Did the last chapter confuse you? I'm sorry if it did, but that was the intention... ;-) Enjoy the next installment!

Chapter Five

When Isobel returned to Crawley House she saw Larry Grey leaving in his car. The tires were spinning on the slippery road and she had the dark hunch that things had not gone well between father and son. She wasn't surprised about it, but she still wished for Dickie's sake that one day the relationship with his children would improve.

She found him in the drawing room where he was still standing near the window. He was staring outside. He was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice her entrance.

"Dickie?" she asked softly, as she stepped behind him. "I saw Larry leaving. What happened?"

"Not much," Dickie admitted gravely. "As always my son refuses to listen to me. Maybe it is what I deserve."

"And what do you mean by that?" Her hands wrapped around his lower arm as she leaned against him.

"I'm a selfish coward, Isobel, do you know that?"

"That's not true," she objected.

"Oh, it is true. I should have told him the truth, but I lied to his face. I just didn't have the courage to admit my own failures."

Isobel took his hand and squeezed it. "Well, what did you tell him?"

"I told him to put a hold on his affair with Helen - for Amelia's sake. I told him to think about his family. At first he denied the whole affair, but I know now what Annabelle told me is not a lie. I saw it in his eyes."

Isobel's hope that at least a part of Annabelle's story could have been a misunderstanding or an exaggeration had just vanished into thin air, but she did her best to put on a brave face.

"I can't believe that from all the women Larry has met so far he picked the one who's his half-sister. How absurd does that sound?" she asked dryly.

"Do you believe in fate?" he asked in return.

"Not really," she admitted. She had always believed in self-care and honesty.

"Me neither until today. I guess, in the end you reap what you saw."

It hurt her to hear him talking like this. She wrapped her arms around his upper body and pulled him against her. "Look, we'll find a way to deal with this. I'm your wife and we'll do this together. I'm willing to put up another fight with Larry, if necessary."

A doubtful expression crossed his face. "As much as I appreciate your concern and your support, this isn't your problem. I was the one who cheated on the mother of my children and I'm the one who has to bear the consequences." Gentle but determined he freed himself from her. "Excuse me, but I think I want to skip dinner tonight. I'm not hungry."

Against her better judgement she let him leave the room. She knew he was someone who needed his privacy to come to terms with whatever troubled him, but standing at the sidelines wasn't in her nature. It broke her heart to see him suffer and she knew she had to do something.

After spending a rather sleepless night next to her sleepless husband, Isobel decided to go to York. As much as she dreaded the idea to talk to Mrs Kent, she saw that she had no other choice.

Sensing Dickie wouldn't be happy with her plan, she told him she would go to Ripon to do some errands, but he was barely listening to her while he pondered over his morning paper. She hated lying to her husband, but her gut told her she was doing the right thing. What had the Dowager once told her? 'Never let tenderness be a bar to a bit of snooping. Never.'

Luckily Isobel remembered Annabelle talking about her accomodation in the Royal Hotel in York when she and Dickie had run into her. At least she didn't have to make a paper chase across town to find her.

On their way to York it had started snowing again and Isobel registered with growing concern that it didn't look as if the weather would improve any time soon. She had to hurry, if she wanted to be back in Downton before the roads became impassable and she had stay in York for at least the upcoming night.

Uncomfortable with the task ahead, Isobel told her driver to wait and entered the luxurious and busy foyer of the hotel. At the reception she asked for Annabelle in was in for a disappointment.

"I'm afraid Mrs Kent has left the house over an hour ago," the young receptionist told her, much to her dismay.

"Did she say when she will be back?"

"No, Ma'am, I'm afraid not. Do you want to leave a message for her?"

Isobel hesitated. If she had been sensible, she would have written to Annabelle in the first place. Now she had gone through this terrible weather for nothing. While Isobel contemplated her options a woman in her thirties approached her. Isobel noticed her in the corner of her eye and knew instantly who she was. Her red, flamboyant coat was matched with a fitting broad-brimmed hat and the way she moved reminded her of Annabelle. The biggest difference in appearance to Annabelle was the colour of her daughter's hair and her eyes.

