They had not spoken much on the way home from the doctor's office. There simply were too many uncertainties left to ponder, even after their visit and Doctor Wallsom's rather encouraging words.
There are still no promises to be made.
Hearing Doctor Clarkson say those eight rather simple words had been like a gut punch for Robert, just as much as him confirming his wife's diagnosis had been; especially because this time, they so strongly contrasted everything the other doctor said. Cora's decision to go and see the specialist after all had left Robert feeling so ecstatic and relieved that he had not even considered that the treatment might still prove ineffective, or that it might, in fact, be too late to try now. Those possibilities had been at the far back of his mind, and he did not allow them to reach the surface, even though he and Cora had spoken about it all on the ship taking them back to England.
There are still no promises to be made.
Somehow, that one sentence kept repeating in his head, like a broken record on an old gramophone, over and over again; at least until his wife's gentle words took him out of his musings.
"I'll just go upstairs and take off my hat."
He quickly turned to her, shaking his head ever so slightly, as if he was trying to rid himself of the gloomy thoughts that seemed to be haunting and taunting him.
"Oh, alright. I will wait in the dining room, Mead is surely about to announce luncheon any minute now," he replied, watching her ascend the stone steps, one after the other. Her pace was slow and she clung to the bannister; one could easily see that just reaching the first floor cost her greatly. Only when she had reached the top and looked back at him, a nervous smile gracing her strained face, did he turn away and go to the dining room as he had said.
++++++++++++++++++
Robert stood near the window looking out over the usually busy square in a city that seemed trapped in a winter trance. The ongoing heavy snowfall made it incredibly hard to even make out the motorcars driving agonizingly slowly down below and it did not surprise him in the least that there were little to no people crowding the sidewalks on this cold and rather unpleasant day. Absent-mindedly, he rubbed his hands together to hopefully warm them at least slightly. His fingers still felt frozen in place, even though they had been back inside the warm house for at least ten minutes and he had been wearing gloves the entire time they had been outside. He could almost swear that he felt his thick, wet winter coat still weighing heavily on his shoulders, but that could not be. A footman had helped him out of it and taken that away immediately to dry a while ago when they entered the house.
"The weather is truly awful out, isn't it?" asked Rosamund rather cheerfully when she and Cora entered the small dining room together a few minutes later.
"England hasn't seen a winter quite like this in years, maybe decades, even!" exclaimed Cora acquiescently while claiming her usual seat at the table. Her concerned gaze, however, followed that of her husband through the iced windowpane.
"Luncheon is served now, milady."
"Thank you, Mead. I think we will help ourselves today," replied Rosamund with a gentle smile directed at her longest-serving staff member. He had been with her for so long — similar to Carson staying loyal to Downton for so many years — Mead stayed on with her when she moved into this house in Belgrave Square, unlike the majority of her former staff.
The elderly Butler curtly nodded and then quickly left the room, or rather what could be considered quickly for his advanced age.
Robert turned around then to face the two women, abandoning the restricted view out the window in favour of taking his seat at the table next to his wife. He quickly folded his napkin over his lap with one swift motion, the way he always did.
They all ate their luncheon in relative silence. Robert and Cora had enough left to think about from their morning appointment in Harley Street, and Rosamund saw no need to disrupt their thoughts. She knew that they would tell her all about the appointment when the time was right. Her brother had never been much good at keeping things to himself, least of all concerning important matters such as this one.
After a while, though, there was a rather pressing matter on Robert's mind, and he was dying to voice it. But he waited and only spoke once everyone's plates were empty and he was free to turn to face his wife more fully without it being considered impolite or a sign of bad manners. This was no polite conversation he wanted to make, that would have been quite acceptable throughout their meal. Robert knew that neither Cora nor his sister would have minded had he turned and spoken up earlier, but he liked to keep with tradition as much as he could. Buried deep down, there was a traditionalist who often lost the fight to the reluctant modern in him, but every once in a while it got the upper hand. Or maybe it was just memories of his mother reprimanding him as a young boy one too many times about the importance of proper table manners.
"Cora, I know this is going to ask a lot from you, but I think we should try to get back to Downton today, rather than tomorrow morning. I did promise you another day to relax and recover before we board the train home, but I am worried that the trains might not be able to run properly due to covered tracks if the snowfall doesn't cease soon."
"Actually, I was about to ask that same favour of you. Doctor Clarkson had enough trouble getting here this morning by the sounds of it. Not that I would not mind staying here with Rosamund for a while longer, but I should like to see the rest of our family again, as well. We have been away for a month and I rather miss the grandchildren," she said in reply as she set her cutlery down. "And I can relax as much as I want once we are back at Downton."
Relieved at her reaction, Robert nodded.
He could already only too vividly envision what their subsequent return home would look like. George and Sybbie would likely come running as soon as they heard the news of their return, with Marigold following at a safer distance. They would likely welcome Cora and him with excited shouts of "Granny!" and "Donk!". Robert still had no inkling as to why he had been deemed unworthy of the title of grandpapa, or even just grandpa for short, but he had decided a while ago to take the little he had been offered. Even if that meant being referred to as Donk in his own ancestral home. Robert would never admit it, but he had grown quite fond of the pet name Sybbie gave him years ago, no matter how undignified it was for an Earl to be referred to as Donk by his granddaughter.
He missed his entire family, he had told Cora as much when she was wondering about how they were getting on at home. Though, he supposed, maybe he missed his daughters and their partners not quite as much as those little troublemakers.
When she saw his pensive smile, Cora turned her head to face his sister, adding: "Rosamund, you are more than welcome to join us for the train ride and stay for Christmas, or however long you'd like. That way you wouldn't have to travel up north alone in a few days if trains even manage to run between Downton and London by then."
