A Million Dreams

Lights Out

There had been many, who arrived at Downton Abbey unable to contain their compliments on its grandeur and style. The elegantly carved stonework, delicate window and high spires have been welcoming guests for hundreds of years. Cora, however, saw none of its impressive qualities, arriving alone in a carriage in almost pure darkness. Her mother found herself gripped with rather a convenient headache, which forced her young daughter to make the journey alone. Nevertheless, her heart was pounding uncontrollably and her eyes darted from one window to another, desperate to catch any glimpse of her surrounding, yet dreading any potential interaction with it. Over the last two weeks, Cora learned what was expected of her in polite English society. She knew when to curtsy or smile graciously or how to correctly address various members of the aristocracy, but that had all been in ballrooms filled with music and large crowds that were more than happy to drown her out. This, on the other hand, was intimate. This was a familial situation fortunately added to by important yet equally intimidating faces who were most certainly there to critique her on everything from her clothes to her accent to the way she held her knife and fork. As the carriage pulled closer to the front entrance, Cora could see that this was no stuffy London house. This was Downton Abbey.

The cool air jolted her from her thoughts. The door opened and a footman offered her his hand as she stepped out and made her way along the gravel path. Cora couldn't help but feel that every servant she passed was staring at her, their eyes judgemental and willing her to leave before any damage was done. Following a well-learnt protocol, she gave her name to another footman standing at the entrance to the drawing room. He nodded and went to announce her arrival: "Miss Cora Levinson". Cora could see everyone examining her thoroughly. An elderly lady dressed in a deep mauve gown stool up, her gaze unwavering.
"Ah! Miss Levinson. We've been expecting you."
"It was kind of you to invite me, Lady Grantham." Cora tried hard to control her American accent but her nerves would not allow it.
"Yes..." Violet said slowly as she gave the girl another overview, "it was." Once establishing that Cora posed no threat to her plans for her son, she decided it was safe to introduce her to the other members of the party. "I'd like you to meet the Duke and Duchess of Crowborough, the Viscount Branksnome, Lord and Lady Merton, the Lady Marion Danley, my husband, Lord Grantham, and I believe you've already met my children: Lord Downton and Lady Rosamund." Cora was sure this overly formal introduction was purely for the purpose of intimidation and her fears were confirmed when Violet turned around and continued staring at her, waiting for a response. Cora didn't known what to do except smile and nod her head slightly in the direction of the other guests. Sometime in this awkward ritual, her eyes locked with a familiar blue gaze and her smile widened.

Robert hesitantly returned the smile, which got him a inquisitive look and raised eyebrows from Rosamund. His father observed carefully as he focused on her intently, as usual unable to uncover his thoughts. Richard could see where his son was coming from when he said this girl has a feel about her that separated her from the others, as if not being conditioned from birth in the British aristocracy gave her an impartial perspective and by contrast made everyone seem bland and hypocritical. One look at the expression on his wife, however, confirmed that Miss Levinson would not be allowed to have a future at Downton.

"Dinner is served, your Ladyship." A stern looking butler with domineering eyebrows and a superior presence silently entered the room and announced without a glance at the guests. To Cora, he appeared more authoritative than Lord Grantham himself, but just as disapproving when she walked past him and into the dining room.

The dinner table was stretched out long enough to sit at least 20 and yet by the time everyone sat down in their assigned locations it felt full to the point of claustrophobic. Cora found herself between a young gentleman she remembered had an impressive title and, presumable, an impressive area of land in tow, and the Viscount, who, upon closer consideration, Cora remembered was the host at one of the dances she was encouraged, or rather guilted into attending. What exactly made her recall the event so specifically was the Viscountess, a small, meek woman and the only person Cora encountered who seemed to hide away from people more than she did. However, this was the first time she met the husband and here they were thrust into polite conversation but some clever seating arrangements.
"How long are you visiting for, Miss Levinson?" His gentle voice made her instantly warm up to him.
"Only one more week I'm afraid. My mother and I have return tickets to New York on the 27th."
"You've must have hardly had any time to experience the country, if as I assume you've been carted from house to house." He laughed slightly before taking another forkful of mashed potatoes. He wasn't wrong, not really, Cora thought. One was meant to travel for the purpose of education and exploration and yet in two weeks she's scarcely seen anything outside the famed Mayfair ballrooms. The conversation, though undeniably a pleasant change from coldness Cora was used to facing, was short lived. That did, on the other hand, allow her to glance periodically at Robert sitting opposite. Once or twice he would look back, their eyes meeting with a certain understanding of the awkwardness of the whole evening.