It was late. Very late, in fact. A quick glance at the giant grandfather clock nearby told him that it was almost 1 in the morning.
However, sleep seemed to be evading him that night, despite his feeling of fatigue after being horribly seasick for most of the day yet again. Robert had never done too well on boats and ships, and this time was no different. In fact, this must have been one of the worst journeys he ever experienced. And then there had also been that conversation with Cora in the afternoon that did not bring him any closure as he had hoped.
Bates and Baxter had left them to their own devices over three, almost four hours ago, and Cora was fast asleep lying next to him in bed. She seemed so peaceful in her slumber as he watched her, with no worry lines on her almost angelic face.
Everything was quiet around them, even the sea had calmed down a while ago. People seemed to have all gone to sleep on the grand ship, there was almost nothing to be heard from anywhere. And yet, he couldn't seem to be able to stop his tossing and turning, never finding a position comfortable enough to fall asleep in. Robert's mind just would not shut off, it kept screaming something at him at full volume. What it was trying to tell him, he did not know.
Ultimately, after another ten minutes had passed without him finding sleep, he decided to just get up out of bed. It would not do to wake Cora with his incessant moving. Robert wrapped his florally embroidered dressing gown tightly around himself and put on his house slippers to ward off the general coldness of the suite. He certainly missed the fireplace that was always lit in their bedroom at home and the warmth and comfort it always brought.
Walking quietly, he went to the sitting area of their suite and came to a halt near one of the round windows. Looking around in the very dimly lit room, he decided to settle into one of the armchairs that was standing close by.
Quickly, though, he found that staring into the darkness that lay outside within the deep ocean, the only light coming from the moon and stars above, was not exactly helping matters. The tranquillity of the scene before his eyes only seemed to make his mind turn faster, the thoughts running even more rampant than before when he was still in bed. The contrast between the tranquillity and serenity outside and his inner turmoil was quite stark, he had to admit.
Sighing quite loudly in desperation, Robert heaved himself out of the plush chair near the window and left their suite, not caring about his rather scandalous state of undress — his mother for sure would have thrown a tantrum had she ever seen him leave any room like this at the Abbey, let alone on a ship.
He knew there was only one thing he could possibly do after his mind went back to a conversation he had had before they had embarked on their journey to America.
++++++++++++++
It took a while, but eventually, the door opened. The person living inside squinted out through the only slightly opened door to see who was standing out in the barely lit hallway, knocking at this ungodly hour. When the sleepy man recognized the slightly hunched figure clad in only his pyjamas and a dressing gown, he stood straighter that instant, becoming more alert.
"Milord! Is there something wrong?" Bates asked hurriedly, clearly shocked at the unexpected sight before him. This was an unprecedented situation for both of them, and the valet did not really know how to handle it. Apparently, his employer had walked the entire length of the ship at nighttime to come and find him, dressed in nothing more than his nightclothes and dressing gown. This could only mean there was something terribly wrong, maybe there was a problem with the ship?
"No, John. That is — I don't quite know in all honesty."
Hearing the uncertainty and trepidation in his voice, Bates opened the door wider to let him in — the use of his first name going unnoticed in his confused and sleepy state.
"Come on in, first," he said, letting Robert step into the much quainter room compared to the suite Cora and he were staying in. "Please, sit down."
Robert looked around in the scarcely-lit room and decided to sit on the green settee pushed to the wall opposite the narrow bed Bates had seemingly already been asleep in, judging by the dishevelled state of it and its occupant.
"What can I do for you, my Lord?" Bates asked, sitting down on the edge of his unmade bed. He had quickly thrown on a dark dressing gown over his deep blue pyjamas before opening the door, his hair quite a bit more messy than Robert was used to. But then again, he had woken the man up in the middle of the night after all, so this was to be expected.
"None of that, please. I am not here as your employer, not tonight. No, I came here because I had hoped to talk to you as one of my oldest friends — because that is what I think you are to me, after everything we have been through together and the many years we have known each other."
Bates replied with a small smile: "Certainly."
It was true, they had gone through an awful lot together, considering the Boer War they had both served in together and everything that had followed since. Bates had dressed the man sitting opposite him for almost twenty years and knew more about him than maybe even his wife did sometimes. John Bates had been through it all with the Earl, the good and the bad, for both of them.
"Do you remember the evening before we left England, the conversation we had in the dressing room that night?"
After a very short pause, Bates replied with an uncertain voice and furrowed brows: "I think I do. You asked after Anna's reaction to your request if I recall the same conversation you are referring to, mi-"
He stopped himself before finishing the sentence with his usual address directed at Robert. The Earl, however, had made it clear enough for him that all of that should not matter that night, as it would only further complicate things.
Robert nodded, grateful that his oldest friend was complying with his request to leave all formalities be for the time being.
"Yes, that is the one I mean. Right as I was about to leave the room, you asked me something, to which I struggled to come up with an adequate answer — I am not sure whether you noticed that."
"I did, but it was not my place to question you. You said that eventually, you would tell us if anything was cause for concern, and I believed that, so I did not ask any further."
"Quite right, and I think the time has come that you should know. The reason for this trip was initially not at all a joyful one, despite the improvised wedding of my brother-in-law. I am sure you all gathered that Doctor Clarkson has been a rather frequent visitor at the Abbey within the last few weeks, not without reason. When we returned from France, he ran some tests on Cora, because she had been feeling unwell for weeks, if not months, before that. I do not know how much Miss Baxter has told all of you downstairs?"
