionally or not – she wasn't sure. But she couldn't resist him. Swallowing hard, closing her eyes briefly, she flourished a hand over the space beside her on the chaise.

Her fiancé bounded over much quicker than she'd expected his tipsy limbs could manage, the silly grin reaffixed upon his lips. As he sat down beside her, he clasped his hands together in his lap, and Cora thought that he did this to prevent himself from touching her, as he leaned as close to her as he could.

"Did you have something you wanted – or needed – to speak to me about?" Cora began to feel a bit lightheaded, having him next to her in the dim light of her bedroom, the scent of his cologne mixing with the scent of the whiskey, and his eyes boring into hers.

He shook his head a little, his cheeks coloring more. "No, not anything particular. The talk with Papa…. I – it made me think about you." He cast his eyes around the room, then down to his hands and took a deep breath. He appeared slightly embarrassed now. "Maybe you're right, Cora. Maybe I should go back to my own room."

Cora's chest tightened. Now that he was here, she didn't want him to leave. He'd been right on one count; they'd hardly been alone more than a handful of minutes in the past several weeks. Placing a hand over his, she said softly, "No, don't go yet."

Raising his eyes to hers, he smiled. It was a genuine smile, not the stupid grin from before. "Are you sure? I have had several drinks, and your proximity is working to intoxicate me further."

"Robert," she whispered, chuckling lightly, "what sort of talk was this?" She couldn't imagine what had brought him to this state.

She also didn't imagine that his entire visage would turn such a deep shade of crimson. He still smiled, but he bent his head down. "About the wedding night. Duties of a husband, you know."

Cora's eyes widened, and she nearly pulled her hand away from his, realizing what "the talk" had been about. She felt her own face grow warm, remembering her own talk with her mother several days before. It had actually rather frightened her. But her mother's very frank discussion – of the mechanics and how the first time would hurt to some extent – was tempered by descriptions from Cora's friends from home, most of whom were already married. Some, of course, refused to give details. Some told her things that gave her only the vaguest of notions of how it worked and what to expect. But a couple – she recognized these as the friends who had chanced upon happy partnerships – told her in quite a bit of detail about their bedroom escapades.

And, despite how her mother had spoken of it, she knew that her parents enjoyed that part of their marriage. Neither Martha nor Isidore had to speak the words; Cora simply knew. Her conversation with her mother had confirmed this for her. A certain way she had of smiling when she talked about particular things…. Yes, Cora had been frightened. But, all in all, she was also intrigued and wondered how it would be between her and Robert.

"Yes," she confirmed tentatively. "I do know."

Robert raised his head again, catching his breath sharply. "You seem calm. I thought – I thought you might be fearful."

Cora smiled at his obvious nerves. "I am, a little." She remembered what he'd said earlier. "I have had this talk with my mother. She –" taking a deep breath, she continued – "she said it would hurt the first time." Now she lowered her eyes, biting her lip.

Turning one of his hands so he could hold hers, Robert said in a low voice, "I don't like to think of hurting you."

Pressing his hand, she kept her head bent. "I think you'll have to, Robert. At least this once. But it doesn't seem like a very nice wedding night, does it?"

Cora felt him move his other hand, and he placed it under her chin, lifting her head to look at him. "No, it doesn't. But I suppose that's the way of things."

"Robert?" she ventured, trembling a little.

"Yes, Cora?" His hand remained under her chin.

"Kiss me?" Cora knew this was a dangerous request. He'd admitted he'd been thinking of her, that he was tipsy, that he thought he might need to leave. But, thinking of what was to happen, she desperately needed to be close to him.

Robert leaned toward her, until he almost touched her lips with his, then he turned away, closing his eyes. "I can't. I should go. If I kiss you, I might…. I should go," he repeated, pulling his hands from her and standing.

Before she could stop herself, Cora jumped up from the chaise and curled her fingers around his wrist as he started for the dividing door. "Please. Don't go. I – I don't want you to go." She wasn't sure why it was so important to her, but she needed him to stay. She began trembling again.

"Cora, you're shaking. What's the matter?" He didn't come any closer, but he covered her hand with his, looking at her in concern.

