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And then she was in Richard's arms. She wasn't standing any more, they were lying down, and the hard wooden of the hall dissolved into softness. She could not see what they were lying on, and did not care; only knowing that it was soft, warm, that it was safe. Richard was safe, he was next to her. She gasped quietly. She felt him brush his fingers along her hair and smile. He was alive! Lying close to his chest she could feel his heart beating next to hers. He was here with her, and he was still smiling, and then he was kissing her. She sighed in contentedness which quickly turned into a moan as he rolled his weight over hers.

"Richard," she murmured, "Oh Richard."

He did not speak, only kissing her again in reply.

"Oh, my darling," she whispered between kisses, "Thank you for coming back. Thank you."

She clung to his arms as his hands opened her blouse, meaning never to let go. His hand caressed her shoulders and her collarbone.

"I love you so much," she whispered, "I love you, I love you, Richard."

He kissed the sobs out of her voice. She gasped throatily, her lips shuddering against his. Her fingers brushed through his hair, revelling in the feeling of his skin under her nails. He was kissing her chest and she was gasping, and-...

"Mrs Crawley! Mrs Crawley!"

She woke groggily. Still, she was lying on something soft, but not in the same place.

"Where am I?" she asked breathlessly, sitting up abruptly.

A hand reached out and touched her shoulder, encouraging her to lie back down. Her eyes began to focus as she leant backwards. It was Mrs Hughes.

"You fainted," the housekeeper told her gently, "I said I'd sit with you. You sounded distressed, so I woke you."

"I fainted?" Isobel asked, "How long for?"

"You were unconscious for a little while," Mrs Hughes replied, "By the time Mr Carson had carried you up here you seemed to be sleeping, though. You slept for about three hours."

"I'm sorry," she responded automatically, "I hope I didn't keep you from your work."

"They can manage without be for a few hours, I dare say," Mrs Hughes told her, "And you needed someone to stay with you."

"I wish Richard had been here," she said, without thinking, "I'd liked him to have stayed."

And then it hit her, she remembered. She remembered everything. She let out a little gasp, pressed her hand to her lips. Mrs Hughes watched her face carefully. Isobel stared at the light for the window. How could she have forgotten? How did it slip her mind for a single moment?

"You were talking to him," Mrs Hughes murmured after a while, "In your sleep."

"Oh," Isobel muttered in reply, flushing a little.

"Don't worry," Mrs Hughes told her, "It wasn't-... I won't say anything."

"We weren't lovers, you know," Isobel blurted out, feeling the need to explain.

Mrs Hughes raised her eyebrow just a fraction.

"Oh?"

"I mean," Isobel continued, "Everyone probably thinks we were, after what I said. But we weren't. He-... wouldn't. He wanted to wait until we were married. He was absurdly old fashion about things sometimes," she smiled a little, remembering some of the conversations they had had, "He would hold me, kiss me. Once or twice he even-..." she flushed deeply as her mouth formed the words, euphemistic as they were, "Did things for me. But we never made love. We'll never make love."

She hardly got the words out, she dissolved as they formed in her mind. She raised a hand to cover her mouth, clasping it hard to stifle her sobs. Mrs Hughes only watched, letting her cry it out. It sickened her, that a love as intense as theirs could go unconsummated. If only she could live it all again, not a moment would be wasted.

"I'm sorry," she gasped at last.

"Don't be," Mrs Hughes told her immediately, "You have nothing to be sorry for. I think you're the one who is owed an apology. Here," se handed her the handkerchief she kept in her pocket.

Isobel took it and wiped her eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured.

There was a knock at the door. Mrs Hughes glanced at Isobel and waited for her nod before going to answer it.

"It's your son," she told her.

"Come in, Matthew," she called.

Matthew entered and Mrs Hughes gave him her chair by the bed before slipping outside.

"How are you, Mother?" he asked, "I came as soon as I heard."

"I've seen better days, my dear," she told him sadly.

He gave her a sad smile in reply.

"Mother, I've had an idea," he told her.

"Oh, yes," she asked, a little disinterestedly, "What is it?"

"Would you like to get away from here?" he asked, "For a week or so?"

"It's a nice thought," she replied, "But I can't bear to leave the hospital," she told him, "It would be wrong of me."

"What if you were to accept a temporary post at another hospital?" he asked her.

She was silent.

"You see, I've been ordered to go and visit the commander of the Oxford regiment," he explained, "The military hospital at the old Examination Schools is short of staff, and they said they'd be glad of your help while you can offer it. If you want, of course, only if you want. Form what Cousin Robert said it would do you some good to get away. Apparently you were rather short with Cousin Violet."

"I'm always short with Cousin Violet," she reminded him, with a weary smile.