"You're very aloof this afternoon," Violet commented, glancing over her tea cup at Isobel. She had noticed her cousin was quite different than a year ago. Her mood had diminished since the start of the New Year, and Violet's initial assumption of winter being the culprit now seemed incorrect.
"Am I? I do not mean to be," Isobel replied, her eyes moving back to Violet and offering the Dowager a weak smile. "Do tell me how things are coming along with the spring flower show."
As they lapsed in to comfortable conversation, Violet continued to observe Isobel. She knew her cousin was keeping something from her…something she deemed important enough that it was affecting her usually optimistic attitude.
"Have you been to see George lately?" Violet asked, knowing the mention of Isobel's only grandchild always brought a great deal of joy to his paternal grandmother.
"No, I'm afraid I haven't. I've been quite busy with the clinic…I should make a point to go up this weekend," Isobel replied.
Violet's eyes narrowed, her curiosity peaked. "Goodness…does Dr. Clarkson not have enough staff to work at the clinic?"
"He does, of course. But I'm happy to help if I can…to feel useful," Isobel answered.
"To feel useful? Or to evade any thought of Lord Merton?" Violet countered, innocently sipping her tea while Isobel's cup clattered on the saucer.
Violet caught Isobel's jaw clench and her eyes crease with anger. The glare she received from the woman was enough to answer her question.
"Well, that answers that," Violet commented, her lips pursed with satisfaction. "Why don't you write to him? See how he is? There's no law that says you cannot be friendly because you refused to marry him."
Isobel's look of anger dissipated, replaced by one of regret. "I suppose I wouldn't know what to say…just as I'm not sure if I should accept his offer to tea on Friday."
The Dowager's eyes widened. "He's asked you to tea? When did this happen?"
"Just this morning. I had a meeting with Dr. Clarkson, and when I got to the hospital, Lord Merton was waiting."
"How did he know you would be there?"
"I must have mentioned the meeting to Mary. He said she told him where I would be," Isobel replied, sitting against the back of the chair and folding her hands in her lap. "I don't think I should accept."
"Why on Earth wouldn't you?" Violet exclaimed, knowing this was exactly what Isobel needed to cheer her up.
"We've said all there is to say…nothing will change Larry and Timothy's opinion. I am what I am and I cannot change that."
"No one says you have to change who you are to have tea with Lord Merton," Violet scoffed. She shook her head with exasperation. "I think you need to hear him out. Perhaps he is just looking to be friends…"
"Perhaps…"Isobel answered softly, her eyes dropping to her hands. Her thumbs twiddled in circles as her nerves heightened. "But would it not be better to let the matter rest?"
"No, it would not!" Violet answered strongly. "And if you will not accept, I will do so on your behalf."
"You will not! I can still accept my own invitations, thank you very much," Isobel countered, a bit of spark coming back in her tone.
Violet hid her amusement at having successfully riled Isobel Crawley's feathers. Though she would never admit it, she hated to see Isobel so melancholy. She liked their bantering back and forth…it kept her on her toes.
"Well, then you'd best accept the invitation tonight or I shall be forced to make a phone call in the morning."
Isobel's lips pressed together, subduing the harsh comment she had for the Dowager Countess. Instead, she took her tea cup and sipped the warm liquid, hoping the decision to meet Lord Merton would not cost her in the end.