Thank you all so very much for reading and for all the lovely reviews. It's greatly appreciated. :) I haven't had the time to write the last few days, and I won't have time to write before Friday. I haven't written chapter 12 yet, and don't know how fast I'll be able to have it written, once I have the time to write again. Therefore it'll probably be a while, before a new chapter is posted. However, since chapter 11 was done, I thought I'd post it now that I have the time. :)
To Guest: Thank you for thinking the story is great. :)
I wish you all a very Merry Christmas. :)
Chapter 11
Richard walked into his cottage and hung his hat up while putting his bag on the table in the hallway. He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, as he made his way towards the kitchen.
Since his conversation with Violet he'd spent most of his time at the hospital. He had wanted to keep his mind off of the fact that Lord Merton was going to propose to Isobel. And so he'd gone to the hospital earlier in the morning than usual and arrived home much later, than he was used to. However, unfortunately there hadn't been many patients at the hospital, or people coming in for appointments, and even the housecalls had been few and far between. That had meant that the majority of his time had been spent in his office reading medical journals, which unfortunately meant that he'd still thought a lot about Isobel and Lord Merton.
During the first week his staff had left him alone, but it hadn't gone unnoticed by him that they had started giving him curious looks. At the start of the second week a few of the nurses had started asking, if he was alright. But he'd assured them that everything was fine, and they'd left him alone after that, though the worried looks hadn't stopped. Because of that he'd started arriving a little later and gone home earlier the last few days, but he'd still kept on reading medical journals when he'd come home.
He was about to reach for a glass in his cupboard to get a glass of water, when there was a knock on his front door. Making his way back to the front door, he hoped that he was needed for an emergency, as he'd be glad of any distraction to take his mind off of Isobel.
But when he opened the door, he came face to face with the last person that he expected to see.
He stared dumbfounded for a few moments before finding his voice. "Mrs. Crawley," he said utterly shocked.
"Good evening, Dr. Clarkson," she greeted him cheerfully. "I'm sorry to bother you at home," she told him smiling.
"That's quite alright," he said still completely surprised that she was there.
"Can I come in?" she asked after a few moments of silence.
He shook his head and offered her an apologetically smile. "Yes, of course. Come in," he said opening the door wider to let her in. "Let me take your coat," he offered once she was inside.
"Thank you," she said letting him take her coat and allowing him to hang it up.
Still feeling stupefied at her presence in his cottage, he had to shake his head one more time, when he felt that he was staring stupidly at her.
"Forgive my manners," he apologized with a smile, but she dismissed it with a shake of her head. "If you'll come this way," he said gesturing for her to follow him.
"Of course."
He let her in to the sitting room turning on the lights as he entered. Holding the door open for her, she entered letting him close the door behind her. He looked at her for a moment watching her take in the surroundings, before he shook himself from his thoughts.
"I apologize if it's a bit too cold. I only just arrived home a short while ago, so I'm afraid I haven't had the time to start a fire," he said once again smiling apologetically.
She shook her head smiling. "That's quite alright."
"Let me just start the fire, and then we can talk," he told her.
"Alright," she said nodding. He gave a nod as well as he walked over to start the fire, while she looked around the room again. "Busy day at the hospital?" she asked after a few moments of silence.
"No, not at all," he replied. "In fact it's been rather quiet lately."
"Oh?" she said turning back towards him. She then titled her head to the side in thought. "Then why did you only just arrive home?" she asked curiously. "I would've thought with not much work to do, you would have been able to leave sooner."
Swallowing hard at her question he focused on the fire for a few moments, so that he could come up with a plausible excuse. He knew that if he looked at her directly, she'd more than likely be able to tell that he was lying.
"I was reading medical journals," he finally said after a few moments of silence, and then turned to look at her. "I guess, I just lost track of the time," he said with a shrug and smiled a little. He was glad to see that it seemed that she believed him. Turning his attention back to the fire, he had it lit a few seconds later. "There," he said as he stood up. "That should make the room nice and warm in a minute or so."
"That sounds lovely," she told him smiling.
He smiled back at her. "Can I get you something to drink?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No, not at the moment, but thank you," she told him kindly.
