Chapter 6 - I will honour Christmas in Heart

Exhausted, but filled with a sense of accomplishment and joy Isobel closed the door behind her and leaned against it. It was cold in the hallway. She checked her watch and realized it was already past midnight. Christmas. Like to confirm her thoughts, the bells of the nearby church started ringing. She dropped the towels she had been carrying on a chair near the door and went downstairs where she found Dickie in the drawing room. He was sitting near the fire and read a book. She smiled when she saw him and since he didn't notice her presence she observed him for a few moments, before she made herself known.

He looked up in anticipation and closed the book. "And?"

"It's a very healthy and big girl with red hair and blue eyes," Isobel announced solemnly. "Doctor McEwan will be staying for the night. I didn't want to send him outside in this weather."

Dickie sighed relieved. "Marvellous! You must be exhausted!" He rose and offered her his seat near the flickering fire.

"Not as exhausted as Mrs McEwan," she quipped as she sat down. Dickie poured Isobel a sherry and spread a thick blanket over her legs. Again Isobel smiled at her husband, ever so grateful she had agreed to marry him despite her initial fear to admit her feelings for him.

"Thank you," she said.

"Never mind," he said and pulled another chair close to Isobel's. "I want you to be as comfortable as possible."

"That's not what I mean," she said and took his hand.

Surprised he wrinkled his forehead. "I'm afraid you've lost me, my Darling."

"I was talking about today. You never doubted my version of events when Rachel told us about Doctor McEwan's mother. Many men would have questioned their wives and their past, wondering what she was hiding from them."

"I know you," Dickie said, a gentle smile playing around his lips. "There isn't one dishonest bone in your body. You maybe a cunning minx at times, but you never lie and giving up a child isn't like you."

She chuckled. "I'm not sure I should take this as a compliment."

"Oh, please do, because I wouldn't want you any other way." He leaned forward and kissed her deeply.

"You know the truth is, Doctor McEwan reminded me of Matthew when I first saw him. Perhaps that's the reason I paid so much attention to him and agreed to help him. It sounds a little foolish to say it and I hate to think I wanted some stranger to replace my beloved son."

Dickie wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she leaned against him. She finally relaxed and thankful he would never demand from her to change who and what she was. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

"It's hard not to do so. I think I might have to apologize to him. I was very rigid with him this afternoon."

Dickie chuckled. "Was it the kind of rigid you're using with Violet or the kind you're using with Doctor Clarkson?"

Against her wish she had to laugh about herself. "Don't remind me about Doctor Clarkson. We almost got him killed last night."

"He will live," Dickie said reassuringly. "And we both know he will forgive you, if you attacked him with a sword! Besides…I think he's waiting for you."

"Oh, I'm sure he is." She fell silent and closed her eyes while her head rested against his shoulder. For a few moments they just watched the flames dancing in the fireplace.

"Could I interest you in going upstairs with me?" he asked tenderly.

She raised her head and nodded. "I think you could."

He rose, stretched out his hand, and she took it. "If I were only ten years younger, I would carry you up the stairs," he joked as they reached the staircase. She laughed in response and placed her arm around his waist. "And if I were ten years younger, I would be happy to be carried, but tonight I don't want to risk anything - not even with the Doctor being our guest of honour!"

Richard Clarkson couldn't sleep. His world had turned more than once today and he felt as if he had lost control over his life. He really needed to talk to Isobel. Somehow it seemed she was the only person who could help him to make sense of everything. He had a hunch - a nagging suspicion that didn't leave his head and drove him almost insane. It was a thought that was so unbelievable, so abstruse that it could turn out to be true. But before he talked to anyone else, he had to talk to Isobel. She was the only one who could help him.

Why was this woman always the key to everything that happened in his life? He should move on. After all these years of waiting and wanting her, he should be able to forward, but every time he tried to do so, he found himself back at square one - just as he did now, while he thought about the possible existence of a family he never knew.

When Isobel left Crawley House shortly after ten o'clock to visit Doctor Clarkson at the hospital, the sun was shining brightly. It was the most beautiful day for Christmas and the sight of the blue sky filled her with hope and peace.

The hospital was almost deserted and she found Clarkson in an armchair in his office where he was reading a letter.

"Merry Christmas, Doctor," she said joyfully when she reached him.