Cora blinked back tears. She didn't like crying in front of him, knowing how much it upset him. So, instead, she took the few steps that separated them, and, before he could protest, she leaned up to kiss him.

For several seconds, he attempted to break away from her, but her hand stole to the nape of his neck, and she held his head gently in place. She still had very little experience with kissing, but she did the best she could with what he'd taught her, which he'd always seemed to enjoy. She knew she lacked confidence as well, and continually wondered what new things she might try – how much further she might take things – but was still so unsure. She liked it better when Robert took the lead.

And soon enough, he did. She felt his arms wrap around her waist as he slid his tongue across her lips. This form of kissing still seemed foreign to her, but she found herself getting more used to it, with practice. It was so intimate, his tongue in her mouth, which this time tasted of alcohol, when she opened her lips wider to allow it entry. While not unpleasant, it reminded her of what he'd already hinted to her: that he might not be able to stop himself from doing something more if they began kissing.

But as his arms pressed her to himself in such an amorous way, she realized she didn't care. The only thing that mattered to her was being in his embrace. And it mattered even more as he reached up to stroke her hair, all the way down to play with the end of her braid, tightening his hold on her waist with the other. Then – by accident, she was sure, as he still fingered the tail of her plait – his thumb brushed against her breast. Her eyes flew open, and she involuntarily gasped at the way her own body reacted to this unexpected touch.

Robert drew away at her gasp, then froze, concern and confusion both writ plain upon his features. "Cora, is something wrong? Do you want me to go?"

"No. I…." She touched his cheek and smiled at him. "Don't move." Stepping back a pace, with his arm falling away from her waist, Cora untied her dressing gown and let it slide off her shoulders and pool around her feet. Now she heard his own gasp. The linen of her white night dress was very fine, and she could feel another blush creeping down her throat to realize that he could probably see the outline of her figure quite clearly through the fabric.

The way his eyes swept over her caused her to blush even harder, and she felt the tightening between her legs again. His eyes glittered and darkened, and he appeared frozen in place, apart from his appreciative gaze. "Cora," he whispered.

In answer, she simply took one of his hands in both of hers and put it over her breast, wanting to see if it would cause those stirrings again. She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing grow heavier as he gently moved his hand beneath hers to fondle her. His finger grazed over her nipple, and she couldn't stop herself from inhaling sharply at the multiple reactions this produced.

Suddenly, Robert was attempting to reclaim his hand from her, and her eyes snapped open. His expression reflected a sort of panic, and he stumbled backwards, evidently still somewhat inebriated.

"Robert? Did I do something wrong?" she asked as he turned from her, his head bent and his breathing uneven. "I'm sorry, I –"

Cora could tell that he shook his head then. "No, you didn't. Quite the opposite. But I have to go back to my room. If I don't, it won't – I won't…." Robert trailed off, and he took another step toward his door.

"Please, I don't understand." Cora went to him and placed a hand on his back, astonished when he flinched.

"Oh God, Cora, don't." He turned his head to look over his shoulder at her. "If I don't go now, I won't be able to wait until our wedding night," he said in a low voice. "I would never want to be a cause of shame for you."

Putting her arm down by her side, Cora watched as he turned his face away again. She understood now, she thought, why he wanted to go. But her mind flitted to her family – her parents and her brother – who would be gone, sailing back to America without her, in only a few more days. The idea left her feeling empty. Robert's presence was the one thing that eased that sense of hollowness for her. And she made a decision.

"Robert," she addressed him softly before he could stir another foot toward his door. "I don't see what is shameful. We'll be wed in less than two days. And I don't need anyone to pronounce us man and wife in order to be any more yours. Please." She took a deep breath to steady her voice. "Please, stay. I want – I want to be with you. In whatever way you need."

Slowly, Robert spun around to face her again, drawing himself up to his full height, and Cora saw how his long night shirt couldn't hide the prominent bulge below his waist. Her eyes widened, but she only looked away to gaze back into his eyes. "Are you certain?"

