Richard was becoming a victim of his own success, the way Isobel had responded to him this morning was proof that she wanted him too. Her kisses had been open, honest and passionate. There had always been an attraction to one another since they had first met. At the hospital he found everything he looked at reminded him of her. Somehow every object could connect to a memory involving her, at the medicine cabinet he thought of adrenaline which made him think of her. The fountain pen she had gifted him for Christmas one year. Even the goddamned bed sheets on the cots in the ward! He shook his head as if to clear it, he had to deal with main distributions today. That had been the telephone communication that he had snarled through this morning.
Hopefully it would provide enough of a distraction so he thoughts wouldn't stray to Isobel Crawley.
The day progressed and soon the sun was setting, he grabbed his coat and hat and went to the square. The red coach would be arriving soon. Others were waiting as well, for this would be the last transport into Downton for the day. A few acknowledge him with a small greeting but that was it no small talk. The engine was heard before the coach was seen and the group waiting began to form a line. The coach came into view and then slowed to halt. The doors opened and people began disembarking. A swish of skirt caught Richard's attention and he held out his hand for Isobel to take. She grasped it firmly and guided down off of the bus. When she was on terra firma she didn't let go and Richard felt warmth pool in his belly. This was it, tonight they would become lovers.
Hand in hand they walked through the village toward the cottage. Isobel welcomed the night air against her skin, for her clothes felt too warm. Inside the cottage they instantly went to the bedroom, facing one another and removing each other clothes. The nights that they had done this had prepared them for his. Fingers effortlessly popped open buttons and hooks. Ever since that morning both had carried the lingering effects of arousal all that day. When the last piece of clothing was removing Richard held out his hand palm up and extended it Isobel. She took it and began walking backwards pulling Richard along. The backs of her knees hit the bed, it had been so long. His mouth was nibbling along her neck and her own hands stroked down his back to anchor at his waist and pull him flush against her. She could feel him hard and insistent against her stomach. At the contact his mouth broke contact and he hissed.
"God, Isobel" he moaned.
She could see the effect she had on him and felt a heady rush of power. One of her hands left his back to touch his chest and then run down the midline until she encircled him. He grunted at her touch, she kept her pressure light and asked, "Tell me again."
He struggled to make his vocal cords work but he managed somehow, "You... me that bed, wrapped 'round one another." She stroked him again and his breath left his lungs in a rush. Isobel leaned forward whispering, "No space between us at all."
His mouth claimed hers and there was no more speaking, his hands began fulfilling the promise he had uttered earlier by wandering up the inside of her thigh. It was her turn to breath out harshly, his fingers touched her and she felt lightheaded. Allowing herself to fall backward she let the bed catch her. Nimbly he scrambled up after her. Arms and legs tangled together leaving no space between them. Richard's hands moved down again making sure his touch was gentle the final process of her reduction began.
Isobel hummed in contentment at feeling him fill her, the bones were set it was time for them to knit together. She kissed his lips before she moved her lips over his neck all the while he moved. Isobel's only thoughts were more and now. Richard thought he could almost hear her inside his head and did everything he could to grant her requests.
Hands were everywhere.
Mouths were everywhere
And on the small bed two human beings gave themselves over to pleasure.
The Abbey loomed and Richard approached it, he was going to assess his first patient of the day. His shoulder ached and he smiled in remembrance at the reason why. There had been no interruptions last night, no telephone calls, no banging on his door. Just the night shielding them as they made love. Richard closed his eyes and willed his body not to respond, he didn't need or want to embarrass himself at this moment.
He took a measured breath before ringing the bell. Carson, ushered him in and he climbed the stairs to Lady Sybil's room. She was nearing the end of her pregnancy. Lord and Lady Grantham had hired a private nurse to help care for Sybil. Upon entering the nurse handed him her notes which he reviewed. He then took her vital statistics before asking, "how are you?"
"Tired" she answered and Richard knew there was more than just tiredness going on.
"How are you?" He asked again his tone brokered no argument.
Her face crumpled, "Oh Dr. Clarkson, I feel as if everyone is waiting for me to do something. As if I have some control over this life inside me. I almost wish I would just stay pregnant."
"Why do you say that?" He asked softly.
"Tom wants the baby to baptized Catholic and I agree. However, we're in England not Ireland. I want to support my husband yet we are here with my family and it's just petty. I thought we were done with this when we married."
Richard nodded, he knew exactly what the this was that she was referring to. The class system, England's last hold on feudalism. Richard leaned in close like a conspirator and told her, "You can always talk to me."
Sybil smiled wide, "You should know Papa wanted to hire some ghastly obstetrician, I told him no, in fact we all did. I won't let anyone but you treat me and my child."
