Chapter Twenty

"Seriously?" Clarkson asked, after he had entered the drawing room. His eyes roamed the room and with every detail they uncovered his disbelief grew. Helen Rouquette had a bleeding head wound, Mr Cruikshank lay on the floor, blood perhaps unconscious, and Dickie Merton was sitting near the fireplace. He was pressing his left hand against his injured shoulder.

He gave Isobel a look that spoke volumes about his mood. "Do I even want to know?" he asked.

"I don't think so," she admitted a little embarrassed. "Perhaps it would be best, if you looked after Mr Cruikshank first."

"When did he pass out?" he asked when he sank down next to him and checked his pulse.

"Right before I telephoned," Isobel answered.

Carefully Clarkson palpated Cruikshank's head. "I think his jaw is broken," he said. "But I have to examine him in the hospital." He looked up to Larry who was standing next to Helen. He was holding her hand, a gesture that clearly aroused Clarkson's irritation.

"Mr Grey, please the men outside to bring a stretcher for your father-in-law."

Larry not used to taking orders from anyone, hesitated, but did as asked, when Helen encouraged him with a wave of her hand.

"And what happened to you?" Clarkson asked, when he removed the handkerchief Helen had been pressing against her temple.

"I stumbled and hit my head."

He scoffed, "Of course, you did. Let me guess, you and Mr Cruikshank stumbled over the same chair and he hit someone's fist and you hit the edge of a table."

Helen grinned despite the pain in her head, "You're such a mind reader. It was an unfortunate accident."

He shook his head in annoyance and turned to Isobel, "Do you want to take care of it? Disinfect the wound and apply a small bandage. Mrs Rouquette was lucky. It's just a small cut."

"Of course."

He turned back to Helen and said, "Please, do come to the hospital, if you feel nauseous or dizzy."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Clarkson moved over to Dickie, while Isobel collected everything she needed out of his doctor's bag.

"Didn't I tell you, you could remove the sling, if you took it easy?" he asked as he examined Dickie's shoulder. "A childish punch-up doesn't fit that description!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dickie said as nonchalantly as his pain allowed it. "All I did was a little stretching."

"A little stretching?" Clarkson laughed. "Well, that's another week with the sling and if it still hurts like this tomorrow, you'll see me at the hospital. Or perhaps you'd prefer, if I just moved in here or in Crawley House. It would be more convenient for me to be nearby than rushing over in the middle of the night every time, your family has a disagreement."

Downton Hospital, two days later

With an uneasy feeling Isobel entered the hospital. With the morning post she had received a note from Doctor Clarkson who asked for a meeting in his office during the afternoon. She had no idea what he wanted to talk about and she didn't exactly looked forward to their meeting. Since Amelia's father was still in the hospital with his jaw fixated, she would have preferred to stay away as far as possible for the time being. She had no desire to see the devious man who had treated them all so poorly.

He instantly called her in when she knocked softly at his office door.

"What is it you wanted to see me about?" she asked, after they had exchanged their greetings and she had settled on the chair in front of his desk.

"I wanted to show you this," he said and gave her the letter he had received shortly before New Year's Day.

"What is it?" she asked puzzled.

"A job offer."

"A job offer?" she repeated stunned and quickly browse through the letter. "Canada…" Surprised she folded the paper and gave it back to him. "Well, I guess that means your reputation precedes you!" It was a useless compliment and they both knew it. Only someone with Annabelle Kent's money and connection could have promoted Clarkson's name for such a position.

"Do you think so?" he asked doubtfully.

"Actually, my guess is someone with the right connections has mentioned your name in the right places. It's a very lucrative post. Becoming head physician in a such a big house is a privilege!"

"I agree. Of course, you would know that…." He leaned back in his chair and watched her closely.

She suddenly understood his implication and said, "Before you ask, neither my husband nor I asked Mrs Kent to pull any kind of strings. It must have been her idea, which means you made an impression on her."

He drew a deep breath."As always you're reading my mind. I was afraid you wanted to get rid off me."

She gently shook her head. "Though I admit you've been testing my patience quite often these days."

"And vice versa."

"I can't think why," she said half-amused. "The question is what will you do about it?" She pointed at the letter on the table.

"About Mrs Kent's motivation or the job offer?"

"Both."

"Do you care?"