Determinedly, she nodded, stepping closer and taking his hand. "Yes," she said. "I don't want to wait." And she knew it was true. Besides wanting to be near him, their activities had piqued her interest to a point that she wasn't sure she could wait.

Robert lifted his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek before bending his head to kiss her again. He crushed his body to hers, letting go of her hand and snaking his arm around her waist. Cora felt the press of his arousal upon her hip, and it sent another surge of tingling excitement through her – as well as a dose of nerves. But her mother had told her that nerves were natural, and that she should concentrate on the other sensations.

And there were plenty enough of those. For soon Robert had moved his hand down between them to caress one of her breasts again, molding it through the linen and flicking a finger over its nipple. This elicited an instinctive sigh from her, and she could feel him stiffen even more against her hip at the sound. She found that she enjoyed having an effect upon him, that her reactions could stimulate his.

"Robert," she breathed as his mouth left hers to press kisses along her throat. His fingers fumbled with the buttons on the bodice of her night dress, but he failed. Cora helped him by opening a few of the buttons, whereupon he shunted the fabric off her collar bone to kiss there.

"I've been wanting to do that since the first night I spoke to you," he murmured against her neck, just loud enough for her to catch the words. "There was a ringlet nestled right here…" He brushed his lips along the curve of her neck to illustrate where. "And all I wanted to do was just this…." He repeated the act. "It quite took my breath away, thinking of that." He lifted his head and focused his blue eyes upon hers. "You took my breath away. Just as you're doing now."

Cora felt her own breathing waver at his words, the touch of his lips, the way he gazed at her. She wondered that her knees didn't give way; whether he realized it or not, he had swept her off her feet all over again.

And then he swept her off her feet literally. Kissing her lips once more, he bent to gather her up in his arms and carry her to the bed. Laying her gently down upon it, he turned the lamp down until the light was very low, then went around to the other side to do the same. He climbed up next to her, lying on his side and looking down into her face. "Cora, you can still tell me to go, and I will. I may be fairly intoxicated, and you've most certainly enchanted me, but I have enough of my wits about me to depart, if you wish. I don't want you to feel you have to continue if you're not comfortable."

"No, Robert. Please stay." Cora reached up and touched his cheek, which was no longer completely smooth this late in the evening.

Nodding, he turned his head a trifle to press a kiss to her palm before leaning down to kiss her mouth again, and she levered herself up on her side a bit. Robert's hand strayed to her hip, sending another current of electricity through her. She wasn't bold enough to touch him anywhere but his arms and shoulders, his face and hair and neck, or to slip her own tongue into his mouth. Fortunately, he didn't seem to need her to, seemed perfectly comfortable with what she was doing, and in running his hand up her side and down again, over her hip and to her thigh.

It took a moment for her to realize that his motion had a dual purpose, as she felt her night dress begin to bunch up at her waist, her lower limbs becoming bare. Her nerves struck her again, and she almost moved her own hand down to cover herself once more. Then his hand rested on the light lawn material of her knee-length drawers, upon the outside of her thigh, about halfway between her knee and her hip. Instead of moving her hand down to cover herself, she covered his hand instead and guided it up to the waistband of her drawers. Remembering his trouble with buttons, she reached around behind her and deftly unbuttoned them with one hand.

"It's alright," she whispered, breaking their kiss. Her eyes flitted down to where his arousal strained against the front of his night shirt. She didn't know how soon he would need her to be undressed, but she wanted him to know that when he was ready, she would be too. And she hoped she would be.

Robert gazed at her again and pressed kisses to her cheeks and forehead, her nose and jawline, as he hooked the fingers of both hands around the waistband and began sliding her drawers down her legs. Cora wriggled a bit, helping him ease them over her hips and behind, her face growing very warm as his hands brushed against her bare skin. But he looked into her eyes as he plucked the garment off her feet and let it fall from his hand, off the edge of the bed.

At this though, Robert's eyes appeared even more glazed, and it seemed he could hardly control his breathing. He floundered about with his night shirt, and she realized he was removing his own undergarments. Her curiosity wouldn't allow her eyes to stay on his face, and as he wrestled with pulling off his drawers, she caught her first sight of him and blinked rapidly, biting her lip. She lifted her eyes to his abruptly and wondered how they were supposed to fit together.

