Thank you to all who have reviewed…I know I am stringing out Isobel's diagnosis quite a bit…but it is because I want to be as historically accurate as possible! I promise the answer will come SOON!

Until then, I hope you enjoy a little romance :)

One week later: Friday Evening

"Good evening, Father," Timothy said walking in to the library.

"I'd almost given up on you," Dickie said, setting his book aside and standing to shake his son's hand.

"Train broke down ahead of us on the tracks. Took three bloody hours to get it cleared," Timothy said, taking a seat across from his father. "Has Isobel already gone up?"

"Mm...We had a late dinner, and she retired soon after," Dickie replied.

"How have things been?" Timothy stretched his hands up in the air and clasped them behind his head, leaning back against the settee.

"Things seem to be going rather well with your new institutions. We can take a look over things tomorrow morning if you like."

Timothy nodded but saw that his father was still uneasy about something. Allowing a moment of silence, Timothy unclasped his hands and brought them to his knees, leaning forward to eye Dickie seriously.

"And how is Isobel?"

"Hmm…oh, she's well, thank you," Dickie answered, his eyes not meeting his son's.

"Father…you never were a good liar." Timothy smirked as his father finally met his eyes with a glare.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Come now, Father. I can see the worry written all over your face. Has the doctor said anything about her test results?"

Dickie finished his brandy and set the glass aside, rubbing a hand over his face. "No...he hasn't."

"And he has not come to any conclusion based on her symptoms?"

"Until the testing comes back, he does not wish to treat her in the case that his suggested treatment is the wrong one."

"Understandable. But she has been continuing with her work at the orphanage?"

"Yes, but I might make a trip down to visit Mrs. Ingle myself…to see if there are any other volunteers in the area that can help for the time being."

"How very gallant of you Father," Timothy said, smiling kindly a Dickie stood. He walked over and clapped a hand on Timothy's shoulder.

"I will say goodnight. Shall we go around the grounds in the morning? We are invited to luncheon at Downton in the afternoon."

"Splendid…let's have a look right after breakfast," Timothy replied, standing to bid his Father goodnight.

Dickie nodded and walked out of the library, leaving his youngest son to wonder what exactly had happened in the week he had been away.

"Milady, would you like me to get a headache powder for you?" Elsa asked softly, gently brushing Isobel's hair out.

Isobel had to admit that Elsa was very perceptive. She had tried to hide the increasing pain behind her eyes and down her neck by saying she was simply tired. But the lady's maid knew Her Ladyship well enough to realize something more was wrong.

"I'm sure a good night of sleep will be enough," Isobel replied softly, her fingers curling in to her palms as the pain increased. The light was beginning to hurt her eyes but she didn't dare turn off the lamp on her vanity….it would give her away much too easily.

"Of course. But as I am going down to get the tea Dr. Clarkson suggested for you, I will bring a powder on the tray…in case you might need it during the night," Elsa replied, hoping Isobel would not feel she was stepping across any lines.

Isobel sighed and closed her eyes. "Thank you, Elsa."

Setting the brush down, Elsa moved to begin braiding Isobel's hair. "Would you…would you mind leaving it down tonight, Elsa?"

Elsa's eyes creased in confusion. "Of course, milady…what would you…"

"Just pin back the front pieces perhaps…" Isobel suggested. She was doing a poor job of keeping her pain a secret from the lady's maid. It would probably be easier to tell her what was wrong. But the strong-willed, independent Isobel Grey would not give in so easily.

Elsa obliged silently, gently pulling back the top portion of Isobel's hair to easily pin at the base of her neck. She looked up and caught sight of Isobel's face in the mirror, finding the woman with her eyes closed and lips pressed together. Having seen this before, she knew it would be best to tell Lord Merton what was going on.

"I'm heading down for your tea, milady? Anything else you might need?"

"No…thank you, Elsa," Isobel answered, offering a weak smile for the lady's maid. Elsa nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly and heading in the opposite direction of the stairs…towards Lord Merton's dressing room.

Dickie waited at the end of the hall, as promised, until he saw Elsa close the door to his wife's bedroom a half hour later. She looked both ways, making sure no footmen were lurking in the hall, before hurrying towards him.

"How is she?" he whispered.

"She is drinking her tea…and she was eyeing the powder when I left. Hopefully she will take it," Elsa explained, clasping her hands in front of her and looking down.

"Good. If not, I will make sure to persuade her it is for the best."

"They do make her stomach upset," Elsa added, knowing it was the reason Isobel detested the new, stronger powders Dr. Clarkson provided.