He nodded in response. "Please, have a seat," he told her gesturing to his armchair closets to the fire.
"Thank you," she said as she walked over and sat down.
He sat down as well sitting down in the middle of the sofa that was in front of the fire.
"I must admit that I'm quite surprised to see you. I would've thought, you would be in London for a long time still," he told her still very puzzled of not only her presence in Downton, but also of her presence in his home. "And I must admit that I'm also rather puzzled as to why, you've come to see me," he said knitting his brow in confusion.
"Well, unexpected events occurred that required me to change my plans," she explained. "Life altering really," she said smiling brightly. "So I felt it necessary to come back to Downton as soon as possible to start making arrangements so to speak."
"I see," he said nodding slowly. "And what are these life altering plans then, if I may ask?" He feared he knew what the answer would be, and he mentally prepared himself for the worst moment of his life.
"Lord Merton asked me to marry him," she told him smiling happily.
Although this was the answer he expected, the knowledge of knowing the answer could not have prepared him for how it made him feel hearing the words coming from Isobel's lips. It felt like his heart was torn into a million pieces without the hope of it ever being mended.
Realizing he'd actually stopped breathing, Richard quickly took a couple of deep breaths through his nose, when he felt his lungs needed oxygen. Feeling that his emotions would take over any minute, and that he might break down, he quickly forced himself to smile hoping that it would convince her that he was happy for her.
"Congratulations," he said trying to sound cheerful, though he knew that his voice was thick with emotions that were anything but cheerful. "I'm happy for you," he told her.
He felt he needed to say more and that he would have, if he truly didn't love her. That if she really was only a friend to him, he would've sounded much more enthusiastically. But he just couldn't get any other words out.
Her smile faded and she narrowed her eye at him questioningly. "Are you really happy?" she asked.
Taken aback by her sudden change, Richard blinked a few times but then tried his best to offer her a smile again. "Yes, of course I am," he told her.
Isobel pursed her lips in thought. "Hmm," she commented tilting her head to the side in the process, and then sat up a little straighter. "Funny you should say that, because that's not exactly what Cousin Violet told me."
For the second time with only a few moments apart, Richard stopped breathing for a few seconds. He gaped and stared wide eyed for what seemed ages, before finally finding his voice.
"What?" he replied completely shocked. He then blinked hard a few times and then shook his head. "I don't know what the Dowager has told you," he said looking away nervously for a minute, but then felt he had to look at her again.
"Well," she said slowly, "then allow me to remind you. She told me all about the conversation, she'd had with you on the day we left for London," she told him bluntly. "Do you know now?"
He gaped at her again. "I….I…" he trailed off not knowing what to say. He then shook his head. "You can't believe everything, she tells you."
"You and I both know that if she was here, she'd tell you that she's never wrong," she reminded him. "Though I don't always agree with that, I do believe she's right in this case." She looked at him carefully. "So is she right?" she asked.
He shut his eyes tightly and breathed deeply. "Mrs. Crawley, please," he pleaded. "You can't ask me that."
"I think you'll find that I actually can, and that I'm rather entitled to an answer," she told him with a slight edge to her tone that he wasn't making this easier. When there was a long pause she got a bit more frustrated. "I would appreciate an answer," she told him a bit more sharply.
"It's not that simple," he told her.
Now she gaped at him getting more irritated with his reluctance to give her a straight answer. "It is that simple. She's either right or she's wrong. So which one is it?"
He groaned slightly at her relentlessness. "Mrs. Crawley, please do not…I cannot….it's really not…" he sighed deeply and got up from his seat and started pacing his sitting room a bit away from her. He stopped after a few moments with his back to her.
Exasperated with his behavior Isobel got up from her seat as well, and stopped a few feet away from him.
"Yes or no?" she asked him sharply. "Is what Cousin Violet told me about your conversation with her at the hospital true or not?" she demanded.
He sighed deeply and hung his head before reluctantly turning around after a few moments. Opening his eyes slowly he straightened his head a little and looked at her defeated.
"If she told you everything that we talked about, then yes. It's all true," he finally admitted.