Robert, who had been staring at his hands the entire time while talking, then looked up at Bates, not sure whether he wanted to know the answer. He had suddenly become quite self-conscious about their specific way of living. Their servants picked up an awful lot of information about their private lives, and the entire family trusted the staff to keep their stories to themselves. Nevertheless, he knew that there was always bound to be some talk downstairs, and it only then occurred to him that things like these were more than likely discussed in the servant's hall at one point or the other. He did not like thinking that his or his wife's health, their marital problems over the years or different instances when the estate had been endangered had been discussed over tea downstairs. To his relief, though, Bates quickly took him out of that uncertain misery.
"She hasn't said anything other than that her Ladyship occasionally asked for some powder to help with some heartburn. I suspected that she knew more about whatever it was than the rest of us, but she never said a word as to why, not even when someone asked."
After a short pause, John Bates felt the need to clarify: "Miss Baxter and I are aware that you trust us with the things you say to the both of us in confidence, and as such they stay strictly between you and us. Neither Miss Baxter nor I have ever repeated information you have shared with us outside the dressing room or her Ladyship's bedroom without your knowledge, we would never betray your trust like that. Not even to our partners."
The Earl let out a breath he had not been aware he had been holding in up until that point. It came as no small relief to hear that their secrets truly were safe with them. Although Robert was not sure how much of that could be said about Miss O'Brien, he had never liked that woman and her departure a few years back in the middle of the night had only confirmed that he had been right in his assessment of her rather questionable character. There was always that ominous air surrounding that woman.
Nodding at Bates with a small smile on his lips that did not quite reach his eyes, he continued: "Those tests the doctor ran confirmed that Cora has cancer. This hurried trip to America was planned so that she could say her goodbyes to her family, to visit her father's grave and her childhood home for one last time before she becomes too sick to embark on this long journey. It was hard enough on her as it is."
The two men fell into silence for a while. Robert remained silent because he did not know what else there was to say, and Bates because he was simply too shocked by the news. He had been aware that something was amiss, the frequent visits of Doctor Clarkson had not gone unnoticed downstairs, after all, but the full gravity of the situation had been unknown to him up until that point.
"And is there no treatment at all?" Bates inquired hesitantly.
The only other instances John Bates had ever seen Robert in this sort of state had been the day Cora had had her miscarriage when he found Robert crying in the dressing room, and then again when he dressed him the morning after the dowager had died. Otherwise, Robert had only ever shown happiness or the occasional anger in an open manner. The aristocrat had kept his negative emotions all to himself and presumably only shared his deepest troubles with his wife, if at all. Not even Lady Sybil's sudden death had made him so openly emotional, but maybe that was also due to the shock.
Still, the Earl's eyes welled up with tears when he heard Bates' question. It was obvious that his valet had found the crux of the matter, and had uncovered the reason why Robert had sought him out at that time of night.
"That is just the thing. There is treatment according to Doctor Clarkson and his colleagues. And yet, she does not want to follow the treatment several doctors have recommended because she is scared. But so am I, although for different reasons. She is scared of the treatment itself, is scared that it might not help and only give us all false hope, while I am scared of having to go through life without her, having to raise our children and grandchildren on my own without her gentle guidance. I know that it sounds stupid, for lack of a better word. Our daughters are grown women, after all, but they still need us, they need both of us. I am scared of the man I might become once she is gone. She makes me a better man, keeps me from harm more than I care to admit. Cora is the light of my entire existence, my only real responsibility in this life. She is everything to me. Without her, I am a nobody — without her, I am nothing."
The tears that had been threatening to fall were threatening no more — they rolled freely down his cheeks. Hastily, Robert tried to wipe them away. It all looked quite as if he were a young boy who had just been scolded and told to stop his whining and deal with this like a man. And maybe that was a thought that had crossed his mind then.
"There is no need to be ashamed of your tears, truly. Better to let it out than keep it all inside."
John Bates knew that it was better to feel whatever big emotions were hidden under the surface and let them out in a controlled environment, rather than stuff everything back in. Things that were left to simmer for too long only caused more trouble in the long run, when they suddenly and unexpectedly exploded at the worst possible moments. He was not sure how best to deal with this situation, but he was relieved that Robert had entrusted someone — him of all people — with his innermost thoughts and feelings. It only went to show that Robert Crawley truly considered him a close friend — a sentiment that John certainly shared. It was highly unusual for people in their positions, but he was glad for it.
They were more alike than one might think, both were proud men — proud men very much stuck in their own ways. Neither would want others to know about the things they were going through, both were the type of men who would rather keep to themselves and suffer in silence. But maybe that was why Robert had come to him because he had known he would understand and not question him one bit.
Hesitantly, John stood up and crossed the small distance separating him and his friend, taking a seat next to him on the settee. He handed him a fresh handkerchief before putting a reassuring hand on his broad shoulder. John was not sure what to say. What does one say in a situation like this?
"Thank you, John. For everything," the Earl said suddenly as he neatly folded the handkerchief again and made to stand.
"You are not nothing without her, you're not a nobody. You are the Earl of Grantham. You're one of the most generous landowners in the country, and the best employer the staff at the abbey and the farmers on the estate could ever wish for. Losing her Ladyship will not make you a lesser man. The fact that you are doing everything you can for her given these circumstances is quite a testimonial to the man you are and it testifies to the special and quite rare bond the two of you share. It shows the compassionate side in you that is so rarely found in men of your station. And that side will never fully go away, because she will never be completely gone from your life. She might not be with you in person in a year's time, but her children and grandchildren will be. The rooms you live in will still be the same ones she once shared with you and they will remind you of the memories you made with her. It will feel awful at first, seeing those remains of a life shared, but you will be grateful for it all, for every laugh shared and every tear shed. She will forever live on in the people who knew her, those whose lives she touched. She will live on in your daughters and their children. She will live on in you and your memory."