DISCLAIMER: The characters herein are used without permission. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To lucyvictoriabrown[at]gmail.com
SPOILERS: Up to the middle of series two.
In a Moment
By CharmedLassie
Cora declined to analyse precisely when things altered between her and Sarah. But, if she were to hazard a guess, it would be after her miscarriage, her accident, whatever you wanted to call it. After that it felt like O'Brien – Sarah – had drawn her into a cocoon and kept her safe from the world. Her foolishness had been forgotten in the midst of war but, still, Sarah remembered. She took care around her, more than before. And it vexed Cora to think that her simple ways of showing gratitude were not enough. True, Sarah was hardly fighting a war and Robert would call her attentions merely the acceptable attentions of a servant, but they meant so much to Cora; so much more than she could articulate.
It came to pass that if Sarah suggested a simple thing then she contrived to see it through. It was worth it for that elusive smile that crossed her face in an unchecked moment of happiness. Like the time she'd rather hoodwinked Robert into bullying Dr Clarkson to get Thomas transferred. It was worth it to see Sarah's happiness and to know that she had been the cause of that happiness. There was so much Sarah did for her in little ways, aside from her regular duties, and it felt almost criminal not to give something back. Their relationship had evolved, she supposed: a wage was not all Sarah wanted from her, nor was it the only thing that Cora wanted to give.
The moment came when she knew precisely what that was, and it came in the most average of ways. The war was still going on, blighting their lives and rearranging the house, when Sarah came in tired one evening to undress her.
'You look exhausted, O'Brien,' Cora said, trying to convey her warmth of feeling in her tone. Although she still adhered to the formality of names, she mentally referred to the woman as 'Sarah' alone.
'Oh, I'm all right, milady.'
'No, no, you're not. Please. Sit.' Raising herself to her feet, she shot Sarah her sternest look and it worked – her maid perched on the edge of the bed and rubbed her eyes.
'I'm sorry, milady. I'm not myself.'
'I can see that,' Cora murmured, sitting beside her and leaving far too little room between them. 'What is it?'
'I suppose you heard about the commotion the other night,' Sarah answered after a moment. 'With Mr Lang.'
'Of course. That was terrible. It's such a shame.' She said the words automatically, not fully understanding what she meant until she remembered the scene at the door, Lang sobbing into Robert's chest. 'It's heartbreaking,' she added softly.
'More than that, milady.'
The tremor of Sarah's voice conjured a terrible thought in Cora's mind. She could hardly explain why it shook her as much as it did; she only knew she yearned for it not to be true. Reaching across to touch Sarah's hand, she asked, as gently as she could, 'Is there something between you and Lang?'
Sarah snorted and withdrew a few inches. 'Not that, milady. Never that.'
'Oh.' Now Cora felt embarrassed, as though she'd attempted to cross a great gulf and become stranded in the process. However, relief still lingered beneath the embarrassment and, instinctively, she felt its source. As she wrestled with that, Sarah perceived...something.
'It brought back memories, that's all,' she said. 'My brother was in a similar way to Mr Lang, only he wasn't lucky enough to be invalided out.'
Ice flooded Cora's stomach. 'You didn't tell me that.'
'I didn't want to think about it, milady.'
'Stop with that,' she murmured, almost without thinking.
Sarah glanced at her. 'Sorry, milady?'
'I'm speaking to you as a friend, Sarah, not your mistress. We are friends, aren't we?'
The expression on Sarah's face was indecipherable. 'Of course.'
'I knew your brother had died,' Cora went on, once she was sure this alteration in status had been accepted by her maid. 'Of course I knew that but I never knew he went through what poor Mr Lang has.'
Sarah swallowed, painfully so it seemed. Cora touched her hand again and then threw caution to the wind and wrapped a comforting arm around her maid's waist. After a moment of resistance, Sarah rested her head on her shoulder and, suddenly, tears began cascading down Cora's dress. She only held her the tighter.
'I'm sorry,' Sarah whispered through her tears. 'I never meant to do this, not in front of you.'
The implications of that statement again shook her but she resolved to ignore them this time. So what if Sarah didn't consider them as close as she did, as close as Cora believed they were? This was neither the time nor the place to raise that issue – if there ever was a time or a place for such a thing.
'You do not have to apologise,' Cora told her soothingly.
'It was terrible,' Sarah murmured finally, once the tears had stemmed somewhat. 'He didn't recognise us, he thought he was in the trenches still. He had nightmares, such vivid things I've never seen the like of. Hoped I'd never see again.'
'You poor darling,' Cora said, holding her tighter. 'I don't know what to say. There's nothing I can say.'
There was a pause then Sarah replied, 'You're doing enough, milady.'
Even afterwards, Cora couldn't pinpoint exactly what it had been in that phrase that changed everything. Perhaps the reversion to formalities; perhaps the contradictory nature of the utterance. Or, perhaps, it was the way Sarah's breath caught as she spoke it, the way she leaned in further and pressed against her so enticingly.
Cora hesitated. The stab of jealousy she had no right or reason to hold had startled her but this embrace merely confirmed her wandering thoughts. Now the key was to remove herself from this situation before she alerted her poor maid to the scenario currently unfolding, rather agonisingly, in her mind.
'O'Brien,' she said quietly, 'would you like some time to compose yourself?'
Sighing, Sarah slipped away. 'Of course, miliady.'
Unable to resist, Cora snatched a glance at her maid's face and was astounded by the slither of desire that Sarah tried – and failed – to hide from her. For the moment, she didn't think. She drew Sarah back in, forgoing her desire to linger and instead claiming Sarah's lips in a brutish kiss. The effect on both of them was instantaneously. Sarah melted into her and Cora felt as though she would faint from the sheer delight of this sensation. Her hands roamed of their own accord, untwining Sarah's hair before she realised they were capable of it. As it fell to her shoulders, Sarah gained confidence, sliding her tongue into Cora's mouth. Taken by surprise, Cora whimpered but then chanced to do exactly the same thing. Sarah groaned softly and pulled her close.
Then a knock on the door startled them both. Sarah leapt away immediately, leaping in the direction of the bathroom and leaving Cora bereft on the bed. Following the knock, the door opened and Mrs Hughes entered.
'Milady, sorry to disturb you but Lady Sybil asked me to inform you that she'll be gone before breakfast, after all. She didn't want to disappoint you.'
Cora inclined her head, sincerely hoping she didn't look as though she'd been kissed to the brink of madness by her maid. 'Thank you, I won't come down as I planned to.'
'Very good, milady.'
The door closed and Cora rose instantly. She turned to the bathroom and saw Sarah in the doorway, hair already pinned up again, a look somewhere between terror and longing on her face. Cora swallowed at the intensity of it and stepped forward.
'Perhaps...perhaps you could undress me...Sarah?'
It seemed her maid was at her side in a moment, hands roaming her body hungrily. 'Yes, milady.'
The End