"Well, one could hardly tell with the way you've been acting of late," she said still rather annoyed.
He blinked confusedly not expecting that reaction at all. "What do you mean?" he asked knitting his brow in confusion.
"For one thing you were rather curt with me, on the day we left for London," she told him.
"I explained myself to you, when you came to the hospital," he reminded her gently though she had still sounded irritated.
"Yes, thank you, I do remember that conversation very well," she told him with an edge to her tone, which actually caused him to roll his eyes slightly. "But how could I possibly know that you cared, when it seemed you stopped caring long before that?"
"Stopped caring?" he asked completely surprised. "I never stopped caring," he told her imploringly. "I know we haven't spent much time together in the recent months. We've had plans that we've had to cancel due to my work," he reminded her. "You've also been at the Abbey a lot," he then said. "And then of course you've been spending a lot of time with Lord Merton," he told her a bit more quietly.
"I'm not talking about all of that," she told him a bit sharply. "It happened long before all of that."
He blinked being shocked by her words. "Before all of that?" She nodded in response. "When exactly? I don't remember anything like that at all."
"Oh honestly!" she exclaimed frustrated throwing her hands up into the air. He gaped at her reaction, but then crossed his arms over his chest getting irritated now, too. "Does the matter of young Pegg ring any bells?" she asked him frustrated.
"What about Pegg?" he asked now with an edge to his own tone.
"You," she pointed a finger at him accusingly, "came to me to ask for help to find work for Pegg. Which I did," she stated firmly. "But the minute," she went on without giving him the chance to respond, which caused him to roll his eyes again, "Cousin Violet thought that he was stealing, you took her side.
"I did not," he tried to argue.
"You did!" she stated matter-of-factly. "When she accused him of stealing her precious paper knife, you told her that someone could keep watch over him, whenever he entered the house."
"That was for his own protection," he tried arguing again. "No one could accuse him of stealing anything, if someone was with him at all times," he tried to reason.
"Would you honestly have asked for my help finding him work, if you'd had the feeling that he was going to steal?" she asked rather angrily.
"No, bu.."
"Then I don't see why," she said cutting him off, "there was the need for someone to watch his every move," she argued back strongly, which made him roll his eyes again. "And then let us not forget what happened, when we showed up at her home after I proved that he wasn't a thief!" she reminded him sharply. "You defended her again!"
"It's not the Dowager's fault that you didn't allow yourself to find out, in a more calming manner that she'd hired him back and apologized to him," he reminded her.
She gaped at him for a moment and then groaned in frustration. "There you go defending her again, and she's not even here!" she accused.
He threw his arms out in frustration and then placed them on his hips. "So I'm not allowed to have my own opinion?" he asked annoyed.
"Of course, you are," she told him. "But then answer me this," she told him with a raised eyebrow. "Do you ever feel that you must agree with Cousin Violet, because she is who she is? And what about Cousin Robert and Cousin Cora?" she asked still with an edge to her tone. "Do you feel that you can't disagree with them, because of their titles?" He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but then hung his head letting his arms fall to his sides. "I think that says it all," she concluded.
He groaned. "I'm not exactly in a position to argue with them. Surely you can understand that?" he asked.
"Of course, I understand," she said nodding her head though still not relenting on her frustrations. "But is it then any wonder I thought that you didn't care?" she asked a bit angrily. "Telling me to hold my horses in front of Cousin Violet, and giving that ridiculous remark that it was game, set, and match to her!" she said irritated while shaking her head in the process. "Is it any wonder, I thought you'd stopped caring?" she argued strongly.
"But I did tell you that I cared about you! Several times in fact!" he argued back just as strongly. "Or I tried to at least," he argued though a little less strongly.
She blinked in surprise. "When exactly did you do that?" she demanded to know. "I remember no such thing!"
"One time was with young Pegg in fact," he told her and then went on when she remained silent, but told him with her eyes to tell her. "You didn't think that the family saw you as part of them," he reminded her and she nodded in recognition. "I then told you that if it served you to feel so unloved, nothing I said would make any difference," he told her. "So in other words, if I'd told you how I felt about you, you wouldn't have believed me!" he explained matter-of-factly.
