Nobody said anything for several seconds. They all appeared to be grappling for a reasonable excuse that could explain the situation away as proper and decent.

But as he watched his sister's expression change several times, her focus flickering between the pair of them, Harold wasn't sure such a scenario existed.

It was Rosamund who broke the tense silence with her eloquent greeting full of nonchalance.

"Cora!" She exclaimed with arms outstretched, dropping several steps down to meet her sister-in-law on the sidewalk. They embraced rather stiffly, kissing one another rather ceremoniously on either before Rosamund exclaimed with a nervous enthusiasm. "What a nice surprise to see you here this morning!"

Cora closed her gaping mouth now and cleared her throat with some difficulty. "Yes," She replied with strained pleasantry edged in her tone, "it certainly is…a surprise." Despite the slight curve of her smile, Harold found the icy radiance from her pale blue eyes a bit disconcerting.

However, Rosamund seemed uneffaced by this, gesturing towards the front door behind her, as if Harold wasn't standing rather awkwardly on the stoop. "Would you care to join us for some breakfast this morning? I believe Edith's still in the dining room."

"No," Cora's gaze reaffixed on her sister-in-law, and she smiled as appreciatively as she could muster. "Thank you," She inclined her head, adjusting the strap of her handbag.

"Surely there was something you needed," Rosamund went on conversationally.

"I was...on my way to the dressmaker's and I thought… I'd pop in to see if you'd like to…or Edith would like to…come along. But now, I see that you're busy so I think I'll just be on my way now." Her frosty gaze shifted to find his again, and he suddenly felt like a child who'd been caught in a scurrilous act.

"Oh, but we really aren't…" Rosamund began.

It was clear Cora had heard and seen enough. Her interjection of, I'll see the both of you at dinner,was spoken with such a severe finality that Harold felt a wave of shock wash over him. He noticed Rosamund place a tightly gripped hand along the railing, as if she, too, felt a similar tremor from Cora's sharpened words just before she swiftly turned and continued down the street.

"Cora," He suddenly called out to her, cautiously descending the stairs.

She turned from his intonation and pivoted in a circle. Inclining her head, she reprimanded sternly, "Really Harold, you should be getting back. Mother's all in a tizzy that you'll miss your outing with Miss. Allsop this afternoon."

He frowned, his brow furrowing in response to her steely demeanor, "I already told you I'm not…"

Setting her jaw, she insisted plainly, "I must be off."

He let out an annoyed sigh, "Cora!"

Glancing back to Rosamund, he witnessed the hurt spreading across her visage from Cora's remark, and it instantly propelled him towards her.

"Rosamund," He shook his head, his eyes widening in fear that she had taken his sister's words to heart, "I'm not…"

Jerking her hand out of his reach, she interjected stiffly, a noticeable tremor coursing through her words. "You should be off too, Mr. Levinson. I'm sure you don't wish to keep Miss. Allsop waiting."

Her eyes burned two holes through his chest, and there was nothing he could do to stop her from picking up her skirts and rushing up the stairs with her face bent low.

"Rosamund I…" He followed after her, seizing hold of her forearm and rooting her in place on the top stoop.

"Don't," She snarled at him, her green eyes pooling with a fierce sadness that prompted a stitch to erupt in his chest. Shaking her head slowly, she remarked through clenched teeth, her nostrils flaring. "Spare me your excuses and charmed remarks. I am through listening to them."

"But it wasn't my idea…" Harold urged desperately, his fingers tightening around her sleeve. "My Mother and Cora…"

"I'll ask you to kindly let go of me, Mr. Levinson," She persisted, her guarded expression faltering as her bottom lip trembled. "And leave."

"Rosamund," His tone took on a softer edge, and he tried to reach his other hand upward to brush away the moisture that was slowly streaming down her cheeks.

"Please," She winced, lowering her eyes dripping with angry tears. Blinking hard several times, she looked to him, the fire in her eyes nearly extinguished by the clouds that gathered, "You promised you would go whenever I asked you to."

Letting out a defeated breath, Harold closed his eyes and bobbed his head reluctantly. He felt her smooth arm slip through his fingers before the final slam of the door made a shiver jump through him.

He hated himself for ever saying the words, for leaving himself no choice but to keep his promise to her. But the fire burning brightly in the pit of his stomach didn't burn just out of his own frustration. An infuriation that he wished to lay on Cora for disrupting the carefully laid out order of his arrangement with Rosamund.

And before he could stop himself, Harold hurried down the stairs, rushing off in the direction that his sister took his hasty leave.

It was still early enough in the morning that the sidewalks weren't overcrowded with people, and he could spot her several yards ahead, her gait determined.

"Cora! Cora, wait!" He practically jogged after her retreating form, finally catching her by the arm, and pulling her towards the inside of the sidewalk.

She whirled about to face him, wrenching her arm free before straightening the front of her day coat. "Now is not the time or place for this, Harold," She growled at him, her eyes flickering over at the few people passing them by.

"No? But it's the time or place for you to stir up trouble between Rosamund and me?" He retorted hotly.

The color washed from her face, her eyes widening until he could see their whites glaring back at him. Taking in several rattling breaths, she remarked in a low, guttural tone. "So…it was Rosamund wasn't it?" She demanded coolly, "The Lady you spoke of, the one we both knew very well? You were referring to Rosamund, weren't you?"

"Very good deductive reasoning, sweet sister," Harold commended sarcastically, the words barely passing through his gritted teeth.

For an instant, her blind hot rage was replaced with an expression of surprise. But like a flickering bulb, it burned out, leaving him to stare into her dark expression.

