A/N: I confess, it´s a lot of fun to have everyone guessing where the sonnets are coming from... Thanks for the reviews!
Chapter 9
September 1916
In the weeks that followed Elsie regularly found little tokens in her parlour. Sometimes they were little trinkets like chocolates or flowers and very often it were poems or sonnets. They were always cut carefully from books and always signed with the same initials: C. She was almost sure these attentions came from Charles. But the fact that he never indicated anything in person unnerved her somewhat. In the beginning she had tried to hint a little how much she enjoyed his courting, but he had just looked at her blankly and moved away. Still they kept coming and she gathered that it was probably part of his design to feign ignorance. Thrilled that he seemed to be renewing his addresses and overjoyed at the second chance she was given, she decided to play along. And one day after lunch she got the conformation that it was indeed Charles Carson who was trying to woo her – the implications of the sonnet were impossible to miss.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
no man ever loved.
C
She was on the verge of crying happy tears when she finished the sonnet for the fourth time. He still loved her after all this time. Knowing she could be disturbed any moment, she pushed back her tears and resolved to make it absolutely clear to him that this time she was very much returning his feelings.
Making her way to the ward to overlook the laundry maids as the stripped the beds and remade the beds she was surprised to find Dr Clarkson in there, talking to Dr Wellington. Apparently he was ready to leave as he was just saying: ´Good day to you, Timothy.´
´Good day Richard,´ Wellington greeted back, returning to filling out the status cards.
´Dr Clarkson seems to be visiting a lot these days,´ Elsie remarked to Isobel who was busy sorting out and winding up bandages.
´He certainly does,´ Isobel replied lightly on the account of two other nurses who were busy scrubbing bedpans. Only Elsie could see her rolling her eyes . ´I think he´s been by every single day in the past three weeks.´
´Perhaps he wants to convince you to come back to Downton hospital,´ Elsie grinned. Upon seeing the look of exasperation she couldn´t resist some more teasing. ´Perhaps he just misses you too much… it would certainly explain his frequent visits.´ She was about to say more, but then she noticed Dr Wellington had turned around and was watching them. The look on his face could only be described as murderous. He quickly got to his feet and strolled past them, while only barking a short ´Excuse me ladies, I need to step out for a bit,´ at them.
´I thought he was warming up to you a bit,´ Elsie commented after he´d gone. ´He did seem a lot friendlier to you the day you received Matthew´s letter.´
Isobel looked extremely annoyed. ´Don´t get me started,´ she grumbled angrily. Heaving a sigh she added softly, as to not be overheard by the two nurses. ´How about I´ll tell you this evening over tea?´
Nodding her agreement, Elsie noticed the tension in her voice and she worried about it. Isobel Crawley was perhaps one of the most collected, good-humoured people she knew. Apparently Dr Timothy Wellington had really gotten under her skin this time.
A little while later, after Elsie had left again to attend to some other business in the house, Isobel left the ward to retrieve some supplies from the medical store-room, inwardly still fuming about Wellington´s unpredictable behaviour. After his display of thoughtfulness after she had received Matthew´s letter she had hoped things would improve between them. But instead it seemed they had gotten worse if that was at all possible. He never outright criticised her or questioned her capabilities as a nurse. In fact, when they were working together they got along just fine. It was just his manner towards her – so frozen and distant that was getting to her. She wouldn´t have minded if he treated everyone like that, but that was just it – he was perfectly cordial towards Elsie, or Cora or Sybil or even one of the other young nurses. Only around her he turned into a bear.
Upon re-entering she could hear Bessie and Catherine – the other nurse - talking. Retreating behind the door she stopped dead in her tracks as she heard the topic of their conversation, her eyes growing large in astonishment.
´What are you thinking about Dr Wellington then?´ Bessie asked.
´Ohh…´ Catherine cooed. 'It's a shame he's so old! If only I were a bit older, or better yet, he a bit younger. I think he´s gorgeous!´
´Really?´ Bessie asked bewildered. Isobel could do little else then echo that sentiment and conclude that Catherine was indeed a very silly girl. Much sillier then Bessie, although she was a great deal older.
´Of course,´ Catherine answered. ´He´s so tall and lean and so distinguished with his grey hair. And he certainly has an heroic bone-structure.´
Isobel resisted the attempt to snort. An heroic bone-structure… of all the nonsense…
´And then his hands,´ Catherine continued dreamy. ´They must be very strong and…´ There Isobel decided she had heard quite enough.