She shook her head frustrated. "How was I to know that that was what you meant?" she argued. "You told me that the village saw me as part of the family, so I assumed that you had included yourself in that."
"I did!" he told her. "But I assumed you would know that I cared more than that," he said rather annoyed that she hadn't understood that then. "Especially considering what had nearly happened between us long before that," he explained.
She furrowed her brow completely confused. "What in heaven's name are you talking about?"
He rolled his eyes not believing he had to remind her of something, he'd rather forget. Her rejection that day had been too painful. However, seeing as it seemed he had to explain, he took a calming breath.
"The fair in Thirsk," he reminded her. "I nearly proposed, but you turned me down because you didn't feel the same way."
She gasped in shock and stared wide eyed at him. "You were going to propose to me?" she asked in disbelief.
He blinked taken aback by her surprise. "Of course! Who else was I going to propose to?" he asked brows furrowing in confusion by her response.
"I don't know," she told him shrugging and shaking her head still not believing, what she was hearing.
He blinked at her again. "You honestly didn't know?" he asked shocked.
"No, I didn't," she told him shaking her head and talking more calmly. "I thought you had taken an interest in a widow in the village, and that you were merely asking for my opinion on what I would do, if I were in that position," she explained. "And," she said a bit more carefully biting her bottom lip for a second, "I didn't want you to take an interest in another woman, so I lied hoping that it would stop you from proposing," she told him looking down for a moment but then looked back up at him again . "You didn't exactly make it clear that I was the one, you wanted to propose to. You hadn't exactly been clear about your feelings for me before the fair," she admonished gently.
He stared even more wide eyed realizing what she was possibly admitting. "So if I had been more clear about my feelings," he ventured slowly, "you would've felt differently?" he asked carefully.
His heart seemed to stop again waiting for her answer, which seemed to take forever in his mind.
She finally nodded. "Yes," she admitted truthfully but quietly.
He closed his eyes tightly and let out a shuddering breath. "Oh god, I'm such a fool," he said giving out a bitter chuckle. "If only I'd known. If only I'd been more clear then maybe…" he trailed off shaking his head. "And now it's too late," he said quietly. "You're going to marry Lord Merton," he said sadly.
"No, I'm not," she said quietly.
However, he heard her clearly and snapped his head up staring intently at her.
"What?" he asked. When she smiled a little and started to shake her head, he stared dumbfounded. "But you said that he had proposed."
"And he did," she told him. "But I never agreed to marry him, and I never told you that I had," she said.
He furrowed his brow in confusion. "But you've been courting him these many months."
She rolled her eyes. "No, I haven't," she told him. "But it seems that you, Lord Merton, and just about everyone else think that we had been courting."
"But you hadn't been courting?" he asked still not daring to believe that there was still hope for them.
"No!" she told him firmly. She then sighed and calmed down. "I merely thought of him as a friend, and thought that we'd been spending time together as friends," she told him. "I never even as much as held his hand. So I was rather shocked when he not only proposed but also thought that we'd been courting," she explained.
He nodded slowly and then opened his mouth a few times not really knowing, if he had the right to ask or not. Deciding he might as well ask to set his mind at ease, he took a deep breath.
"You never considered marrying him?" he asked not being able to hide his nervousness completely.
She smiled a little at his behavior, and then shook her head. "No," she told him gently. "I was so shocked when he wanted to marry me that I told him straight out that I didn't want to marry him. But" she then went on more carefully, "when I'd then explained to him why I thought we'd never courted, which he then understood, he did ask me again. He was hoping that if we married, I would with time grow to care for him the way he cared for me."
She watched him take deep steady breaths.
"But you turned him down even then," he concluded.
She nodded in response. "I did," she said. "I could never marry for companionship only, and I knew in my heart that I could never love him," she told him a bit quietly but smiled a little more.
Seeing her smiling like that and the way she spoke gave him hope, and he took a step closer to her.
"Really?" he asked softly.
"Really," she replied just as softly also taking a step closer to him.
