Mid-June

"Cora?" Robert brought the telephone to where she sat at her vanity brushing her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he did. "Your mother." As she put the brush down and held the receiver to her ear, he continued to get dressed for dinner.

"Momma? How are you?" She rested her other hand on her growing belly.

"Oh, fine, Cora," Martha said. "Listen though, I didn't call to chat. I wanted to ask you something."

"Yes?" Cora covered the mouthpiece for a moment to whisper to Robert, "Could you get my shoes and stockings?"

Robert nodded and pulled a pair of tights from her dresser drawer. She shook her head with a grimace. His face fell, and he rooted around for a different pair.

Martha kept going, "… thought that you all would enjoy coming out for July 4th and your father's birthday."

"Wait, hold on, Mother." Cora shook her head again as he brought over a different pair of stockings and heeled shoes. "Robert, it's summer. And I'm roasting a turkey in here. Sheer hose, please, since Violet refuses to let me go bare-legged for dinner. And, heels? Are you trying to kill me?"

"I'm sorry." His grin drooped, and he went back to the dresser.

Her brow furrowed, Cora spoke to her mother again. "Who is 'you all'?"

Martha sighed exaggeratedly. "You weren't listening to me, were you?" When Cora started to say something, she interrupted. "Never mind. I asked if all of you – the two of you, Rosamund, Marmaduke, Violet, Patrick – you know, the 'gang' –" she paused to chuckle – "would be interested in flying out. I'll pay, if that's any sort of issue. Your father would love it, and I thought it would be a fun surprise for him."

"Wait, you mean everyone, don't you?" Cora glanced up at Robert, who approached her with another selection of footwear and a questioning look. She shook her head and put a hand up for him to stop. "When did you mean for us to come out there? And for how long?"

"I thought a few weeks at the least. And it will take maybe – what? – a week and a half or two to sort the details of travel, especially since you're pregnant. You should get the doctor's permission first, of course. But barring his saying no, it should be a nice little trip for all of you before the baby arrives."

"A 'little trip'? Mother, that's not exactly a little trip. And you're asking six of us here to go." She watched Robert flop down into a chair near her, clutching a pair of sheer stockings and flats and sporting a thoroughly bewildered look.

"We have better air conditioning…" Martha cajoled, and Cora could almost picture the devilish look on her face.

Cora gave an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, I'll talk to Robert about going. But you're going to have to invite the others. I'm not doing it for you."

Martha chuckled. "I didn't expect you to. Now, I know you're getting ready for dinner, so I'll let you go, and I'll call you tomorrow so you can tell me yes."

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Cora couldn't help her own chuckle. "Yes, Momma. Talk to you tomorrow. I love you."

"Goodbye, darling. I love you too. Give Robert a kiss for me."

"I will. Goodbye." Cora hung up and looked at Robert. "Fancy a trip across the pond to the good ol' U S of A?"

"Are you in any state to be taking a trip like that?" He held up the items for her approval.

"Those are thigh highs, not regular hose, right?" At his nod, she said, "Yes, they're fine. And why do you ask it like that? I'm pregnant, not ill."

Robert suppressed a sigh and knelt down in front of her, slipping one of the rolled stockings over her foot. "Cora, I only meant that you're six months pregnant and maybe air travel isn't the best idea."

Cora didn't suppress her sigh. But she brushed her fingers gently through his hair. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm hot and cranky, and Momma said something about better air conditioning."

Settling the band of the first stocking in place along her thigh under her dress, he looked up at her. "I simply want to make sure it's safe. If you want us to go visit them, and it is safe, then of course we will."

She watched as he slid the other stocking over her toes. "Well, she wants all of us to go – your whole family, everyone who was here at Christmas. For about three weeks."

At this, his hand stilled just below her knee, and his head snapped up. "What? All of us? In one house again? For three weeks?"

"Robert," she said, chuckling, "it's a very large house. And it's not like we don't live with your parents already."

"Yes, but Rosamund and Mama together…." He shook his head and finished rolling the stocking up her leg, his hands lingering there. "And then add your mother to the mix…." Robert just kept shaking his head.

Cora threaded her fingers into his curly locks. "Rosamund and Violet have been getting along much better since New Year's, Robert. And who says that Momma will convince all of them to come? I don't know if Marmaduke can get off work for that long anyway."

Robert grazed his fingertips over her knee, then back up over the top of the stocking again, thinking. "He's the president, Cora. I think he could probably work it out. You know how grateful he and Rosamund are to your parents. They'd arrange it in a heartbeat."

"And Momma really did sound keen to have all of us. She wanted it as a surprise for Daddy's birthday." She bent down a bit and kissed his head. "And she did tell me to check with the doctor first. It would be nice to be home for a little while before the baby comes, Robert."

"I know." He raised his eyes to her face again. "If the doctor gives the okay, Cora, we'll go." At her smile, he grinned, then lifted the skirt of her dress enough to press a kiss to her knee, then above it.

