Chapter 3
The note in Clarksons' hands was one of these that could send a person into utter turmoil. The doctor had to read the message that reached him from the Dower House at the hospital twice, before he truly understood what it meant. It certainly was a first and one that made him gasp. Never before the Dowager Countess of Grantham had invited him for dinner. Tea yes, luncheon yes, but dinner? Never!
Why the Dowager had chosen no other day than halloween for this dinner was a mystery to him, but that date was not important. The only thing he cared about was if Isobel Crawley would be there, too. He had no idea, but, of course, he had this inkling she would be. In the end the invitation could mean that old Lady Grantham was giving them her blessing… Their relationship had improved over the last couple of months. Ever since Mrs Crawley had called off her engagement to Lord Merton, they had grown closer and lately he had felt it was about time to tell her about his feelings. There was this strange chemistry between them. This afternoon, during the board meeting, he had noticed - with regret and tingling excitement - that she didn't dare to look at him. She had also avoided him afterwards and had practically fled the hospital, before he had had the possibility to speak to her privately.
As he saw it she felt as she did and didn't know how to deal with her emotions. She was a proud woman, just as he was a proud man. At this point he didn't have the nerve to tell her just yet about his feelings, but soon, when the right moment had arrived he would confess his love for her. He swallowed. Once he had tried to propose to her, but she had stopped him before he could do so. This wouldn't happen to him again. He also couldn't allow himself to get carried away by his feelings. He had to plan this thoroughly and with care.
And before he could have dinner at the Dower House, he first had to locate his white tie. He needed to look as formidable as possible. Compared to a dinner in the Dower House, a dinner at the Abbey was a casual affair. The Dowager would never allow her guests to look anything but their best.
He checked his pocket watch and decided to call it a day. He had important things to do.
"I gather, my arrival couldn't have been worse timed" Prudence Shackleton said while she walked next to Dickie. They had chosen to have a walk across the cemetery, a place that certainly felt morbid, but with the fog hanging over the village like a plume of steam, they stood a chance of being unwatched by curious eyes.
"It wasn't your fault. If you hadn't arrived, something or someone else would have disturbed us."
"You sound rather doomed," she observed with a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Well, I am. It's been almost a year now since she left me."
"And you think if she hasn't come round by now, she never will?" Prudence asked and stopped once they had reached her late husband's grave.
Dickie ignored her question and looked at engraved dates on the tombstone. Hugo had been one of his best friends and it still pained that he had betrayed him.
"It's been five years," he said pensively. "Do you miss him?"
"More than you miss Ada, I imagine."
"That shouldn't be too hard." He grinned humorlessly. She chuckled and linked arms with him. Slowly she stirred him away from the grave and back to the paved path.
"You don't have to be alone, you know," she said rather quietly. "I've told you how I feel about you. I think we could be good for each other."
"And I told you, not to tempt me," he returned. "It wouldn't be fair against you."
"Don't you worry about me. I can live with her in my shadow, as long as I know it's her loss." She seemed amused about her own boldness, but Dickie knew she meant every word she said. Prudence never did things halfway.
"And there, you see, is the problem." He stopped and took her gloved hand in his. "I couldn't. After Ada's death I promised myself never to live another lie and accepting your… offer as tempting as it is, would mean to break my promise."
Only the fact that they still were in a public place, kept her from leaning in to kiss him.
"Does she actually know what she's throwing away?" Prudence wondered, truly amazed. "How daft can a person be?"
He shrugged. "Don't think too bad of her. She's hurting. She had to endure a lot of heartbreak in her life. And Larry was no help in gaining her trust … or her heart for that matter."
"Don't defend her. She doesn't deserve it, if Larry is the only reason she chickened out of your engagement. Perhaps I should talk to her. I could give her more than one specific reason to move back to Liverpool."
"Manchester," he corrected her amused and added. "Please, don't say anything to her."
Prudence chuckled amused. "Are you afraid I will eat her alive?"
"Let's say I'm glad the great war is over and I don't want the next one to arrive just yet."
He could tell she wasn't happy with his demand, but she gave in. With a sigh, she said, "So I'll keep my sword holstered… for the time being."
"Thank you," he gave her a radiant smile and squeezed her hand. "I'm glad to hear it."
