I'm not entirely convinced I like what I've written but the story seemed to need a conclusion.
Enough Of A Reason Part Two
Isobel glanced up and down the street, a wry smile on her lips. "I didn't expect you to meet me here," she said, her tone laced with bemusement. "I thought that we had agreed to meet at The Copper Kettle."
"I thought it might be nice if we walked together." He in turn glanced up and down the street, his brow furrowing as he saw nothing amiss. "I didn't anticipate it would be a problem." They were friends, or at least that was the impression she had given him of late and it seemed only natural to meet her for lunch, although as they stood awkwardly scanning their surroundings he began to wonder if she was somewhat embarrassed by him.
"You do realise what I do here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who I work with?"
"I do." He chanced a grin, happy in the knowledge that it was his reputation she was concerned with and not his presence. Although it hadn't occurred to him while he had been waiting, people had given him strange looks, and many of the women had scowled. The realisation as to why made him reconsider his rash decision to arrive early. He offered her his arm. "And it's very commendable."
Isobel arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "Commendable, Richard? Your expression is saying something entirely different." She remained on the spot, ignoring his arm and fixing him with a glare.
He let out a deep, slightly irritated, sigh, before taking her arm and linking it through his as he did so. "Yes, Isobel, commendable. Worthy. Selfless. But for many reasons I rather wish you hadn't chosen this as your vocation." That seemed to surprise her into silence, at least for a few minutes and he managed to move them a few feet.
"You are quite safe waiting outside, you know," she offered as they fell into step. "The 'gentlemen' tend to stay well clear of the building. And there aren't that many women who want to be seen consorting with the girls I work with. So there is very little chance of you getting into any trouble. Of course you could have come in and met the girls and I could have shown you what I do here." The idea of him entering a room filled with former women of the night was one that brought a gentle roll of his eyes.
"That would be total inappropriate in my position." Although at some point the women really should have a nurse or doctor take a look at them, he mused. He wasn't about to volunteer.
"And what about when you no longer hold that position?" Although she tried to keep her question as casual as she could, she was still intrigued by what he might do in retirement. The idea of the two of them working on a project together was one that held great appeal but she was always conscious of the fact it would have to be something he considered appropriate.
His face flushed almost beetroot as he blustered beside her, his body pulling slightly away. "I have never, and would never contemplate using their services." Isobel laughed mildly.
"I wasn't suggesting that, Richard. I just wondered if when you retire you might drop by and take me to lunch occasionally."
They continued to walk, following the winding alleys towards the cathedral and the tea room that he frequented whenever he was visiting the hospital.
"Even if I don't retire I could take you to lunch."
Her smile widened at his words. "You're wavering."
Richard came to an abrupt halt and turned to look at her. He took a deep breath, pondering how honest to be, his tone turning serious. "I don't know what I'm going to do, Isobel. I thought I did, I thought it was for the best and now . . ."
"That's why we're having these lunches." Lightly she squeezed his arm, concerned suddenly by his change in mood. Whenever he talked about leaving there was a sadness in his eyes, his body almost slumping in defeat and she wished he would just admit how wrong the notion was for him, but he wouldn't and so they continued to have lunch and dinner. She couldn't bring herself to beg him to stay and she wouldn't tell him it was for the best that he went so instead they ate well and enjoyed each others company.
"Is it?" he asked, his tone lacking patience.
She looked up at him, her deep brown eyes barely concealing her concern. "If you really want to go, if you feel there is no other way, then you know I'll support you." The all too familiar pain in her chest caused a sharp intake of breath and she turned away.
"I know that, but that isn't what I meant." He contemplated telling her the truth, spelling out the intentions behind his question. Instead he continued walking, his eyes darting to look at her at intervals as he tried to reason with himself.
The tea room was small, tucked away in a side street, and thankfully not too busy. Once seated he ordered tea for both of them and an afternoon tea spread. For a while they talked about the hospital, her family and the upcoming cricket match. It was comfortable and easy going as they ate and enjoyed each others company. The moment didn't last.