"Robert," she said in a low voice. "There's no time for that. Besides, I feel huge and completely unattractive."

"You may feel that way, but I can certainly assure you that you are not." He brushed a final kiss over her shin, and, smoothing her dress down, leaned up and kissed her on the mouth. "And if you aren't convinced, then I'll have to try again tonight. After dinner." Grinning, he picked up her shoes and slid them on her feet.

"Thank you, my love." Cora cupped his chin in her hand and smiled wider.

Standing and helping her to do the same, he took her hand so they could go downstairs together. "It's my pleasure, sweetheart."

About an hour after dinner at Painswick House, when Rosamund and Marmaduke shared a drink in front of a favorite movie, the phone rang. Marmaduke hit the "pause" button as Rosamund lifted the receiver up.

"Hello?"

"Rosamund?" came the familiar voice. "It's Martha Levinson."

"Oh, hello, Martha!" Rosamund glanced at Marmaduke, who smiled. "To what do we owe the pleasure? You usually call on the weekend."

"Well, I had an idea. I thought that you and Marmaduke – and the others; I've already spoken to Cora – might want to come out here for a few weeks. It's Isidore's birthday next month, and we're throwing a huge party for him. I know he'd love to have all of you there. What do you think?"

Rosamund's eyebrows lifted. "Well, I don't know. It sounds like a lovely idea, Martha, but I'd have to ask Marmaduke."

"I figured as much. Go ahead. I'll wait." Martha fell silent.

Chuckling, Rosamund pulled the receiver away from her ear and covered the mouthpiece. "Martha wants to know if we can come out for a few weeks next month. She's inviting all of us; Isidore's birthday apparently. What do you think?"

"Do you want to go?"

"It might be a nice vacation. We've never been to America together, and you know Martha will make sure we have a good time." She laughed.

"Even if your mother goes too?" Marmaduke grinned.

"Stop it, you devil. Mama's been positively angelic lately – relatively speaking. And I rather enjoy seeing her exchanges with Martha. It might be worth a bit of discomfort, if it comes to that."

Marmaduke shrugged and placed a hand on Rosamund's knee, smiling. "If I can arrange it at work, then I say sure. Get the dates from her." He sipped the last of his drink and kissed her cheek before getting up to freshen it, picking up her empty glass as well.

Putting the telephone back to her ear, she said, "Martha? Yes, he says that if he can get away from work, then we'd be happy to come over. What are the dates?" She pulled a pad and pen over and wrote them down, nodding. "Are you planning a big bash for Independence Day as well?"

"Of course we are, Rosamund! And I can't wait for all of you to see how we do it up right!" Martha chuckled, and Rosamund could imagine the woman's wink at her if she were sitting there in front of her.

"Oh, please say you'll convince Mama to go. I would love to see her reaction to that." She looked up at her husband, taking the drink from his hand as he sat next to her again.

Martha laughed outright. "You and me both, kiddo. That'd be a hell of a laugh riot; I'll see what I can do. Look, I'll call you back tomorrow night? I should know from Cora and Robert at least by then."

"Sounds good, Martha. We'll speak to you tomorrow. Take care; goodnight." After the other woman's warm goodbye, she replaced the receiver and turned to Marmaduke.

"You are just raring for trouble, aren't you, Rosamund?" He smirked at her and had a long gulp of his Scotch.

"Always, my sweet devil. Always." She winked at him, then nestled back into the crook of his arm. "Now, where were we?"

At almost midnight Patrick held his wife against him, spooned up to her back and his fingers twined through hers as their flushed skin returned to its normal color and their heartbeats finally calmed down.

"Hmmmm," Violet purred. "I quite enjoyed that, Patrick. We'll have to try that one again later." She chuckled and ran her fingers along the arm he had draped over her stomach, tilting her head a bit to accommodate his kisses feathered along her neck.

"We could go ahead and try it again now," he murmured against her skin, running parted lips gently over her shoulder.

Violet shivered. "My, that feels lovely. You've almost got me persuaded…."

Lifting his head, he whispered with warm breath fanning along her ear, "What else can I do to win you over?" He nipped at her earlobe and moved the arm across her waist down, his fingers settling between her thighs.

A gasp escaped Violet's lips, which she licked, her eyes closing. "I thought you said you were tired, Patrick."

"Not anymore."

Patrick coaxed her to turn in his arms so he could kiss her properly, cupping her cheek, then her breast.

Then the phone rang.

"Ignore it," Violet whispered against his lips as it rang again. She ran her palms over his back, pulling him closer and teasing his tongue with hers.

But the phone continued to ring several more times, making Patrick pull back with a sigh.

"They're gone now." She grinned. "Kiss me again."

Just as he'd about crushed his lips to hers with a smirk, the phone trilled out most rudely.

