Thank YOU FOr 8K READS!!! You are so wonderful! Hugs to you all!

*sorry for the delay*

Mary's bedroom, Downton Abbey

Mary lay in the bed and all was quiet. What was she thinking? "What was Mama thinking?!" She said aloud. Thomas kept his mouth shut, fighting the urge to point out that Lady Grantham had probably been thinking a lot more than Mary was right now, lying in bed next to a homosexual butler. "A married Countess, with an art historian! The ludicrisy of it all. She should be ashamed of herself." Thomas just stayed silent. "What do you think, sweetheart?" She had come to call him that recently. It disturbed him slightly, but at least it proved her seriousness. Or her insanity, depending on your opinion. Thomas was more on the 'insanity' side of things, but he wasn't complaining. It was these 'meets' that got him promoted to butler when Mr Carson left, and he got out of the tedious work too.

"I think she probably had reasons at first, but now she sees her mistakes." Thomas was the only servant privy to this information. Mary had overheard a few conversations and some heated words between Lady Cora and Mrs Levinson, which brought her to the conclusion that her mother was a slut. Thomas did not particularly share Mary's opinion, but could not help finding Cora's disloyalty to Lord Grantham shocking and out of character. Like mother, like daughter it seemed. At least Matthew was dead.

Mary sighed softly, laying her head on his bare chest. She closed her eyes and for a fleeting second he saw Jimmy in her place. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "But an art historian! I mean really! What on earth would she know about art!" Thomas couldn't help smiling. Mary sat up slightly, "what are you grinning at?" She smiled, moving closer to his face. She kissed him slowly, drawing out the moment. "Not at me surely!" She giggled and snuggled into his side. He was used to this by now and put his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. He kissed her head and lay back, closing his eyes. Kemal Pamuk appeared in his mind. Thomas opened his eyes immediately. Kemal, the handsome Turk, had died in this bed, most likely where he was lying right now.

A coldness engulfed Thomas. It may have been more than ten years ago, but it still bothered him. It bothered him a lot.

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The Carsons's Cottage

Elsie Carson was half way through her knitting. Her husband sat across from her, reading a book of Wordsworth Poetry. Sometimes he would stop, and read out a verse or two, maybe something that reminded him of her or something particularly beautiful. Retirement was sweet and they both enjoyed it. At first they had been worried about how to spend their time-as they were so used to busy days at the Abbey-, but they had adopted many hobbies already.

Elsie had taken up knitting and was currently working on a scarf for her beloved husband. Charlie was catching up on his reading and had also volunteered to coach the villiage cricket team. His loyalty did still lie with the Abbey team, however. Elsie had received a cook book from Mrs Patmore upon her leaving, and used every opportunity to try the various recipes. It had been a long time since she had cooked a full meal and it was nice to go to the shop and pick ingredients, something that she never did at the Abbey. Charlie was actually quite the gardener, as Elsie discovered. Now that they were married and no longer constantly surrounded by other servants, Charlie ventured to sing for his wife. Not much, maybe when he was in the garden or she was cooking.

Charlie had been quite surprised one day, when Elsie joined in with him and they sung together. She had a beautiful voice that complemented Charlie's well. When he had asked Elsie why she had never thought about show business, she had simply laughed and said, "My dear Cheerful Charlie, I was never as wild as you are!" And when she said that, Charlie had chuckled and kissed her and planted another rose.

"I love you." She said suddenly, not looking up from her knitting. "I love you too." Charlie grinned, continuing to read the poems. "How much?" Elsie asked mischievously, finishing her row. "More than this chap loves Daffodils!" He laughed. And they laughed together, in their cottage. Yes, retirement was sweet, and infact, life itself was sweet when you were with the person you loved and who loved you.

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Downstairs, Downton Abbey

Mrs Goswami sighed as she sat down beside her husband. "I am happy for her. I am, but I can't help feeling as though there is something strange about the whole thing. Why keep it a secret for so long? Why was she still so sad?" Mahesh kissed her hand. She smiled but continued to speak. "She asked me to pack a case. Whatever for, I do not know. Then she stared at it for a few minutes and dismissed me. Do you think that she could be going mad? You hear of it happening don't you, Countess's going mad and having to be locked up in attics and that.." Mahesh rose his eyebrows, "I think that's Jane Eyre, sweetheart. Don't worry about Lady Cora, I'm sure that she's not going mad."

Suddenly Mr Moseley rushed downstairs. "Did you see her! Running like a mad woman in the rain with a case! I never saw the like before in my life! Not even wearing a coat. It was like a film or something, nothing you'd ever expect to see at Downton I'll tell you that much" Daisy looked at him in wonder, "Who?" Mr Moseley was clearly still in shock, "Her Ladyship! You should have seen the speed that she ran, like a mad woman I say, absolutely mad!" Sarah gave her husband a knowing look. "Are you sure now? You wait and see, she'll be locked in the attic before you know it". Despite the impropriety of it, Mahesh laughed.

"Now, now Mr Moseley, Her Ladyship isn't going mad. No need to jump to conclusions, she probably has a very plausible explanation for her speedy departure. Isn't that right, Miss Carter?" Mr Barrow said. Jacqueline resisted the urge to laugh along with Mahesh, and nodded seriously. "Of course. And even if she was going mad, it would be no cause for laughter Mr Goswami." Mahesh attempted to bite back his chuckles. "After all, Lady Grantham is pregnant, she is bound to be a bit out of sorts at times." Jacqueline continued before giving Mr Barrow a glance. He caught her eye and she gave him a Mona Lisa style smile.