Isobel could tell from the glitter in his eyes that this was the crucial question for him. "I do care," she replied truthfully. "As a friend. I want for you to be happy and if moving to Canada to become a grand doctor at the side of Mrs Kent makes you happy, I'll support you."

"And if I decide to stay?"

"Then I'm sure my family and I will find a way to keep you occupied," she replied with a wide smile.

He chuckled, "I was afraid you would say something like that." Then he became serious again. "But honestly… I admit the offer is tempting, but…"

"But?"

"I don't think I want to leave Downton. Not just yet."

She accepted his statement with a nod. "That leaves the matter of Mrs Kent. Did you talk to her about it?"

"Not yet…" he admitted. With curiosity she registered his hesitation, but she didn't want to overplay her hand. So far their conversation had been more friendly than it had been in weeks and she didn't want to risk to change that.

"Do you want to talk about it or should I mind my own business?"

He moved in his chair, the uneasiness written all over his face. "Sometimes I think I'll never understand women," he finally said. "And to be frank I'm not ready to consider a future with someone who's perhaps in love with someone else."

Isobel swallowed. She knew what he was hinting at and it ruffled her feathers. She knew it didn't really mattered, if Annabelle was still in love with Dickie, as long as he was not in love with her, but it still bothered her to think about it. Yet over the last couple of days she had questioned Annabelle's true intentions more than once. What if she was just someone who had never learned to move on?

"You shouldn't mistake nostalgia with sentiment," she said.

"Perhaps she does mistake one for the other. Whatever it is, I'm not prepared to endure an ordeal like that and then there's of course the fact, that I'm nothing more than country doctor while she is a rich widow."

Isobel thought of Annabelle and her infamous past. The woman had risen through the ranks and had worked herself to the top. Would Clarkson accept her past or would it bother him? She honestly couldn't tell. Then she thought about Dickie. He had never cared for her breeding or her past. He had always just loved her the way she was, no questions asked while Clarkson had still been holding prejudices towards Dickie and his aristocratic background.

"I doubt it matters to her who you are," she said. "If she cares for you, she'll accept you. Come what may."

"So you suggest I face the abyss?" he asked.

"The luck is with the brave," she said and rose. For a reason she couldn't quite name, she felt the need to go home and see Dickie.

He rose as well. "If only that were true," he said on their way out.

In the hallway Isobel was surprised to see Dickie who was talking to the head nurse.

"Ah, there you are!" He thanked the nurse and met Isobel and Clarkson in front of his office.

"What are you doing here?" Isobel asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Not really, but I wanted to ask a favour of Doctor Clarkson," Dickie said.

"How can I be of help?" the doctor asked amazed. "Or should I ask who of your family is injured today?"

Dickie shook his head, "No, for a change no one's hurt, but I need a private place to talk to Mrs Kent. I thought, we could use your office, if you don't mind. It's urgent."

Isobel gave Dickie a questioning gaze that he answered with a small shrug, something that didn't exactly calmed her rising worry. Clarkson wasn't all too happy with the request himself, but couldn't think of a good enough reason to decline.

"Of course, if it doesn't take too long. I'll ask the nurse to tell her where you wait for her."

Clarkson left and Isobel stepped next to Dickie. "What is it?" she asked in the lowest possible voice.

"It's about Helen's husband," Dickie whispered back. "She got a telegram today from a friend of hers in Canada. Apparently Alain has hired Pinkerton agents to find her."

"Oh my god!"

"She and Larry prepare to flee the country. Someone has to tell Annabelle and preferable without Cruikshank noticing it. I wouldn't put it past him to destroy their plans."

"I agree…" she said with hesitation in her voice. So much for her going home to spend time with her husband.

"I want to talk to her on my own. I promise I won't be long." He bent down to kiss her cheek. For a short moment she leaned her cheek against his and said, "I'll wait for you."

On her way back home, Isobel made a small detour over the cemetery. During the days with heavy snowfall the small path had been almost impassable, but with the arrival of warmer temperatures the snow had started melting. Isobel had missed her regular visits at Matthew's grave and it seemed Violet shared her sentiment. She stood, heavily leaning on her walking stick, at Sybil's grave and seemed lost in her thoughts. Seeing the lonely figure in front of the gravestone of her youngest granddaughter reminded Isobel of how little she had seen of her friend since Christmas and it made her feel a little guilty.