Startled he looked up to her. "Lady Merton!" He tried to rise, but she bid him to stay seated. He looked terribly pale and exhausted and her concern for his health grew. She couldn't help but to feel guilty for his accident.

"How are you feeling?" she asked after she had pulled a visitor's chair next to his.

"As if a car hit me," he answered dryly.

"I'm so sorry for what happened," she said. "It was all my fault. If I hadn't forgotten my…"

He raised his hand. "Forget about it. I guess we can agree, it wasn't the most successful evening for any of us!"

"No," she agreed. "And now it's important we got you back onto your feet!"

"I am lucky I have a second Doctor around here. I've heard he's become a father of a healthy young girl?"

"Oh, he is. Mother and daughter are perfectly fine. They will stay with us until she's well enough to go home."

"I'm sure you have it all under control…" His voice trailed off and Isobel tilted her head. "What is it?" she asked. "You look preoccupied."

"I'm afraid, I need your help."

She did her best not to sound too amazed. Doctor Clarkson had never asked for her help before. He had always accepted it, but he had never actually asked for it. Actually, he was someone who loathed asking for anything. "Please, go on."

"I've noticed there was some confusion about Doctor McEwan's… identity."

"You can say that again."

"Well, I admit he's…irritated me as well."

Sure, she knew where his pedestrian explanation was heading, she cut him off. "I'm not his mother, if that's what you're referring to."

Pretty sure, she would leave the room instantly, if he told her, he thought McEwan was her lover, he cleared his throat.

"I know that. That's not what I meant."

"So, what did you mean?"

Isobel noticed with growing concern that it took him an awful lot of strength to ask the following question. "Do you happen to know who his mother is?"

After a few seconds of thinking, she slowly shook her head. Rachel hadn't mentioned a name as far as she could remember. "I'm afraid not, but she was from Manchester."

"And a nurse?"

"And a nurse."

"I see." He rubbed his aching forehead.

"What can I help you with?" Isobel asked, sensing there was something the doctor needed to get off his chest.

"I would feel better telling you, if I knew more about the circumstances of Doctor McEwan's birth," Clarkson said. "I already feel like a fool just thinking about it."

Isobel gave Clarkson a quick account of the little she knew about McEwan's parentage she heard from Rachel the other day and during her little report the Doctor became more and more lost in his thoughts.

"Anyway, I promised Mrs McEwan to help looking for Doctor McEwan's mother. I'm sure a good detective can find out everything Doctor McEwan needs to know about his birth family."

"That's just it," Clarkson said after a minute of silence. "I don't think you have to look very far to find out who his mother was."

"I beg your pardon..."

"You see, long before I came here to Downton I was working in Edinburgh where I knew a young nurse…." He avoided Isobel's questioning eyes and stared out of the window into the ice blue sky. "She vanished from one day to the next. She left no message and when I asked at her family about her whereabouts, they just sent me away. I couldn't make any sense of it and thought she had become tired of me or met someone else. Things like this happen after all, don't they?"

Isobel swallowed. This turnout was something she had not expected. It was strange to think about the Doctor as someone with a love life. As long as she knew him, there had never been a woman who had caught his interest - her aside. "So, if I were to find out the name of his mother…"

"We can hopefully exclude my worst suspicion," Clarkson concluded her sentence.

"But wouldn't it be wonderful if you finally had a family?" she asked puzzled. "Imagine!"

"Oh, I do and to come to the realization that I'm a father who had no opportunity to watch his son grow up is not something I look forward to!"

She narrowed her eyes. Why did he always have to remind her about his egotistical antics? "You truly are the personification of Scrooge!" she said angrily and rose. "As a mother who has lost her only child, I can only say that you're the most selfish man I've ever met! How can you turn down the possible gift of parenthood! What about Doctor McEwan and his pain of not knowing where he came from?!"

Angry with Clarkson she stormed out of the room, leaving him like a scolded boy. Feeling as if a hurricane had hit him, his headache increased and groaned. Suddenly the door flew open again and Isobel returned, her coat blowing.

"What was her name?" she asked bluntly.

"Rosalind Carrington," he answered dumbfounded.

"Good. I'll be back."

The door fell shut and again he was on his own.

"I was afraid you would say that," he said.

Isobel found Rachel and the baby in the guestroom.