Robert finally managed to discard his drawers and rested a hand upon her cheek. "Are you – are you still alright?" His breaths were erratic, and she discerned that he was shaking.

Cora nodded, continuing to bite her bottom lip, knowing she was red from the roots of her hair to the tops of her breasts. Her eyes were wide, and her mind was racing at least as much as her heart. But she so wanted to please him.

"Did I ever tell you how much I like to see you blush?" His voice was soft, almost tender, as he began situating her on her back, his eyes maintaining contact with hers.

"No," she succeeded in choking out, blushing even more furiously than before, but letting go of her lip in a smile. She knew he endeavored to put her at ease, which she greatly appreciated, as her nerves threatened to overcome her, now that the moment seemed imminent.

"And your smile – it's one of the first things I noticed about you. One of the first things that made me want to know who this lovely creature across the ballroom from me was." He smiled down into her face while he glided a gentle hand over the outside of her thighs.

"Was it?" She lowered her lashes as she continued to smile and blush.

Nodding sincerely, Robert touched his lips to hers as he moved his hand to caress along her inner thighs, causing delicious shivers to dance up and down her spine. She knew what he wanted – needed – for her to do, could still feel him shaking with self-control. Cora knew he would never force her, so she slowly spread her legs apart in silent welcome as she looked up into his face lovingly, reaching up to touch his cheek. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but she couldn't. So she would have to show him as best she could.

Robert kept skimming his hand up and down her inner thigh as he moved to fit himself between her legs. She could hear a low noise coming from him, and she recognized it as the strains of their first dance. He hummed it as he kept his eyes on hers. Then he murmured, "Cora, I need to…." He took a deep breath, his flushed face apparent even in the low light of the lamps.

Cora stroked his cheek. "Do what you need to, Robert." She punctuated this with a nod and a soft smile.

Then she felt his fingers upon her, feeling between her legs in a way that made her catch her breath and squirm slightly. All her blood seemed to surge to that one area of her body, and she closed her eyes as he pressed his fingers into her. "Oh!" she let slip in surprise.

He promptly withdrew his hand. "Did I hurt you?" Robert asked in some alarm.

She opened her eyes again and fastened them upon his furrowed brow and fearful expression. "No, not at all." Cora tried to reassure him by smiling and grazing her hand over his cheek. "Go ahead, Robert." She nodded again.

Robert smiled back at her and let his fingers feel between her legs once more. Then she waited as he withdrew them. He finally closed his own eyes as he cautiously penetrated her. She tensed and held her breath as he pushed into her, but he paused and looked down at her before she felt anything more than an uncomfortable tightness. He had his weight upon one elbow, and he moved his arm to brush her hair back from her face. The expression on his own face was almost tender. "I don't want to hurt you, Cora" he whispered.

"You have to. Just this once." She endeavored to make her voice encouraging even as it trembled. "Please, we're already here, Robert." She slid her hand up to thread her fingers into the dark hair at his temple. "Just – kiss me while you do?"

He nodded and lowered himself carefully to do as she bid. She focused as much as she could on his lips upon hers, even as she felt him push farther into her, until she thought there was no way he could go any farther.

And then there was the pain, like a sharp, cruel pinch deep inside her. She whimpered into his mouth, her fingers twisting into his hair, clutching it as she squeezed her eyes tight against tears.

"Cora," he whispered when he lifted his head from hers. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She felt his lips upon her cheeks, in front of her ears, where she realized that tears coursed down her face and into her hair. He continued to murmur apologies as he feathered kisses over her face and brushed his hand over her hair, otherwise unmoving.

"Robert, please don't apologize." Cora played with his hair, her tears already stopped. The pain had subsided, and she was growing accustomed to the feel of him. She wriggled her hips a little and was delighted when he seemed to twitch inside her, and even more delighted when he let out a low moan.

At another wriggle of her hips, Robert gasped and breathed, "Oh, God. I – I really need to move now, if you are comfortable enough."