"A guinea for your thoughts," Isobel said when she stopped next to her.

"I think you're exaggerating their value," Violet answered wearily. "It's all so useless, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Isobel wondered.

"Being alive and old while the young are dead."

"That's quite morbid. What's brought this on?" Isobel asked. "Did something happen?"

Violet shrugged, "No, nothing's happened. I just find myself quite mawkish today. Must be the winter taking its toll."

"Can I invite you for nice cup of hot tea then?" Isobel asked. "After my visit with Doctor Clarkson I deserve one."

Isobel's remark clearly aroused Violet's interest. "What did he say?" she asked with pursed lips. "Did he finally declare his undying love for you?"

"Our conversation wasn't so much about love, as it was about lacking the courage to live it."

Violet scoffed, "That sounds like a phrase from one of these infamous love novels you hear about these days."

"When you want to hear about it, let's go back to the house," Isobel suggested. "There's also news about Larry and Helen."

"There's no need to convince me to have a cup of tea served with gossip about another infamous love story," Violet quipped as she followed Isobel down the path.

"You would be surprised about what love can do to people," Isobel said.

Violet wasn't impressed. "I've seen enough of it during my time. These days I prefer a good book to people. Thank you."

Downton Hospital

Annabelle Kent entered the office of Doctor Clarkson on crutches. Dickie who had stood at the window turned around when he heard the door opening.

"Let me help you," he offered, when he saw her struggling with the crutches and the chair, but she declined with a shake of her head.

"I have to get used to them," she said as she slowly lowered herself onto the chair.

Dickie, a little nervous about the upcoming conversation took a seat on the other chair.

"Your message sounded urgent," Annabelle said. "How can I help?"

Glad, the start of their conversation was smoother than he had expected, he said, "I'm here, because there's been a development."

Annabelle didn't seem surprised or curious. On the contrary, there was a coldness in her voice that lowered his hopes instantly. "A development? You mean Helen's finally managed to make her life as miserable as possible?"

Dickie bent his head. "I'm not sure that's how she would describe it."

She snorted bitterly, "So, how would you describe it, since you see to know her and her life so well?"

"I know, you think I have no right to have an opinion, but Helen's asked me to talk to you."

"I'd rather have you talking sense into her, but you seem to think that you playing nice with her, will grant you her affections. Well, it won't. I tried."

Dickie didn't agree. It was as easy as Annabelle made it sound. On the contrary. "I'm not playing nice with her, but I know what it means to be unhappily married. Why should waste her life just because you want so save your late husband's company? Alain's being dreadful to her and the children and now he's chasing them down. Is that the kind of life you want for them?"

Annabelle swallowed. Taken aback, she opened her mouth and closed it again, when she failed to phrase what was on her mind.

"Larry and Helen want to leave England. Larry has connections to Rhodesia."

"Rhodesia?" She asked. "Do you have any idea how far…."

"Yes, I know how far away it is," Dickie confirmed. "But perhaps they won't even be safe there, if Alain is really as determined to find them. It's the risk they have to take."

"Says the man who's never taken any risk in his life." The bitterness in her voice was unmistakable.

"Just because I didn't take the right risks at the right time, doesn't mean our daughter has to do the same. If it's money you worry about, I'm sure we can make an arrangement."

Annabelle shook her head, almost insulted. "You won't pay me ever again for anything."

"So, what is what you're looking for?" Dickie asked. "Why are you so bitter?"

"I'm not bitter," Annabelle clarified. "I just doubt Larry will make her happy. What does it change that he isn't your biological son? Nothing! He's just like Ada, a miserable creature who poisons anything he touches. Alain might not be the best husband, but he's a safe choice."

Dickie didn't want to agree with Annabelle's reasoning. For the first time he realized that she had never really moved on from their past. She was emotionally stuck in her former life - and her the pain he had mostly caused her. Her memories about him and Ada made her blind for the present and the future. But should Helen or anyone else had to suffer because Annabelle was still hurting and not ready to forgive?

"I agree that Larry's a lot like Ada and he has been miserable for most of his life, but I still think they belong together. Helen is exactly the woman he needs to become a more decent person than he is now. Ada became nasty, because she wasted her life on a man who never loved her and died in a filthy bar in Bombay. Wouldn't you agree that we all did much better, if we lived our lives the way we want to, instead of how we're told to do by society or stuff conventions?"