Watching the doctors face transform into a genuine smile pleased Sybil. It helped that Matthew, Mary, Edith, Mama and her husband were united behind her decision.
"We could hire Sir Phillip Tapsell, he could stay here and oversee the birth." Lord Grantham had said one night at dinner.
Cora looked puzzled, "Why not have doctor Clarkson? Is his our doctor and I believe he delivered Sybil himself."
"Yes, papa he knows us." Edith echoed.
Lord Grantham sighed and softly threw down his napkin onto the dining table, "Yes and he was wrong about Matthew."
At this Matthew opened his mouth in shock before saying, "He had a good reason for that and I don't begrudge him. Even Mother agreed with him. How long did it take for my swelling to go down?"
Playing his ace as it were Lord Robert eyed his son-in-law, "Matthew, what about Lavinia?"
Both Cora and Mary opened their mouths in shock, Mary turned to Matthew. They both knew the contributing factor in the death of Miss Swire but knew they couldn't reveal it. Even Carson was surprised at his Lordship's words. Mary then turned to her Mother and both talking over one another.
"Papa, that's not fair-"
"Robert, Spanish Flu changes on a dime."
Sybil had been sitting quietly at the table, while the babe inside her kicked in protest at all the noise. She clutched at Tom her eyes begging with him to help.
"Begging your pardon, but Sybil and I want Doctor Clarkson for the birth of our child, if you forbid him to come here. We'll stay at the Pub." Tom delivered and everyone knew he meant it.
Carson showed Dr. Clarkson to the door while below stairs unbeknownst to both of them Isobel Crawley was once again in Mrs. Hughes sitting room having gone through the servants entrance. The housekeeper had written to her contacts in other cities about positions for a housemaid. She was fairly certain that position could be obtained for Ethel. While Mrs. Hughes still wouldn't provide a reference for her, Ethel's previous letters of reference were still good. All Ethel needed to do was omit that she had ever worked at Downton Abbey. In one of the the other cities no one would ever know. The War could be given as an excuse of why there was a lapse in employment. Isobel dared to hope, this might work!
Isobel was warm, smooth skin pillowed her cheek. Her body felt weightless and she floated happily along enjoying the haze after making love. The phone rang and she turned her face into Richard's skin mumbling, "Oh, don't answer it!" He chuckled before groaning and she moved away so he could get up. Isobel watched with delight as his nude form went to answer the telephone. It was Downton Abbey on the line, Sybil Branson was experiencing pain, perhaps it was time. He dressed and wet his hands before running them hastily through his hair. When he deemed himself presentable he kissed Isobel before tucking the comforter around her. "Stay there, stay warm. Wait for me." Isobel heard his words and knew he wasn't just asking for just tonight.
When he arrived he was surrounded by women who all had or who once had the surname of Crawley. He inwardly chuckled that he too had a Crawley woman as his own. Sybil's sisters and her mother hovered near the foot of the bed. He came to Sybil, she looked at him with anticipation. He smiled reassuringly as he withdrew his stethoscope and sphygmomanometer, the cuff was applied so he could take her blood pressure. As the cuff was inflated he noted that she had been sweating He also could see that she was not shifting restlessly a sign that she was not actively contracting. Most likely it was case of Braxton Hicks contractions.
Sybil knew to be still during this,or the readings might be skewed. He removed the ear tips of his stethoscope letting the headset hang around his neck. He whispered to Sybil to ask about her contractions and she answered him in the same volume not wanting her mother or sisters to overhear. She then leaned in closer, "my pressure is high isn't it?"
Clarkson was stuffing his blood pressure cuff back into his bag, "higher than your normal, yes. Everything else about you is fine. I'll come back in the morning and check you again."
He then stood and addressed the other occupants of the room, "The pains have stopped. Nothing will happen yet." He told all the women watching as their shoulders sagged in relief and disappointment. As he left the room Cora asked what she could do to ease Sybil's nausea. For the past two days food had been coming up as fast as it had been going down and she was embarrassed about vomiting around others. "Bland foods, and those that are easy to digest will be less harsh on the stomach."
"Oh that's simple and I know what she likes." Lady Cora said happily.
Matthew, Tom and Lord Grantham were milling about on the landing, "Everything is fine, I'll be back in the morning." He called to them. Again he saw the same mixture of relief and disappointment. When Lord Grantham expressed his disgust at Clarkson's terminology Cora intervened and asked, "The question is can we call go back to bed."
"You can, and so can I." He said with a small smile what they didn't know was that his bed had Isobel Crawley warm and nude waiting for him.
A/N: I'm not a mind reader, please let me know what you liked and what you didn't.