He took another tentatively step closer to her. "What about someone else?" he asked. "Is there room in your heart for another man besides Reginald?" he asked hopeful taking another step closer to her, coming to stand only two steps away from being able to reach out to her.
However, when she shook her head, his heart and hopes fell. "No, there's no room left," she told him.
He nodded slowly. "I see," he said sadly and hung his head again.
But when he heard her give a light chuckle, he looked up at her again confusion evident on his face. "Evidently you don't," she told him smiling. "A part of my heart will always belong to Reginald," she simply said knowing that she didn't need to explain carefully, because he would understand. "But the other part of my heart belongs to a man, I've known almost eleven years." He started smiling lovingly at her, and she returned the smiled as she went on. "He's been my dearest friend for so many years, but for a long time now I've felt more for him than just friendship." Both their smiles widened at the same time. "And although I believed that he didn't feel the same way about me, as I did about him that part of my heart would always belong to him," she told him imploringly and with a voice thick with emotion now. "That part of my heart belongs to you," she said finally reaching out her hand for him.
Hearing her words and seeing her reaching out her hand to him, he sighed in relief and in happiness. He then took the last two steps towards her taking her hand in his intertwining their fingers. Watching her reaction to his action, he was happy to see her smiling more lovingly at him, which gave him the last courage he needed. He then raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
When he both saw and heard her happiness from kissing her hand, he tugged at her hand bringing her a little closer, as he took another step towards her. Standing now toe to toe he placed the hand he was holding on his chest over his heart. He then gently raised his other hand to her face reaching out and cupped her cheek, running his thumb across it.
She closed her eyes for a moment leaning into his touch, and then opened them a moment later to find that he was smiling at her tenderly.
"And my heart," he said softly, "belongs to you," he said smiling lovingly. "Isobel," he nearly whispered trying out her name hesitantly, but seeing her smiling even wider, he felt more assured. "Isobel," he said more confident, "I love you," he told her voice thick with emotion.
"Richard," she responded more softly than he'd ever heard her before. She then reached her free hand up to caress his own cheek. "I love you, too," she said with a voice full of love.
He closed his eyes for a moment at hearing her words. He then turned his head to kiss the inside of her hand, and then turned it back to look at her. Seeing no objection in her eyes he leaned in slowly. Taking his lead she leaned in as well and their lips finally met in a soft kiss.
One kiss led to another and to several after that with the first one being innocent to the last one being more exploring. When they needed to break for air, they had their arms around each other holding one another tightly. Richard then hugged her to him, resting his head against hers. When he heard her sighing contently, he kissed her temple.
"I can't believe we're here like this after all these years," he told her. "I dreamed of this, but never thought it would actually happen."
"Nor did I," she said. "But I'm so very happy."
"So am I," he said kissing her temple again.
"And I'm so happy we're getting married," she said happily. She felt him stiffen, and a second later he pulled back and stared wide eyed at her. Her face fell at the expression on his face. "I just assumed…" she tried explaining. "I thought that after everything…" she said with a shrug. When he still gave no response, she sighed. Placing her hands on his chest she shook her head looking down. "Please just forget what I said," she told him trying to pull away
However, he quickly placed one hand over both of her hands, and placed the other arm around her waist pulling her back to him firmly and holding her tightly.
Surprised by his action she looked at him, and gasped slightly at the deep love and emotions she saw reflected in his eyes and at the smile on his lips.
Richard knew that if circumstances had been different, he would have planned a different proposal. He would have planned something romantic, or as romantic as he thought he could get. If it had been during the spring he imagined they would have had a picnic, and he would have proposed among the flowers in bloom. If it had been during the summer they would possibly have had dinner in his back garden in the evening, and he would have proposed afterwards with nothing but the stars and moon for light. Had it been during autumn he imagined he would have proposed in the forest among the trees with all the leaves in different colors, and then have gone home to have a nice dinner. Or if it had been during the winter, he could imagine that he'd taken her out for a late night walk after dinner and he would have proposed in a snow covered field with the lights from the village visible in the far distance.
He also knew that if circumstances were different, he would possibly have bought a ring or another gift as an acknowledgement of their engagement. More than likely he would also have gotten down on one knee, when asking for her hand after giving a long speech about how much he loved her, and how she made him feel.
