Isobel woke, her heart hammering against the ribs in her chest. She had woken every night like this for a week. Disgusted that she was covered with sweat she ran a bath at a quarter to four in the morning.
Yesterday at the hospital there were whispers heard about Ethel. Most of the them were vague references, so far they hadn't named named yet the implication was there. A whore was in the village. Being in the hospital was torture for Isobel and for Richard too. They longed to be together. In the end Isobel had left she couldn't bear it. With Ethel in her home she couldn't work at the shelter either since she had to be at Crawley House. As Isobel bathed she found she was angry. She hadn't slept well in a week and she hadn't eaten well either. Her hands curled around the soap, too much pressure was applied and soap shot out of her hand. She grunted before forming a fist and pounding the water, the water rose in a violent splash. She knew it was childlike and stupid but she couldn't help it.
Richard had fallen asleep at his desk, his neck was stiff and he was cold. He hadn't been to his cottage for Isobel was not there. He hadn't washed his sheets, he couldn't stand the thought of washing away her scent but being surrounded by it was agony. It was easier to stay at the hospital and work.
"Did you hear about Tom's announcement at breakfast? He wants the child to be a left-footer." Lord Grantham said as he barged into the drawing room where his wife and Edith were having a break.
"Papa, I know it's hard." Edith began before she was rudely cut off by her father.
"There hasn't been a Catholic Crawley since the Reformation." Lord Grantham said in a teacher like tone.
Cora didn't look up from her copy of Vogue, "She isn't a Crawley. She's a Branson."
Sometimes the American attitude of his wife irked him, today he let his ire show, "The only chance that child will have of achieving anything is because of the blood of her mother."
At this Cora did look up her face set into a determined visage, "Well, I don't agree."
Isobel felt trapped in her home and was finding every excuse to leave Crawley House. A letter had arrived for Matthew and she decided that she should hand deliver it to the Abbey.
She was surprised when Mary answered the door instead of Carson, "Have you come for dinner?"
What she didn't know was that Mary was hiding , not wanting to be with their "guest".
Isobel felt shame that she was desperate to say yes just to have a decent meal, "No. I'm dressed quite wrongly, and you have a guest."
Mary rolled her eyes and Isobel felt a pang of sadness for it reminded her of Richard, "I doubt Mr Travis has much of an eye for fashion. Oh, do stay. We need cheering up."
In the library before dinner Isobel had wished she had said no she kept to herself in the corner. Matthew saw this and knew something was wrong, he covertly asked Carson to ring for Dr. Clarkson and have him come to the Abbey at his earliest convenience. The gong was rung, it was time for dinner.
"Isn't there something or other un-English about the Roman Church?" Cousin Violet lilted.
"Since I am an Irishman, that's not likely to bother me" Tom said without Malice, he rather liked Cousin Violet at least she always said exactly what was on her mind. There was no cloak and dagger nonsense..
"I cannot feel bells and incense and all the rest of that pagan fodder is pleasing to God." Travis said with an air of disgust.
No one seemed able to speak.
"So is he not pleased by the population of France or Italy?" Matthew asked and Isobel felt pride at her son's words
Reverend Travis smiled deviously, "Not as pleased as he is by the worship of the Anglicans."
Edith was still bitter over her treatment by her family over her offer to write for a magazine and added, "South America, Portugal - have they missed the mark, too? I do not mean to sound harsh."
"I'm sure there are many individuals from those lands who please him." Travis said in concession.
Isobel laughed, "We haven't started on the non-Christians, the whole Indian subcontinent for example!"
A genuine smile lit up the Reverend's face making it seem eerie, "Yes but the British Empire will aid in their salvation. I must say that reminds me is it because of the Empress of India that you gave your daughter an Indian name?"
Tom put down his napkin, "Our daughter's name is pronounced Row-a. From radharc it means a vision. To be honest it was Dr. Clarkson who gave me the idea. After he had saved them both he looked at our baby and said, 'A vision that one.'"
Sybil and Tom beamed at one another the love between them obvious. The moment was sweet but didn't last.
"Poor Mr Travis, you're all ganging up on him." Lord Grantham said with a laugh.
"You and Granny are ganging up against Tom." Mary informed.
Cousin Violet bristled "Not me! The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk is a dear friend. And she's more Catholic than the Pope! I simply do not think that it would help the baby to be baptized into a different tribe from this one."
Ignoring the kick from his wife Tom said softly, "She will be baptized into my tribe."
"Honestly everyone I don't mind" Sybil said exasperatedly .
"I'm flabbergasted." Violet declared.
"You're always flabbergasted by the unconventional." Isobel declared.
"I've no wish to persecute Catholics, but I find it hard to believe they're loyal to the crown." Travis said.
Isobel looked puzzled before asking, "I'm sorry. Please remind me were British Catholics spared from conscription then during the war?"
Tom covered his laugh by taking a sip of water.
Reverend Travis was undisturbed by the fact that he would clearly not be baptizing the newest member at Downton. Instead he turned to Isobel and reached for his own glass, "Let's switch topics, tell me Mrs. Crawley how is your new servant working?"
His emphasis on the word working made Isobel shiver.
Matthew was confused, "New servant?"
Isobel chose her words carefully, "Mrs. Bird has gone back to Manchester."
She hoped that would be enough to for Matthew to drop the conversation it would have been if Travis hadn't said, "My next sermon is going to be about Mary Magdalene perhaps your maid would like to attend?"
No one missed his meaning.
After dinner Reverend Travis fled leaving Isobel at the mercy of her "family".
Everyone had an opinion, some were shouted and some weren't. Most of the family wasn't concerned with Ethel it was the fact that her presence looked bad on them, that scandal might touch them. Blissfully unaware that scandal wouldn't probably wouldn't have them starve to death a fate the Ethel faced daily. There was someone at the door, Carson went to let them in.
"So in your whole life you've never made a mistake that required help from someone else in order to save you?" Isobel asked her voice high and sharp. She leveled her gaze first at Mary whose cheeks burned with shame over the recollection of Mr. Pamuk and Sir Richard Carlisle, she then looked at Lord Grantham who held her gaze before looking away. His gamble on the Canadian railroad which necessitated Matthew's involvement to save the very dwelling they were in. Matthew not wanting to see his mother's laser like gaze simply stared at his shoes, a holdover from when he was younger. Sybil and Tom were frozen on the spot they had never seen Isobel so fired up.
In the entryway Richard heard Isobel's voice and began racing towards it. He entered the library to see his love shaking with blind fury.
"Oh I see, it's fine for you." Rage was burning through her and she felt her hand closing in a fist, what she had forgotten was that she was currently holding a glass of sherry. The glass shattered and the alcohol soaked into the fresh cuts in her hands burning them. She didn't even flinch. Only Dr. Clarkson responded and came to her side whispering something that others could not hear. He then led her away.
A/N: I wish to say thank you once again to those who have reviewed, it really helps.