"Excuse me," the woman said, her voice coloured by a soft french-canadian accent. "Did you just ask for Mrs Kent?"

"I did," Isobel confirmed, absorbing every detail about the young woman who Cousin Violet would describe as 'too tall for find a man'.

"I'm her daughter Helen Rouquette. I'm afraid she has an appointment and won't be back until this afternoon."

"Oh well…." Unsure what to say Isobel shifted from one foot onto the other. "My visit was a spontaneous idea. You see, your mother and I met a few days ago…"

Helen's face suddenly brightened up and she interrupted Isobel. "Are you Lady Merton?"

"Yes, I am…."

"Mother told me about you! How nice of you to visit her! I'm just so sorry she isn't here."

Genuinely perplexed by Helen's kindness, Isobel was a speechless and tried to sort out her impressions. "As I said, it was meant as a surprise. Your mother didn't mention you the last time we spoke. I had no idea you were here."

"Oh, I arrived last night. She didn't know I was coming…" Helen broke off and Isobel noticed how her cheeks coloured. "It was meant as a surprise. I'm visiting some old friends who live nearby."

"I see." Isobel gave her a smile and the way Helen smiled back at her suddenly reminded her about Dickie.

"Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?" Helen asked. "I just came back and could use a little refreshment."

Isobel looked at the big clock over the reception. It was almost twelve o'clock. Due to the snowy weather conditions and her bad planning she would miss luncheon anyway and so she took the invitation.

"Why not?"

Helen gave her a warm smile. "Perfect! There's a wonderful tea room right across the street."

Two hours later Isobel was back on her way to Downton. Unfortunately the weather had taken a turn for the worse. The wind beat the snow over the already icy streets and the chauffeur struggled with the speed of the car under the conditions.

As productive and interesting her encounter with Helen had been as bad was Isobel's conscious concerning Dickie. He must be waiting for her by now. She wished she had telephoned Crawley House before she had left York, but she had simply forgotten about it, because she had been too excited about the results of her conversation with Helen. In retrospect it was an advantage that she had run into her instead of meeting with Annabelle herself. Pretty sure that the Dowager would be proud of her investigative skills, Isobel tried to relax while the car moved jiggly along the road.

When the clock in the drawing room struck three o'clock in the afternoon Dickie was ready to call the police. He hadn't heard from Isobel since she had left the house and after a short and rather unpleasant conversation with one of the maids he knew Isobel had gone to York instead of Ripon.

A worried look out of the window promised him nothing good. It had been snowing for hours. Before luncheon he had taken a short walk through the village and had met one of his tenants. The man had told him many roads were impassable by now.

If he had only demanded she stayed at home. He groaned, scolding himself. Knowing her she wouldn't have listened to him anyway. She was stubborn as a mule and when she set her mind on something she was reckless. Surely she had gone to York to talk to Annabelle. A thought that made him more uneasy than he wanted to admit. It unnerved beyond measure to imagine both women sitting at the same table, sharing stories about him. And what unnerved him even more was the idea that something had happened to Isobel.

In the hallway he heard the front door opening and footsteps.

"Thank God!" he mumbled to himself and rushed to the door. To his disappointment it wasn't Isobel who was standing there, head and shoulders covered in with snow. It was Sergeant Willis.

"Pardon me, my Lord," Willis said as she wiped the snow from his shoulder.

"Sergeant Willis, what brings you here?" Dickie asked, visibly tense.

"I'm afraid I have bad news," the policeman said. "There was an accident and your car was involved."

Dickie felt how he became pale. "Oh my God. Where's Lady Merton?"

"That's just it, my Lord. She's in the hospital. Doctor Clarkson's asked me to get you."

~~~ tbc~~~

Let me know what you think!