A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter. The frank discussion between Richard and Isobel and the little bit of role reversal they each undertook were fun to explore. I needed to show them learning to communicate effectively with one another, especially given their propensity to disagree on medical matters. And if you'll notice, they're really starting to smolder and fanning some serious flames! The wedding isn't too far away, I promise! They'll get their just desserts.
I cannot thank you all enough for the reads, follows, favs and reviews. Please do keep the feedback coming. I've had the loveliest exchanges with so many of you and I treasure each and every one of them!
When Isobel thought back on it afterwards, making the announcement to her family about her engagement and upcoming wedding was a blur. What had she even said? Evidently it had been intelligible to some degree because the first thing she remembered, after the blazing blue of Richard's eyes burning through her from across the table, was Lady Mary's uncharacteristic delighted gasp and giddy applause. It was the first full smile Isobel had seen from Mary since they'd been together in the delivery room just after George's birth.
She recalled Cora's smiling eyes, her genuinely offered, "Well done, Isobel!" Robert's standing and raising a toast, "To our dear Doctor and the future Mrs. Clarkson," had caught her by surprise. Richard had told her later, with much amusement, that her eyes had gone wide as saucers.
When they returned to the cottage after dinner, Isobel and Richard collapsed, exhausted, onto the bed and into one another's arms. "I have to concede I was wrong, Richard! I went in looking for a fight and it turns out there was none to be had. I underestimated the lot of them!"
"You are loved, sweet Isobel. More than you realize."
"So are you, my darling man." Isobel took hold of his hand and laced her fingers through his. Richard's heart skipped a beat when he saw the adoration in her eyes. She continued, "I knew that we wouldn't get off without them attempting to assert some measure of influence over our wedding, though. Sure enough, Violet and Cora leapt at their perceived opportunity to plan. But you! Major Clarkson made his appearance when you said to Violet, calm as a convent, 'Lady Grantham, the arrangements are made, and you've nothing to do but enjoy the day.' You managed to be masterful and gracious in equal measure. I have much to learn from you in that regard. No one is surprised when I speak my mind, but you, love! You wait until it just won't do to keep silent, and by then you've thought long and hard about what you want to say. They listen because you're kind and eloquent when you speak. I love that about you, Richard."
"I love everything about you, Isobel," he replied, and it wasn't a deflection. She looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She was both humbled and alarmed by it, for she knew that love is more than hearts and flowers and seeing nothing but perfection in one's beloved. But then, she argued with herself, surely Richard knew that. No one but he had seen the darkest days of her life.
"Surely not everything, love. I am plenty flawed. Don't misunderstand me, I am ever so glad that you see good in me. Only I know from my marriage to Reginald that while it is possible to remain in love, there comes a time when the newness and euphoria fade away. Don't place me upon so high a pedestal that you believe I'll never aggravate you, that my habits won't irk you." She paused, allowing him to process what she was saying, and lay her hand over his heart so that he knew she was not distancing herself from him.
"I'll never do anything intentionally if I know it irritates or hurts you, but I'm flesh, my dear, as are you. However much the thought might mollify us, we will hurt each other. I adore you. I cannot wait to be your wife, and I look forward to all that entails." She raised an eyebrow at him in what was clearly a suggestive manner and he felt his skin begin to tingle. He could see that she was taking great pains to assure him that she was not changing her mind, and in turn he resolved to hear not only her words but the heart behind them.
Isobel watched his eyes carefully before continuing, her arm going around him, her fingers beginning to knead the small of his back. "I just want you to know what marriage will be. It'll be wonderful. The most worthwhile thing we will ever do. But you'll feel like you hate me sometimes, Richard. That's only a small part of it, but it is part of it, and I ... " She faltered at the end, thinking of his ability to make an impact in so few words. Had she said too much? Should she tarnish his ideals of marriage before theirs even began?
"Shh, Isobel. Don't doubt yourself. I know you say this because you love me. I'll remember your words when the hard times come. If I'm not mistaken, I believe that what you're telling me is that Nurse Crawley, with her vast intelligence, sharp skills, and her propensity to raise my ire in a heartbeat, and Isobel, the warm, passionate, selfless woman in my arms, are one and the same, yes?"
"Well ... " She thought for a moment. "Essentially, yes."
"We have weathered our share of arguments over the years, have we not?"
She couldn't deny it. "Indeed we have."
"I believe I've been suitably prepared for what lies ahead," he said, sounding for all the world like Major Clarkson, masterful and commanding.
