A/N: Just something that was inspired by a drabble request on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy and I'd love to know what you think!

"Cora, if you do not get up on the horse I cannot actually teach you how to ride it."

Robert stood a few feet away from his wife of four weeks and tried to control the tone of his voice; though he could feel himself getting slightly more irritated by the second. They had been standing outside the stable for nearly half an hour by this point and it seemed as though they would continue in this fashion for the foreseeable future. Cora was standing beside a large dark brown horse that had been carefully chosen for her and she was dressed in her new riding ensemble—a gift from Rosamund, who had taken her into Ripon to be fitted for the dark gray woolen habit and matching hat. She looked incredibly uncomfortable and had been eyeing the horse wearily since its arrival from the stalls several minutes earlier.

"Yes, yes I know," She replied quietly, still looking up at the horse. "I just—perhaps we should do this another day, or in the spring."

Robert sighed and attempted to not roll his eyes. "Cora, you said you wanted to learn how to ride, did you not? We've got the horse out and ready, you are dressed and ready, and I would really not care to go through the whole process again!"

She turned to look at him and her eyes were darker and full of an emotion he could not quite recognize; she most certainly did not look pleased. She said nothing, though, and only turned back to the horse. He heard her sigh quietly and she reached up to pull the hat off her head.

"This was a silly idea, I really don't think I can do this." She looked down at the hat in her hands and tried to ignore the lump building in her throat. It seemed as though she disappointed her husband in a new way with each passing day. She had only been at Downton for sixteen days—as the first fourteen days of their marriage had been spent on a rather quiet and slightly uncomfortable honeymoon in Paris—and yet, somehow, each day she said or did something that evoked the same bemused expression from him. It was becoming rather apparent that he did not really want to teach her all these things; things she was clearly supposed to already know how to do. How was she to know she would marry into a riding family, as they referred to themselves? And how was she to know that her husband would have no clue how to speak to her without making her feel as though she was playing the wrong part in the wrong play?

"Are there not horses in America?" He interrupted, still trying to discern exactly what the problem was.

"Yes, of course there are. We would go up to Saratoga in the summer, sometimes, for the races." As she explained, she watched his expression turn to confusion once more. She quickly remembered that he had no idea where Saratoga was, nor would he have any idea what the races there were like.

"Yes, well—" he paused and frowned. "Could you please get on the horse, now? I'd rather like to get this over with."

Defeated, Cora straightened up and nodded slowly, turning back to the large and dangerous looking animal in front of her. She allowed Wyatt, Downton's groom, to help her up as Robert mounted his horse and inched closer to hers. She felt like a fraud as the young man helped her up into the saddle. She hadn't the slightest idea how to sit properly and when she moved to swing her leg over the other side, she heard Robert and Wyatt begin to chuckle.

"I shall take it from here, Wyatt." Robert dismissed the man before explaining that women, even when learning, never rode that way. Sidesaddle was the only way for a lady to ride properly. She nodded once more in understanding and tried to correct herself—only to nearly fall off, and so she clutched the neck of the horse instead.

"Robert, I—I really don't want to do this." Cora was still holding tightly to the horse's neck as he looked on with his eyebrows raised. He trotted up beside her and reached over to steady her. She looked up and saw that his expression was much softer as he held onto her arm and smiled at her.

"It's alright. I won't let anything happen to you," He said gently.

She watched as he released the reigns of his horse and turned to face her. He let his hand fall down to her thigh, and she was surprised by the tingling sensation his touch produced. She reddened slightly, as did he, and looked away. It was all still so strained; every touch and every word that passed between them seemed to be a litmus test of sorts. The somewhat startling truth was that they really did not know each other all that well, and even his hand on her thigh felt incredibly strange. As strange as it was, though, she could not help but think it was a rather pleasant feeling, and hopefully a gesture that he would perhaps repeat during their little lesson.

His hand was still on her thigh as he spoke and he patted it slightly to indicate his next direction. "Take your leg and swing it back over the pommel." He nodded down to the saddle and then removed his hand as she slowly guided her leg into the proper position.

"Thank you," Cora whispered quietly. Robert only nodded in response and picked up her reigns, handing them to her once she was seated properly.

