"I truly appreciate your arranging all of this," Dickie Merton said, sitting down across from Violet that afternoon.

"I felt this might be a fairly neutral meeting ground, rather than back at Downton."

"After Larry's rude display, you are quite right," Lord Merton acknowledged, looking down in disappointment.

"But you've spoken with Larry? And he has come 'round?"

"I wouldn't say that…not yet anyway. But Timothy has been willing to listen. He even expressed interest in hearing more about Mrs. Crawley's time as a Nurse during the War. I think he agreed she is much more than what Larry suggested."

Spratt entered quickly. "Mrs. Crawley, your Ladyship."

Lord Merton stood immediately, Violet following suit as Isobel entered. Isobel's eyes widened as she stood shocked in the middle of the room.

"Lord Merton…"

"Isobel…please…do come sit," he pleaded.

Violet had to give Lord Merton credit for realizing there was most definitely something wrong with Isobel Crawley. Most men would have seen right past it.

"Indeed Isobel, please sit. You look awfully tired," she said quietly.

But Isobel remained standing in front of the pair, her eyes creasing in confusion and sadness. Violet worried as Isobel seemed to waver slightly, the dark circles under her eyes prevalent. Clearly she was not well, and Violet almost wished she hadn't insisted Isobel come. But it was done now, and both Isobel and Lord Merton were in the same room. It was time to put an end to their suffering, no matter which way things turned out. Violet believed it was better to have a conclusion rather than leave the question up in the air.

Stepping forward, she guided Isobel to the settee. She knew the woman was uncomfortable but she was engaged to the man. Dickie waited until Violet had taken her chair before cautiously sitting beside Isobel. Isobel looked down, unable to meet Dickie's concerned gaze.

"I've brought you both here because this business that Larry brought up at the dinner needs to be put to an end."

Isobel looked across to meet Violet's eyes, the thin line of her lips conveying her unease. Dickie cleared his throat and looked back and forth between the women.

"I thank you, Lady Grantham. You are right, of course. We should put an end to the elephant in the room."

Isobel looked down at her hands, twisting her gloves tightly in anxiety. Violet felt as though she should leave the two of them but moving in this moment would break the atmosphere. But as Isobel remained silent, she decided it might be for the best.

"I'll go see to the tea service. Take all the time you need."

She left the room quietly and shushed Spratt as he sprang forward in the hall. "Leave them for a few moments. I'll go see to the how the tea service is coming along."

Spratt nodded and moved back to his spot by the doorway. Violet prayed that when she came back, some sort of decision would be made. She feared her own emotions could not handle the stress much longer.

As the door shut behind Violet Crawley, Lord Merton chanced moving a bit closer to Isobel on the settee. She had taken to staring at the gloves balled in her hands and jumped slightly as his hand came to cover hers.

"I've spoken with Larry and Timothy, Isobel. I cannot guarantee that Larry will come around, but Timothy has asked to meet you once more. He would like to hear about your time as a Nurse….the medical profession does interest him as well. I guess that is one quality he takes from me."

Isobel cautioned a glance at her fiancée and smiled weakly.

"I suppose…."

"Please…let me finish. I want you to know that none of what Larry spoke changes my feelings for you. I do not want that to put a barrier up between us. Isobel, I still wish to get married….if you will agree. Please…"

She looked up at him, her eyes misty over his kind words. "I appreciate your telling me about Timothy. It would be nice to speak with him again. But, I'm sorry…I simply cannot allow you to marry a woman beneath what you deserve."

"But…"

"No, it's the truth. Larry was right. There is a great disparity between the lives you and I are accustomed to. I would never be able to fill their mother's shoes…not in the least. I have never given a grand dinner party nor hosted a benefit concert or fundraiser. Those are all things that the woman you marry should be able to take care of…to alleviate your worry over such details. And I would never be able…"

"Of course you would! Isobel, you underestimate your abilities. While there may be a time of learning, I have no doubt that you will flourish with any party or event we should host."

"But what would your friends and colleagues think of your marrying a widowed middle class nurse? I do not have any money to speak of, no land….I am nothing…."

