Isobel Crawley was neither a teenager nor an athlete yet she could swear she walked, or rather, stampeded to the hospital with record velocity. She was chatting with Lord Merton outside the church after service, her head wasn't quite in the conversation and she was surprised the gentleman did not take offense at how distracted she was, given that he was still waiting for an answer to his proposal.
She noticed Dr Clarkson's absence – true he was not a 'church every Sunday' kind of man but something did not feel quite right in her stomach. Her gut was, as per usual, right. Two nurses were chatting right behind them and one let slip that she had to go as they had an 'all hands on deck' situation "what with the doctor being ill".
Isobel quickly and rather rudely abandoned her almost fiancée at the church and made a run for the hospital. It couldn't be! They were having luncheon and the dowager house just a couple of days before –he looked good! Really good…- hold on Isobel this is not a healthy thought.
She was still chairman of the board so nobody made a fuss when she made a beeline to the nurse in charge and demanded to see doctor Clarkson.
"Oh, I'm afraid he's not too well . We found him with quite a high fever and sweating bullets this morning in his office cot. is coming to cover today but we don't know exactly what it is."
"Where is he?"
The nurse pointed to the bed at the far end of the hospital. What she found made her gasp, literally. Her beloved doctor lay there with his shirt open, clearly not breathing well, covered in sweat. She sat by his side, rinsed a cloth in the water and wiped his brow as he murmured in his sleep…she did not think it would be this bad and she did not need Dr. Bolt to tell her it was an infection in the lower respiratory system. She did not know if it was bronchitis or pneumonia – she had to wait till he coughed and woke up to discover more but as a single tear ran down her cheek, she sent up a prayer begging God not to take the last man she'd ever love.
She caressed the side of his face. How could he be this bad? She knew he had been treating some children in the village with bronchitis but he was always careful. Careful…he was the careful one.
She was brave, fearless, idealistic and downright feisty but she was all of those things because she had him. Her counterpart and often partner in crime, he was her best friend and the other side of the coin. He was anything but volatile – he was stable, calm in every crisis he was the anchor keeping her down to earth when her head was taking her into outer space he was logical almost to a fault and he was absolutely indispensable to her life.
She would get him through this, she simply had to.