Annabelle wiped a tear from her cheek. "When I was young I thought so, too… but now… look at us. Two old people with the baggage of a lifetime on their back. Your life may be better now, but for me nothing has changed aside from my bank account, which isn't a lot of help when it comes to matters of the heart. I'm stuck in a world where I can't have everything I want. I never could."

He felt sorry for her and that was perhaps the worst what a man could feel for a woman he once loved. There was no tenderness left for her, just pity and the wish to make it up to her in away she would never accept. He couldn't change a thing about her life as it was, but what he could do was helping his daughter.

"But why should Helen and Larry don't get a chance? Don't they deserve better than we did?"

"You're a hopeless romantic." She laughed and he gave her his handkerchief to dry her cheeks.

"I'm just trying to make things better for... well, my children, because that's what they both are."

"I guess that's true. Even if that's not the way I imagined things to turn out."

"Life's full of surprises. That makes it interesting."

"Never mind." She took her time to collect her thoughts, before she continued. After a minute of silence and a deep breath, she said, "Tell Helen, there's no reason to elope to Rhodesia. I'll write to Alain, I'll offer him my shares of the company. Perhaps that way he'll be persuaded to give up on Helen and the children. I think he's greedy enough to accept. My attempt to get Cruikshank out of the way didn't do much good, but perhaps I'm more lucky with Alain Rouquette."

"Are you sure?" Dickie asked, a bit unconvinced.

"No, but it's a chance," she answered.

He nodded and Annabelle grabbed for her crutches. Always the gentleman Dickie rose and helped her.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked, when he got hold of her elbow to support her while she tried to balance herself.

"No, I don't think so, unless you happened to find your wife's manual on how handling stubborn, Scottish doctors," she answered.

Dickie contemplated her words for a moment and then it dawned to him what she truly meant. If Clarkson and Annabelle were to become an item it would kill two birds with one stone. "Isobel happened to mention he likes his share of Scottish whiskey."

"Well, in that case Alain has to allow me enough money to buy the distillery. Don't you think Lady Merton could give him permission?"

Crawley House

When Dickie returned home he found Isobel in the drawing room. In front of a pleasant fire she was reading a book. When she heard him entering she looked up, smiled, and closed her volume.

"There you are!" she said when he bent down to kiss her forehead.

"What are you reading?" he asked curiously and picked up the book to read the tile on the back. "The Scarlet Letter?" He crooked his eyebrow, which caused her to chuckle. By the time he settled into his favourite chair she had sobered up and asked, "What did you and Annabelle talk about?"

"We argued about Helen and Larry, but in the end she agreed to support their decision to stay together."

Isobel was impressed. "I'm pleased to hear it. What did you have to do to convince her?"

Dickie shrugged, "I appealed to her faith in love."

"Oh my…. How romantic," she quipped.

"Don't tease me, I'm serious," he said. "She also asked me to tell you to give Doctor Clarkson permission to court her. Her words, not mine," he added when he saw the perplexed expression on her face.

"I beg your pardon?!"

"I think her idea is not so bad."

"You want me to play matchmaker for Mrs Kent and Doctor Clarkson?" Isobel asked in disbelief.

"Why not? Unless, of course, you have other plans for him…." Unsure whether he was teasing or testing her, she rose, and went to his chair. With a coy smile she bent down to kiss him. The eager way he responded to her kiss told her everything she needed to him. He was teasing her as she was teasing him.

"What if I told, I've already done so?" she asked, brushing her lips against his mouth.

"What do you mean?"

She kissed him again. "I told Doctor Clarkson to face the abyss." She chuckled and lured him into another kiss.

"Is that true?" He gently touched her face and rose to his feet. "How is it that you're always one step ahead of me?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and shrugged. "It's female intuition," she said and added, "Do you know what else I've taken care of?"

"Enlighten me…."

"I gave the servants the evening off. Each and every one of them. They think we're invited at the Dower House."

"I guess that means you've made other arrangements for us for tonight..."

"Yes… they involve the two of us and a bottle of wine… upstairs."

"That's the best plan I've ever heard of!" he said and kissed her again.

*****tbc******

So, I decided I will add one more tiny chapter after this one. I could have wrapped the story in this chapter, but I decided not to rush the plot. Thanks for your feeback. I really appreciate it!