"Isobel! Stop!"

Shocked, Isobel sucked in a breath as Dickie Merton stood before her, his fingers clenched into fists at his side.

"I will not allow you to speak so lowly of yourself. You are a confident, capable woman whom I know has more abilities in one finger than both of my sons have in their entire bodies. You cannot allow what Larry has said to change that. That is all that matters to me…not some party, some event, or some bloody diplomat's opinion!"

Tears sprang to Isobel's eyes, and she quickly looked away. Dickie's frustration dissipated immediately upon seeing her so upset. Moving to stand beside her, he leaned down and took one of her hands in his.

"I am sorry…I don't know what came over me. Isobel, I do not wish to hurt you…only to let you know how much I do care for you and want to continue our lives together. Please do not let my sons ruin that chance."

Isobel shook her head, trying desperately to keep the tears from falling. She did not dare look at him for she knew it would be her undoing.

"I will not allow a rift to come between you and your children. Losing a child is more than any mother or father should have to bear."

Sitting beside her once more, Dickie sighed. "I lost them years ago. I don't know that we ever had a true relationship. But that is my own fault, not yours. And it should not be your problem to fix but is mine and mine alone. I will take it on gladly…if you can promise me that it will not be the deciding factor in our relationship."

"But Larry and Timothy have rights as your sons…surely it would not do them well to have a father that is married to a simple nurse. Their own careers might suffer….the press would surely…"

Gathering all the courage he had, Dickie reached over and turned Isobel's face towards his. A bit taken back, her words faltered as he stared directly in to her eyes. She blinked quickly, uneasy at his serious look of intent.

"Dickie…please…you must let me…."

And suddenly, his lips were on hers. His hand reached behind her neck to pull her close, his other gripping her fingers tight. He could not help himself….he needed to show her just how much he cared. It was their first kiss, but he feared it may be their last.

It was not until he felt the muscles in her neck relax under his hold that he broke their embrace. He left go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her, letting out a shaky breath as her forehead cautiously lay against his shoulder.

"Don't make me let you go, Isobel. You make me feel alive…something I haven't felt in over thirty years."

She remained silent, her breath hitching in her throat and cutting off her words. What on Earth was she to do? As a mother, it went against every fiber of her being to marry a man whose sons despised her and would resent their father. But as a modern woman, she praised people like Tom and Sybil who broke the mold and married for love rather than propriety.

Now, faced with this same situation, what could she possibly do? Would her decision be the right one or would it end in suffering?

Dickie tightened his arms around her, pulling her even closer in to his chest. Her arms lay at her side, but suddenly, they found a life of their own and wrapped around Dickie's back. What was happening? She couldn't control her emotions and now, she couldn't control her physical self? This made absolutely no logical sense to her. She couldn't determine what could cause such reactions…

"I love you, Isobel Crawley."

The whispered declaration from her fiancée struck a chord and immediately, Isobel knew. She was in love…her logical side was telling her to stay away but her emotional side was screaming the truth loud and clear.

She pulled back slightly, enough that she could look at up him and offer a small smile. "The feeling is mutual, Lord Merton."

His eyes widened and his face dropped in shock, though quickly replaced by a large grin. "Does this mean…will you…will you still marry me?"

She nodded, biting her bottom lip and looking down. He gathered her in a fierce embrace and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Oh Isobel…you have made me so happy. I thought I was going to lose you."

She smiled in to his shoulder and allowed herself a moment of joy for the first time since the dreadful dinner at Downton.

"You won't lose me," she whispered, "not yet anyway."

Laughing out loud, he pulled back and put a hand to her cheek. "Good. I wouldn't want you to think it was that easy to get rid of me."

Her smile grew as he leaned forward and captured her lips once more. The door opened and they both jumped back, though Dickie kept Isobel's hand tightly clasped in his. Violet entered and smiled at the wide-eyed couple sitting on her settee.

"Well, it seems the Spratt was right. The laughter he heard must signify a happy ending?"

She saw the pair's hands clasped together and smirked. She knew Isobel loved the man…even if she would never admit it to the Dowager.