Cora couldn't help squirming a trifle to hear him groan once more, to see his eyes close. A giggle escaped her before she could stop it. "Yes, Robert."

He looked down at her, half in surprise and half in relief. Thus reassured, however, his need apparently won over his astonishment at her giggle, and he began to move against her, slowly, deliberately, his eyes shut tight. Cora watched his face, her fingers still twisted in his hair, and grew ever more amazed at how her own body responded to his measured thrusts. Her hips began to move in tandem with him of their own accord, and the stirrings she'd felt before became acute. She wrapped her legs around him, prompting him to increase his tempo.

However, just as she thought she might reach something akin to what her more forthcoming friends had described, Robert feverishly pushed into her a final time with a prolonged groan and stilled. Slipping his arms beneath her back and hugging her against him, he panted heavily, and she could feel his heart thumping upon her chest. She slid her other arm around his waist, rubbing his back distractedly through his night shirt. Tightening her legs around him, she closed her eyes, unwilling to let him go.

After several moments, Robert's breathing returned to almost normal, and she felt him slide from within her. A strange emptiness overtook her as he began to stir. He sat up on his elbow again and touched her face. "Cora? Is everything alright?"

She gave him a small, timid smile. "Yes. I – was it – did you…." She took a deep breath. "Was it nice?" She realized that this was more important to her than she'd known as she began shivering again.

A shadow of mirth crossed his face, but Robert apparently understood that even a chuckle would be out of place when she was this earnest. "Yes. More than nice." He bent down to kiss her, then turned onto his side, gathering her up against him after he'd rearranged their night clothes back over them.

Cora nestled her head against his shoulder and sighed softly, content to have given him pleasure, content to be so close to him.

"Cora?" he queried.

"Yes, Robert?" she whispered, as her eyes began to droop, she was so comfortable resting with him that way.

"Do you forgive me?"

Too tired to even scrunch up her face in confusion, she asked softly, "What for?" She yawned.

"For taking you before our wedding night? For hurting you?" She detected a note of anxiety in his voice.

"Robert, don't be silly," she insisted gently. "I knew what would happen when we came together, and I encouraged you to stay. There's nothing to forgive." Cora nuzzled her face into the fabric of his night shirt, inhaling the scent of laundry soap, of perspiration, of his cologne.

"All the same," he said, "I'd like to know that you do."

She nodded lazily. "Yes, Robert. I forgive you."

It wasn't until he let out his breath in a long exhale that ruffled her hair that she comprehended that he'd been holding it. It was essential to him, that he not hurt her any more than necessary, and it pained him to do even that. Knowing this gratified her, and she relaxed even more in his arms. She felt his fingers play with the end of her braid as she fell asleep.

As Cora stretched the limbs curled up under her, she winced at the soreness between her legs. It hadn't been a dream, then. But, as she opened her eyes and gazed around in the pre-dawn light, she saw that she was alone. Robert had extinguished the lamps before leaving, but he had indeed left, the door between their rooms shut.

A wave of loneliness crashed over her. She jumped out of bed in frustration and went over to the door, throwing the bolt. Blinking her eyes against the tears that refused to be held back, she went to the washroom and splashed water on her face. Cora knew it was useless to be upset, knew that Robert was as cognizant as she that if he were found in her room come morning, it would be catastrophic. She knew that he recognized that she would be censured even more severely than he would for this incident out of bounds, and he wanted to spare her that, just as he'd wanted to spare her pain or shame.

Cora knew it, but she couldn't help wondering how it could be so easy for him to leave her. He'd not even woken her to tell her he was going. Again, she knew he'd probably simply been unwilling to wake her, to interrupt her sleep, but still…. Cora wondered, as she slipped back into bed and pulled the sheets up around herself, if this was what it would be like for them. She wondered if she would keep coming so close to him – have Robert come so close to her – only to come back to a perpetual emptiness.

She wept quietly, knowing as she fell asleep once more that this particular hurt wouldn't disappear nearly so quickly as the other. This hurt, unless something changed between them, wouldn't happen only once; it would happen every time. And she knew it was no one's doing but her own.