"They will have to see that taking in a child is for the best! What a wonderful idea!" A dazzling smile crossed Isobel's face as her hands came together under her chin in delight.
Dickie moved towards her and put both of his hands on her arms. "Now…now…let us not get ahead of ourselves. There will be quite a lot of work to do and people to involve. It's just a notion…I wouldn't want to dash your hopes if it does not pan out."
Isobel nodded but her smile weakened none. She took her husband's arm as Mead announced dinner. She was grateful to have Dickie's support when many in the community felt the orphanage was a breeding ground for criminal activity.
"I do so appreciate your taking an interest in this," she said softly as Mead held out the chair for her.
"Anything that interests you interests me," Dickie replied, raising his glass to her. She blushed and looked down, grateful the footmen entered with the first course so her color might return to normal.
They discussed Dickie's idea for the elder orphans to work on fixing and opening the old school house that had burned down the summer before. When fall had arrived, the school children had been divided into age groups and separated in to smaller buildings. The men in the community were unable to devote their time to the rebuilding project; and yet, large families were furious that their children were spread now across the entire county.
Isobel and Dickie both realized that many in the county felt education was worthless. It was true that working on the farm or in a trade was beneficial; but education could afford a child so many other opportunities. It had become a joint effort for Lord and Lady Merton to promote all children in the county attending classes…but the loss of the schoolhouse had not helped their endeavor.
Isobel excitedly detailed how some of the older boys were always willing to fix things at the orphanage and were sure to be helpful with the project. Dickie listened with amusement, pleased to see the spark back in his wife's eyes. Perhaps this would help not only the orphanage…but the county in general. If they could show that children could be hard-working AND receive an education, it may help get orphans in to good homes where schooling was welcome.
With dessert finished, Isobel declared she wanted to write down a few details to discuss with Mrs. Ingle the next day. She did not want to forget a thing after hearing Dickie's plan. It was in this moment that she saw her husband in a different light. His well-rounded background and willingness to entertain unpopular notions made her feel all the more blessed to have him by her side.
Mead held Isobel's chair as she stood and smiled gently to Dickie. "Will you stay in here for a bit?"
"No, no I'll come through with you now."
She took his offered arm as they moved in to the drawing room. "Dr. Clarkson wishes you well and said to say hello."
"Dr. Clarkson? When did you see him?" she asked.
He cleared his throat, hoping to make it seem as though he had not requested to meet with the doctor. "I happened upon him in the village. He said to wish you well."
"How kind! I fear I have not gotten to visit the Outpatient Clinic as often as I'd like," she replied with a sigh.
Dickie helped her sit at the desk and handed her a cup of coffee from the young footman, Andrew. She thanked him and wrote down a few notes on her tablet, while Dickie gathered a glass of scotch for himself.
"Perhaps we can rectify that," Dickie said, moving back to the center of the room.
"Rectify what?" she asked, finishing her writing and standing to move towards the settee.
Dickie waited for her to make herself comfortable before sitting across from her. He eyed her suspiciously, noticing how the fine lines by her eyes creased a bit deeper this evening, her movements slow as she sipped the warm coffee. The happy cantor they'd shared over dinner seemed to vanish as she now sat quietly, her stature drained of its prior energy. He knew he needed to speak to her about visiting Dr. Clarkson…it could wait no longer.
Isobel set her cup on her lap and looked over to him. "Dickie…what is it you wish to rectify?"
"I thought we might take a trip in to see George soon…perhaps you can speak with Dr. Clarkson then and visit the clinic," he began cautiously.
"That would be lovely…goodness, you're one for thoughtful ideas today," she replied, laughing softly.
"I wouldn't say that," Dickie answered, setting his glass of Scotch to the side and standing. He nodded to Andrew who understood and left the pair alone. As the footman closed the door behind him, Isobel turned to find Dickie sitting beside her.
"Where has Andrew gone?" she asked.
"I wanted to speak to you alone…I know the walls have ears but better they are not in plain sight," he answered with a smile.
"Is everything all right?" she asked, setting her coffee cup aside and turning back to eye him seriously.
"Yes, everything is fine. But I want to be honest with you….my reasoning for taking you to Downton is not only to visit family and friends."
"Whatever do you mean?" she inquired.
"I've asked Dr. Clarkson to give his thoughts on your health, Isobel…to see if he agrees with Dr. Thompson's diagnosis."
Isobel sat back, her body language signaling the tension that suddenly filled the room. "I don't understand."
"My dear, your headaches have been getting worse over the past few months. And Dr. Thompson's suggestion of rest has done nothing if not cause you more fatigue. I wanted Dr. Clarkson's opinion."
She turned her face away, her lips drawn in a tight line.
"Please forgive me for not speaking with you first…but the chance was in front of me and I took it," he explained, anxiously searching her face for a reaction.
Isobel was full of mixed emotions: anger, guilt, gratitude. She looked down and clasped her hands together, her thumbs unconsciously twiddling in circles. Dickie allowed her to her thoughts for a few moments but could only handle her silence for so long. He gently placed his hand over hers, causing her thumbs to cease moving.
"Isobel…I am sorry," he said softly. "But please do not push me away…not when I only want to help." She took a deep breath before looking up at him, the hurt evident in her eyes.
"I am sorry for worrying you. I fear I've allowed the stress of the orphans to take over my emotions," she replied before biting her bottom lip. She did not dare admit how poorly she'd felt…or that she, too, had been concerned that the fatigue and pain were only getting worse.
Dickie squeezed her hands and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "My dear, I think you realize it is more than the stress of the orphans."
Isobel's shoulders drooped lower than her normal posture. "I'm afraid your wife is getting no younger, Lord Merton. And one's energy as they age does weaken."
"Indeed. But please….allow me this. It seems while your energy has weakened, my nerves have heightened. At least if Dr. Clarkson sees you…well, I will feel I've done something more to help," he answered.
"Dickie, you've done more than I could ever ask," she replied, finally allowing his fingers to entwine with hers.
"And so I ask you this one last favor. Forgive me, my dear…I know I am overzealous. But I do worry about you ever so much."
Isobel allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "It's very lucky you are eloquent, Lord Merton. Your words seemed to have squelched my anger."
"Then you will allow Dr. Clarkson to ask a few questions about how you've been feeling?"
"Only if you promise not interject your own thoughts," she warned, standing to head up for the evening.
"I would not dream of it," he replied, following her to exit the drawing room. But he was stopped in his tracks as she turned to face him and firmly placed her hand in the middle of his chest.
"And mind you do not forget it," she said softly as her lips curled upward.
With that look, he thought, how can I deny her? Smiling, he nodded and took her hand to follow her out of the drawing room.