Speak now
Part 1
I am not the kind of guy
Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion
But you are not the kind of girl
Who should be marrying the wrong boy
He showed up in Church in the end, after collecting the invitation from the garbage bin where he had thrown it. Just to give a look: that was the poor excuse he had repeated to himself, but that didn't actually explain why he decided to sit down, ready to attend the whole ceremony, or why he had dressed up so well. He looked almost more handsome than the groom - almost because that day he was a shadow anyway, while all the eyes were currently on the predictably excited Lord Merton. From his half hidden seat on one of the further bench from the altar, he could actually see everything: the servants of the Abbey right in front of them, then the whole Grantham family laughing together over something, some nobles he had had the chance to see somehow or others completely strangers, but most of all Merton's snotty little family showing overconfidence even at that distance.
In spite of the undeniable pang of pain in his chest, Richard had chosen to stay there. However, it was only when he heard the well known numptial march and was forced to stood up by inertia, that he understood why. Not long after, Isobel appeared from the door, alone and only preceeded by her young grandson as her pageboy; her pace wasn't steady and she looked nervous, but she was beautiful as always and maybe in that light blue dress even a bit more. For a moment, he dared to ask himself if the reason of her uncertainty was just normal emotion or maybe an actual second thought about the wedding itself; for a moment, he dared to daydream about the chance of being in the groom's place. That little fantasy hurt none the less, and hurt twice to see that she didn't even try to look for him into the crowd. But he was also glad of that though, because he knew that meeting her eyes would have been too much to bear.
He sat down imitating once again the rest of the people, but the principle of inertia couldn't work with his ears. He managed not to listen to any word of the function and instead let himself got lost inside his mind a little more. No hopes this time, no fantasies: just unfulfilled questions, lost chances, buried feelings and too many things left unspoken.
"Speak now or forever hold your peace"
He didn't know why but he was able to catch clearly that solemn sentence, which was able immediately to shook him from his gloomy paralisys. Or maybe it was the full silence, or the bride's now wandering eyes or his own hammering heart. But what really pushed him in the end to action was something bigger than fear and despair and even bigger than love. It was a curios mixture of pride and annoyance, as his eyes crossed for a single moment Lady Violet's challenging glare and at once her last words to him echoed in his mind…
*THREE DAYS BEFORE*
"I am here to make sure you will come to the wedding…"
One hand resting on her hip, the other holding the knob of her black stick: that's how Violet Crawley was standing right in front of the doctor's desk, waiting for a reply to her suggestion – even if actually it sounded more as a command.
But unlucky for her, Richard had learnt through the years how to handle the dowager countess' famous fierce character and now he knew that, if he couldn't avoid her lectures, at least he could avoid her subtle intimidation by avoiding her gaze. So, lowering his eyes as soon as he could, he just shrugged slightly and managed to make a small smile.
"I don't think it is your job to give invitations in place of the happy couple, or maybe is it?"
She frowned for a moment, confused by the meaning of that remark. But, when she actually grasped it – or at least thought that she had –, she widened her eyes and took instictively a step forward. "Are you telling me that Mrs Crawley hasn't invited you to the wedding?" Her surprise, so evident both in the face and in the voice, was so much that she probably didn't even aknowledge the not too polite way the doctor had just spoken to her.
"Of course, she has!" he replied quickly though, "it's just that I don't think it would be appropriate for me to be present. Trust me, my Lady, it is better for everyone if I don't attend this wedding."
Violet relaxed immediately and relaxing for her meant regaining her usual stern composure. Far from being discouraged by his obvious little collaborative behavior, she found a new confidence in her purpose instead. And that was the reason why she decided to push her luck a bit more. "Better for whom? Listen, Doctor Clarkson, I am perfectly aware of your feelings for my cousin, you can't deny that…"
He didn't even try in fact, remaining in silence just long enough to let her understand that she had hit the point. Then, he suddenly let out a brief joyless chuckle, which let his annoyance show probably more than his previous brusque answers. "Then, if you know, how can you expect me to see her marrying another?" In spite of the blunt words, he managed to maintain a calm voice. However, in the meanwhile, he made the terrible mistake to look up.
"On no, dear Doctor, I am asking you to come not to attend the wedding, but to stop it!" the countess exclaimed immediately, taking the chance to meet his eyes and finally perform her intimidating glare.
Maybe it was for the forward unexpected suggestion or maybe it was for that look, but Richard, in misdt of his growing irritation, had the decency to blink twice in clearly discomfort. "Honestly, Lady Grantham, do you think I am the kind of man who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion?" he asked eventually, with a sort of painful irony filling his voice.
But if he sounded amused by that prospect, she looked for the first time completely serious, as her gaze faded into an empathetic one. "No, you are not, but Isobel is not the kind of woman who should be marrying the wrong man…" Just as that meaningful whisper left her mouth, she cleared her troat and, abandoning once again her soft side, she bid him goodbye and, before he could say anything, turned in order to leave.
Once she reached the door though, she turned around again and revealed a triumphant smile that she was probably waiting to make since the very start of that conversation. "Just remember that I haven't come back all the way from France to see this!"
Thoughtful, confused and upset, Richard just watched the womanleave without any reaction and, only when the door was closed and he was left alone in his office, he found himself awakened enough to slowly sit down. A slight tiny hope was creeping inside him after that visit, he could tell that, as the actual image of himself running to Crawley House right in that moment and confessing his feelings to Isobel formed in his mind. But as soon as it appeared, he sighed angrily and purposely started to look for a particular invitation card among the many papers on the messy desk. Despite the chaos, he found it soon: "Lord Richard Merton and Mrs Isobel Crawley are glad to announce their wedding"; he looked at it for some moments, then rolled his eyes and just threw it in the garbage bin.
Despite his inner state of anxiety, Richard managed to hold the dowager's look and unexpectedly found himself nodding at her silent request. He was surely not the kind of person to ruin a formal occasion or even to attract the general attention, but honestly, he knew that there was too much at stake and too little time left to care about reputation, embarassment or other people's judgement. After all, he owed a little show to Lady Violet, didn't he?
Reverend Travis had already started to talk and the two spouses-to-be were looking at each other again, when the doctor suddenly stood up, not even realizing it or more probably chosing not to think about it. He heard some gasps in surprise and was also sure to be receiving horrified looks from – almost – everyone in the room, but in that precise moment only Isobel and her astonished face existed for him. A face he found the courage to nervously smile to.
"Actually, I fear I can not hold my peace…"
Hello dear richobels, I'm back with a new story that will probably consist of 4 parts. "But Dr. Clarkson might interrupt the wedding to declare his undying love for her": I read this sentence in an article and then, combining it with a male cover of Taylor Swift's "Speak now", this (silly) plot came out. lol I am well aware that even if Richobel will happen, this is not likely to be the way, but we can still dream in fanfiction, can't we? I hope you'll let me know what you think about it and that you are interested in reading the next chapters:)