Dickie cleared his throat and stole a glance at Isobel. She looked down to hide her own grin as he regarded the Dowager once more. "Well, at least it is the start to one."

Violet stood straight and placed both hands on the top of her walking stick. "Well, I'm glad you have both come to your senses. Now, how about we have some tea and can start discussing preparations."

Dickie stood and helping his fiancée to stand, smiled genuinely to Violet Crawley. "Thank you, Violet. We will forever be in your debt for arranging this."

Isobel also smiled, though Violet noticed how she held tight to Dickie's arm…and it seemed it was not just out of joy over their pending nuptials. Violet's grin faded as she noticed Isobel's face fall and its color turn white as Dickie led her over to the table. He helped Violet to sit after getting Isobel settled but also took note of Isobel's quiet demeanor when he sat across from her.

Violet cast him a questioning look and nodded over to Isobel who had busied herself with a napkin. Dickie studied Isobel's face and wondered just what was going on beneath her strong façade.

"Have you thought of a date?" Violet asked calmly, pouring the tea while keeping one eye on Isobel.

"No, we have not. I was thinking perhaps after the holiday. That way most everyone should be back from their travels to attend. What do you think, Isobel?" Dickie asked, accepting a tea cup from Violet.

When Isobel remained silent, Violet set the tea pot down and looked to Dickie. His face clearly conveyed the worry he had for Isobel. Before he could stand, Violet held a hand up to stop him. Turning back to the woman beside her, Violet reached over to touch Isobel's arm.

"Isobel?"

Something in Isobel snapped, and she turned quickly to look at Violet, her eyes wide and glistening with tears.

"I'm sorry. I must have been off in dream land. What were you saying?"

"Isobel, you don't look well at all. Have you seen the doctor?" Violet asked with concern evident in her soft tone.

"Oh…I'm fine. Just a bit overwhelmed I suppose..." she replied, offering Dickie a smile. Though with the way Dickie was looking at her, she feared her walls were beginning to crack.

"What is wrong, Isobel? Are you still concerned about the boys?" Dickie asked.

"No…well, of course I'm concerned about them. But you've assured me we can work through it, and that's confidence enough for me."

She tried to smile again, but the pain in her head was excruciating. The headache had been growing worse over the past week. She had tried headache powders, sleeping more, specially brewed herbal teas…but nothing had worked. Mrs. Field had offered to send for Dr. Clarkson, but Isobel supposed it was simply from the stress over the situation with Dickie. Hoping their renewed commitment to each other would help, she tried to wave away the concern of her fiancée and cousin.

Dickie cautiously stood and came to stand beside her. She looked up at him curiously. "Dickie...?"

"Isobel please let me ring for the doctor."

"My dear, Lord Merton is right. It won't do well to disagree," Violet added.

"Goodness, do I look that terrible?" Isobel replied with a small chuckle. But when Violet and Dickie did not join her in laughter, her smile broke. She drew in a sharp breath as she felt the tears begin to well, and the pain begin to grow worse. She did not want to cry in front of them. But the burden of how poorly she felt was wearing her down, and she feared she could not hold in her anguish much longer.

She pressed her fingers to the middle of her forehead as Dickie gently laid a hand on her shoulder. He looked to Violet who had already started towards the door.

"I'll have Spratt ring for Dr. Clarkson. Lord Merton, why don't you help Isobel up to the guest room? I will have tea and water sent up."

"Thank you," Dickie said, reaching his other hand down to wrap around Isobel's shoulders. "Come Isobel, let's get you upstairs."

"But…" She tried to protest but Dickie simply squeezed her shoulder and pulled her up to stand. The room began to spin and the light suddenly seemed to burst in front of her. Hissing in pain, she fumbled to gain her bearings and fell in to Dickie's chest.

"Isobel, what is it? What's wrong?" He held her close and allowed her to collect her breath before he leaned down to look her in the eye. "Isobel?"

He gently lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. They were blood shot and struggling to stay open against the harsh light of the afternoon.

