Hey there! I'm back! Same old story everytime, huh?
I'm really sorry to leave you hanging there but there are so many things going on in my life right now that it's difficult to find a little bit of time to relax and write. This fic has been going on for almost 5 years now, can you believe it? Mostly due to my laziness haha.
There are only two more chapters left, so I'll try to wrap it all up nicely, although my writing skills are a bit rusty, hehe.
I'm really glad to those of you that keep following me, you bring me such joy!
Enjoy the reading!
Chapter Twenty – Eight: Progress
Isobel kept staring at him without realizing her mouth was hanging open, her eyes boring hard into his.
A few seconds had passed since he had uttered the infamous sentence, and it still echoed in the air around them.
When do you plan on making an honest man out of me?
Why did she appear so shocked? Hadn't he made his intentions clear enough during these months? Feeling himself grow increasingly restless, Richard broke into a laugh, trying to soften the mood. "I didn't mean it seriously, Isobel," he said the first thing that came to his mind, feigning lightheartedness.
She closed her mouth slowly, trying hard not to look disappointed. "Did you?" she half smiled, but it felt strained. He detected relief in her voice and his heart broke just a little.
"Of course. I was just teasing you." She bit her lip and looked at George, sleeping in her arms and completely oblivious to their whole exchange.
Oh, so he was just teasing. The first thing she felt upon hearing his words had been shock and surprise. Was he talking seriously? She hadn't been expecting this at all. And when he revealed that he wasn't in fact serious, she felt her heart drop in disappointment. She had never before thought of a future with him – after Matthew's death everything seemed pointless, but he had made her see light again, he made her hope. And now that he mentioned it, yes, she saw her future with Richard in it. But he evidently didn't.
He cleared his throat, hiding his disappointment and discomfort. He realized he had took a step too far by asking her to marry him. Well, it wasn't as if he had properly asked her, was it? But the sentiment was there. Oh, he had messed things up quite spectacularly.
"Shall I visit George, then?" Richard asked hesitantly, at a loss of what to do.
She looked at him for just an instant before nodding silently. She gently kissed George's forehead, rubbing her nose in his hair to wake him.
"Hi Georgie," she spoke softly to him while he yawned widely and gurgled. "Now let's get you ready for your check-up, shall we?"
. . .
"Here is tea!" Mrs Patmore announced herself gleefully, while entering the housekeeper's parlor.
"Oh, Beryl, you're my savior!" Elsie exclaimed, relieved to get the chance for a break.
"You're very welcome," the cook replied, setting the tray on the table and reading the cups.
"I also made sure Daisy spared a little bit of shortbread for you. I know you like it."
"My, what did I do to deserve such a treat? Or is it a bribe on your part, Beryl Patmore?"
"Depends on how you look at it," the red haired woman stated, nonplussed.
Elsie rolled her eyes. "Come on, spit it out."
It seemed like Beryl had been just waiting for that. "Well, let's just say things aren't quite right between Mr Carson and yourself…"
"What do you mean things aren't quite right?"
"Don't play daft with me, Elsie Hughes. I mean, we all know that you and Mr Carson have been pining for each other for ages, but he know looks at you all lovey-dovey…"
"Lovey-dovey?" Elsie bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was difficult to imagine Charles looking at her like a lovesick puppy without bursting into a laugh.
Beryl stared daggers at her from behind her cup, before taking a sip.
"Oh, alright, alright, you old bat. Yes, we made progress with our relationship," she admitted, feeling she was being unfair to her friend of many years. Even if their relationship hadn't always been idyllic, they had always been there for each other. She knew she could count on the cook.
"Is this progress of the physical kind? Because if not I don't want to hear it."
"Honestly, Beryl, don't be vulgar."
"Well, don't tell me you look at each other in the eyes all the time because I don't believe it even for a second."
"Never mind what we do in our time together," Elsie said briskly, before her expression softened into a smile. "I… We settled our differences and… well, he's a lovely man."
"He sure is," Beryl agreed in all seriousness.
"I knew he was a good man, honest and kind, but I never thought he could be so… loving."
When Beryl kept silent and stared at her patiently waiting for her to continue, which was totally unlike her, Elsie went on, "I also… I wanted to apologize to you."
"Whatever for?" came the cook's surprised question.
"I didn't exactly treat you right a few days ago. I was still a bit dazed after what had happened with Charles and I didn't quite know how to act so I took it out on you unfairly and…"
"So something has indeed happened with Charles!" exclaimed her friend, not caring for her apology in the least. "I knew old Charlie boy would not let me down!"
"Honestly, Beryl, will you ever change?"
"Well I would, but I guess it's a bit too late now."
Elsie broke into a sincere smile before adding, "And I hope you never will." She took Beryl's hand and cradled it in her lap fondly.
"Have you thought about what to say to the family?" questioned the cook all of a sudden, while Elsie was taking a sip of tea, making her cough.
The inquiry took the housekeeper aback. "We haven't, actually."
"Did you not discuss retirement? Marriage?"