"Richard?" It wasn't the response she'd expected. It was more dogmatic, less hurt. She'd hoped she wouldn't hurt him but expected that she had. She marveled at his ability to condense the barrage of words she'd leveled at him so succinctly into a coherent point. He was the perfect counterpoint to her in so very many ways.
"Isobel, today was a victory for us. For you particularly, and I don't want you to rush headlong into unnecessary anxiety and overlook what happened tonight at dinner. I have heard every word you've said and I take it all very much to heart. You're wise to caution me as you've done but let us leave it there for now. I love you, we're getting married in three weeks, and your family has given us their blessing. We didn't need it, would have moved forward without it, but let's not overlook the fact that it didn't come to that. Stop, my darling, and treasure this. Come here."
Isobel bit her lip, hesitating for just one moment before making her decision. Richard had resolved to protect her honor and she wanted to uphold the decisions he made in their interest. At the same time she craved his touch, every fiber of her being longing for physical affection from him. She took his invitation and lowered her body on top of his.
He drew a breath that he then exhaled slowly, willing himself to remain in control. "God, Isobel," he breathed. They were both fully clothed except for their shoes, but even so the press of the length of her body against his was electrifying. She lay still. He would determine how they were to proceed from this point. She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding when his arms came around her, wrapping her tightly in an embrace. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and they held onto one another in silence.
"I love you, Richard," she spoke softly in his ear, kissing him there. She had said it before, but this time he heard the full measure of meaning behind the words.
"I know you do, my Bel. And I love you. Above all else, I love you." He let his fingers trail up and down her back, tracing her vertebrae. For her part Isobel remained still, every nerve ending aware of all the places where their bodies made contact. She had always been very tactile in her love of Reginald, her enthusiasm matching his every day of their twenty years together. But as much as she enjoyed that aspect of her marriage, she had never longed for him as fiercely as she wanted Richard. Reginald had been so unlike the men of their time, openly welcoming her physicality within their marriage. Would Richard do likewise? She hoped so; she thought so, but doubt crept in from time to time.
"Penny for them," he said gently, his fingers working their way through her hair, removing the pins and winding her long, honey-colored curls around his wrists. "You're awfully anxious tonight."
She raised herself up on her forearms slightly so that she could see his face. Though she was uneasy the serene blue depths of his eyes soothed her. "I'm sorry, my darling," she began, but couldn't think how to continue.
"I know the fervor with which you've approached our relationship, so it would seem unlikely that you're getting cold feet, except that anyone else would think you were. Angst over the family's reaction, tension I can feel in your body now. Tell me, sweet girl. Please."
She smiled briefly at this endearment. "I'm hardly a girl, Richard. I suppose that's ... that's a bit of what troubles me. The rest is ... heavens. I have never been at a loss for words with you before, have I?" She was self-deprecating, and it was funny, but it was so out of character for her that his eyes turned sad. He smoothed his hands up and down her sides and kissed her hair.
"It's only you and I here, Isobel. There is not a thing you could say that would ever change my mind about you."
"I hope so, love. You see I'm not sure whether the subject matter is something you'll be willing to discuss prior to marriage."
"Well clearly if it's upsetting you so much it's something we need to discuss, propriety be damned. I'll not have you uneasy like this during what should be one of the happiest times of our lives. We are still getting married, yes?"
"Of course, Richard! You're all I want, if I may be so forthright. In fact you should know that forthrightness is the heart of the matter."
"I've never known you to be anything less," Richard said as he ran his hands through her hair, and they both smiled. His gentle words and the way he never stopped touching her spoke of his determination to make her feel safe. She took a deep, steadying breath and began.
"Richard, I was never one to perform my wifely duties begrudgingly with Reginald. There was no reticence on my part. I'm trying to say that I ... matched his eagerness in ... in the bedroom and that it shocks me, but my feelings for you in that regard already surpass those I had for him. Except I wonder, in light of how adamantly you've been protecting my virtue, whether you will ... be put off."
Richard sat up against the headboard, pulled Isobel to him and wrapped his arms around her, rocking her. "Isobel, how brave you are to tell me! How crucial it is that we communicate well from the start. Thank you, my love, for trusting me enough to share your heart like this." He continued to hold her and she relaxed into him. She knew not yet how he would answer her, but the tenderness with which he handled her now was slowly melting away her apprehension.
"Richard, I can't say whether it's the case that I'm not like most women, or that many women feel the same and are afraid to say so. I'm inclined toward the latter, but either way, I doubt you would deny that there are stigma attached to women - wives - ... enjoying the physical aspects of marriage, and we are not painted in a flattering light. I ... oh, listen to me! This is absurd ... " Not at all certain how to finish without making a fool of herself, Isobel went quiet and curled in against Richard once more.
