A/N: A bit of a shorter chapter this time, but hopefully it will prove substantive! Please do continue to leave feedback, and as you do so, consider this question: if Isobel had a pet name for Richard, what would it be? He calls her Bel; what is she to him?
Brighter days ahead for Richobel...
Their relationship had progressed as the weeks went by. As Isobel learned to treasure Matthew's memory while keeping one foot in the present, she would join Richard at the hospital several days a week for the company and the gratification of being useful. She stayed for just a few hours each time, leaving before him either to rest or to see baby George. Many evenings he would arrive home to find dinner on the table and Isobel greeting him with a glass of his favorite whisky and a kiss. The light was returning to her eyes little by little.
Richard expressed his observations to her one night as she lay in his arms. Their physical relationship had not progressed beyond the boundaries he had outlined initially, and he sensed they were both ready for more. That more, however, would be momentous on a life-altering scale. "You're feeling more like yourself these days, aren't you, my Bel?" He had developed a pet name for her in the weeks since their relationship had begun in earnest, and she loved it.
She looked up at him lovingly, and her beauty in that moment took his breath away. "I am, Richard." She smiled broadly at him. "I've come to understand that the best way to honor Matthew's memory is to strengthen what remains while moving boldly onwards. That's the legacy he left to Downton and the way I intend to remember him to George."
"I am so very proud of you, my darling. What courage you possess! What an example you are to Lady Mary, to George, to us all!"
"Well," she demurred, "I don't know about all that. But I do know that you've been correct when you have told me that Matthew would want to see me happy. My well-being was always so important to him. He carried that burden from the time his father died."
"And are you happy, Isobel?" He asked earnestly, his piercing blue eyes searching hers. The strangest sensation settled upon her heart in that instant; love, sorrow and freedom, all in equal measure, and it choked her. She made great efforts to swallow the lump in her throat and took his hand, closing her eyes and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his palm before placing it over her heart. The darkest days of her grief were behind her now. It still sneaked up on her at times, catching her unawares. But she could look out on the horizon and see good things ahead now. The greatest of those was the love of the man in whose arms she lay. "Yes, Richard," she replied steadily. "I am so much happier than I ever thought I'd be again. I'll be forever in your debt. Your love and devotion to me these past few months has saved my life. I shudder to think where I'd be now had it not been for you." Tears threatened but didn't spill over; they weren't flowing so freely these days. She kissed him instead, as if her life depended on it.
He smiled against her lips. Isobel Crawley did nothing by halves, that was sure. He was the luckiest man alive to be the recipient of so much of her passion. "Darling Bel, you need never find that out. I have been so blessed to have the privilege of being by your side. The last few months, but each of these past ten years as well. You are so pure, Isobel. Pure, and good, and selfless. You inspire others to better things. You raise my game, and you do it all with such grace and kindness. I would be honored to be on the receiving end of your love for the rest of my life. Be my wife, Isobel. Marry me?"
For the first time in ages, Isobel was rendered speechless. Her mind was working a mile a minute, but her mouth could not catch up. Richard was as certain as a man could be in such a situation that she would answer in the affirmative, so he watched with love and amusement as countless emotions passed across her face.
"Isobel?" He asked after several minutes passed, making sure she was still with him.
"Richard! Yes," she whispered, smiling beautifully. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her until neither of them could breathe. By that time she was able to expand upon her acceptance of him. "Nothing would make me happier than to be your wife. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone, and I've known great love before! I thought my life was over...when Reginald died...when Matthew died. Richard, you made me feel again. Oh, my love..." She pressed her hand to her lips, too overcome by emotion to speak anymore.
Richard smiled. Adorable she was, this woman. His love. He pulled her to him and her arms came round him. She buried her face in the warm crook of his neck, where she could feel his pulse beneath her lips, and they held one another in silence.
It was he who next spoke. "I don't have a ring for you yet, but I do have this." He reached into the drawer of the nightstand next to him and withdrew a box. When he opened it she saw a solitaire diamond pendant in an antique cut. "This belonged to my great-grandmother," he explained. "It was passed down to my grandmother, then to my mother, and then to me as I was an only child. My mother had it looked at by a gemologist years ago and he said it's a very rare cut that no one does anymore. It lends to the sparkle and fire of the diamond, so he explained. I thought we might take it to the jeweler in York on my next day off, and you can choose the setting."
She just looked at him for a long moment. Taking him in, truly...taking in the fact that he wanted her to wear a diamond that had meant so much to so many generations of women in his family. This man, this quiet storm of a man. Compassionate, kindhearted, tender, deliberate. He did nothing without considering it from every side first, so different to her in that regard and so wise for it. She expected he'd given no less than the fullest measure of thought to her wearing this most precious stone. He treasured it; he treasured her. She saw it in his eyes, felt it in his arms that held her fast while her world had rushed into the abyss.
"It's simply lovely, Richard. I would be honored to wear something that has held so much meaning to your family. You know I can't help but feel..." She trailed off, suddenly overcome by emotion, happy tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks. He watched her, brushing them away with gentle fingers. She leaned into his touch and held his hand against her cheek. "I can't help but feel Matthew smiling on us just now. You and he have so many similarities, and he always held you in the highest regard. He would be our greatest advocate, I do believe." Her eyes were closed and she smiled at the thought of her son taking up for them against the objections of the family. Richard had waited a very long time to see this look on her face, and he knew by it that he had chosen the right time to make her his wife.
"Beautiful," he whispered as he watched her, catching her off-guard and kissing her.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, and he heard surprise and desire in it. He took a risk by doing it, relying on self-control he wasn't certain he could keep in check, but he pulled her into his lap and kissed her fully. She relished this closer contact between them than any they'd yet had, her skilled fingers tracing the fine musculature of his chest and back and strong arms. Her touch was maddening, and he gave into the temptation to kiss the exposed column of her throat, lapping at her pulse when he heard how it made her whimper; felt how it made her squirm.
They pulled back by mutual consent when it became too heated, her forehead resting against his. "My love, I suggest we make this a very short engagement," he said, and she caught his impish grin and reached out to trace it with her fingertips.
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YOU ARE READING
Worthy and True
RomanceIsobel and Richard in the months following Matthew's death. A bit of a "beauty from ashes" piece; intended to answer a couple of Prompton Abbey Tumblr prompts. Reviews welcome and appreciated :)