He hadn't seen any light from under the door, but he'd let himself into his room quietly, noting that Cora had probably had Bates sent away hours ago. He undressed himself quickly, something he'd become more adept at as of late, given the hours he had been keeping, and slipped himself through the dressing room door. The fire still burned softly in the corner and he smiled to see her small frame curled up facing the dying flames. He padded over quietly to her side to look at her - his smile changing to a frown when he noted the sad expression on her face, even in sleep, and the tracks of tears that reflected on her cheeks.

"Oh, my dearest one," he whispered, keen to hold her. He walked back over to his side to pull back the covers.

He slid in behind her and gently, as not to wake her, lay his arm across where hers held down the blankets in front of her chest. The warmth of her back spread against his chest and even in her sleep she snuggled towards him, drawn to him, reaching her foot back to hook over his legs and urge him closer to fill in the spaces. He felt a sense of relaxation wash over him as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and inhaled the smells of her soap and faint whiff of perfume left lingering. He eased his fingertips over hers and felt them link together, he whispered "I'm so sorry, darling. Forgive me."

"Of course," Cora murmured back, voice heavy with sleep, bringing his hand with hers into her chest. He smiled as she tucked them together against her heart and settled in to sleep when she started suddenly.

"Robert! What are you doing here?"

His shock at her tone and question was evident when she turned to face him.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, pulling back his arms. "Cora - are you quite all right?"

She glanced at the befuddled and very 'Robert' look on his face and then back to the door that led to the hallway before realizing - in her emotional state and in her haste, she'd thrown the lock on the true bedroom door, the one that led in and out of the main hallway, but not, however, on the one between their dressing rooms, through which he would have surely entered. She nearly rolled her eyes at herself, and a sound halfway between an aggravated sigh and a chuckle escaped her lips. Well, Cora, she thought. You're clearly too old to throw a proper tantrum at your husband.

He'd taken advantage of her pause to reach up a hand to stroke her cheek with the backside of his fingers. "Are you talking in your sleep again?" he asked indulgently, smiling at her. "You haven't done that in years. You must be as tired as I feel. Come here, darling." He scooted back on the pillows and opened up his embrace to her. "Let me hold you."

She was sitting up, half-turned to face him and his invitation to lie back down in his arms. As much as a small part of her still hurt, and wanted him to know that she'd felt his dismissal so acutely that she'd actually meant to keep him out of her bedroom for the evening, the lovely warmth of his embrace and the tenderness on his face as he looked at her were beckoning her back down before she'd even made a conscious decision to do so.

Perhaps she should just let it go, she thought. He'd be terribly hurt if he knew she'd locked the door. He'd been working so hard lately - running around the estate with Mary nearly every day, investigating new claims and ideas and inventions every week, trying to solve the massive riddle that was running Downton efficiently and effectively in this new age. Cora'd urged Mary to assume more tasks, and she had tried, but Robert still felt too much responsibility to truly let anything go completely into Mary's hands until he absolutely had to. And with the news of estate auctions and bankruptcy and ruin of so many of their friends and acquaintances . . . she knew her husband and how he was wont to take care of them all, how he wouldn't rest until he was assured he had done all he could, even when there seemed there was nothing left that he might be able to do. She resolved to be more patient with him, and to not bring it up again. She found it was easier to promise this to herself when he was looking at her with such love and tenderness.

Cora shifted and turned completely to him, smiling as she felt one arm reach around her, and his other hand reach for her thigh to draw it up and over his hip, before placing it on the small of her back to press her closer to him. She looked up at him, expecting a lazy grin and perhaps a promising look of something more to come, but instead his fingers tilted her chin up closer to his mouth so that he could place his lips gently first one cheek, and then the other, lightly kissing away the places she felt dry with her earlier tears.

"I've made you cry, Cor. I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. And I know I've been a terrible husband lately. I do hope you'll forgive me."

Her heart skipped warmly in surprise. "Oh, Robert!" she cried softly, choking on her words. She smiled at him through newly forming tears, leaning up to place her hands on his cheeks and drawing their foreheads together, closing her eyes and reveling in the feel of his body around hers and the somewhat nervous breaths he drew beneath her. "There's nothing - but of course I forgive you, darling. I - I wasn't hurt, exactly, and I do understand all this pressure you feel yourself under." She sighed and pressed their bodies closer together. "I'm worried about you. You're working so hard, and sleeping so little. And I've missed you so. Missed you like this. In all ways, Robert."

"Cora . . . Cora . . . " and he brought her lips to his, his hands drawing up and down her back, pressing her closer to him. And they shifted against one another, and they kissed to remember each other, and they kissed to forget almost everything else. In the dying firelight and the warm cocoon they were creating against the cold English night and the unknown of the future, for just a few minutes, nothing existed but them.

She finally pulled back, studying him, a smile playing at the corner of her lips as he smoothed her hair down and half-heartedly pulled at the ribbons that held her braid until her hair was loose and flowing around her. "Robert," she warned, their old game. He'd always prefered her hair down, and she'd always patently shied away from eye contact with O'Brien and then Baxter on the mornings after, as they attempted to brush through the snarls and tried to muffled their tsks.

But he made no further move, only smiled, carding his fingers through her hair before moving his arms to hold her against his chest.

"Can I confess something to you?" he asked, his voice thoughtful.

"Of course."

"I think . . . I think I'm rather nervous with Tom here. I'm not quite sure how to explain it."

"Nervous? Whatever do you mean?" she fingered the collar of his pajamas and couldn't resist kissing his neck and the underside of his jaw. Her stoic English husband suddenly nervous around the Irish son-in-law? She nearly laughed. "How could Tom make you nervous? I thought you were delighted to have them here. We've both missed them so much." She kissed his neck again as she lay her head on his shoulder.