Richard let a moment pass, then held Isobel out away from him, just enough to take in the high color in her cheeks and the look of uncertainty in her eyes.
"Sweet girl," he said, just above a whisper. He raised a hand to caress her cheek, tracing the contours of the beautiful face he loved. His touch went miles toward soothing her, Isobel realized. Had done for years. Brushes of his hand against her elbow at the hospital when they'd lost a patient. The reassurance of his hands on her shoulders as she sat by Matthew's bedside, willing him to heal. The heady feeling of being held in his arms on the dance floor at the Abbey, where, she'd admit now, she had begun to dream of more between them. The way his arms had held her world together in the long, empty, lonely days and nights after Matthew was killed. She supposed she could guess at his answer, she realized now. A beatific smile settled on her lips. Richard saw it and brushed his thumb across her lips. She kissed it and felt a tightening begin low in her abdomen.
"Oh, my Isobel," Richard began adoringly. He brought her to sit across his lap, and her hands came to rest on the lapels of his shirt. "My answer is a simple one. I should hope that you would want me, otherwise why would we marry? You know far better than I that lovemaking is not all there is to marriage, but without it I'm not sure two people can have a marriage. And if you were not to enjoy it, why would I want to subject you to it?" At this she reached a hand to the nape of his neck, drawing him to her and kissing him openly. He tangled his fingers in her hair, sucking her bottom lip between his own, and only when the need to breathe won out did they separate.
"I am not marrying most women, Isobel. I am marrying the one whose eyes I get lost in, whose lips taste of vanilla and the finest wine, whose skin is impossibly soft, and I ache, Isobel. I ache to feel every inch of that skin against mine. My woman is my equal, my complement in all things. I do not know, nor do I care, how most men feel about wives who overtly want them. I only know that I am delighted to learn that what I suspected about you is correct. I have noted the way you flourish with physical contact, and my love, if you knew the dreams inspired by your responsiveness I believe I might shock even you."
"Only I wasn't sure," she replied, "because every time we touch, your restraint has made me wonder. Do I come on too strong? Do you mean for our marriage to be one of companionship alone? Is it me? What have I done? How have I misunderstood you? Now that we're talking I know you don't see me as merely a companion, but as I've been a wife before I knew it was wrong to allow a misunderstanding to go unchecked and I- "
Richard cut her off with the press of a finger to her lips, not because he desired to interrupt her, but to save her from whipping herself into even more of a frenzy. "Isobel, it's all right now. As I've said, the way you demonstrate your love for me is perfect for us. I never dared to dream that I would win the love of a woman who matched my own physical need. I long for it every bit as much as you do. I exercise restraint with you now because I cannot violate my conscience, darling, and if I were to bed you before we were man and wife in the eyes of God, I would be doing you the greatest disservice. There was a time when Reginald guarded your virtue, was there not?"
Isobel smiled fondly at the memory of her first engagement. "Of course he did, and it was terribly difficult for both of us, but it was unequivocally worth our while."
"Then perhaps you can understand. Your late husband has given me the most precious gift I could ever hope to receive. Your confidence, your competence, your grace ... They all speak to the fact that he treasured you, Isobel. I owe him no less than to do the same. That is why I won't speak of my desire for you, not now. Not just yet. But if you knew, my Bel. If you knew."
"I think I do know, love. I'm afraid I know all too well. And while I don't share your belief that we must wait, I will support your decision. You deserve the anticipation of our wedding night. Richard, you said I was your perfect complement ... " She looked into his eyes and they smiled back at her.
"Aye, that you are."
She thrilled at the slip into his brogue, the corners of her eyes crinkling in a smile of her own. "Well you most certainly are mine. You've no idea the imaginations you will inspire, now that I know I've met my match." If it sounded seductive, she absolutely meant it to.
When they had changed for bed, he surprised her by rolling her beneath him and kissing her senseless, his hands ghosting over her curves a little more boldly, allowing hers to wander just a bit more than they had before. She did not quarrel when he pulled back, settling in against her pillow and pulling his arm around her waist from his position behind her.
"I love you." She looked over her shoulder at him, and he pressed his lips to hers one more time.
"And I am so in love with you," he answered, fatigue thickening his accent in a way she found adorable.
They never drifted out of one another's arms that night, each now aware and eternally grateful of the other's need for contact.
It's heating up in here! Still with me? Do me a favor and let me know by sending me a review, would you please? xx ~ejb~