She followed carefully as he led their horses out to a far field, a distance from the house. It was November, so the leaves on the trees had turned to brilliant reds and oranges, all crunching beneath the hooves of the horses as they continued along their way. They made it to the location Robert had in mind and even managed to ride around for nearly an hour without incident. Cora was an excellently focused student and for once Robert seemed pleased each time she moved correctly or steered the horse in the right direction. All was going well until they made it down to a small brook that divided the edge of the field and the woods beyond.

Robert was feeling rather good about himself. He had successfully taught his wife how to ride properly—a feat his mother had deemed impossible earlier that morning—and now she would be able to accompany him on the hunts. That was something he had been rather selfishly looking forward to ever since their marriage, as Cora would make a most lovely riding and hunting companion. His friends would no doubt be jealous of his new wife. They trotted close to the brook before Robert motioned for her to stop. He smiled at Cora before motioning to the water. "I think we should jump it," he called over to her, a mischievous grin playing at his lips.

Cora's eyes immediately widened and she shook her head. "No, I would really rather not!"

She watched as everything seemed to snap back into reality. As quickly as their light banter and smiles had come, once again, they were gone. Robert's mirthful expression darkened once more and he looked at her confusedly, wondering why on earth she was so terrified of jumping over such a small brook. He had been doing it since he was a child, as had Rosamund. There was certainly nothing terrifying about it and Cora was clearly overreacting. It seemed that their cultures were their biggest hurdles of all and it was taking far longer than he thought it would for them to get acclimated with one another. Robert rolled his eyes, without even realizing it, and frowned at his wife, who was watching him with hurt eyes.

"You'll never get over your fear if you do not at least try," he chastised.

Cora looked at him and felt herself growing angrier by the second. He looked so horribly smug sitting on his horse in his ridiculous little riding outfit. This whole thing was rather ridiculous, in fact. What sort of fun was it riding around the mud all afternoon? They called her American upbringing savage and uncouth while they spent their days chasing each other on horses and jumping over logs to exert their masculinity! It was absolutely insane, but yet again, she was the one with the issue; the one not living up to the expectations thrust upon her shoulders.

"I have been trying," She hissed angrily. "And meanwhile, you have been correcting me and making snide remarks all afternoon!"

"Cora, lets not be melodramatic! We do not have to jump the brook if you are too afraid," he said with a slight grin, still amused by the situation.

"I can't do this anymore," she cried. "Absolutely nothing I do is ever good enough for you." She wiped away a stray tear before adding more quietly, "and I don't think it ever will be."

"Cora, I was only teasing you!" Robert explained, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "You mustn't be so sensitive all the time."

Cora didn't reply, but Robert wished he could take the words back as soon as they came out of his mouth. He watched his wife's expression fall and her shoulders droop in defeat. Yet again, he had said the wrong thing and yet again it was his fault that she was unhappy. He knew things certainly were not perfect but he never meant to upset her. She looked so innocent and young and sad as she tried to sit up straight on the saddle and hold back the tears collecting at the corners of her eyes.

"Cora, I did not mean that—" He began, but she glared up at him and cut him off.

"No, you never mean it. But, really, you do." She turned to her horse and snapped the reigns. The horse looked up and immediately began to trot away much faster than she intended. Robert began to follow, calling her name, but Cora looked over her shoulder one last time and shouted, "don't follow me," before turning back and riding off in the direction of the woods.

Robert stopped his horse and watched her gallop away. He knew he should probably follow her, as she was certainly not a skilled rider, but she had done well during their lesson today. She didn't turn back again and soon she was lost, a blur among the deeply colored leaves on the path. It was only mid afternoon, and the sun was still shining brightly. Perhaps listening to her request would be best. Clearly, they both needed some time apart, and the path in the woods was very well marked. She would have no trouble navigating back after a few minutes. Robert exhaled once more before turning his horse around and galloping back toward the house.

Robert made his way up to his dressing room and deposited his riding boots and jacket haphazardly on the floor. He didn't feel like bathing yet, and so he flopped down onto his bed and began reading the book on his nightstand. Every third page, or so, fleeting thoughts of Cora would pass through his mind. Finally he resolved to stop thinking about the argument and made a concerted effort to focus only on his book. He and Cora would speak later, he decided. Robert spent a good portion of the afternoon engrossed in his novel before gazing at the small clock on his bedside table and realizing it was getting rather late. Quickly ringing for his valet, he left the book and went to go wash up before dinner.