"Please tell me what's wrong," he whispered, rubbing his thumb along her chin.

"It's…" She looked down as the pain struck in her neck and radiated down her back once more. She pressed her lips and eyes closed, grasping the lapels of his jacket tight to remain standing.

"Pain…dizziness…you must tell me, Isobel. The doctor will need to know," he pleaded.

"This headache…it's been getting worse," she answered softly, the pain weakening a bit to allow her head to lift once again. He pulled her closer to his chest and slowly turned her towards the door.

"We must get you upstairs to lie down. Doctor Clarkson will know what to do for the pain, all right? You just hold tight to me…we don't want to add any broken bones to his diagnosis."

Isobel smiled weakly, knowing how worried Dickie was but grateful that he was keeping his wits about him now. She, the stalwart nurse, was fumbling to remain upright while the aristocratic Lord was the picture of medical perfection. In this moment, she was appreciative of his interest in both her and the medical field. Perhaps she had finally met someone who was her equal in all ways; much like Reginald had been so many years before.

Upon reaching the door leading to the hallway, Violet met them with a maid in tow.

"Dr. Clarkson is on his way. It should not be long now. Elizabeth will take care of things in the room."

"I know it is not at all proper, but I think it best that I get her upstairs. I'm afraid Isobel is feeling a bit off balance just now."

Violet nodded, knowing this was one time where propriety could be thrown to the wind. "Of course. Elizabeth, lead the way dear."

The young maid hurried up the stairs as Violet followed, looking behind with every other step to make sure the couple behind her was still following. She worried at how quickly Isobel's guard had let down to show them just how ill she was. Dr. Clarkson had not seemed very concerned, but to see the formidable Isobel Crawley in such a state sent the Dowager Countess reeling.

She shook off her worry and focused on taking care of her cousin as best she could. Elizabeth had already turned down the bed and set the tea tray on the side table. Violet motioned for Dickie to sit Isobel on the bed and dismissed Elizabeth to await Dr. Clarkson on the first floor.

"Really, I will be all right. I don't need…"

"Isobel Crawley, you will stay in this bed until Dr. Clarkson has cleared you to travel back to Crawley House. I daresay you would never make it on your own. And until you can walk without aid, I expect you to stay here in this room and rest!"

Dickie's eyebrows rose and a small grin graced his face as he looked between Violet and Isobel, both whose expressions had turned in to serious glares. Violet banged her cane on the floor, causing Isobel's head to burst in pain. She quickly closed her eyes, one hand coming to her temple and the other to her stomach as queasiness almost overwhelmed her.

Quickly, Dickie leaned down and put both of his hands on Isobel's shoulders. "Isobel….Isobel what is it?"

He looked back at Violet when his fiancée did not move or answer. Violet stood shell-shocked, unaware that a simple bang of a cane could cause such an extreme adverse reaction. Isobel's breaths began to quicken as she moved one hand from her stomach to grasp Dickie's arm. She gripped his arm tight as the pain intensified, leaning forward to place her forehead on his other arm.

He stood helpless, his fiancée leaning heavily on his arm, and was at a loss of what he could do to help her. He looked to Violet whose eyes were also wide with confusion and fear over what to do for Isobel. The door opened and another maid entered with water and tea. Violet hushed the young girl and hurried her over to the side of the room to set the tray down.

"Send Dr. Clarkson up immediately when he arrives. I am going to wait here with Mrs. Crawley and Lord Merton."

"Yes milady," the young girl said, curtseying and rushing out the door. Dickie had taken a seat next to Isobel on the bed, putting a protective arm around her and pulling her in to his side. She buried her face in his neck and clung tight to his hand with both of hers.

"Violet, has this ever happened before?" he asked in a whisper.

Violet simply shook her head, finding she had lost her voice due to this shocking situation. She shakily sat down in the chair beside the bed, reaching over to pat Isobel's arm.

"It will be all right, dear. Dr. Clarkson will take care of everything."