´Girls!´ she bellowed, stepping inside the ward and seeing much to her satisfaction that the girls both jumped out of their skin. ´I am sure there are more important things to do than standing here and discussing the physical appearance of our physician. Kindly return to your duties and stop this nonsense immediately!´
Her already bad mood sank even further. Really, the idiocy of those girls. Had she ever been so shallow herself when she was that age? Certainly he was nice to look at. A lot of men his age definitely looked worse for wear. But what did it matter if his personality was that of a great ogre? Even if he was tall and lean and had dimples and steel blue eyes.
Really, Isobel Crawley, don´t you start as well, she scolded herself. He may be a good-looking man, but he treats you like a bug. And that´s all there is to it.
Elsie watched in the door opening as Charles instructed the houseboys how to knot their ties, amusement clearly written over her features. He was being utterly adorable.
´You see, you keep your index finger on the knot and then you drape this part around it… ´ he demonstrated the act with his own tie, both boys copying his movements eagerly, both of them getting their fingers hopelessly entangled in their ties.
`No… no… you need to…´ Charles attempted to unknot the piece of fabric from around the young Davy´s finger, only resulting in getting his finger even tighter stuck. ´Oh dear…´ Charles apologized in a gruff voice. `I seems I can only do my own tie.´
Deciding to step in before either Davy or Eric lost a finger Elsie stepped up and placed her hand on Charles´ shoulder, feeling him stiffen a little in surprise.
´Allow me to help,´ she said breezily and quickly freed Davy´s finger from the trap of his own tie.
´Watch closely, boys,´ she said to the lads and then turned to Charles. ´Mr Carson, allow me to demonstrate on you?´ she asked with a bit of a glint in her eye that didn´t go unnoticed.
He swallowed with some difficulty. ´Certainly, Mrs Hughes.´
Standing close to him she undid his tie. ´Well, you put your thumb on one end of the fabric and then circle the other end of it around it. Then you pull that same end through the loop and pull. Just don´t forget to move your thumb before the knot gets too tight.`
He found that feeling her breath tickle the skin of his neck was very unnerving, so he swallowed again. Goodness, she had knotted his tie rather tightly, hadn´t she?
Turning around to watch the boys as they tried again she purposely let her hand rest on his chest. After a bit Davy yelped in excitement. ´I did it!´ He received his well-deserved praise from both the butler and the housekeeper. Meanwhile poor Eric struggled along. ´I can´t get it right,´ he wailed eventually. ´Mrs Hughes, could you show me again, please?´
It was too good an opportunity to pass up. She smiled sweetly at Charles who found himself nodding, torn between alarm and anticipation. She undid his tie for the second time and showed Eric the procedure again. Only this much, much slower. The man must have an enormous lung capacity, she mused. Because he hardly drew breath the entire time.
After this rather thorough tutorial Eric managed to knot his tie as well and was duly praised for it too. Then both boys were send on their way.
Charles cleared his throat but found that his voice sounded somewhat hoarse when he spoke. ´Thank you, Elsie. You… you´ve been most helpful.´
´My pleasure, Charles,´ she answered still smiling, holding his gaze until he nervously turned away.
Sybil sighed impatiently. Given the choice she rather worked together with Bessie then with Catherine, since the latter had an unfortunate tendency to gossip viciously. And today´s topic was Isobel Crawley.
´Really, I don´t see why she has to put up all these airs and graces,´ Catherine fumed. ´She´s a nurse just like us.
´Well, she is a very experienced nurse,´ Sybil interjected. ´And I like her a lot.´
´Well, I don´t,´ Catherine said decidedly. ´I think she´s a mean, old hag!´
´Would you care to repeat that to me?´ Wellington´s voice sounded so low he was practically hissing, causing Catherine to jump for the second time that day. Turning around quickly she answered.
´I wasn´t talking about you, Dr Wellington…´
Wellington´s eyes were shooting daggers at the girl who cowered slightly. ´I ask you again, would you care to repeat what you said about Mrs Crawley to me?´ His voice had an almost venomous edge now and was slowly rising in volume.
´No sir,´ Catherine squeaked.
´Then you´ll mind to never – ever again use such words in regard to Mrs Crawley. As your senior in both rank and capability you owe her nothing but the utmost respect and if I ever hear you slander her like that again I´ll personally make sure you´ll be dismissed from your post before you can blink your eyes! Do I make myself clear?´ he thundered.