Upon returning to his dressing room, Robert knew he needed to apologize to Cora before they went downstairs to eat. He did not particularly want to answer any questions at dinner and he knew his mother was bound to inquire about the riding lesson, and would take great amusement in badgering Cora with questions if she went down there not speaking to him. So, he took a breath and knocked softly on the adjoining door, hoping her maid was finished dressing her.

There was no answer. Perhaps she was angrier than he anticipated. He thought a bit of space would turn everything right, but apparently she was going to drag out the argument for the rest of the evening. He knocked again, a bit more insistently. This time, an unfamiliar voice said something unintelligible before the door clicked open. It was not Cora, but her maid, Miss March.

He looked over her shoulder into Cora's bedroom, which was empty. "Where is my wife?"

The young woman frowned and looked at him curiously. "She has not returned from riding, I—I thought she was with you, Lord Downton."

Robert immediately brushed past the maid and into her bedroom, looking around confusedly. For some unknown reason, he opened the large wardrobe to peek inside (of course, she would not be in there) and then into the washroom, which was also dark and empty. "What do you mean she has not come back, we were riding hours ago," he demanded. The maid looked bewildered and only shrugged her shoulders.

"I thought I was just to wait up here for Lady Downton," she explained.

Robert's thoughts suddenly jumbled together and he looked around the empty room once more. He had been back for hours, and looking out the window, he realized the sun was setting. It was certainly rather cold out and there was no way Cora was still riding around. She had to be somewhere in the house. Without another word, he rushed from the room and headed downstairs to find her.

His parents had not appeared downstairs for dinner yet and none of the staff had seen his wife since before they had gone out that afternoon. Robert had rushed through every downstairs room in a panic before knowing with certainty that Cora was not in the house. He had been married for only a month and he had officially lost his wife. Feeling his heart beat a bit faster, he decided the quickest way to resolve the situation would be to just ask Wyatt when she had returned her horse. He hurried off in the direction of the stables.

When Wyatt looked at him, concern obviously present in his eyes, and explained that Lady Downton had not yet returned with her horse, Robert felt as though he might pass out. He wanted to shout at the groom for not paying more attention, or for not alerting someone that she was still out, but it was not Wyatt's fault; he had told him that Cora was going to stay out riding when he returned his horse, hours earlier. Not wanting to waste any more time, he grabbed a pair of his old muddied riding boots that were kept out in the stable, mounted his horse, and took off frantically toward the woods.

Cora had been furious when she galloped off, shouting at Robert not to follow her. She had leaned into the horse as he taught her to do, and let the horse run along the path for what seemed like ages. She made it quite a ways into the thick of the woods along the path and was feeling rather good about her riding skills by that point. Her husband had clearly underestimated her and she resolved to show off her skills the next time he insisted on taking her out. She would show him and finally prove she was just as capable as any young woman that came from a riding family.

Cora may have overestimated her skills just a bit, though, because as she rode along determinedly, happy to be away from the house and Robert, she failed to notice the rather large sinkhole in the path ahead of her. She failed to steer the horse away, and before she knew it, the horse, still running at a fair speed, suddenly buckled and threw her right out of the saddle.

She landed several feet away in a large pile of brush and leaves that had collected alongside the dirt path. Her horse limped a few steps before stopping, unable to move any further. Cora sat dazedly on the ground for a few moments before wiping her face, which was covered with dirt and a few stray scratches, and trying to stand up.

Much to her horror, her own leg buckled beneath her as she moved to get up, with intense pain shooting up and down the bone. She cried out before falling back down. She did manage to reach for the lead of her horse, but beyond that, she was unable to move. So, she tied the lead to a low branch beside her and tried not to move her leg. She looked up at the sky, and realized it would be getting dark fairly soon. She had yelled at Robert not to come after her. It was then she knew no one would likely be coming to look for her for a very long time. Tears began to flow freely as she looked up at her injured horse and then down at her injured leg. She had been incredibly naïve to think she could ride off on her own like that. Perhaps Robert was right, she was too sensitive, too American, and not at all what any of them had expected her to be. She only cried harder as the cool breeze blew around her, kicking up leaves that flew against her face. It was her fault for thinking this would all work out. None of it was right, and now she would likely end up freezing to death out here. Worse, she doubted that Robert would even notice she was missing.

When they were in the house, she and Robert barely spoke. They were barely even in the same room except for dinners and then late at night. And it was always the same script they would run through each night. Only thirty days in and it was already quite predictable. Robert would knock on her door and approach the bed cautiously, as if she might attack him or something. She would plaster a faint smile on her face and move over slightly to make room for him beside her. He would blow out the candle on the bedside table and then kiss her once, sometimes twice, before covering her body with his own and carrying out what she supposed was their duty.

