She walked into the doctor's office before precisely waiting to here the reply to her brisk knock. Her hands were shaking. The door snapped shut behind her, apparently of its own accord. She barely even registered Richard's concerned expression as he watched her move restlessly into and then about the room. She was just so… taken aback, really. Just phenomenally taken aback. Thinking about it, she should certainly have seen the signs of forewarning. But proposals seemed to have a knack of catching her horribly off guard.

"Good afternoon- Mrs. Craw-… Isobel? Are you alright?"

"I'm not sure," she replied.

"Well, what's happened?" he asked her, standing up, offering her the chair at the other side of his desk, "Will you sit down?"

"No thank you," she replied, continuing to pace back and forth, "I've just had something of a shock, that's all."

"Oh dear," the doctor paused for a moment, and Isobel sensed that he was wondering quite what to do. She supposed she had now continued the chain and taken him rather by surprise. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not unless you've got anything that can wind back the last hour or so," she told him, "So I can go and give myself a bit of a warning."

He smiled softly at her sense of humour, even now.

"I'm sorry, I can't give that stuff out over the counter," he told her.

Isobel stopped abruptly, and then smiled too at his mildly insolent humour. It seemed, at any rate to calm her down a little to take a little of the anxiously whipped up wind out of her sails.

"I suppose you're wondering quite what I'm making such a fuss about?" she asked, sinking at last into the chair that she had originally been offered.

"Well, the thought did cross my mind," he replied, "But I would never have dreamed of pressing for an answer."

No, he wouldn't have, would he. When he had tried to propose to her himself, he hadn't even pressed for one then. The memory brought a sense of guilt welling up in Isobel's throat and she considered that perhaps she should not be here, telling him about this particular plight. She hadn't considered it up until this moment. She hadn't considered it at all, she had just come here. And now, she sensed, it was too late to leave without telling him, regardless of whether or not she should be doing so.

So she simply came out with it.

"Lord Merton has asked me to marry him," she told him.

Now he truly was taken aback, she could tell. He tried to disguise the way he stopped abruptly for a moment, but she caught it.

"What did you say?" he asked her.

"No, of course," she told him in reply, "At least I think I said no. I was rather taken by surprise by the whole thing, actually."

There was a pause.

"Goodness, Richard!" she asked him, blurting it out, realising only now what his previous question had meant, "Did you think I would have said yes to him? I didn't even say yes to-…"

He looked up at her sharply, meeting her eyes just as she broke off. She took a deep breath.

"To you," she finished, as bravely as she could.

He let out a ragged breath, seeming to calm himself.

"Well," he managed at last, "It's good to know that I at least came closer than Lord Merton did. Even if my offer wasn't entirely to your liking either."

"It wasn't when you made it."

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