Dear David,

I know it has been quite some time since we last wrote one another, and for that I am truly sorry. But I write to you now, not for my sake, but for Ann's. David, I fear for her well-being. She's not at all well, and this family she's married into believes it better to ship her off to some unknown institution than to love and care for her themselves. I do hope you might find the means to come and see to her. I believe your presence might just be the thing to bolster her spirits.

I'm afraid, I am utterly useless as her friend, and it's brought me such terrible grief. Mama insists we embark to a country estate in Yorkshire. We must make haste, she says. Although I cannot fathom a day or so delay to our journey making much difference. Her health is my first concern, I only wish Mother felt or Lady Covington felt the same.

Please David, even if a journey isn't probable, write to her. I'm sure she must be terrible lonely there. And who knows how horrid the conditions are. Enclosed is the name and address of where she's staying, along with the estate name should you need to be in touch with me. I expect us to be there a short while, but the return to Covington Place seems more daunting and less exciting than ever before.

I've thought of you more in recent days. I wonder, have you thought of me? How selfish of me to even consider such an idea given Ann's dire state. I suppose I cannot help the feelings that have slowly bubbled back up to the surface. I hope you will forgive me that.

If nothing else comes of this letter, I implore you to consider your sister. England has not been as kind to her as I'm sure your family has hoped.

Your Friend Always,

Cora Levinson

Her eyes flickered upward, through the narrow pane of her carriage window. Rosendale Manor looked different to her now with its many ornately carved out gables and twisted spires rising into the hazy grey fog above. She was filled with a sense of foreboding and dread, studying its stony façade.

This sensation didn't lessen as the carriage jolted into motion. She leaned back in her seat, exhaling deeply and closing her eyes.

"She'll be well cared for, Cora. By people who are experienced in handling similar afflictions," Martha tried to assure softly.

Cora winced at the sharpness inside of her chest, pressing her forehead to the cool glass of the window. Keeping her eyes closed, she sighed tiredly, "Please Mother, let's not discuss it now."

She heard the rustling of her mother's skirt as she leaned forward in her seat. And then a reassuring hand squeezed her knee, "Rest easy, dear. We'll talk later."

Her mother's words should have brought her comfort. Instead, she felt her heart weigh heavy with guilt. You should have done more, she decided. The thought of a letter home brought little comfort to her. Even if he did receive it, how could he possibly help Ann? Even if he could come, how could he rescue her? Even if he did save her, how could she ever face him again?

You're the bravest girl I know.

The words struck her almost as though a hand had slapped her cheek. Bringing her gloved hand up to her face, Cora massaged her temples with thumb and forefinger to alleviate the pressure that started to build behind her eyes.

How differently he would feel once he read her letter. Maybe it was for the best that she was journeying to Downton now. She wouldn't have to rely on his high opinion of her any longer. Maybe, if all went according to plan, she would only have to rely on Lord Downton's.

They arrived tired from their journey, but still managed through the general welcoming proceedings of the Downton staff and family. And for that, Robert was glad. Even in her worn out state, Miss. Levinson was a sight for sore eyes.

At his father's urging and his mother's displeasure, he stepped forward to hand both the elder and the younger Levinson woman from the carriage. His hand lingered on the younger, Miss. Levinson's, even as her eyes glanced about everywhere but his face.

"Welcome to Downton, Miss. Levinson," He bowed slightly, and caught her sneaking a look from the side of her eyes.

The corners of her mouth twitched before she was looking for her mother again, who was already engaged in greeting both of his parents.

Robert couldn't help but feel a slight sting of nerves. He thought they had left things on good terms. And suddenly the idea that perhaps two weeks of no contact had changed things for her.

He released her hand, and she moved away from him, curtsying politely to both of his parents before Rosamund reached forward to embrace her fully.

Brief introductions of the senior staff were swiftly made, and then Mama was asking, "Shall we have some tea while your rooms are readied?"

"Well," Martha looked over to Cora and then back at Violet, "if that's what you have prepared for us…"

"It is customary," Violet explained before turning on her heel and leading the charge back into the house.

Rosamund took Cora's arm and whispered something inaudible to her. Which left Robert to take Martha by the arm. He chanced a smile, and remarked, "I hope it was a pleasant journey, Mrs. Levinson."

"It was long, Lord Downton," She exhaled. "Forgive my daughter and I for our lack of conversation, we were not prepared to take tea straight away."

"Of course," He nodded as they passed their way into the atrium. "If you'd like, I can see that your rooms are readied expediently."

"That would lovely, Lord Downton," She patted his arm, and added in a lowered voice, "I'm sure my daughter would be forever grateful for a chance at a proper lie down."

As they walked across the threshold of the library, he glanced over at Miss. Levinson, and taking in the faraway look in her dimly lit eyes, he decided perhaps it was for the best to see that the housekeeper readied their rooms well before the dressing gong.

"He was ever so kind as to see that our rooms were ready."

This marked the third time Mother told her. The first had been whenever they ascended the winding staircase, trailing behind the housekeeper, Mrs. Evans. The second time as she was stroking her hair softly as sleep soon overcame Cora. And now again, as she was seated in front of the dressing table, Lucy adorning her neck with a string of dark stones and pearls.