"Why would we ever want to retire?"
"Well, it's what is expected of married couples in service."
"Anna and Mr Bates are married," debated Elsie.
"But they are not the butler and housekeeper of Downton Abbey, are they?"
"No, they're not. But times are changing. Besides, we met one of Mr Carson's colleagues in York, Mr Reed, who works as butler at Snilesworth Lodge and is now married to the housekeeper," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Anyway," she added after a short moment's silence. "I do not presume he would want to marry me."
"What?" exclaimed Beryl, "And what would you want to do? Live in sin? You're both far too old for that," she laughed.
"Thank you for reminding me."
"You're welcome. Elsie, I'm telling you for your own good. You should talk to him about it, see what he thinks. If you want to keep this relationship going, sooner or later you'll have to tell Lord Grantham."
"Yes, you're right. But suppose he doesn't want to settle with me? I mean he has lived many years on his own, independently, he doesn't want to be stuck with me."
"Are we talking about the same person? What makes you think that Charles Carson would not want to make an honest woman out of you?"
"I don't know. I'm being realist."
"Well then, be a realist for real. Ask him."
Elsie nodded her agreement. "Yes. I will."
. . .
Richard didn't know how they ended up there, in his bed, naked as the day they were born.
He laid next to Isobel, his head cushioned on her breast while her hand played with his hair.
After checking on her grandson at Downton he had asked her to meet him at his house for dinner - he thought of it as a way to make it up for his spectacular mess-up. Not that she knew that he had made a mess of things, or that he actually wanted to marry her but had been too much of an idiot to ask her properly. So he had made up his mind and told himself he would ask her after dinner, in the privacy of his own home, where they could be alone without the butler bustling around in the hallway or the cook busing herself in the kitchen.
But things hadn't quite gone his way, it seemed like she had other plans.
He wasn't quite sure whether it was her fault or his that they had ended up tangled in bed, but he was completely certain that he was a weak man and Isobel's hold on him was far greater than he had imagined.
Dinner was a casual affair. After that, they had done the washing up in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Isobel had been unusually quiet, now that he thought about it, as if something important was on her mind.
He hadn't realized it before, but that was because she didn't even dry off her hands before cupping his face and kissing him squarely on the mouth.
Richard's initial shock had instantly disappeared at the feeling of her soft, warm lips on his. She snuck her hands behind his neck, slowly tangling her fingers in his hair, while he strengthened his grip on her hips, bringing her flush against him.
Isobel sighed, interrupting his train of thoughts. "Well, that was certainly… something."
She could feel his breath on her skin as he laughed softly. "Just something? You wound me profoundly, my dear."
"There is nothing more fragile than a man's ego, they say," she purred, making his heart soar. He had always been used to see the cheerful, practical side of her. He thought he had discovered new sides of Isobel during their relationship, like her sweet, soft and vulnerable part… but it seemed like he had a lot more to discover about her.
He kissed her breast fondly, "Indeed. It was all certainly unexpected, but I must say it has been quite the pleasant surprise," he commented, before rising his head to peck her softly on the lips.
She stretched on the bed like a cat, letting out a moan of satisfaction that made Richard want to make love to her all over again. "I'm glad you appreciated it," she murmured.
"I hadn't imagined it happening like this," he confessed sincerely.
"I'm many things, but I was never predictable."
"That you aren't, Isobel," he agreed.
"So, how did you imagine it?" she wondered, caressing his hair.
"Well, for starters I thought I would make the first move."
She laughed. "Oh, you mean like after a lovely night out, where you managed to get me completely drunk?"
He smiled at her, that was something he had still to behold. "More like I first got on one knee, blue velvety box in hand…"
She froze and stopped her ministrations abruptly. "Richard. Don't say things you don't mean."
He leaned on his elbow, watching her intently, his hand splayed on her stomach. "But that's just it, Isobel. I have been a fool today at the Abbey. That wasn't at all how I planned it, but having you there in front of me, speaking animatedly of how it was about time for Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes to get together… it's a thought that's been going on my mind for a while now and –"
"You mean you thought of us together? As in husband-and-wife together?" she was eyeing him almost stupidly, too shocked to function.
"Yes. Is it untoward of me to say?"
She bit her lip, her eyes welling up while she sat against the headboard. She reached out to him, her hands caressing his face, "Not at all, Richard, not at all."
"Then, what do you say, huh? Would you like to marry an old and simple small-town doctor?"
She laughed brokenly, while he wiped away the few tears that had rolled down her cheeks. "Yes, yes."
He kissed her ardently, pouring all his love for her in the kiss. "Oh, and I got you a ring," he explained excitedly between kisses. "I have left it in the pocket of my jacket downstairs."
"You are a dear man, Richard, but the ring is the last one of my thoughts right now," she mumbled, peppering kisses from his neck to his chest.
"Is it?" he murmured, intrigued.
"Mhmm… and Richard-"
"What, my dear?"
"After what you pulled just a while ago, you're anything but old."
What would we do without Beryl Patmore to speak the truth? :)
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