"Do you really mean that?" Rosamund asked, seemingly caught off-guard. Rosamund's surprised tone in reply to his wife's offer seemed to snap Robert back into reality.
"Of course, we do. As we said earlier, you are always welcome at Downton. It is your home just as much as it is ours, and you were coming to join us for Christmas either way, were you not?" asked Robert, tilting his head enquiringly at his sister.
Rosamund only smiled gratefully in return, and Robert could have sworn to see her hand shaking slightly when she took another sip of wine from the crystal glass in front of her.
"That's settled then. Could I trouble Mead to telephone the station and acquire our tickets for the next possible train up to Downton?"
"Of course, I shall ring for him and ask him to have my lady's maid pack my bags as well."
The lady of the house rose from her seat to ring for the butler, the motions looking stiffer than just a few years before. They were all getting older, it could not be denied by any of them.
++++++++++++++++++
"Do you think the train made it out of London safely, given all the snow?"
Tom turned around, lowering the glass of whiskey in his hands slightly while turning to look at his sister-in-law. They were the first two to come down for dinner, which was not unusual at all. It had almost become some sort of routine for them, Mary joining him in the drawing room to talk long before the others managed to get dressed for their family dinners at Downton.
"I think they will be here soon, or at least I hope that. Robert would not have called to tell us they were arriving today if he was not positive they would be able to make it in these conditions. Edith will return with them shortly, you will see."
Mary was about to open her mouth to reply when they heard thundering footsteps and squeals of delight coming from the great hall. That sort of commotion could only come from one source, or rather three little ones — the children were still up and clearly very excited about something important. Or at least Mary supposed it must have been — their nanny would have never let them come down if the reason for this ruckus was unimportant.
Raising an eyebrow each, Tom set his tumbler down on the mantelpiece and followed Mary out into the hall again to see what it was all about.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Donk!"
"Granny!"
Robert had been right, it was just like he had imagined. The scene before him brought a wide smile to his ageing face. Their grandchildren — at least their eldest three — were coming running down the stairs and through the entrance hall toward them. He had barely managed to hand his hat to Carson when George had already launched himself at him, throwing his arms around his neck, likely expecting to be propelled into the air. Robert barely managed to stay afoot as his grandson knocked into him at full speed, but he did, and he relished in the affectionate nature of this moment - his grandson hugging him so tightly was something he could never take for granted.
"I am so happy you are back home, Donk! Sybbie, Margo and I have a new game we want to play with you!" George said excitedly when his grandfather had set him down again.
"Is that so?" Robert replied, looking from George to his cousin behind him and then back at his grandson with a satisfied expression on his face.
Sybbie was not quite as rapturous in her greeting of Cora as George had been with him, keeping in mind that they had told the eldest grandchildren their granny was not feeling well. Marigold approached them once Robert had set George back down, coming in for a hug slowly. She had always been a rather timid and reserved child, but she was raised well despite her tumultuous first years and he liked how she managed to somehow calm down her cousins when she needed to. And she was a force to be reckoned with when provoked as he had found out one afternoon a few months ago.
All three of their grandchildren had grown a lot within the last month, or maybe that was just his warped perception of things yet again after not having seen them for so long. He had said something along those same lines to Cora once before, after they had returned from France in the summer, and she had told him that that was only his imagination running wild. They couldn't have grown that much in that short amount of time, even though he was certain that each of them was at least an inch taller than when they left.
Robert had a satisfied grin on his face when he watched Marigold, George and Sybbie swarm their grandmother, already asking countless questions about America while she was still busy untying her thick coat to hand it to the footman.
"You look quite pleased," said Tom in a playful tone, sticking out his hand to greet his father-in-law.
"Tom, how very good to see you, my dear chap," Robert replied, taking the offered hand and putting his left hand on Tom's shoulder in a rather affectionate gesture. He had grown incredibly fond of Tom, despite the very rocky road they had started on all those years ago when he had still been their chauffeur, wanting to run away with his youngest. After all these years and everything they had been through as a family, Robert almost felt like Tom was another son he never had, just like Matthew had been.
"Tom's right, you do appear in much higher spirits than when you left, Papa."
Just when Robert wanted to turn to his eldest daughter and greet her as well, they heard more voices ringing out from the gallery above.
It was Bertie who asked: "What is all this about?", which was quickly followed by Lucy's voice, saying: "The children are not in their room. Nanny said that they stormed out just now."
Bertie's voice came closer as he said: "I am sure there is ample reason for that, they have never done this sort of thing before, they would never disobey Nanny like that."
"And I think I know the reason," replied Lucy shortly after that, leaning over the bannister up on the gallery. She saw them all — the children huddling around Cora dressed in only their pyjamas and Tom and Mary standing next to Robert and Edith.
"So you made it all the way across the pond and through the piling snow. Welcome home!" Bertie said from up above, smiling widely as he came down the stairs.
"Home at last, indeed," replied Robert jovially. "And we even brought a visitor from London with us."
Only then, Rosamund joined the rest of the family. She had stayed behind, lurking in the shadows of a pillar, observing the reunion of her brother and his beloved grandchildren. It warmed her heart to see Robert and Cora interact with them, how happy all of them were to see each other. But the scene was just another reminder of everything she did not have, and she could not help but feel slightly jealous. She would never admit that, not to anyone. It had taken her long enough to even be able to admit it to herself.
"Aunt Rosamund, what a welcome surprise! Come on in, all of you. Dinner should be served any minute now," said Mary, already on her way to embrace her aunt who had left Downton only three and a half weeks earlier.