It was not all Robert's fault. She did not make it easy on him. She had been thrust into a rather confusing new world and she found herself withdrawing more and more as they days went on. She was quite sure he had noticed her reluctance to even have a long conversation with him. But still, they did what was expected of them. He was always very gentle with her; so gentle that she wondered if perhaps he thought she might break. When they finished, he would wrap his arms around her and she would lay her head against his soft pajamas. They never spoke afterwards but without fail he would hold her until he thought she was asleep, before escaping quietly back to his dressing room. She was never actually asleep. She had not done much sleeping since her arrival at the house. Instead, she would listen to him breathe and silently wish over and over that he might stay like that, with his arms around her, for the entire night.

None of that really mattered, though, because it was becoming apparent that she would not be sleeping in her bed this night. The sun was setting behind the tall trees and it was getting darker by the minute. Cora cried until she was nearly out of breath but besides her poor horse there was no one there to listen. She leaned down slightly and curled up against the tree behind her before closing her eyes and falling asleep.

Robert rode wildly down toward the woods, cursing his own stupidity and his penchant for being so foolish and stubborn. What sort of man would just let his wife ride off into the woods unattended? Clearly, he was not a very good husband. It had only been a month, but it seemed as though he had failed Cora repeatedly. His every attempt at humor was misinterpreted as sarcasm, his parents were incredibly difficult on her, and he could see she was unhappy. He thought he was trying but obviously he was not trying hard enough.

He had never been much good at expressing his feelings, and though he felt a strong sense of responsibility to protect Cora and to make her happy, he had no idea if that was what love felt like. He did happen to know what guilt felt like, though, because he felt that emotion with near constant regularity. He felt guilty every morning when he hid in the library, away from her. He felt guilty every time his mother laughed at her dress or her voice; and he felt exceedingly guilty taking her to bed each night, like some sort of means to an end. He knew he had to try harder. He had to tell her that he did not feel that way and that she was not just means to an end—she was his wife, and he wanted to make her happy.

He was pulled from his thoughts as he finally saw her horse on the path ahead, and he nearly cried out when he realized the limp figure on the ground beside it was his wife. She looked like a rag doll that had been tossed on the playroom floor. Her eyes were closed and her face was covered with dirt and small cuts. Her clothes looked just as bad. Robert nearly flew off his horse to get to her.

"Cora, Cora—" He brushed the hair away from her face and for a horrifying second wondered if she was breathing. He continued to shake her slightly and when she blinked her sleepy eyes open, she found her husband looking down at her with some sort of wild fear in his eyes. She moved to sit up, but felt the shooting pain in her leg once more and realized where they were and what had happened. Instinctively she reached out and clung tightly to Robert who was still murmuring her name over and over.

"I—I thought you wouldn't come for me," she managed to cry over choked sobs.

"Oh, god, Cora—please, please don't cry. I'm going take you back to the house." He was holding her tightly to his chest by that point, and upon realizing that her leg was hurt, he picked her up and was able to get her up onto his horse. He tied her horse's lead more securely to a nearby tree before mounting his horse behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist to reach the reigns.

"I'll send Wyatt right back for your horse," he explained. Cora only nodded and leaned back against his body, relishing in the warmth of his tight embrace.

Robert rode as fast as he could back toward Downton but he was careful not to jostle Cora. They stayed silent during the ride but he did try to keep his arms wrapped around her as tightly as he could. They made it back to the stables faster than he thought possible and Robert explained everything to Wyatt before cradling Cora in his arms and carrying her back to the house.

The doctor was summoned and Robert sat beside Cora on her bed to await his arrival. Servants were fluttering in and out of the room bringing water and blankets and anything that might make the situation a little better. Cora was still wearing her muddied riding habit and seemed rather dazed, not really looking at the commotion all around her. But, Robert made sure that she was bundled up in blankets before dismissing all the servants. He hadn't let go of her hand since their return and every so often he would squeeze it slightly, as if he needed confirmation that she was indeed still beside him.

The doctor arrived, declared her leg sprained not broken, and left soon after he arrived.

Miss March had been waiting patiently outside the door to help Cora bathe and dress for bed, but much to her—and to Cora's—surprise, Robert dismissed the maid without explanation. He disappeared into her washroom and she listened as the water in began to run. He reappeared a moment later and lifted her off the bed and carried her to the tub.