"How could you?!" She lashed out, shoving him in the shoulders so hard, he took a step back. Leaning forward, she grumbled in a rasping tone that built into a shrill beating cadence, "After everything…everything Robert's done for you…everything I've done for you…this? This is how you repay us? By seducing his sister…"

"Now hang on just a minute," Harold interrupted sharply, taking a step forward until they were seeing eye to eye. Narrowing his gaze and frowning at her, Harold questioned, "Who said anything about seducing her?"

The disgust that hung onto that particular word left an unsettled feeling in his stomach.

"Oh don't try to pull the wool over my eyes!" Cora snapped, beating the center of her chest, she demanded, "I'm not a fool, Harold. I know how you are with these women."

"Lady Rosamund Painswick is not one of those women!" He snarled through gritted teeth, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"I couldn't agree more," Cora threw back her head, her tone borderline condescending at this rate, "which is why I find it absolutely disgraceful that you have turned her into one of them."

Her words cut deeper than he expected them to. She'd struck several nerves before, but none of them quite stung like this one. Had he done to Rosamund what he'd done to all the others? He'd been so careful not to, and yet…

Taking in several jagged breaths in an effort to calm his boiling anger, Harold bobbed his head, forcing out a harsh note of sardonic laughter. "I see," He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down between them.

"So what you're saying is," He glanced back up at his sister, still glaring back at him in keen disapproval, "that the only way a woman like Rosamund could be with someone like me is if I forced her to, right?"

He paused long enough to see Cora's face soften in objection.

But even with her mouth parted, ready to offer a meager defense, Harold couldn't stop himself. His words came out shaky and bitter, but with a certainty that even the Countess of Gratham couldn't deny.

"Forget that she came to me of her own accord. Never mind that she sought me out because she actually enjoyed my company. Don't mention that I gave her many chances to turn me away without question, and she chose the complete opposite. Oh no! No, the only way she'd ever look twice at a man like me is if I made her. Is that what you're saying?" His brow was knit together, mouth creased in a harsh scowl.

"Rosamund isn't like you!" Her tone lost its accusatory edge, and was replaced with a wounded desperation that pooled in her crystalline eyes, "She doesn't see such things as frivolous!"

"No, you're right;" Harold replied flatly, "She's not like me in that regard. And honestly, that's one of the things I like most about her. She's different."

His heart raced frantically with this admission, and everything suddenly felt warmer.

"Yes," Cora muttered quietly, her eyes still piercing through him. "And she deserves better than a week long affair with a man who intends to trapeze all across Europe to repeat the whole charade with countless other girls. Don't you see...?"

She moved to place a hand on his forearm, but he jerked away from her, his eyes flashing darkly. "I don't intend to anything of the sort!"

"No?" Her brow shot up in disbelief, "Isn't that what you did with Madeline Allsop?"

"Madeline Allsop has nothing to do with any of it!" Harold exclaimed fiercely, "I did nothing besides escort her around for an evening like you asked me to! There was nothing more between us! And there will be nothing more between us as far as I'm concerned!"

"And Rosamund?" Cora challenged, folding her arms in front of her, "What will be done between the two of you?"

"What I'm doing with Rosamund is between her and me," He snapped, pointing behind him, to himself, and then at Cora for emphasis, "It doesn't concern you!"

"Oh but it does concern me," Cora jutted her chin out, taking a determined step forward. Sizing him up, she challenged, "It concerns my family."

"Your husband's family," Harold retorted sharply.

"They're my family too," Cora insisted.

"And so am I!" He shot back quickly, "Or doesn't that mean as much to you since you donned that Countess Coronet and learned your place in this world?"

Her face contorted with a deep hurt, and she shook her head slowly, "How can you even say that?"

"Because it's the truth, and you know it," He remarked glumly, looking away from her. As much as he wanted to retaliate against her, he couldn't bear to see her pained expression. "You care more about what happens to them than you do what happens to Mother and me."

There they were; the words he felt ever since her departure all those years ago. All the bitterness he kept stored up every time happy news of a new baby or an anniversary was trumpeted throughout Levinson Manor in her honor. All she ever gushed about in her letters was her husband, the family they made together, and the hope that all was well with them. So little care or attention was ever bestowed upon him as far as she was concerned.

And he never felt the need to make it known until this very moment.

"Harold," Her voice strained, and she moved to place a conciliatory hand to his forearm.

"Look, I get it, sis. It makes sense," He intoned softly, looking up to find her dejected expression. "You've spent more of your life with them than with us. But…Rosamund's a grown woman. You don't need to protect her. She knows what she wants. And I'm sorry if it offends you to learn that what she wants is me. I have given her every opportunity to turn me away, and I can't help that she's chosen to have me instead of not to."

Lowering her gaze, Cora slowly shook her head, and murmured, "You're going to break her heart." Tilting her head to the side, she asked tentatively, "How is that right?"

"That's really not for you to say or judge, is it?" Harold arched an inquisitive brow.

Cora exhaled heavily, and relenting, let go of his arm and bowed her head in defeat.

"You should go," Harold remarked softly, jerking his gaze further down the street behind her. "Wouldn't want to miss that dress fitting now, would you?" His mouth twitched into a momentary smile before he turned on a heel, and stormed back to Grantham House.

So I was kind of always of the belief that Harold felt like he was always overshadowed by his older sister who was so clearly the 'golden child.' So hopefully I kind of perpetuated that accurately here. And the plan was kind of to always have the canon events in S4 unfold (i.e. the picnic w/Madeline Allsop & the moment the two of them shared at Rose's ball) w/the Haramond love affair just being my own fangirl mind running wild w/crack!shipping in this fic. Don't worry, more Haramond moments are to come (mostly angst, but truthfully I kind of like them angstier?). Anyway, if you have the time to share your thoughts, it's always appreciated! Thanks to everyone who showed interest in this fic thus far & indulging my deranged fangirl mind haha.