Robert had woken up due to the scullery maid lighting up the fires. He rarely woke up from her, but this morning he had been in a light sleep. He kept still, so the girl would not notice, she woke him up. He did not want to embarras her.
Once the fire was burning high again and the maid left to tend the rest of the fires in the house, he turned on his side. Cora was curled up, sleeping on her side of the bed, facing in his direction. Her hair had gotten loose and was draped over her face and pillow.
The soft light of the fire gave Cora an angelic look. She had a serene look on her face. Robert was relieved to see her finally in a peaceful state again. Since her treatment started, Cora has, had many restless nights. She rarely admitted that to him, but he could see it in her eyes. There was a deep exhausting visible.
It reminded him of the many broken nights when the girls were young. Cora had insisted on feeding the girls herself. Much to his mother’s disdain. It resulted in her being awake a lot during the night. Even though she did not sleep much, her exhaustion had been different. She did get so much in return, she had said repeatedly and he could see it in the smiles their little girls gave her when she entered the room. As soon as she picked them up or started talking to them, they settled down. He had never been surprised by that, because her voice had the same affect on him.
This exhaustion was much deeper as if her whole body was weighing down on her. Every inch of her body was tired. It was no wonder she was this exhausted, her body had to work hard to keep her going and the treatment was far from, a fun ride on the carousel.
It was Rosamund who got her to take it easier. Cora had kept going on and on, not taking it any slower. Not wanting to disappoint anybody. Who did she think she would disappoint? Robert had thought. She had been the strong countess, especially on the day of Violet’s funeral. And even the days after, when there were no house guests and Dr. Clarkson started her treatment, Cora insisted on going on in their normal rhythm. Robert had tried to get her to slow down. He had told her, it was alright to not come down before lunch. It was even alright when she would decide to only come down for tea.
One afternoon, Rosamund had been over. They were all sitting in the drawing room. Tom and Lucy were talking about the plans they had with the villa when out of nowhere Cora dropped her cup. Rosamund had been the first, to take action.
“Cora, we better go upstairs.” She had said in a firm voice and helped Cora get up from the sofa. Robert had been scared when he saw how unstable she was. He had told her dinner would be brought up to her.
From that afternoon on, she stayed upstairs most of the day. Not waisting energy by walking downstairs. Robert carried her down, as soon as the walls of her room closed in on her. He was glad Cora let him take care of her.
Cora stirred in her sleep, Robert looked at her face again. A curl rested on her cheek, it had lost its deep chestnut brown colour. He loved the shimmering parts of grey in her hair. Scooting closer, he carefully put the curl behind her ear, and before he pulled his hand back, he traced her jawline.
Her skin was as soft as the first time he touched her, almost 40 years ago. He could not resist and pressed his lips on her forehead. He could still smell her night creme, it had a soft flowery smell.
Robert moved his hand to Cora’s shoulder and upper arm. He brushed over the silky fabric of her nightdress, he would love to feel her skin. It was a long time ago, she had enough energy for him. He felt instantly guilty because Cora had never denied him anything before they went to France. And she had been sick already. She had shown so much strength. He could never be that strong, he thought.
Cora moved and the curl that he just tucked away, draped over her cheek again. He picked it up and twirled it around his finger. He loved these stolen moments, where Cora did not know he was looking at her. Studying every line on her face, every little movement of her eyebrows. His other hand rested on her pillow, just above her head.
He saw her mouth twitch and a soft smile appeared, but her eyes were still closed. He knew she was waking up, he could see a slight change in the tension in her jaw. Her hand moved and now rested against his chest.
He moved his hand that was resting on her pillow and buried it into her hair, softly massaging her scalp. Cora let out a deep sigh and nestled herself firmly against Robert’s body. His left arm wrapped around her and rested between her shoulder blades. He felt Cora angle her face up and her lips pressed against his chest. Right on the spot where his nightshirt fell open. A slight shiver went through his body. “Good morning” she murmured.
Robert pressed a kiss on the top of Cora’s head. “Good morning my love.”
Cora wiggled herself even closer to his body and he felt another deep sigh leave her body. One of her feet found its way between his calves, he loved that feeling. As if she was trying to become one with him. Her hand had found its way under his shirt, making sure she was connected with him. He admired her so much, how she found ways to stay intimate with him, even though she lacked the energy to truly be with him.
“How long have you been staring at me?” She asked.
Robert felt embarrassed, he did not realize she had noticed. He had done it so many times over the last weeks. Not only when she was sleeping, but every chance he got he studied her. As if he wanted to ingrain every memory of her in his mind.
“I am not going anywhere.” Cora said as if she had read his mind.
Robert pressed her even firmer against his chest. He knew Dr. Clarkson had said she was not going to die. Not yet, but he could not rest before she was truly better.
While her one hand stayed on his chest, she moved the other one up and touched his cheek. He felt how she pushed herself up, so her face was at the same level as his.
“I will get better. And I feel better already.” Her eyes met his and he did not see anything besides her love for him.
“Oh, darling.” His words caught in his throat. He used the exact same words that night in France. Another escaped curl rested on her forehead. He picked it up, twirled it around his finger before tucking it away.
“Do you think I should die my hair?”
Robert was surprised by her question. “I love the silver linings in your hair. They represent all the silver linings you brought into my life.” He touched the wrinkles next to Cora’s eyes and mouth. “As do these beautiful lines. They tell me the story of our life together.”
He felt Cora chuckle. “You romantic fool.” She said softly, but with so much love in her voice.
“Only for you, my darling. Only for you.” Softly he pressed his lips on hers.
Verhalen van Traan 