"Miss March, though excellently qualified, would be unable to lift you," he explained, setting her down on the small chair beside the tub. Cora nodded slightly in agreement and watched with disbelief as Robert began peeling off the layers of her heavy wool riding clothes, discarding them piece by piece on the floor. Once he removed her last undergarment, he lifted her up and set her into the warm bath water. Cora murmured thank you, but beyond that they were silent as she sat in the tub and he sat on a chair beside her. Cora tried to wash herself without moving her leg too much and she didn't dare to look up at her husband while she ran the bar of soap over her arms and legs. A few moments passed before Robert unceremoniously picked up a small jug beside the bath, filled it with water, and poured it gently over her head.

"What are you doing?" Cora asked, incredulously.

"You have dirt in your hair," he replied quietly. He said nothing more but continued to wash her hair as she sat there with her arms wrapped around her chest. Though he was her husband, this was perhaps the first time he had seen her so…exposed. Even on their honeymoon, there had been night-clothes, blankets, and a very dark room to keep them from actually having to see one another. For the first time, there were no barriers between them. Cora moved to reach the shampoo beside the tub but whimpered with pain as she inadvertently moved her leg. Robert put his hand on her shoulder to still her movement and reached for the small jar himself. She remained silent as he rubbed the rose scented shampoo over her head and through her tangled hair. He poured the warm water over her head once more before setting the small container down on the floor alongside the tub.

Finally, Robert cleared his throat and Cora looked up. "I need to go get you a towel. Don't move," he instructed.

Cora chuckled and raised her eyebrows. "I don't think I can move," she murmured as she pulled the stopper from the drain.

Robert returned with a large white towel and wrapped it around her before lifting her once more. He paused for a brief second and looked down at her, smiling faintly, before carrying her back to her bed. Miss March had left her nightdress out and so she was able to slip it on without any help. After bringing the wet towel to the washroom, Robert returned and sat beside Cora. She turned to thank him but before she could speak, he slipped his hand into hers and looked up at her.

"I'm so sorry." He said, barely above a whisper. Cora frowned, but not because she was angry; Robert looked as though he was about to cry—an emotional response she did not think he was capable of—and he sounded like a little boy who had done something very wrong.

Cora looked down at their entwined hands and at the glint of her shiny new wedding ring. Their hands fit rather well together.

"Robert, I didn't mean to—"

"I know. I pushed you too hard," he interrupted. "And I also know that you are unhappy and I believe that is my fault. I admit that I have never been very good when it comes to change and I don't think I was prepared for marriage. But that is not your fault, and I promise I will try not to be quite so horribly bad at the whole thing." He laughed nervously, finally looking her in the eyes.

Cora smiled gently and squeezed his hand. "I don't think I was ready either."

Their eyes locked in mutual recognition, as if they were both seeing the other clearly for the first time and Robert leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Perhaps we could take it one day at a time?" He asked, eyes full of hope.

Cora nodded empathetically and inched a bit closer, though she winced upon moving her leg. "I'd like that very much," she replied.

He smiled, again looking quite like a little boy, and wrapped his arms around her waist, for once feeling like it was a natural thing to do.

"I wonder—well, what I mean to say is, I thought I should perhaps spend the night in here? That is, incase you were to need anything during the night." He reddened slightly as he made his request and looked sheepishly at Cora, who grinned widely in response.

"I'd like that very much, too." She whispered. Almost reflexively, her hand found its way up to Robert's cheek and she leaned in close, pressing her lips against his. She let them linger for longer than she ever had, and felt a secret thrill when he leaned into her, his hands finding their way up her back. After a moment they pulled away; both slightly embarrassed but both incredibly thrilled. Robert settled into the bed and Cora followed, resting her head against his chest before he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

Cora allowed her fingers to trail over Robert's chest as they spoke quietly over the crackling fire in the corner of the room. For the first time, she felt completely safe and completely comfortable in her husband's arms. When he murmured "goodnight, my darling," against her forehead, she thought her heart might burst. They fell asleep soon after and for the first time since the wedding they both slept peacefully. They had perhaps failed the test out on the lawn earlier that day, but had somehow still managed to take a small leap forward. It was not huge, nor would it rewrite the missteps in their past or those still to come, but it was a leap, nevertheless, and for now, it was enough.