"I'm terribly pleased they're both here. I've missed Sybbie more than I can say. It's just . . . Tom did so much here for the estate, with Matthew and then Mary. And now he's been gone for a turn, and I've tried to stay the course. And Mary's brilliant - really and truly she is. I have every confidence in her. I just don't want Tom to be disappointed in anything that's happened since he's left."

"I don't see how he could be. You've managed to do a great deal. There are several things outside of your control or Mary's control. But I think he will be pleased."

"Sybil would laugh to hear me say it, but I have rather missed his outspoken opinions. Missed the challenge. He always kept me on my toes. It's good to have him back, if only for a while."

"They do say iron sharpens iron, dear," she teased, squeezing him lightly to overcome the rush of emotion she always felt whenever they mentioned their baby girl and the moments she was missing. "I know you've had your differences, Robert, between you and Tom, but can I tell you I love you even more for how you've overcome them together? You see him as truly part of the family, and it makes me so very glad. It's what Sybil would have wanted."

"It feels strange to say, but I can't imagine our family without him now. And he's doing such a splendid job with Sybbie. Of course, he lived with such excellent examples of proper parenting while here at Downton, so it should come as no surprise."

"Please. You and I have hardly been perfect parents. One needn't look very far for evidence of that. And Sybbie is all Sybil and Tom. He's a wonderful father to her."

"Hm. Well, if you won't admit to being a nearly perfect mother, I can tell you with absolute certainty - and will accept no argument - that you have been the perfect wife for me."

She buried her smiling face in his chest, holding him closer. "Thank you."

"And I meant what I said earlier, Cor," he added, lightly stroking her hair. "I'm sorry I've been so . . . well, absent, I suppose. You deserve better. And I hope you see I've been working so hard to try and preserve what I can - save what I can of Downton. For you, me, the girls, everyone. I know things are changing for our lot, and I can't predict all the pieces that will come into play, but I must try."

"I know, Robert. I expect nothing less of you. And I love you for it, even when I am worried for you."

"I know you worry. I'm sorry, my dear. I must do what I can. All that I can." He kissed the top of her head, and they lay against each other in the dark, content to hold one another, lost in their own thoughts for a few moments, until Cora propped herself up on her elbow to face him.

"Do you remember what you said to me, the night you went to tell Edith that you knew about Michael Gregson?" she broke the silence softly.

A moment passed before he answered. "I remember you asking me to look after myself, but I reminded you that that is your job, and that you do it far better than I ever could."

She smiled half-heartedly at him before continuing. "You'd just told me the news from your doctor, and I wanted you to come to bed - "

"As you nearly always do," he interrupted, teasing.

She rolled her eyes. " - and wait until the morning to speak to Edith. But you said you had to tell her that night, at that moment, because 'you never know what's coming.'"

"Ah, right. I suppose I did."

She took a deep breath to steady herself, sitting up further and reaching to run her fingers through his thinning hair, and looked into his blue eyes she had always found so much comfort and strength in. "I want to tell you something. Robert, we don't know what's coming. You and I will both hope and pray for the best for Downton. If there is a solution to be found I have every confidence you and Mary and now Tom will find it. This place, these walls . . ." she glanced around the room that had long ceased to be 'hers' and was simply theirs. Where it was no secret that the servants and the girls could always find them together. "Our beautiful children were born here. . . I have loved you here and I want to die in your arms in this bed if God is willing."

"A very, very long time from now, I hope," he smiled, squeezing her lightly.

"A very, very long time from now," she smiled back. "But if we must leave and live a different life in a different place, you and I will still be all right, Robert. In these uncertain times, it matters a great deal to me that you know that and believe that. That if we have each other, and our beautiful family, we will still have what we need. Come what may. I may be worried, but I'm hopeful, and I will always be by your side."

He paused for a moment, seemingly unable to speak. "Cora. How do you always stay so positive? The house could fall down around us this moment, but you always manage to look on the bright side of things. You always make me feel better. I don't deserve your faith in me, after all we've been through."

"Of course you do, Robert. I chose you then and I chose you now."

"For better or for worse?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion as he cupped her face with his hand.

"For all of it. Forever," she answered simply, bringing his hand to her lips to kiss his knuckles, smiling at the tender look on his face. "Well, I've said what I wanted to say. I know you have a big meeting tomorrow, darling. Shall we get our rest?"

He nodded, pulling her back down to nestle her head into the crook of his neck, and arms around each other, they both slept better than they had in weeks.

"You're still here," she whispered in surprise when he opened his eyes. Oh, but she'd missed waking up in his arms, missing seeing him like this - his hair in a thousand directions, looking adorably young, and delightfully affectionate as he adjusted to the waking world.

"So it would seem," he managed, moving with surprising speed for one just awake to turn her in his arms and snuggle her back up to his chest. She giggled and wiggled against him, threading their fingers together across her chest.

"Hmm," he grunted into her ear. "God, but I've missed you in the mornings."

"I've been right here," she reminded him delicately.

"I know, dearest. I know." He held her for a moment longer before continuing. "I am quite rested this morning, and would love nothing more than to stay here and prove it to you, but I'm afraid I must be off. Like time, Murray and Mary will wait for no man."

Cora allowed herself a tiny sigh. "Of course, darling," she turned over her shoulder and kissed him on the cheek and then the lips. "Perhaps, if you can, after luncheon, maybe the two of us could - "

"Yes," he answered.

She giggled. "But I haven't even said what I wanted to do with you, silly man!"

"Doesn't matter," he kissed her. "Yes."