"Yes," Cora mumbled quietly, pulling on her white gloves, "how very kind."

"Cora," Martha's voice strained, prompting her daughter to turn in her seat and meet her gaze.

"Yes, Mother?" She questioned primly, arching a brow.

Martha opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to find the right words to say. But they both knew that nothing could be said to take away the guilt she felt at abandoning one of her oldest and dearest friends in her time of desperate need.

So, she merely settled for, "How lovely you look in that dress."

Cora offered a stiff smile, her eyes dropping, "Thank you, Mother."

She sat near the fireplace in the drawing room, only half partaking in the conversation among the other ladies. Her mind kept drifting in and out of the present, like the flickering flames in the hearth. One minute, she was listening to Lady Grantham go on about the work involved in organizing the stalls for vendors and games, the next, she was thinking of a letter hopefully sailing across the Atlantic at present. Which in, turn brought on thoughts of shame for the girl who was probably suffering in a darkened, locked room somewhere.

It must have read on her face, for Lady Grantham brought it to the group's attention, "Are you quite unwell, Miss. Levinson?"

Cora's eyes found her mother's first, who sat on the other end of the settee, and noticed a wariness spreading there. She swallowed and glanced down at her folded hands before offering her best smile to Lady Grantham, "Just tired, Milady."

"The journey was a long one, Lady Grantham," Martha chimed in.

"Mmm…" Lady Grantham inclined her head, her expression still burning critically into Cora. "Well, perhaps you should retire before the gentleman join us. We all must be well rested and ready to entertain when the other guests arrive."

"Oh Mama, surely Miss. Levinson could wait for Rob…" Rosamund began, rather disappointed at this notion.

"I thank you kindly for the suggestion, Lady Grantham. I should gladly take the offer," Cora set her glass down on the table beside her place. Brushing off the wrinkles in her skirts and stood slowly, "Dinner was lovely, thank you again for all your hospitality."

"Cora?" She felt her mother tug at her skirt, rooting her in place. She asked, her voice filling with concern, "Will you be alright on your own?"

"Of course, Momma," She bobbed her head, and squeezed her hand tightly before bidding everyone goodnight.

Once she made it into the main entrance of the house, she heard footsteps coming from the depths inside the house. Deciding it was likely none of her business what any of the staff might be up to, Cora pressed on to the grand staircase. It wasn't until she reached the first landing that she realized the footsteps didn't belong to the staff, but rather to Lord Downton and his father.

"Miss. Levinson?" She halted, and turned in place.

Seeing the perplexed look across his face, she tried her best at a weakened smile, "Lord Downton, forgive me, I am rather tired."

Robert glanced back at his father, and then up at her, his brightened expression fading into mild disappointment.

"I uh," Lord Grantham cleared his throat, "shall see what the ladies have decided for entertainment for us." He opened the door leading back into the sitting room, leaving the pair of them alone.

Cora looked down at her hands, anxiously running across the top of the bannister. "Forgive me, Lord Downton," She murmured once more, feeling even more guilty for the look of disappointment she saw moments ago.

"Oh no, I…" His footsteps echoed throughout the hall as he approached. "…that is, there is nothing to forgive, Miss. Levinson. I only wish you well."

"My mother told me you had our rooms prepared promptly," She dared a look in his direction. Her mouth edged into a slight smile, "I thank you for that."

"It was no trouble," He clasped his hands together behind him and shrugged. "We like to ensure all our guests are as comfortable as we are."

"That's very kind," She remarked softly.

"I wonder if we might…" Robert started, and then stopped whenever she looked up at him expectantly. Even the slightest light behind her pale blue eyes was enough to catch him off guard. "…that is, if you aren't feeling too tired following breakfast. I should like to show you Downton properly."

Nodding, Cora looked down between them and replied, "I welcome the opportunity to see more of it."

"Well good, that's…"

The click and whirl of a door opening prompted both of them to look back to the drawing room that Lord Grantham had disappeared to a few moments earlier.

Rosamund appeared in the doorway and called to her brother, "Robert, Mama's asking for you."

"Right, of course," He bobbed his head and cast another apologetic glance at him.

She smiled and tried to tease, "Better go then."

He stilled her hand atop the bannister, and then took a step closer, his fingers wrapping around it. "Goodnight, Miss. Levinson," He lifted her hand to his lips, and pressed a quick kiss there.

It was barely anything resembling passion or desire, yet it was enough for her to linger there a few moments longer until he shut the door to the sitting room behind himself. She continued ascending the stairs to her room, feeling as though a heaviness had been lifted from her shoulders.

I know it's been a thousand years since I wrote anything for this. But the mood struck me, and I missed these precious babies. So here I go again haha. I know its short, and hardly descriptive. But I haven't really written properly in a while so…it is what it is I guess. I'm sure most of you don't even remember this story or the things going on with it, and that's totally ok. If you want to keep reading…awesome! If not, that's cool too. I've decided to finish this for myself, so I can say with confidence, "yes I finished a multi-chapter." But of course, I'll be tickled pink if anyone reads this, and decides it's kind of nice.