She promised herself she wouldn't begin to wilt until she was certain he'd gone. She waited until his hand released the knob and it clinked back into place, signaling that he had let go of any attempt to fix things between them this evening.

Then she let herself be carried on another wave of unyielding loss and grief. She bounded artlessly towards the bed, her face concealed by her right palm, tightly pressed against her lips in an effort to mask any sounds of her hurt. Wrenching open the beside table, she began rifling around for her handkerchief, and soon replaced her hand with the square piece of fabric.

How dare he say those things to her? How dare he say them, especially after all that business with his mother at dinner? She hadn't even been present, and Cora supposed that was what had bothered her most. She trusted him to hold the side for them in her absence. Why, this time, he had chosen not to, she simply couldn't understand.

It was Sybil after all. Their darling Sybil. Mama didn't have any claim over her beyond that of the doting grandmother. Yet, she staked claim over the situation they found themselves in. She drove a wedge in between them, a wedge that Cora had left for her to insert herself in.

This feeling of betrayal hadn't been felt since the early days. They had grown past that sensation, moved on, matured together, grown more open with their communication. Yet, here they were, retreating back to old ways. It made her want to scream.

But her upbringing and a life's worth of experience in this house and in this position had taught her that that type of behavior was childish, and certainly not the right approach. So she cried quietly in the four corners of her handkerchief, only blowing her nose whenever she could scarcely breathe.

It wasn't only Robert and their clipped conversation over tea, and their more heated disagreement just now. It was all the memories, all the hopes and dreams she'd held in her minds eye for Sybil from the first time she held her as a tiny bundle in her arms. They were now being threatened. Anything she ever hoped for Sybil's future was now slipping away from reality, and becoming nothing more than a fantasy.

She'd already said goodbye to her baby, and now she was forced to saying goodbye to witnessing the start of her new life.

She shouldn't be surprised. She knew the protocol. Having been married to Robert for the majority of her life, she knew it was always about the look of the thing. But she never imagined that would always apply to the both of them. She learned early on that in most cases it did. But this was their daughter. This was Sybil. Their first of their daughters to be married. As her mother, she, Cora Crawley, should be there. Even if her father, Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham, could not, she should be granted some leniency.

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, Cora felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. She pressed the square handkerchief against her mouth, whimpering lowly. Her shoulders shuddered as her stifled cries racked through her, and trying to hold it all in only made her pain run deeper.

But the twist of the brass knob from the other side of the door reminded her that she couldn't fully give in. She wouldn't surrender yet. She hastily dabbed beneath her eyes, twisting the handkerchief in her lap as the door squealed open.

"Cora..." He exhaled heavily, his remorse palpable in the single intonation of her name.

She pinched her eyes shut, feeling a similar pang deep inside of her heart. Inhaling, her fingernails dug into her palms as she steadied herself long enough to say, "Robert please, I'm rather tired."

"I don't wish to argue," He went on quietly, his footsteps shuffling deeper into the room.

If she was being truthful, she didn't want to either. But he gave her no other alternative.

"You know I..." He paused here before clearing his throat to finish, "...I don't like to leave things like this until morning. Not if we can help it."

She nodded and sniffed, wordlessly agreeing. She knew all too well of his desire never to go to bed on bad terms. The early days had been too full of that, and too fraught with heartache as a result. Nowadays they made a point to set things right before falling asleep.

Cora then heard herself asking in a shaky voice, "Then...what is it that you came in here to say?"

"I came in here to apologize," He answered simply, his words laced with regret.

The silence that settled between them was soon followed by the scuffling of his feet again. She could tell from the increasing sounds of his footfall against the carpet that he was drawing nearer. And shortly after, she saw him cross her field of vision. He stopped in front of the fireplace that lined the same wall she faced.

"I want things to be right with us again," His hand rested on the edge of the mantle, his eyes transfixed momentarily by the bright flames dancing in the hearth. And then slowly, his eyes lifted towards hers, and he probed cautiously, "Don't you?"

In seeing his sharply inverted brow, and his mouth twisted to form a saddened half smile, she felt herself grow defensive. He was in pain, and it hurt her to see it, even if she felt as though she wasn't in the wrong. "Of course I do but..." She stopped herself suddenly from catapulting into another heated debate. Because that had worked so well the first time, she inwardly chastised.

"Yes?" He arched a questioning brow.

There were so many things she wanted to say. So many things that she could say, and that would cause this next part of their conversation to go horribly wrong. And in spite of wanting to hold her ground. In spite of her not wanting to surrender to his will, she was tired. It was exhausting arguing with him.