Later, he came into her sitting room and closed the door carefully before sitting down. Then he laughed. "What has gotten in to you?" She giggled. "Being a butler means supporting the family no matter what, even if you agree that Her Ladyship is stark raving mad! I've been holding this laughter for more than half an hour. Only here can I release it." He chuckled in reply. She laughed with him. "You are an interesting man Mr Barrow." He looked up at her, "and you Miss Carter, are an interesting woman."

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The Dowager House

Violet had not been expecting the visit. Robert rarely tore himself away from the estate to spend time with his mother, unless she came to him. Clearly, there was something bothering him. "Mama." He said. "Robert." She replied softly. Robert sat down and fiddled with one of the buttons on his jacket- a childhood habit that the nanny had failed to break. "Is there something the matter?" She asked, perplexed by her son's peculiar behaviour. "Oh, amm.... you see," he began, already stumbling over his words. "It's umm, it's about Cora". Violet rose her eyebrows, "when is it not! Problems and more problems since the day you met her. Is it her mother? Is Mrs Levinson giving you trouble again, because if she is-" Robert quickly put a stop to his mother's rant.

"No, it's not her mother. Mrs Levinson is being perfectly civil." Violet frowned, "then what is it? " Robert sighed and shifted position. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again. "You see- what do you mean problems since the day I met her?" This time it was Violet who was uncomfortable. "Nothing, just say what you came to say." Robert frowned, "have we really had a lot of problems? Are we really so illsuited to each other?" Violet pursed her lips, "what is this about, Robert? Just spit it out!"

So, he did. "I think she wants to get a divorce " Then he proceeded to cry. He wept openly, if one could not cry in front of one's own mother, then who could one cry in front of? Even if your mother was Violet Crawley. "I just don't know what to do, Mama! My whole life seems to be falling apart around me, my children are pulling away, my way of life is becoming a feature of a history book, the love of my life hates me......maybe it would have been best if I had never married Cora! If I had let the estate fall and gotten a job while I was still young, if I hadn't given my heart so readily to a dark haired American the moment she gave me a second glance. If I hadn't been such a fool to presume that she loved me as I love her, and taken our marriage for granted."

Violet watched her son weep and was reminded of a time when she, like Cora, had found the idea of running away from Downton quite thrilling. When she had very nearly dropped everything for a certain Russian Prince. She had hoped that her husband had cried like Robert was now, at the prospect of her leaving, but she highly doubted it. The late Lord Grantham was not one of sentiment, and oft Violet doubted that he had any love in him, if it was even possible for him to love. Was Cora experiencing the same doubts? Was Robert making the same mistakes his father made all those years ago?

It was in their blood it seemed. Crawley men did not understand a woman's heart, even Matthew made his mistakes with Mary despite his distance from the family. When Robert had come to her to announce his marriage intentions, Violet's first reaction was anger and disappointment. Was her only son really about to throw his life away for an American? Why couldn't he choose a nice English girl, kind, well spoken, pretty and respectable, but still wealthy enough to save the estate? An English girl wouldn't have such a wild and disagreeable mother, and would understand social etiquette. An American, well, who knew what sort of madness would ensue with an American as Countess!

But, Cora had done well. Violet had grown to like her, and later to think of her as a second daughter. Not that she would ever let her know that. The children had turned out well, despite the lack of an heir. Mary was, well she was currently going through some troubles, but she had grown into a respectable woman. Edith was unmarried of course, but she was also a journalist, and editor now, she was a woman of the modern world. Okay, she had a child out of wedlock, but Violet was still proud of her Strawberry blonde fairy. Sybil. Darling Sybil, the sweet spirit that would never reach her twenty-fifth birthday. The dark haired angel that fought for the rights of women and a fair society. Although she may not have triumphed entirely in that battle, she left the earth with the gift of a little baby, now an almost five year old Lady named Sybbie.

Robert marrying Cora had not been a mistake. Violet had not advised it at first, but now she could not imagine it any other way. They did love each other, that Violet was confident of, but she just needed to find a way to remind Cora of it. Remind her that Cora Crawley belonged at Downton Abbey in the arms of her husband, and overlooking the events as a Countess should. "Robert, you need to show her how you feel, how much she means to you. And don't just tell her, show her. She needs to be shown, she needs to see that you love her." Robert sniffed, "but how Mama? How can I show my love?" Violet looked at her son carefully, "in every way you can. Spare nothing, do everything you can to keep her, to prove your love. Make her fall in love with you again, fall in love with her again."

Robert wiped his eyes and looked up, "Do you think it will work?" Violet smiled sadly, "there is only one way to find out." Robert sighed softly, "thank you, Mama. Thank you very much." He smiled and glanced out the window. " Goodness, the rain is quite heavy isn't it." He commented, standing up to get a better view. Violet nodded, "I should hate to be out in it without an umbrella." Robert continued to look outside, and suddenly frowned. "Then you should hate to be that person. Good God! It's Cora!"

And without another word, he was out the door.

The Dowager Countess of Grantham gazed out of her window. She watched her son and daughter in law embrace, and smiled to herself. Maybe their marriage wasn't as broken as Robert had thought. She knew, that no matter what, Robert and Cora would find a way through - together.

*whispers* I am a Cobert Shipper to the core.

Well, this chapter is certainly longer than the last!

I hope that you are enjoying the fic so far, and yes, the rain hugging thing is a bit cheesy, but who doesn't like a bit of cheese every now and again?

Please let me know what you think and remember to vote!

OH! And very important :

If you haven't read 'The Bates's Irish Adventure' you need to before the next chapter of this fic is posted because otherwise stuff will not make sense. Even for those of you who are not massive Banna shippers (or don't really ship them at all) the stuff that happens in that mini fic is very important to the plot of this Fanfiction. Once you've read it, you'll get what I mean.

THANK YOU ALL FOR READING! CYBER HUGS TO YOU ALL (not necessarily in the rain)

SaskatFishcakes. Xxx