"So are you going to tell me the reasons why I should have chosen another vocation?" Isobel asked casually, her fingers toying with the dainty cake on her plate as her eyes bore into him. The topic had been silently bothering her since he said it but she had chosen to wait, often finding patience brought better rewards.
"I didn't say you should chose another vocation. Only that there are reasons why I wish you hadn't chosen this one, especially now." He discreetly rolled his eyes, knowing that she wouldn't let him escape the inquiry, not that he hadn't expected her to raise the subject again. He had hoped however for time to prepare.
He had her intrigued and that meant there was no way she was going to let up until he told her the truth. Richard had been her strongest supporter since their success with his dropsy patient, always backing her choice in causes, helping when he could, his words as she left for France resounding in her ears whenever she debated the merit in her decision. If he was now questioning her then things between them were perhaps not as certain as she believed. "So why exactly should I have leaned towards a different vocation?" she asked pushing her plate away and cocking her head to one side, waiting him out.
"Let me see, the reasons why . . ." He took a breath, preparing for glibness but finding the intensity of her gaze somewhat off putting.
She leaned forward, her hands gently resting on the table.
"I worry about your safety; walking the streets in York late at night."
"I don't think I'll get mistaken for one of my girls," she laughed, clearly amused by the absurdity of the idea.
"That's not what I meant," he groaned, frustrated by her take on his concerns.
Isobel covered his hand lightly with her own, her way of apologising for not taking him seriously. "I don't do it often and I always have a driver to take me home."
"What if someone tries it on?" he asked awkwardly. "Tries to push their luck? Can you defend yourself?" As much as he admired her strength and determination, she was slim and delicate and he couldn't imagine her being able to fend off an attacker.
"It's never happened."
Richard had been a doctor long enough not to rely on the fact something had never happened, to assure it never would. "And I worry about your reputation," he stated firmly, glancing at their hands resting together on the table in full view of everyone and not caring.
"As a do-gooder?" She asked, feigning amusement.
He rolled his eyes dramatically. "You're consorting with. . ." He lowered his voice. "Prostitutes. There is a former one, and I don't begrudge that you're trying to help her, living and working in your home. It opens you up to rumour and innuendo."
"Now you just sound like Cousin Violet. And I don't think I particularly like disapproving Richard," she chided. "This right now is where I'm needed. Anyway I thought you said there were many reasons." She tilted her head to study him. "We promised to be honest," she reminded him, exasperated by the regurgitation of everything she had heard from the family.
"You'll think me silly."
"Have I ever given you the impression I consider you silly? Have I ever shown you anything but the upmost respect?"
"No." Richard had the good graces to look chastised. "It's just we're getting into more personal territory."
Her hand squeezed his. "I think I'm ready for that," she acknowledged, hoping he wouldn't choose the moment to question her choice of phrase.
"I wish you hadn't decided to move your work to York, because it took you away from the hospital, and from me. It was alright when you helped out every few days. I had something to look forward to, then you stopped coming and I didn't know when I would see you." As he opened his mouth the words tumbled out and it was only as he paused to breathe that he realised what he had implied.
Her mouth gaped open at his admission. "You missed me?"
"Yes." He ducked his head, his cheeks pinking up.
"Then moving away makes no sense," she mused out loud, considering his position. "You could be in another county. You would only get letters, maybe a visit once in a while. You would never get to see me and surely you would miss me more . . . Oh my."
His head jerked up. "Isobel."
Her head was swimming, the realisation flooding her senses as she stared at him. "We pledged to be honest." She was a little afraid, she had to admit, of the intensity of her reaction to his words. Her feelings, so carefully concealed, were in danger of being reciprocated and she had no idea what that meant, but she needed to hear him say it.
"Sometimes honesty isn't the best policy," he replied, his mouth going dry.
"It isn't my arguments that have you wavering. It's me. You're leaving because . . ."
"Please," he interrupted, not wanting to hear her words.
"It wouldn't have been fair to ask you to stay because I didn't want you to leave," she stated, changing tact. "My feelings for you, they shouldn't impact on your decision." I love you, she had wanted to say, and I want you in my life, in what ever capacity I can have you but instead she had constantly discussed why leaving might benefit him, what staying might mean and now they were actually bringing feelings to the debate.
