A/N: This is a very belated birthday story for my dear batwings79.
Richard had forgot Isobel's birthday and was kicking himself as he rushed around the sitting room of Crawley house, moving furniture about to setup the scene he wanted. He'd lit a fire to warm the room, candles were set in strategic places to be lit when he had everything in place.
"How the hell did you forget her birthday?" he muttered as he moved the settee again, scowling when he couldn't get it to look as he wanted in the spot he'd moved it to. Moving it again, he rolled his eyes and gave up. It'd just have to stay where it had been in the first place.
Walking to the window, he looked out at the garden, watching as the sunset added an orange glow to the stone wall surrounding the area. The air had turned cold sometime mid-day, he'd been too busy to realize, finding out only when he'd hurried home and been hit in the face with the biting wind.
Turning, he checked the fire then made his way to the kitchen to check on their meal. Thankful for his grandmother teaching him how to cook, he'd put all of his skills in action tonight to prepare what he knew was Isobel's favorite meal and pudding. Walking into the kitchen, he sniffed the air, smiling as he thought of Isobel's nose twitching when she entered and caught the scent. Checking the dish in the oven, he nodded…it was perfect.
Hearing a noise at the front door, he made his way out to meet his wife, smiling at her when the door opened as she stepped inside. Helping her off with her coat, he took her hat after she'd unpinned it, setting both items aside before scooping her up into his arms, silencing her protest with a kiss.
Isobel frowned as she was carried upstairs. Any time she opened her mouth to say something, her husband silenced her with a quick kiss. While she didn't mind his kisses, not being able to say what she wanted was annoying her. Pinching his arm when he did it again, she glared at him when he chuckled and winked at her.
"No need to fuss at me for carrying you, Love, we're there."
"Oh," she huffed as he sat her down. "Richard Clarkson, what in the world has gotten into you?"
"You'll see." Richard told her quietly as he gently pushed her down to sit on the bed. "I'll be back in a moment. Don't move."
Isobel crossed her arms and scowled. She'd had a tiring day not to mention…well…she didn't even want to think about that. She'd be in a puddle of tears if she thought about what yesterday was and how…shaking her head, she started to scowl again until she heard the sound of running water.
"He left me here so he could bathe?" she mumbled.
"No. I didn't." Richard answered as he came back into their bedroom. Kneeling in front of her, he unfastened her shoes and took them off, placing them side by side out of the way. Skimming his hands up her calf, he held her gaze as he rolled down her stocking. Repeating the action on the other leg, he felt her shudder and saw her eyes darken. Laying her stockings on the chair by the bed, he held out his hand and helped her stand then slowly began to undress her.
Isobel wasn't sure just what her husband had in mind, but she knew what his actions were doing to her and knew what she had in mind as the last piece of her clothing was removed. Then Richard wrapped her in her dressing gown and had her frowning again.
Richard pressed a kiss to Isobel's forehead to soothe the wrinkles her frown caused. "Come along," he whispered as he took her hand and gently tugged her along to follow him out of the room.
Isobel's eyes widened when they entered the bathroom, steam billowing around them from the tub filled with lavender scented water. "Richard, what…" she started but stopped when he tapped her lips with his finger.
Untying the sash of her dressing gown, Richard let it slid off her, catching it and placing it on the small bench behind him before helping her into the tub. Once she was settled he carefully pulled the pins from her hair then placed a rolled up towel on the side of the tub to rest her neck on so she would be comfortable. Kneeling down next to the tub, Richard caressed her face. "I'm so very sorry that I forgot your birthday. I know that I hurt you and I have no excuse, but I hope that tonight will show you that I do love you, that I haven't lost interest in you."
Tears filled Isobel's eyes as she looked at her husband. She could see the regret in his eyes, his sincerity was written all over his face. She had been hurt, was still hurt, but he'd never lied to her and she knew that he wasn't lying now. "You've never forgot before," she told him in a quiet voice.
"I know," he answered in a voice as quiet as hers. Standing up, he moved behind her again. "Sit up. I'm going to wash your hair then let you relax while I go see to finishing our dinner."
"You cooked?" she asked as she looked up at him.
"I did." Richard smiled at her as he sat down and carefully began to pour water over Isobel's hair. "All of your favorites."
Isobel hummed and let her eyes close as Richard's fingers gently massaged the shampoo into her hair. She thought back to the first time Richard had washed her hair and smiled. She'd been shocked when he'd asked, confused that he wanted to do something she found so mundane. Her thoughts had changed by the time he'd finished. Even now, she could feel her body reacting to the touch of his hands as he gently worked to relax her even as he rinsed the suds from her hair. She'd never known that having one's hair washed could be so sensual, but then again…there were a lot of things that she'd found mundane that were no longer so now that she'd met Richard.
Wrapping her hair, Richard pressed a kiss to her forehead. "There you are, Love. I'll leave you to relax."
Reaching out and catching his hand, Isobel opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "No more apologizing, Darling. You're forgiven."