Dickie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know…but it does allow her to sleep most of the night."

Elsa nodded as he offered her a weak smile. "Thank you for your help, Elsa. It is most appreciated."

"Of course, milord. If you need anything else…"

"I know…I know," he interrupted, already knowing they could call on her at any time, day or night, and she would be there to help. He smiled warmly to her. "Off you go…I'm sure she'll be fine by morning."

"Very good, milord. Good night."

"Good night, Elsa. And thank you," he said. He waited until she had disappeared through the door leading to the back stairwell before moving to Isobel's bedroom.

Knocking lightly, he entered the room and saw Elsa had already turned down all the lights, save for his and Isobel's side table lamps. He closed the door quietly when he saw Isobel already lying down, not reading as she usually did. Laying his dressing gown on the end of the bed, he slowly climbed in beside her and turned off his lamp.

The movement caused her to stir. "Dickie?"

"I'm here darling…" he said, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close as he lay down behind her. Her hand came to rest on his arm that now encircled her stomach.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

"Mmhm…"

"Your hair is down," he commented. He wondered why it was not pulled in to a braid, but didn't question her…for her long hair was one of his favorite features and it was not often he saw it left loose.

"Mmhm…"

Her fingers entwined with his as she shifted a bit, her back now pressed against his chest. He knew he should be worried she was feeling poorly, but he could not help feeling pleased that she wanted him near her…physically….

"We should turn off the light," he said softly, his free hand now reaching up to stroke her long curls. A small sigh of contentment from his wife soon followed. He continued to massage the back of her head and neck, hoping it would help her pain in some small way.

After a few moments, her fingers left his, and she reached over, turning off her bedside lamp. Slowly, she turned over and took his hand, placing it back around her waist, and snuggled in to his chest. He chuckled softly, wrapping his other arm around her and gently resting his chin on her hair.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

"Mmhm…"

He waited a few moments, hoping to catch her in a moment of vulnerability, before he asked the question burning in his mind.

"Isobel…did you take the powder?" he asked cautiously.

"Mmhm…"

"And did it…" he began, only to be interrupted by her fingers covering his lips. Her face lifted from under his chin and she shushed him lovingly.

"Just hold me," she said, her fingers moving to caress his cheek. "Please…"

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, lingering a moment before pulling back to look her in the eye. "I'll do anything you ask, my dear…"

Her smile was quickly covered by his lips, pressing firmly but still holding back for fear he might cause her more pain.

"Dickie…" she whispered against his lips, "…I love you."

He broke away, placing a hand on her cheek. "And I you…"

Her eyes softened and she leaned forward again. Her lips grazed over his once before she shifted slightly, pulling his hand down to rest on her hip. Getting as close to him as she could, she caught his lips with hers, wanting to forget all the pain…the uncertainty…the worry…

Surprised, Dickie proceeded slowly, fearing she was pushing herself too far…especially with the headache Elsa had described. But the way her lips worked over his…her gentle caresses up and down his arm…he knew he would not be able to hold back much longer. Placing his hands on her flushed cheeks, he pulled back and looked her deep in the eyes.

"Isobel…you need to rest…I shouldn't…."

His words were stalled when she gripped his wrists, shaking her head back and forth insistently.

"But darling…," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Isobel…"

"Dickie…I…I am not ill…" she countered, the tone of her voice serious as she looked up at him. He saw the fear etched in her features and knew she was saying the words to not only convince him, but to rid her own mind of worry. "Please don't push me away."

Her plea broke his heart. "Oh Isobel…I would never…"

His lips claimed hers as he wrapped her in a passionate embrace. He still moved slowly…gently…each touch hesitating slightly. Rolling her on to her back, he kept the full of his weight off of her until she moved to pull him close. However, her grip on his shoulders was weaker than normal, to the point where he wondered if she was feeling unsteady or woozy.

He pushed up on his hands, each one planted firmly on either side of her body, desperately trying to contain his want of her. His caution, however, was all for not. Her hands reached out, pulling his lips back to hers, not wanting his body to be more than a few inches away.

"Isobel…I fear I'm going to hurt you…" he explained between kisses. Her grip strengthened some but she kept silent, her actions all he needed to cast his worry aside. "You're sure…?"

She pulled back from a lingering kiss, meeting his gaze directly. "Quite sure," she answered with a small smile. "Now…are you finished asking questions, Lord Merton?"

He chuckled and placed another gentle kiss on her lips before removing his pajama top. "Indeed Lady Merton."