"My feelings for you do." He caught her gaze. "I'm sorry. I've tried to hide behind what is appropriate."
Silently she removed her hand from his. "Richard, after everything you're still worried about what is appropriate. You'd rather leave and be unhappy than risk telling me how you feel."
He reached for her hand, clasping it in his own. "I couldn't imagine circumstances where you might feel the same."
"Now you are being silly, you sweet man. I may be forward and forthright, and at times frustratingly outspoken but I do come from a generation where men are expected to declare their feelings first and make some attempt at courting before a lady reciprocates."
Richard laughed awkwardly. "I invited you to lunch, I'm holding your hand, and I've admitted that you are the reason I decided to leave, does that constitute declaring my feelings and attempting to court you."
Isobel quirked her lips up into a smile. "It does. I don't want you to leave, Richard. But I want you to be happy, and if that means you need to be somewhere else, then how can I stand in your way?"
He shook his head, as his fingertips tenderly stroke the back of her hand. "I don't think I can be happy anywhere else, but I don't want to work for the Crawleys anymore, and I thought being anywhere but here with you would allow me to get over you so to speak."
"So you do want to be with me?" she asked happily.
"Very much."
Her smile widened. "And you're not ready to retire."
At the shake of his head, she pursed her lips and considered his options. "In all likelihood you could get a position at the hospital here in York."
"It's a possibility," he confirmed, knowing that one simple phone call would get him an interview.
"And we could have lunch and dinner."
"That we could," he agreed with a wide smile, amused by her enthusiasm. "But I would still be expected to do long shifts, night shifts, maybe even work through Christmas."
Lightly, she placed her free hand over their joined ones. "So we'd resort to late suppers, early breakfasts and we can celebrate Christmas together any time." It didn't occur to her that only moments ago she was trying to convince her closest friend to stay in Yorkshire and now she was planning their relationship. "That's if you want to. If in declaring your feelings you are asking if we might embark on a courtship," she said, her tone less assured than it had been moments before.
Lifting her hand to his lips, he gently kissed her knuckles. "I would be honoured, Isobel. Although first I need to secure a position and somewhere to live. That does not mean that I don't want to see you in the meantime but to stay I need to ensure an income and a home, at least for a few months."
"And at the end of the few months?" She hoped she had read his implication correctly but she wanted to hear him say it.
Richard beckoned the waitress over, suddenly aware of the time. "I'm hoping by then we might be in a position to discuss marriage and finding a home for both of us."
"A few months?"
"However long it takes, my darling," he said, a small vee forming in his brow as he wondered if he was being too presumptuous. " A few months, a year. I have waited eight years I'm sure I can wait a little longer. Not too long though."
Isobel shook her head. "Long enough for me to back out of some of my commitments, to hand over the reigns and prepare to be a doctors wife."
Richard placed a handful of notes beside the receipt and rose to his feet, his hand never leaving hers. "I would never ask you to do that."
"I know. And I don't want to let anyone down." She waited as he opened the door to the tea shop and allowed her to exit before him. "But I thought I had lost you. I've lain awake at night wondering how I can convince you to stay, how quite frankly I could get cousin Violet to convince you not to go. We have a second chance and I won't let anything spoil that." She linked her arm through his, falling easily into step with him.
"Will being my wife be enough for you?"
"If being my husband is enough of a reason for you to stay then being your wife is enough, more than enough, my darling man." Isobel stopped walking, waiting a second for him to turn and look down at her.
"Isobel?"
Silently she reached up on tip toe and kissed him lightly on the cheek, her fingers cupping his chin as she smiled at him.
"What was that for?"
"Because," she offered with a grin, running her fingers lightly over her arm. "Sometimes you don't need a reason for doing something. Its just because." Quickly, leaving him no time to comment, she released his arm and moved away. "And now to save your blushes I'm going to make my own way back."
As he opened his mouth to argue she closed the gap between them, kissing him a second time, before walking away, a new sway in her hips.
Richard watched her go, a grin creeping over his face, knowing with certainty that leaving would never have made him happy, but the promise in a simple kiss always would.