However, he knew that everything leading up to a proposal, and how it was done didn't matter in the slightest. There would be plenty of chances for romantic moments, plenty of dinners and picnics shared outside, plenty of walks together at any time of the year, and plenty of opportunities to tell her how she made him feel, and how much he loved her. And while he might have liked to have had a ring for her, he also knew that she cared very little for material things, so that was of little concern to him as well.
The only thing that truly mattered would be the answer he hoped for to his proposal. But given her response a moment ago, he knew he didn't need to fear a rejection.
"Isobel, will you marry me?" he asked her plainly yet softly and lovingly.
Her smile was immediate knowing that he wasn't just asking, because she had thought that they were already getting married. She knew that he was being truthful and sincere, and that was all she needed and wanted.
"Yes," she answered happily not being able to contain her emotions but not caring one bit about it. "Oh yes, Richard," she answered again and once again meeting his lips halfway sealing their engagement with a kiss.
When they broke apart he took her face in his hands, and planted soft kisses all over her face, before realizing something.
"Have you eaten yet?" he asked her letting go of her face, and once again placing his arms around her waist.
She blinked surprised at the question for a moment, but then chuckled. "No," she said shaking her head. "I haven't actually," she told him.
"You didn't even pack some sandwiches for the long train ride?" he questioned.
"There was no time for that. Everyone was still at Rosamund's when I showed up, and after Cousin Violet told me about your feelings," he grimaced a bit at that, "I made up my mind to come straight here. I had Rosamund book me a ticket for the first train leaving for Downton, which left London less than an hour later." However, he smiled at that touched that she'd left so suddenly. "Tom then drove me to Grantham House with Mary and Edith, who helped me pack some of my things, and then all three took me to the train station to see me off."
"What about when you came to Downton?" he asked while caressing her back affectionately.
"No," she said. "Mary told me that she would make sure that there would be someone to pick me up at the train station," she explained. "When the chauffeur picked me up, I told him to take me straight to Crawley House. After he left, I hurried upstairs to wash up a bit and to change my clothes. I didn't even think about getting anything to eat," she said with a shrug and a smile.
"So you came straight here?" he asked still amazed at her resolute decisions, since finding out about his feelings.
"Not exactly," she said and he nodded for her to continue. "Before coming here I went to the graveyard to visit Matthew. I wanted to tell him about my news," she told him smiling, and he returned the smile. "You know it's funny," she said after a moment. "There were fresh flowers on his grave, and I have no idea who could've done that."
"I did that," he told her sheepishly.
"You did?" she asked completely surprised.
He nodded in affirmation. "I know how you go to the graveyard once a week to place fresh flowers on his grave. But you wouldn't be able to do that for a long time, while being in London," he explained. "So I thought, I would do it for you," he said shrugging. When she gaped at him, he thought he'd done the wrong thing. "I'm so sorry," he apologized immediately. "I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries or be impertinent. If I've offended you, I hope you can forgive me because I meant no harm," he told her almost pleadingly.
She blinked a few times to keep the tears away, almost overcome with his beautiful gesture. "No, Richard, you did nothing wrong," she told him shaking her head smiling. "You dear sweet man, you did nothing wrong," she told him again and then cupped his face with her hands drawing him to her, and kissed him soundly. "If you only knew what your beautiful gesture means to me," she said when they broke apart. "If you only knew."
"Well," he said taking a deep breath, regaining control of himself after that kiss. "I'm glad it made you happy," he told her relieved that she hadn't been offended.
"It did," she said smiling. "Very much so. I'm deeply touched," she told him genuinely.
"I'm glad," he told her again smiling. "Now about something to eat," he reminded her a short moment later. "I didn't eat at the hospital, and had intended to start making something, when you showed up," he explained. "So how about we go to the kitchen and make ourselves something, and we can talk about everything that has happened?"
She nodded smiling. "I like the sound of that," she told him softly.
"Good," he simply but softly said. He then took her hand in his giving it a gentle squeeze. Feeling her squeezing his hand back in return, they made their way to the kitchen.
TBC