Isobel did not acknowledge Violet's words except for a small squeeze to Dickie's hand. He sighed and rubbed his hand over her back gently but cautiously. He wished he could fix all of her hurt and pain right now, but inklings of his aristocratic upbringing limited the scope of his ability to properly comfort someone in this type of situation. Had it been the reverse, he had no doubt Isobel would be the apt nursemaid to him with loving words, comforting touches and healing hands.

"Isobel…might there be anything we can get for you? Are you thirsty?"

He pulled her a bit closer, trying to convey how much he worried for her.

"No…no," she whispered, her voice broken due to the increasing pain in her neck and head. It was all she could do to not give in to the exhaustion and nausea. Something was wrong….but she could hardly focus on staying upright, let alone come to any conclusion as to this mysteriously lengthy and difficult headache.

"Lady Grantham," Dr. Clarkson announced his presence and quickly surveyed the scene. Violet stood while Lord Merton nodded to the Doctor, though he chose not to stand due to Isobel's hold on him. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Mrs. Crawley has seemed quite ill since arriving. Her maid said earlier that she has been under the weather this week, but we did not realize how much so until this afternoon," Violet answered, motioning towards the woman in obvious pain beside Lord Merton.

"Well, let's see what the trouble is, shall we?" Dr. Clarkson asked kindly, setting his bag on the table beside the bed and turning towards Lord Merton.

"How may I help?" Dickie asked quietly, afraid to move for fear it would cause Isobel more pain.

Dr. Clarkson smiled at the other gentleman, keenly aware of how nervous the Baron seemed. "Why don't we help Mrs. Crawley lie down? She might be more comfortable that way and it will allow me to examine her."

"Of course. Isobel…" Dickie pulled away from Isobel slightly so that he could stand. His movement allowed light in to her eyes which she flinched at, quickly moving a hand to cover her eyes. Dickie stood and Dr. Clarkson stepped forward, both men guiding Isobel to lie down on the bed. Violet stayed back, sitting back in the chair and nervously clutching her walking stick.

"What do you think, Doctor?" she asked after the physician began his examination. He had tried to ask Isobel questions, but she simply had not been able to push past the pain to answer fully. He took out a small vial of medication and had moved to the far side of the room to mix a powder in a glass of water.

"She is suffering from what we call a migraine…an extremely severe headache. Normal powders will not alleviate the pain, especially if it is not taken care of immediately. This should help take care of the pain and help her sleep for a few hours."

"Do you know what caused it?" Dickie asked from his place beside Violet. His eyes never left Isobel who still held one hand over her eyes and gripped the blanket she was covered with.

"Unfortunately, there are multiple causes for these types of headaches. Though I've never know Mrs. Crawley to suffer from them. Has she been under any increased stress lately?"

Dickie looked down in shame, his hands coming to rest on his hips. Violet smiled sympathetically at him and turned to Dr. Clarkson.

"There have been a few events that have caused Mrs. Crawley a bit of concern the past few weeks. But, after this afternoon, those concerns have been taken care of."

The doctor raised his eyebrows and caught Violet's head nod towards Lord Merton. Understanding this inference, he nodded and moved over to Isobel's bedside.

"Mrs. Crawley, let's have you drink this shall we? It will help," he said softly, helping to raise her head so she could sip the water. He did not miss the small whimper that emanated from the woman as he held her neck up. He helped her lie back and then turned to Lord Merton and Violet.

"I think it best that she rest for the remainder of the day. I would not move her, if at all possible. She should sleep for a few hours. When she wakes, it should be safe to take her back to Crawley House to rest. I can write instructions for her staff. She should stay in bed tomorrow to rest if the migraine has truly lasted for the past week."

"Right…should someone remain with her…in case she should get worse throughout the night?" Dickie asked, his eyes focused on Isobel's small form on the bed.

"It might be for the best. I can have one of the nurses from the hospital check in on her," Dr. Clarkson offered. Violet held up her hand before the gentlemen could continue with their discussion.

"There will be no need for that. I will ring over and have her maid prepare a bag and bring it for this evening. She can stay here."

The men both seemed a bit surprised but nodded in agreement.

"That is very generous, Lady Grantham," Dr. Clarkson replied.

