Thanks again for your support and kindness! I really hope you will enjoy the next chapter :-) Say also thank you to my Darling beta. She always knows how to improve my scribbling!

Chapter 4

It took Isobel the entire next day to make a decision and when she finally sealed the envelope that contained her answer, she still wasn't sure, whether she was doing the right thing.

"So, what did he want?" Violet asked after dinner, when the family had settled down for coffee and drinks.

"He has invited me for tea," Isobel answered.

"And will you go?"

"Yes, I think so."

"I see... How brave of you."

Isobel narrowed her eyes. She wasn't in the mood for Violet's teasing and did not intend discussing her plans with her.

"And why's that?" she asked, rather briskly.

Violet raised her eyebrows, "Touchy tonight, aren't we? I mean... will you ask him about this Miss Grant or not?"

"I don't see why."

"Then why are you going there in the first place?"

"He asked me for tea," Isobel stated matter-of-factly. "That's why."

"Oh my dear..." To Isobel's growing annoyance Violet sighed, as if she pitied her. "You really make this hard on yourself, don't you? But you're not Jeanne d'Arc, you know. There's no need for you to get burned."

Isobel repaid Violet's remark with a nasty glance. "I won't get burned. Don't you worry."

"Well, where there is smoke, there's a flame and where there is a flame, someone usually gets burned. Just make sure, it's not you."

When Isobel arrived at Lord Merton's mansion her hopes to find he was living there on his own were quickly dashed by the sight of Elizabeth Grant entering the house. What if Cousin Violet was right and Miss Grant was really living under his roof? And what if the papers were right and they were about to become engaged? What if Dickie expected the three of them to have tea together? For a few seconds she considered leaving again, but then she reminded herself of her good manners and her pride. If she left now, she'd make a fool of herself. If that happened, she would never be able to look him in the eyes again.

Thus Isobel mustered all of her strength and dignity, hoping this afternoon wouldn't end in another disaster.

Dickie greeted her in the hallway. "My dear," he said after he had kissed her cheek. "How kind of you to follow my invitation! How are you?"

"I'm fine. I hope you are as well."

"Well, it took me some to time to recover from the other evening, but, yes, I'm fine."

He gently took her elbow and led her into the salon behind the small library.

"Do you like the house? I'm afraid we've never met here before."

"It's nice," she answered mechanically, because her eyes were too occupied with searching for Elizabeth Grant to notice her surroundings.

"Do you stay here a lot?" she asked, as she sank into a chair near the fireplace.

"Rarely, I have to admit," he answered. "I don't like being in London. It's always so crowded and noisy."

"You sound just like Robert," she joked mildly. "Are you staying here on your own?" The question was out, before she knew she had said it. She nervously bit her lower lip while he lowered his gaze and rose from his chair.

"If you're talking about..."

"I meant, if one of your sons is..."

Both fell silent again.

"Miss Grant is staying here. She's the daughter of an old friend of mine. She's grown up in India and came back to England last winter, after her father died."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Isobel said quickly, now ashamed that she couldn't hold her tongue. If Violet saw her now, she would have a field day.

"After everything you must have read in the papers, I felt I might need to explain it to you. Though I must admit it's rather encouraging that people still think of me as a man who could enchant a young, beautiful woman." He rang the gong to order tea. Isobel waited until the butler had left the room, before she spoke again.

"You know I don't care for gossip," she said quietly.

He turned and gave her a smile. "I know. But not everyone is as remarkable as you. My son, for example, seems to think the worst of me."

"From his outburst I take it, Larry was in love with her?"

Dickie shrugged, "Whatever he calls love. I'm not sure I know my own son anymore. Maybe I never have."

The door opened as the butler came in to serve the tea. Dickie returned to his chair and watched Isobel attentively, as she took the cup the butler handed her.

"Why did you want to see me?" she asked when they were alone again.

"I wanted to apologize," he answered.

Baffled, Isobel asked. "But what for?"

"Our last conversation back then wasn't very pleasant and I'm afraid I was rather harsh with you. I'm sorry for that."

Isobel shook her head, "There's no need for you to apologize. I wasn't exactly fair to you either."

"I pressed you and I had no right to. I should have accepted your decision."

Isobel fought to find the right words. She hadn't exactly pushed him away when he had kissed her – on the contrary.

"I wish we could get past this," she finally said. "I wish we could move on from all this and be friends. I'd hate for us to be on the edge every time we meet."

For a moment he said nothing, he just watched her, as if he had to contemplate her suggestion. "I quite agree. Though it's easier said than done."

She couldn't argue with that. Again the complexity and hopelessness of their situation crept up on her. She couldn't say it was easy to sit in his presence and pretend she was over him or even done with their relationship.

"Yes, but the alternative is not very tempting either, is it?" she asked with reddening cheeks.

"No, I guess not."

Suddenly, the door flew open and the butler came in, out of breath, and obviously in shock, "Excuse me, Sir, but you need come out immediately!"

Dickie got quickly on his feet, "What is it, Cabot?"

"It's Miss Grant... Mister Larry and she are having an argument. It's quite ugly and... violent."

"What is my son doing here?"

The butler blushed. "I don't know… someone must have let him in earlier… when Miss Grant was out."

"Excuse me, please." Dickie hurried out the room and after a short hesitation Isobel followed him.

When they reached the foyer, Isobel understood why the butler was so worried. At the top of the stair case Elizabeth and Larry were arguing. They were shouting at each other at the top of their lungs.

"Larry!" Dickie yelled upstairs, but neither of the young people seemed to hear him.

"You have no right to be jealous!"

"I have every right!"

Elizabeth scoffed and turned around. Larry grabbed her arm, but she freed herself with a quick push of her elbow.

"Get off me!" she hissed and missed the next step of the staircase. A scream escaped her throat when she realized that she was losing her balance. Unable stop herself from falling, Elizabeth tumbled. Isobel held her breath, while she helplessly watched how Elizabeth fell down the stairs. Larry gasped. His eyes widened in horror. After what had to be an eternity the young woman finally came to rest on the hard marble floor.

"Elizabeth!" he yelled, but paralysed he remained where he was.

"Oh my God!" Dickie and Isobel hastened to Elizabeth and he carefully turned her lifeless body around. "She's unconscious!" he said helplessly and looked at Isobel who had just noticed the blood on Dickie's hand.

"She needs a doctor at once!" Isobel said and got back to her feet. "I'll make the call. Dickie, can you take her upstairs? But careful, she's bleeding from the back of her head."

"We're all in the same game… Dealing all with the same hell; just different devils" ~ Proverb

~tbc~