Reaching behind him, Patrick picked it up with a shouted, "It's midnight; what in the bloody hell do you want?"

An answering chuckle made him gape. "Well, that's a greeting I'm not like to soon forget, Patrick! I gather I'm interrupting something." Martha kept chuckling in that mischievous way she had.

"Well, I – um – I –" he stuttered, going bright red. "Yes, in fact. You are. Why are you calling here at midnight, Martha? And don't tell me you don't know we're five bloody hours ahead."

"Nope, but, to be honest, it did slip my mind."

Violet frowned, pushing the heel of her hand against Patrick's arm and hissing, "What on earth does she think she's doing?"

Patrick shook his head at his wife, then said to Martha, "Well? What's so important that the time difference 'slipped your mind'?" He didn't normally talk to Martha thus, but the interruption had annoyed him.

"I was wanting to have all of you over for a few weeks. As a sort of birthday surprise for Isidore. He would so love if you and Violet were part of the group, Patrick."

He could imagine her grin and complete lack of being bothered by her disruption or his tone. And he couldn't help chuckling despite himself. "Well, I suppose it would depend upon when. And did you say 'all'?"

At his chuckle, Violet sat up, her hands upon her hips and her brow thunderous. "Patrick Crawley," she hissed again, "why are you not hanging up?"

Shaking his head with a frown, he concentrated upon Martha's voice again. "…and Marmaduke, and I've already spoken with Cora about their coming as well. Do think about you and Violet coming up. I told Rosamund July 1st through the 21st, if Marmaduke can arrange it. That way we can celebrate the 4th and his birthday the next week. I want to show you folks the works here. Say you'll fly over, Pat."

"Well," he said, running his fingers through his hair, "it'll be up to Violet, but it sounds like a good time."

"I'm sure you can think of a way to make her agree, Patrick."

Patrick could see the smirk on her face with that statement. He laughed. "I'll do my best."

"I know she'll appreciate that," Martha replied. "I'll let you get back to it then. Call you tomorrow."

When he hung up, he turned and sighed to see that he faced a glowering, naked Violet with her arms crossed over her chest. "Violet, come now, don't look like that."

"Why not?" she asked shrilly. "Apparently whatever the Queen of Sheba has to say is more important than what we were doing." Violet blushed, but maintained her scowl.

"Darling, please, don't. She apologized," he prevaricated, attempting to placate his wife. "And she called with an invitation. She wants the whole family to fly out for a few weeks for Isidore's birthday. A surprise for him. Now I know you understand that – a wife wanting to plan a perfect birthday for her husband." Patrick wore that look on his face that he knew at least sometimes melted her obstinacy, appealing to her sense of wifely duty.

"Couldn't she have telephoned earlier, then? Patrick, I'm somewhat less than amused right now." But she thought back to his own birthday and found the corners of her mouth quirking up. Nevertheless, she kept her arms hugged tightly around herself. "And why on earth would I ever want to go to America? I can't think of anything worse, really."

"Violet, my dear, don't you remember what a rough time we were having of things when they got here before Christmas?" he reminded her gently, sidling closer to her and touching her arm, pressing his lips to her shoulder. "Don't you remember how much they helped us? It's only a few weeks, and, who knows? We might enjoy it."

Violet wriggled a bit and let out a "humph." "I'm still annoyed with you."

Patrick smiled against her shoulder, catching the undercurrent of acquiescence to her tone. "How can I make up for it, Violet?" he breathed as he trailed kisses over her clavicle. "Tell me."

Her lips began to curl upward at the huskiness his voice took on. "I don't know," she said as she leaned toward him, into his kisses. "I think it will take something truly spectacular to help me get over this, Patrick."

"At least let me try, my darling." He curled his fingers around her other arm and tugged her closer, pressing her – crossed arms and all – to his chest and suckling her neck.

"Well," she said, endeavoring to adopt a haughty tone, even as she began tingling with pleasure and flushing with need, "I suppose I could let you try." Gasping as he nibbled on her earlobe, her arms broke apart and stole around his waist, her hands slipping down to cup his behind, eliciting a guttural groan from him.

When she giggled a bit at this, Patrick knew she'd completely let go of her ire. "Hmmm," he hummed against her throat. "It would be interesting be see if this is any different in America."

Violet laughed. "You're ridiculous, Patrick." She shrieked as he suddenly pinned her back against the bed.

"Yes. And I don't care, as long as you're right here with me to point it out." Patrick grinned, then silenced her retort with an intense and loving kiss.

The next afternoon, Martha sat at her desk with a notepad and a cup of coffee. Putting the telephone down for the third time that day, she made a notation on the pad and grinned. Picking up the phone, she dialed her travel agent.

"Yes, hello. This is Martha Levinson." She paused, then said, "Yes, thank you. But these arrangements aren't for us this time. I need to arrange air travel for six from London to New York." She smiled wider. "That's right. My daughter and husband and his family are coming to visit."