"Indeed. Thank you ever so much," Dickie added.

"Call it returning a favor," Violet said quietly, walking past the men to head out the door and ring Crawley House. She stopped before leaving and reached down to gently squeeze Isobel's hand. "Rest easy, Isobel. We'll have you better in no time."

Isobel's eyes remained shut but she responded in thanks by squeezing Violet's hand back. The elder Crawley patted Isobel's shoulder before determinedly walking out the door towards the phone. Dr. Clarkson gathered a few more items out of his bag and motioned for Lord Merton to join him on the far side of the room. He gave Dickie instructions as to when to give Isobel another powder, should the pain continue.

"Do you feel it may get worse?" Dickie asked, looking back towards Isobel.

"I hope not. Typically migraines will lose their intensity once these powders are administered. With Mrs. Crawley being as strong as she is, I have no reason to believe this will keep her down for long."

Dickie breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the doctor. "You have given me a great deal of hope, Doctor. Thank you for that."

"Of course. And do not hesitate to call should you have any further questions or if something seems out of the ordinary."

He closed his bag and turned to shake Dickie's hand. "Mrs. Crawley is indeed lucky to have someone care so much for her. She does deserve it, you know."

Dickie looked down as a bit of pink tinged his cheeks. "Thank you, Dr. Clarkson. I only hope I can make her as happy as she's made me."

"I'm sure you will. Now, I will bid you a good afternoon."

Dickie nodded to the doctor who moved over and patted Isobel's shoulder. "Do rest, Mrs. Crawley. I expect you at the clinic next week, hm?"

Isobel smiled weakly, her eyes remaining closed and nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Clarkson."

As the doctor left the room and shut the door behind him, Dickie timidly walked over to the bed and sat beside Isobel. Reaching over, he took her hand between both of his and rubbed it slowly to help warm her freezing fingers.

"Is there anything I can get you, Isobel?"

Cautiously, she allowed her eyes to flutter open. Squinting, she looked up and reached her free hand up to brush her fingers down his cheek. "No…having you here is more than enough."

He smiled wide and took that hand in his as well. Pulling both of her hands up, he gently pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles before tucking her arms in beneath the large blanket.

"Sleep now," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up."

As he did not hear footsteps coming close, he gently touched his lips to hers. He allowed their kiss to linger for a moment before sitting up and brushing a few stray hairs off her forehead.

The door opened a moment later as Violet re-entered, a maid in tow.

"How is she?" she whispered to Lord Merton, noticing how Isobel seemed to have calmed.

"She just fell asleep. The doctor feels the powder will help bring her through the worst of it."

He stood and took Violet by the arm to lead her away from Isobel, hoping not to wake her.

"I cannot thank you enough for allowing her to stay here, Violet. I know I said it before, but it truly comforts me to know she is not going to be alone in Crawley House tonight."

Violet smirked and looked over to analyze Isobel. The woman, though asleep, still looked pained in expression. She worried that her friend, her cousin, her confidant was suffering from more than this migraine.

"No need for that. I cannot claim to know how to nurse her back to health. But I can make sure she has round the clock care. Bethany will stay with her until this evening when one of the other maids will take over. I'm sure you would like to stay?"

Dickie looked down, a bit bashful. "Yes…that is, if it will not be a hindrance to you or your staff. I would like to be here when she wakes, if only to let her know she is safe and being cared for."

"Of course. Stay for dinner. We won't change…and I will tell Spratt to have another place set."

"Are you not expected at Downton?"

"Not tonight. They're expecting me this weekend when Rosamund comes. We will eat late, to give you a bit more time with Isobel, if you wish."

"You are quite generous, Violet," Dickie admonished.

"My, I've heard that more this afternoon than over the past ten years. I would hate to lose the reputation of being hard to win over."

Dickie laughed softly and bowed to her. "I will not give away your true colors, Violet."

The two sat beside Isobel's bedside for the next few hours, speaking quietly about the woman lying in front of them…and both inwardly praying this headache was nothing more than the last and final remnant of the turmoil begun by the Grey sons.