So she went the less aggressive route, and instead, laid all of her insecurities out in the open. Insecurities that even now, after twenty-some odd years of marriage to him, still flared up from time to time. Shaking her head, she asked him sadly, "Why did you let her do it, Robert? Why did you let her push in when it wasn't even settled between us?" Her eyes were filling up again, and she resisted the urge to tear her gaze away from his.

"Cora," He exhaled again, his deep felt emotions expelling in the single breath. "Please believe me when I tell you this...I did not intend for my mother to settle this for us." He took several steps towards her, shaking his head a bit as he continued speaking, "I did not intend for that to happen." He knelt before her, his hands hovering in between them as he wrestled with grasping her hands or not. In the end, he rested them on top of hers, declaring firmly, "I swear to you."

His hands were hot covering hers, but she didn't move to flip over her palms and interlace their fingers. That would be an act of reassurance. And she wouldn't relent that much; not yet, at least.

Her saddened tone rose an octave, her next words stretching thin, "Then why is everything being decided for me on this matter? Why don't I have a say in this? I am Sybil's mother." She clenched her knees sharply enough for him to feel the tendons in her hands ripple as she emphasized her point.

"Yes," He let out a slow breath, lowering his gaze between them. Cora could tell he was choosing his next words just as carefully as she had been. "You are, and no one is disputing your position."

She heard the words he stressed, and pursed her lips tightly together as she tried to decipher their precise meaning. Angling her face forward, she tried to capture his eye once more. Sensing her attention on him, he glanced up again and proffered a crooked, half smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"But Cora," He took in another breath, trying to steady his nerves. His hands trembled against hers as he went on, "Mama chiming in with her own opinions or not, you know we cannot go. The nature of our position in the county..."

"Your position, you mean," She piped up defensively, her pale cheeks flushing a rosy hue.

She saw the flash of iciness in his gaze, and instantly she regretted her hasty interjection.

Pinching her eyes shut, she looked off to one side, "Forgive me, I don't know what overcame me."

"You're my wife," He remarked steadily, aiming to keep his tone neutral. "Which makes it your position as well."

"Robert I-" Her voice stalled and she swallowed, hard. She inhaled and then sighed, her eyes resting on him once more, "This is all very difficult for me."

He nodded, his lips pressed together to stifle the obvious emotions that spread across his face.

"I know you don't always agree with the way we've done things here."

She bit on her lower lip, resisting the urge to argue this point with him. It would be a futile one anyway. He was speaking the truth.

"But Cora, isn't it enough that we've allowed it to happen? We haven't even begun to deal with what the horrid newspapers will undoubtedly spew."

Her gaze narrowed, and he cleared his throat before swallowing and thoughtfully selecting his next words.

"What I mean is, that will be difficult enough for us. Will it not?" He tilted his head to one side, an expression of quiet pleading crossing his face. His hands tightened over hers urgently, and she felt her chest tighten. "We shouldn't give them anymore fuel to add to that fiery frenzy. And our presence at the wedding will only enable things to get more out of control than they already are."

Rationally his points were sound. He wasn't being harsh. He was, like always, looking out for the best interests of their family. And while her brain teetered on the edge of conceding, her heart gravely protested.

"Robert," She swallowed the lump in her throat before taking a deep, steadying breath. "I understand your point of view, truly, I do." The corners of her mouth twitched reassuringly.

"But you do not agree?" He surmised from the pause that soon followed.

She offered an apologetic smile before confiding with a slight shake of her head, "I miss her terribly. I know I shouldn't. She's no longer our girl but..." She sighed before looking down and muttering, "...I miss her terribly. And her choice of husband. It..." Her eyes flickered up to find his again, "...it frightens me. The life she's chosen. I..." Her vision blurs again, and she looks off to one side, blinking hard.

His hands squeezed hers tightly, and she sensed him shifting closer to her. "Oh Cora..." He exhaled with a heavy heart.

It was the softness in his tone contrasted with the strength in his presence that set her off again. She hated admitting it. How much she needed his strong arms to wrap around her shoulders, and draw her body into his. How much she wanted him to tell her that Sybil would be fine, and that her choice of husband wouldn't be the ruin of her.

But she discovered as he settled beside her on the bed, tucking her into his solid embrace, that there was only so much he could do. In spite of the uncertainty that loomed ahead, she knew they would at least be on the same side then.

Sorry this took forever. I know I haven't written anything in months. So I apologize if this sucks. Anyway...there might be a couple of other chapters to come in this.