"Thank you for that, Love, but the night is still young…and my apology isn't finished." Richard winked at her then kissed her hand before letting go and continuing on his way.
Isobel sighed as she watched him disappear out the door. Whatever her husband had planned, she knew she was going to be one very pampered lady by the time the night was through.
RnI
Isobel hummed her approval of the warm sweetness of her favorite pudding. Her husband had outdone himself. He'd met her getting out of the bath and wrapped her in a warmed towel, patted her dry, then slipped a soft purple negligee over her head, insisting that it was perfectly fine for her to wear her nightclothes to dinner while he helped her into the matching dressing gown. He'd even combed out her hair, another task she'd found she enjoyed much more when he was the one doing the work.
Richard stood and moved to stoke the fire then walked to the gramophone and turned the crank. Smiling in satisfaction when their favorite song filled the room, he walked back to Isobel and held out his hand. "Dance with me."
Eyes bright with memories of past dances they'd shared on her birthday, Isobel easily slipped into his arms and molded her body to his, thankful they were in their own home so they could dance how they wished to.
Maneuvering them until they were close to the bay window, Richard pressed kisses to her damp hair, smiling at the way it had curled as it dried. "I want you to know that I asked Elsie to help me with your gift. And Charles, believe it or not, had a thing or two to add."
"Carson? Really?"
Richard chuckled at her surprise. "Yes. He told me I was a fool and that I should do more groveling than I've ever done in my life."
Lifting her head from his shoulder, Isobel cupped his cheek. "Oh no, Darling, no groveling. I was hurt that you forgot, but you've been very busy."
"I've been busy before and not been so forgetful."
"Did you really ask Elsie for help with this?" she touched the fabric of the dressing gown.
"I did. I knew I wanted purple," he grinned when she rolled her eyes at him. "I left the rest up to her. I do believe she has wonderful taste."
"She's seen my garments. You know that the family insists I have a lady's maid when I stay at Downton. Elsie always volunteers so that we can visit. She lets me dress and undress myself, something one of the others wouldn't do."
"She's become a good friend to you."
Isobel nodded. "Just as I think Carson has become a good friend to you. Especially if he's telling you that you're a fool," she giggled at the silly grin that turned up the corners of Richard's mouth.
"It does seem rather bizarre, but yes, he has. Being with Elsie has mellowed the man."
"Enough about them." Isobel whispered. "You've danced me to the window, why?"
"The gloaming."
Isobel frowned. "The gloaming?"
"Watch." Richard whispered as he turned her to look out the window.
Isobel leaned back against Richard, his arms around her holding her close. She felt the warmth of his breath as he whispered words she couldn't understand, but the tone of them made her shiver in response as if magic was happening all around them as the brilliant colors of sunset faded into muted colors of twilight as the day ended and descended into night.
*"In the gloaming, oh my darling…when the lights are dim and low and the quiet shadows falling, softly come and softly go." Richard whispered the words again so Isobel could understand what he'd said, knowing that she hadn't understood the Gaelic…smiling because he'd felt her reaction to the words all the same. "I've always felt this was a magical time of day. There's something in the air that…" he shrugged. "…I can't explain it very well."
Turning to smile up at her husband, Isobel traced his features with a delicate finger. "The Gaelic words make it sound like magic," she whispered. "Dance with me."
"The music stopped."
Isobel shrugged. "Dance with me."
Pulling her close, Richard curled his hand around hers and held them over his heart as he began to gently sway to the melody he was humming. Tugging at the sash of her dressing gown, he slid his free hand inside, resting it on the curve of her buttocks before pressing her lower body closer to his.
Isobel moaned and slid her hand up his chest, curling her fingers around his neck as they continued to sway to Richard's melody. "It's the purple again…isn't it?" she whispered as she looked up at him.
Richard's look was full of passion as he moved his hips against her. "What do you think?"
"Richard…the window."
"Isobel…the wall," he reminded her.
Looking up at him, Isobel's dark eyes held promise as her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt. He hadn't changed clothes, but he had taken off his tie and left a few buttons at the collar open which he knew always did things to her. Tugging the shirt from his pants, she pushed it open and sighed at the sight of his bare chest, thankful that he'd at some point removed his vest. "Mmm," she hummed as she skimmed her hands over his ribs up to his shoulders.
Richard sighed at the feel of Isobel's warm body pressed to his, her arms around his neck, head on his shoulder. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, something she knew always drove him to distraction.
"Take me to bed, Darling," she whispered, her body finally demanding more than just dancing.
Pulling back, Richard caressed her face then wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into his side as he slowly led them from the room and up the stairs. Stopping by their bed, he slid the dressing gown from her, letting it pool on the floor. "I…" he started, but Isobel's finger against his lips stopped him.
"No more words. Just show me."
His eyes said all that she needed to hear.
He would show her…over and over again.
*Poem by Meta Orred – according to what I read, the words first appeared in 1874 so they fit the DA timeline.