The Dowager Countess was worried, an emotion she was not accustomed to, nor did she appreciate. But as she sat in her sitting room waiting for Isobel to arrive, she could not help the anxiety causing her cane to tap incessantly.

She had wrung her cousin that morning, hoping to speak with Isobel herself. But the maid said Mrs. Crawley was out, of which Violet highly doubted, and that she would deliver the message as to what time to come for tea. The Dowager could almost see Isobel sitting alone, her nose in a book or throwing herself in to the new budget for the outpatient clinic. Though, perhaps the maid was not lying completely….Isobel did tend to go to the garden when she was upset or needed to think. Violet hoped for the latter, but upon Spratt announcing Isobel moments later, she realized Isobel had been anywhere but the garden.

"Goodness Isobel, you look dreadfully pale! Do sit down." Violet hurried over to take Isobel by the arm and sit her down on the settee. She looked back to the Butler, motioning with her head that he should exit.

As Spratt closed the door, Isobel smiled weakly at Violet and took off her gloves. "I'm quite all right, thank you."

"You're sure?" Violet asked, one eyebrow arching as she sat across from Isobel.

"Yes, quite. How are things with Spratt and Denker? You said you needed advice on keeping them from sparring with each other?"

Violet waved her hand and scoffed. "I don't think they will ever be able to get along. I would let Denker go but it took long enough to find a new maid! What am I to do if Rose is to get married? Surely there will be events in London….I cannot go without a maid again."

"I'm sure something could be worked out. Perhaps one of the maids from Downton could assist you?"

"No, knowing Cora, she will try to make Mary travel without Anna for some God-forsaken reason."

Spratt entered with the tea service and set it on the small table in the middle of the room.

"Will there be anything else, milady?"

"No, Spratt, thank you. Do tell Denker that I will be heading to Downton for dinner this evening. I'll change at half past six."

Isobel and Violet both noticed the roll of Spratt's eyes and the clearing of his throat before he silently left the room.

"I'm not sure your message will be relayed," Isobel said, following Violet to the table.

"I daresay it will not be. Really, the two of them act like a pair of children."

"Well, I suppose you will have to work on disciplining them then."

"Disciplining? No, no...I will simply withhold their days off until they begin to work with each other."

"Is that fair?"

"Fairness has no matter in the situation."

Isobel allowed the matter to rest, not having the energy or motivation to fight with Violet this afternoon. Violet poured the tea and cast a glance over at Isobel. The woman was truly paler than normal, and her eyes were distinctly red. She seemed to be smaller in some way, her shoulders dropped in defeat.

"Might I ask if you have heard from Lord Merton today?"

Isobel's fingers clenched around her tea cup. "No, I haven't. I don't suspect I will."

"Have you decided what you will do?"

"Meaning, will I still marry him?"

For the first time since the horrid dinner the evening before, Isobel's eyes met Violet's. The Dowager nodded silently, her look conveying rare concern instead of her typical curiosity.

"I cannot marry him…Larry was right. The disparity between us is too great."

Violet's eyes widened. "I must say you surprise me. I would never have imagined you of all people to believe that."

"But it is true, isn't it?" Isobel stood and crossed to the window, her arms crossing as she suddenly began to shiver. "You thought it yourself. I am a middle class nurse who has absolutely no authority in the community. I was raised in the home of a middle class physician, never was presented in court, and married in to a middle class family. I would not know the first thing about giving a large dinner party or hosting heads of state. I could never fill Lady Merton's shoes, and I would make Dickie the laughing stock in the House of Lords."

"My dear, the entity that is the House of Lords is already a laughing stock with this new government in place," Violet admonished, coming to stand beside Isobel.

But her hope to diffuse Isobel's melancholy was for not. She saw the tears in Isobel's eyes as the younger woman looked out the window.

"You do love him, don't you?" Violet asked quietly, cautiously placing a hand on Isobel's arm.

Isobel turned to face Violet, her eyes wide with fear. "What?"

"Do you love Lord Merton?"

"Well….I….of course I…."

"Isobel, if you truly love him, you cannot allow what his ridiculous son thinks to get in the way of your happiness. You do realize that Dickie is simply infatuated with you. I have never seen him as happy as the day you announced your engagement."

"But Larry and Timothy are and always will be his sons. I cannot come between a father and his children," Isobel replied, her voice eerily void of emotion.

"Do you really think that Lord Merton feels less for you because of Larry's snobbish remarks? No, this is Larry's way on ensuring his inheritance and nothing more." Violet scoffed once more and walked back to the table, frustratingly grasping the chair in front of her. This whole ordeal was infuriating….and though she knew in years past she may have agreed with Larry, times had changed!

"Larry has nothing to fear about losing his inheritance. Matthew is dead, and George will inherit Downton. Larry cannot possibly think Dickie would leave me anything."

Violet turned and sighed. Isobel was still facing the window, and the Dowager knew that there was no changing Isobel Crawley's mind once it was set. She knew Isobel thought she was doing the best thing for the Grey family, but was this truly for the best?

It was in that moment that Violet Crawley decided a phone call to Dickie Merton was in order.


"I'm afraid Mrs. Crawley is not up to tea today, milady. She has been quite under the weather as of late."

It had been a full week since Violet and Isobel had tea. She had phoned Lord Merton that same evening, and he confessed that he had given Larry quite a lecture regarding not only his rudeness but also his hurtful remarks that had absolutely no validity. But he was occupied with a few meetings and could not make it for the next week, though he wanted desperately to speak to Isobel.

Violet had arranged for tea on a Thursday and Lord Merton was due to arrive on the train that afternoon at 3:00. But now, as she spoke to the maid at Crawley House, her plan for Isobel and Dickie Merton to speak was slowly unraveling.

"Under the weather?"

"Yes, milady. She has turned down any invitations for the rest of the week. I'm ever so sorry, milady."

"Has she been seen by Dr. Clarkson?"

"No, milady. She said it was unnecessary."

"Perhaps I should call him for her?"

"Oh no, milady, please do not worry yourself. I'm afraid Mrs. Crawley would not hear of it."

Violet smirked. "I know she would not like it, but if she is that ill, she needs to be seen by a physician."

"Well…."

"My dear, I do not wish to put you on the spot. Tell Mrs. Crawley she is expected to be at tea at the Dower House at 4:00 this afternoon. If she is not here, I will come for her myself."

Before the maid had an opportunity to protest, Violet hung up the phone. Smiling to herself, she walked down the hall with a slight spring in her step and head held high.