My Dearest Darling

Chapter 50

Cora pulled her dressing gown tighter around herself before tying the sash around her middle, her fingers slow and deliberate as they held onto the soft fabric. She was still quite anxiously waiting to hear what the doctor had to say now that he had finished his examination of her scarring wound. She desperately hoped that everything was fine but she was not sure, not with the pain she had felt the day before, and the silence looming over the room was not exactly easing her mind either. Very slowly and carefully, she sat down on the edge of her chaise longue, holding on to the armrest to hold her steady and stop her hand from shaking too obviously. All the while, her eyes never left the doctor as he busied himself with his back turned to her.

He was still rummaging through his black leather briefcase when the door to her bedroom opened again and Baxter hesitantly stepped into the room, holding on to the doorknob with her right hand.

"Yes, Baxter?" Cora asked quietly, her head turned as her voice sounded small in the comfort of her bedroom.

"I do not wish to disturb you, but I was just informed that His Lordship has arrived back home and I was wondering whether Your Ladyship might like to have him join you here while the doctor is still present?"

She should ask Baxter to tell him to come up, he needed to know just like she did. Robert would be angry enough with her when he found out she had not talked to him about the pain she had been experiencing beforehand. Cora had hoped that Doctor Clarkson would be gone by the time he returned from London with Mary so that she could wait for the right moment to tell her husband about whatever it was that the doctor was about to relay to her. But all her hopes had been for nought, as her lady's maid had just informed her.

"Yes, please send him up here, Baxter," Cora then replied, thinking it would be better if he found out straight away.

Her lady's maid, however, did not even get to respond, let alone turn around and leave the room to do as she was asked. In a whirlwind of his long overcoat flying about, Robert already came barging in rather unceremoniously. The uncharacteristically loud and inelegant entrance caused even the doctor to stop his rummaging and turn momentarily in surprise.

Out of breath, he stood there, still dressed in his thick winter coat and his hat held in his gloved hand. Cora instinctively knew he had run up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, just the way he had always done — but he was not as young as he used to be. He simply stood there and looked at her, winded and panicked.

"What is going on?" he breathed, his eyes fixed on his wife reclining on her chaise, his expression one full of concern. Finally finding the ability to use his legs again, he walked over to Cora and, plucking his gloves from his hands, took the hand she had reached out for him.

"Ah, Lord Grantham, you are just on time. I have finished my examination just now," the doctor greeted while Robert was still catching his breath, entirely too focused on his wife to even acknowledge the doctor.

"Cora, why is he here? What happened?" he asked. His worried eyes were running over her body, checking for any signs of sickness she had not displayed before he had left for London the day before. Her skin was still pallid, almost sallow, her cheeks still sunken, the dark circles under her eyes still the same. She did not look well but seemed no worse off than before for all he could tell.

"Steady on now, Robert. It is nothing. I just asked Doctor Clarkson to come here and look at the scar. I have been experiencing occasional pains there and wanted to have it looked at just to make sure. There is nothing to worry about."

Robert, who had listened to her almost too intently, then turned to finally address the elderly doctor who just set down a small jar of something on the table next to his bag.