Five days! It had been 5 days and still he had no interaction with Isobel. She was supposed to cover a shift at the hospital yesterday but she sent a note to Nurse Smith explaining that due to her impending trip to London, she needed to spend the day packing. It was rather a poor excuse but the Nurses didn't mind. Isobel did more than her share of the work around the hospital.

He desperately wanted to seek her out but he didn't want to pressure her. He knew she was leaving for London later that day and he couldn't let another week go by without having any idea of where they stood. Also, she was going to London to spend the week with Lord Merton, and he was VERY uncomfortable about that.

Finally he resorted to a letter. He spent about three hours and multiple whiskeys in the wee hours of the previous evening composing the letter to Isobel and was now trying to figure out the best way to get it into her hands before she boarded the train for London. As he approached her cottage, Lord Grantham's chauffeur was lining up her luggage next to the boot of the car. When the chauffeur went inside to grab the remaining suitcase, Richard made a quick decision.

He opened her trunk and saw a most elegant dress lying on top. Clearly this was what she planned to wear at the wedding. He laid the note on top, shut the case, and made his way quickly down the path in the opposite direction of the train station.

XXXX

Isobel had finally made it to Lord Grantham's home later that evening and she was exhausted. The servants lead her straight to the dining room for a late super while they brought her things to her room. She ate quickly and headed to her room to relax as tomorrow she would meet Lord Merton after breakfast and accompany him to the church for the wedding rehearsal.

When she got to her room, the house maid had just finished unpacking. "Mrs Crawely" she began, "I found a letter in your trunk, it must have fallen in while you were packing"

Isobel looked at the letter as the maid handed it over and was a mixture of surprise and shock. That was until she recognized the elegant handwriting on the front of the letter. She grasped at the letter with both hands, startling the maid with her forcefulness. She recovered quickly saying "Oh dear, thank you, I thought I had lost it".

The maid excused herself and the door was barely closed when Isobel ripped open the letter. Before she started reading she pressed it to her chest in fear. What would he say? What did she want him to say? Judging by the size of the letter, she felt many of her questions would soon be answered so she finally sat down on her bed and held the letter before her.

My dearest Isobel,

I am hoping that you can help me with a slight problem I am having. I seem to have misplaced something, well actually someone, and since this person is very dear to me, I was hoping that while you were in London you could assist me in located this person. Please be on the lookout for the following woman.

First, she is the bravest woman I know. She has faced many challenges in her life and has faced them head on. I think she would stand up to the King himself, if she felt that he was not in the right. Lately, however, she seems to have lost her fortitude, and I pray that she continues to be brave as the future is uncertain, but the one certainty I know, is that I will always be there for her in whatever capacity she wishes.

She is also an extremely honest person. It is the trait I love and fear in her. She will always tell me exactly how she feels, even if they are not always the words I want to hear. Lately, however, she seems to keep her true thoughts and feelings from me and I want her to know that even if she feels that what she has to say will hurt me, I will always honor and respect her opinion.

She is also compassionate. She will do whatever needs to be done to help those in need, especially those less fortunate than herself. Her heart has room for so much love yet for some reason, she is fearful of letting herself be loved. I want her to be brave and honest with herself and ask herself why she will not let herself be loved.

She is also passionate, everything she does she puts her heart and soul into. She is passionate in life and she is passionate in love. I lay awake at night remembering the fire in her eyes. I miss the fire. I miss her eyes. I miss her.

If you find her in London, please let her know that I will be here for her when she returns. I can be here as her friend, or I can be here as much more, but the one thing I can't be, is absent from her life.

Yours forever,

Richard