"You won't believe what I just saw!" Denker announced when she entered the servants' hall of the Dower House. She took off her head and shoved it over the table into Spratt's direction.
The butler had his nose buried in the paper and groaned, most unhappy, when the hat ended near his tea cup.
"You finally saw the werewolf?" He snapped.
"No, but I saw a vampire!"
He scoffed. "I knew you would snap sooner or later."
"I didn't snap," Denker informed him and sank on the chair opposite him. "I tell you, the plot is thickening and the vampire is a lady!"
Spratt gave up. He closed the newspaper and folded it neatly. "What plot?"
"I just saw Lord Merton and Lady Shackleton taking a walk and they were holding hands!"
"So?"
"Well, don't you see what that means?"
"No."
"You're so daft!
"Please, enlighten me!" He encouraged with the certainty of someone who knew more than the other one thought.
"It's fairly easy, Mister Spratt," Denker started smugly. "Obviously Mrs Crawley isn't eager to fall for the advances of the nice, old lord and so he turned to another grand lady of the county to… fulfil his needs."
Spratt closed his eyes, barely hiding that he was losing his patience. "Why can't you be less graphic in your descriptions?"
"Because that wouldn't do the situation any justice! I tell you, Lady Shackleton can't wait to run her claws deeply into his skin."
Spratt was speechless and rose. "I think, I'm going upstairs now."
"Don't be such a prut!"
"For your information, Miss Denker, her Ladyship has invited Doctor Clarkson, the Lord Merton, Mrs Crawley, and Lady Shackleton for dinner tomorrow night."
Denker's mouth dropped. Unable to contain her excitement she jumped up. "Are you serious?"
"Of course, I am serious. Her Ladyship told me this morning after Mrs Crawley had left that she intended to give a small dinner party tomorrow. Everything needs to be perfect or otherwise her Ladyship won't be pleased."
"But tomorrow's Halloween!"
"So what? How does her Ladyship's party intervene with your plans to dress up like a gargoyle?"
"Oh, shut up, you… daft little man!"
"Oh no, you will shut up! If I see you upstairs tomorrow evening during the party at any time, I will skin you alive! And after that I will feed you to the werewolves and vampires! Do we understand each other?" Spratt glared at the Ladies' maid whose response sounded rather indignant, "Of course, we understand each other. I know my place - unlike some people I don't consider myself to be more important than I truly am."
Spratt ignored the underlying insult and straightened his jacket. "Good. And don't you forget it! None of your nonsense. If the dinner fails, our lives shall become a living hell!"
Denker watched Spratt leaving and grinned as soon as the door closed behind him. Who was he to forbid her anything? If anything, she wanted to be a fly at the wall, when the strange congregation met for dinner the next evening!
After a light supper, Isobel was sitting in her drawing room. Against her better judgement she had picked up her novel again. Since "Dracula" didn't leave her alone in her sleep, she could pretty well read more of it. Dickies' words about the different perceptions of men and women about the novel still circulated in her head and kept her thinking. He hadn't given her his opinion, but she couldn't help but wonder what he thought of it. Had he experienced the same curious arousal when he first read the lines? Did he picture himself with the three female vampires after he had finished the scene?
She still couldn't get past her dream about him the night before. It still aroused her and she didn't know how to get rid of the erotic visions in her head.
Realizing that she started to feel hot, she closed the volume, and took a large sip from her sherry. Scolding herself for her improper ideas she abandoned the book
onto the small table next to her. It had to stop. She had to stop thinking, wondering, dreaming about Dickie Merton. It was over between them and the way it had looked today, it was likely that he and Lady Shackleton would become an item sooner or later. She hated to think about it and her heart ached when she pictured them together, but she had to face the irreversible. She had no right to be jealous and she had no right to be angry with him for getting on with his life. After the way she had sent him away last Christmas, he had every reason to look for another woman who could make him happy.
Get over it, Isobel.
Her eyes fell on the letter that stood on the mantelpiece next to the clock. It was an invitation from Violet for a dinner party the next evening. Violet had told about her idea to invite some neighbours for dinner and she had agreed to attend. She didn't feel like it, but perhaps it would be a nice diversion that not only kept her from reading this stupid novel, but also kept her mind from Dickie Merton and his potential next wife.
~tbc~
So, I think, you see where this is leading. I hope the next chapter will be ready for Halloween, but I can't promise anything!
