I've just been informed that old Lady Grantham is in my office. I guess her status of chairwoman of the board extends for life. "May I ask to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

I watch as she grips the silver handle of her cane, "I'll get straight down to it. You know how Lord Merton likes to display his interest on all things medical, at least he likes to when in the company of Mrs. Crawley."

"Your confidence is a compliment." I say with a hint of sarcasm.

She bristles slightly, "I confide in you doctor Clarkson because I must. Only you can help."

"That is more flattering still." I say trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

"It's the families fault really. We've trained her in our ways, the earnest intellectual bon bourgeois has been replaced by a rather less definable figure."

Now I am confused, "Are you saying you liked her better when she was more middle class?"

"No, I wouldn't go that far." She states with authority.

I use my hands to try and organize my thoughts as I speak, "But you understood her better?"

Her face lights up, "Precisely! Now I do not know who she is I do not know what it is she wants."

I know what it is that the Countess wants or more precisely what she doesn't want, "Well there are many who wouldn't be much puzzled by the desire to marry a Lord and live in a palace. Can I ask you a personal question?"

She seems to chuckle at this, "I've lived through great wars and my share of grief I think I can manage an impertinent question from a doctor."

I take a breath through my nose before delivering, "Do you perhaps resent the idea of a change of position for Mrs. Crawley?"

Her eyes narrow, "I do not quite grasp your question. It bewilders me. But I will say this Do you wish to see her live a life devoid of industry and moral worth?"

Her question hits me hard and I answer honestly. "I do not."

She smiles slightly, "And when the glitter is tarnished you know what then a hollow existence in a large and draughty house with a man who bores her to death."

Again I speak truthfully, "It's a terrible prospect."

"So our duty is clear." She says before she rises from her chair to exit my office.

Is it? I have no clue as to what it is I am supposed to do. Days later I find that I have once again been invited to luncheon. I try and test the waters with Lord Merton, I pick a medically neutral topic of goiters. I don't want to spout statistics about amputation or delve into anything gory. He is knowledgeable about the condition. I then realize that this man can give more to Isobel than I ever could. He is rich, has a position and is interested in her interests. Spratt comes in and we stand, as we move towards the door Lord Merton speaks again about the Victorians and Isobel smiles. Yes, this man would be a fantastic match for her. I pull up short and the Dowager is there and I whisper,"The truth is they're well suited whether we like it or not and I don't believe he's faking his interest in medicine."

She inhales sharply, "I'm afraid I agree with you."

The rest of the luncheon passes and my mind is elsewhere, I'm sure I make the appropriate noises when directed to. After it's done I slip out and return the hospital. For the time being this is my palace. I can be Lord here. In the days that follow I see her out in the village with him. I don't begrudge her happiness, she should have some happiness. I receive another invitation from the dowager but I decline. I state hospital business as my reason why. I refuse to be a pawn in some power play in Downton.

Luckily for me there is patient, a young boy. I hear a commotion and the screens are pushed apart and I experience Deja Vu. There is Isobel, the Dowager and Lord Merton. Jason, my patient begins to squirm.

"It's all right Jason, you're not in trouble. What can I help you with?" I ask.

The dowager is breathes harshly, "We wanted to see if we could tempt you to join us."

Jason had been bitten by one of the horses on his farm, I was in the middle of cleaning his wound. There on table next to the bed was a basin full of soiled and bloodied cotton wool and gauze. "I'm rather busy at the moment" I say as I indicate with my head to the damaged arm.

I hear a loud swallow and look up, Lord Merton is as white as a sheet. I've seen my share of fainters, "Chair" is all I say.

Mrs. Crawley knows the command and leads Lord Merton to an empty bed. She pushes his head down, "Put your head between your knees and try to breathe normally."

With the gawking crowd gone I get back to treating my patient.

With Jason's arm back together in one piece I go to my office to write up the chart. My office door opens and the dowager walks up and sits in one of the visiting chairs. I simply stare, I can't find any quippy remarks.

"You must get her to see! She can't be content with a man who wilts at the sight of blood!"

At this I actually toss my pen down onto the chart, "What would you have me do?"

"Fight for her!" is her command.

I lean back in my chair and sigh, "The day before your great grandson was born, I asked her to marry me and she refused. Now while he may 'wilt' as you say he still knows her interests, has a title and Spratt will actually acknowledge him. He has more stripes than I. Now if you'll please excuse me I need to finish this."

I turn my focus to my paper and force myself to keep it there. I hear the scraping of her chair as she moves to leave. At least hereI am a Lord.