´Yes Doctor Wellington.´ Catherine quivered, tears in her eyes.
´Now get out!´
Catherine scampered away and Wellington turned to Sybil, still seething with anger. ´Has she ever caused problems for Mrs Crawley before?´ he bit.
Sybil shook her head, feeling rather terrified herself. ´No… she just likes to gossip a lot.´
´Well, be sure to notify me at once the moment that girl gives Mrs Crawley a hard time again,´ he instructed her. ´I will not stand for such behaviour.´
´Yes, doctor, I will,´ Sybil thought it wise not to refuse him anything at this point, but privately feeling he was a bit of hypocrite. If there was anyone who was giving Isobel a hard time it was him. As Dr Wellington stamped off, she wondered very much about his conflicted behaviour.
Working together on the status reports at his desk in his office that evening, Isobel decided that their strained relationship had now officially reached the point of it being frozen. The only thing that kept her from going barking mad what the thought of having tea with Elsie later, probably allowing her the opportunity to vent some of her frustration with the man sitting next to her.
´Could you pass me Mr Gaskell´s status, please?´ she asked in the politest tone she could muster.
´Certainly,´ he replied curtly, handing her the chart without even looking at her.
She felt ready to explode with fury. Inwardly counting to ten she relieved some of the anger by furiously tapping the end of her pencil on the wooden surface of the desk.
´Stop that!´ he spat.
And then she snapped. Jumping to her feet she threw the pencil on the table and fired off. ´´Pray tell, what is your problem with me?´
Ignoring his shocked expression she pushed on, finally releasing months of frustration. ´What have I ever done to you that caused you to dislike me so much? Please enlighten me, because I´m thoroughly sick of the whole house gossiping behind my back what it is about me that seems to aggravate you so much!´
He had gotten to his feet as well now, his face the usual unreadable, frosty mask. `I assure you Mrs Crawley that I do not have any negative feelings towards you…´
Isobel interrupted him with a humourless snort. ´Oh, really…, then you certainly have fooled me. Just say it! What did I ever do to you that merits such loathing?´
´I do not loath you,´ he replied tersely, his jaw tightening and his fist clenching.
Feeling oddly calm and resigned all of a sudden, Isobel bowed her head. ´Very well… we´re not getting anywhere it seems. I´ll ask Dr Clarkson if I can return to Downton hospital. I will make the arrangements as soon as possible.´
´You cannot do that!´ Wellington replied, displaying his own anger now.
Isobel looked him square in the eye and stood as tall as she could. ´I can and I will. You seem unable to control your feelings towards me, so that leaves me with little other option that to leave.´
He turned deathly pale at her words. ´How dare you…´ his growled hoarsely. ´You have no idea about the self-control it has cost me…´
´Self-control?´ she exclaimed in a disbelieving voice. ´Based on your actions in the past months I can only conclude you have very little of that…´
The next moment Isobel found herself pinned between the wall and his body, his mouth covering hers. His hands gripped her waist tightly, lifting her and pulling her flat against his body. His lips moved over hers, searching, demanding and when she gasped in surprise he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The taste of him send all her rational thoughts packing. She found herself responding, her lips softening under his and moving in rhythm with his. Her hands that had been on his shoulders now slipped around his neck and in the collar of his jacket. He loosened his death grip on her waist somewhat, one hand rubbing its way up over her back and tangling itself in her hair. He was the first to break away from her lips, but only to place soft kisses on her cheeks an chin.
If his kiss had left her breathless and made her toes curl, it was nothing to the sensation that swept through her when he breathed her name against her skin. There was such a desire and longing in his voice that she was sure her knees would have given out if she hadn´t clung to him in the way she did.
He claimed her lips in a kiss again, less demanding this time but equally deep and passionate. This time it was her who pulled back. Caused by the almighty sound of clattering crockery and a yelp of surprise.
Standing in the doorway stood Elsie, wearing a look of total shock and standing in the middle of what two seconds ago had been a teapot.
´S-sorry… forgive me,´ Wellington stammered. He couldn´t have looked more in shock if he had just murdered someone. Too dazed to come up with any coherent thought, let alone a reply, Isobel watched him exit the office.
´What the blazes is happening here?´ Elsie demanded, her Scottish accent more apparent than ever.
Isobel felt her mouth really wasn´t ready to start talking just yet, but eventually she managed. ´I think tea is very much in order, Elsie.´
A/N: and today Elsie was given sonnet 116
