Within the confines of his arms Isobel finally started to relax. It had been such an appalling dinner. All she could think of was Matthew. That night that Matthew had stood up tall in Tom Branson's defense and of how he wanted him as his best man. Such an ugly event had sparked something wonderful. Overtime only the memory of the good of that night had been remembered. Tonight had unlocked the ugliness, that with the new vitriol that had aimed at her made her sick. The pressure of Richard's arms tightened minutely and she asked, "What is it?"

Richard laughed,"I was just thinking of Old Lady Grantham, what she would make of all this, perhaps she'll trip him with her cane?"

Isobel returned his laugh, "Cousin Violet is not so obvious. If something were to happen it would take us awhile to know it was her." Isobel then tilted her head, "What about you?"

Richard reached out and brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes, "I would defend your honor in a heartbeat. However, I don't think you want that and I won't do what you don't want."

Isobel swallowed, part of her wanted Larry squashed but she knew that with Richard's position he couldn't demand a set of dueling pistols. She thought of how Spratt of all people had ignored him. If Spratt could ignore Richard's presence then Larry Merton and his ilk could probably do worse than slip something in a drink and get away with it! Just thinking about the situation made her tired. She rested her head against Richard's chest letting the steady rhythm of his heart steady her. She felt a weight across her back and shoulders, it was his arms holding her close.

He moved forward and she moved back, when she felt the backs of her legs against the chair she sank into it. The tumbler was then placed back into her hands, the fire was crackling and a pleasing warmth was emanating from it. She watched as Richard knelt before the fire, he moved the screen before throwing on another piece of wood. It was then that she noticed that there were two baskets of wood by the fire. Large pieces on the left and smaller pieces on the right. It was from the right hand side that Richard had grabbed a piece.

Isobel hummed softly, "cold?"

"It's juniper" Was all he said before the piece was consumed by the fire.

His remark was puzzling to her. After a few minutes the cottage began to fill with a calming scent.

The fire, whisky and this new fragrance had her eyelids drooping. If she wasn't careful she was likely to fall asleep here in the good doctor's chair. At this moment though she didn't care and she did fall asleep. Her slumber was interrupted by Richard waking her up with his fingertips caressing her cheeks.

"Come on" he said softly. He held out his hand and she took it. He led her into his bedroom and stood behind her. While he was a surgeon some of the clasps and hooks of her jewelry had him fumbling. She stood calmly while he placed her items amongst his ontop of his small dresser. A clothes hanger appeared and her gown was soon beside his suit jackets. When she had been married to Reginald their clothes had never mingled. It had been separate wardrobes for both of them. It was such a small thing, a simple thing, for her dress to be near his suits yet it felt powerful. When the bed was turned down Isobel felt a pang of hesitation after the nightmare dinner and emotional drainage that followed she was in no mood to make love. Instantly Richard was beside her, "I'll wait."

The awkwardness was over, together they arranged themselves in Richard's small bed. It wasn't until his hand began making patterns on her shoulder that she felt that she was truly home.

While romantic in nature sharing a small bed came with some difficulty. It was early in the morning when Isobel accidentally elbowed Richard in the side.

His sharp grunt had awoken Isobel. The clock on the bedside table showed the hour was just past four. Knowing that he probably wouldn't be going back to sleep he sat up, "I should probably get up."

At this Isobel felt sad, here she was forcing him out of his own bed! Linking her hands around his neck she pulled him down for a kiss. Her skin was warm from sleep and his will was weak. Holding her to him he rolled her beneath him. Isobel gasped as his lips found her neck, she then sighed as she felt him harden against her thigh. Soon sighs and gasps were all that were heard.

When she woke again she found Richard had gone. She found her dress and put it on. With her coat buttoned over it only a black hem peeked out no one would know she was wearing an evening gown.

After bathing and changing she found herself in the garden. With shears in hand she began deadheading flowers. She had been for a good portion of the day when the first delivery arrived. Flowers, blooms of every color seemed to be vying for her attention. Cards of apology from Dickie.

A quick look at the card showed that the flowers had been delivered from London. With the wedding of Lady Rose and Atticus Aldridge announced it would be sometime before she could meet with Dickie and affirm that she would not be marrying him.

Why did weddings bring forth such dramatics in the Crawley family? Edith had been jilted, Sybil had caused a scandal, even Mary and Matthew's wedding had nearly ended before it began! Now poor Rose! Those disgusting pictures. Then at the last possible moment the announcement from Lady Flintshire with the news of impending divorce. Isobel shuddered in remembrance of it, of how Lady Flintshire's eyes nearly gleamed with pleasure as she voice rose high in the hall. A glass appeared in front of her on a tray and voice said softly, "You look as if you need one."

Cousin Violet had spoken and gestured to the glass on the tray which Isobel took gratefully.

"Eventful day." Isobel murmured taking a sip.

"Dreadfully sorry for that." Violet said flatly.

Isobel hid her smile by taking another sip, she knew damn well that Isobel was not apologizing for this situation. Rose navigated the room with ease as she went to each guest. Her smile was bright and she let Rose's happiness spill over to herself. Tomorrow the two young lovers would begin their honeymoon and the rest of the families would return to their respective homes.

Home Isobel thought. Richard is my home.

The day for the unveiling had come. Isobel could not sit next to Richard, as a matter of fact he didn't sit- he stood. On the dais stood Lord Grantham and another officer in Army Uniform. There were a few in uniform but most of those gathered were in civilian dress. Doctor Clarkson was wearing a suit with his medals pinned to his chest. The tie Isobel had bought for him in London complimented the colors of his medal ribbons. He stood tall amongst the men around him. You didn't need the medals to identify which men had been in the military. The rapt posture of being attention seemed to be ingrained in those who had served. Even the soldier who had been injured sat taller in their chairs. Isobel was pleased to see all those who had gathered. Some had been soldiers and some not yet all were here for this solemn occasion.

Isobel took her attention off of her lover and turned her attention back to the memorial. Downton had not been one of the blessed villages, only a handful had seen none of the their members killed by the Great War. Matthew's name wasn't on that large piece of stone. However, there was another piece of stone in this village that did bear his name and at least she knew where he was buried. As the bugle played she thought of the other mothers that couldn't weep over their sons or husbands graves she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions in check. As the bugle stopped and the monument was revealed she felt comforted that now those mothers and wives who couldn't do what she could with her son and husband could now touch their name in reverence.