"How are you feeling?" she asked the young mother who was rocking the baby in her arms.

"Like a queen," Rachel answered with a wide smile. "I'm so happy I could burst!"

"I know the feeling," Isobel said. "I felt the same when I had Matthew." For some moments Isobel became lost in her memories, but quickly decided she shouldn't get lost in her own past. "I was wondering about something. Perhaps you could help me."

"Of course!"

"Yesterday when you told us about your husband's mother you never mentioned her name…"

"I didn't?" Rachel wondered. "Well, the name she gave the priest was Rosalind Carrington, but I doubt it was her real name. The detectives said the name was a dead end when they searched for her in Manchester."

Isobel swallowed. "Rosalind Carrington?"

Rachel nodded.

"Oh dear."

"Are you all right?" Rachel asked worried. "You look incredibly pale!"

"I'm fine." Isobel sank on the edge of the bed. "There's something I have to tell you. I think you don't have to look for your husband's parents much longer - well, at least not for his father."

"I don't think I understand you." Rachel seemed genuinely dumbfounded by Isobel's statement. "How can you… how can anyone know who Fred's father is?"

"I know it sounds odd… even mad, but I just talked to someone… a man who knew Miss Carrington. A man who loved her. I think it's fairly possible that he's Doctor McEwan's father."

"Who?" The question was a mere whisper.

Isobel hesitated and wished she hadn't told Rachel about her suspicion. What if it wasn't true? What if Clarkson continued to behave like an egomaniac? "Actually…. I think it's best if we…"

"Who is it? Lady Merton, please!"

"All right… Doctor Clarkson told me this morning, he suspects that he's Fred's father. The name Rosalind Carrington is identical with the name of the nurse he met in Edinburgh."

"Oh my god!"

Rachel looked at her baby and then again up to Isobel. "Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?"

"No, not necessarily," Isobel admitted.

"Well, I do!" Rachel beamed. "Can I meet this man? I want to talk to him."

"That's just it. He's at the hospital… not feeling very well."

"Then I will go there!"

"But…" Stunned by the dynamic of the situation Isobel watched Rachel getting out of bed. Suddenly the baby lay in Isobel's arms and yawned heartily and Rachel was picking up her clothes.

"Please, hold the baby. I have to get dressed."

"Are you sure? What if…"

Rachel cut her off. "And what if not? What if this is going to be the most marvellous Christmas of all for my husband?"

Isobel couldn't argue with that, but she was wary. "I'll come with you. I'll ask my maid to have an eye on the baby."

"Thank you!"

While Rachel looked through her clothing to sort it out a blue scarf fell onto the floor. Isobel narrowed her eyes to have a better look at the embroidered, golden letters.

Curious Isobel looked at Rachel. "What does R.C. stand for?"

"Rachel Campbell," the young woman answered. "Campbell is my maiden name. My mother made it for me when I got 18."

"What a beautiful piece!" Isobel said and gave the scarf to Rachel.

"It is," Rachel agreed. "And now I have to get dressed!"

While Rachel was in the bathroom, Isobel took the baby and went downstairs to look for Dickie. She wanted to inform him about the latest developments and was surprised to find out he wasn't alone. Doctor Clarkson, visibly shaken was in the drawing room.

"When did you get here?" she asked annoyed.

"Right after you," he answered.

"He told me what happened," Dickie explained.

"Mrs McEwan is getting ready upstairs. She wants to speak with you, before her husband does."

"Where is he?" Dickie asked. "I haven't seen him all day!"

"He's making a house call," Clarkson said and stretched to have a look at the baby in Isobel's arms. "The head nurse told me, there was some minor accident on a farm last night."

Isobel acknowledged this with a curt nod and allowed the Doctor one quick glance at the child, before she left the room again.

"Don't you want to sit down?" Dickie asked. "Forgive me, but you look a bit exhausted."

Clarkson rolled his eyes. Who didn't like to be reminded about one's appearance?

"I didn't sleep very well," he said and took the seat Dickie offered him.

"That's quite understandable," Dickie said. "Let's hope we can unriddle this mess for everyone involved."

Clarkson answered nothing. He stared at the framed photograph of the late Matthew Crawley on the mantelpiece. "How can you turn down the gift parenthood?" Isobel had asked him earlier that day and, of course, she had been right with her accusation. He was an egoistic coward.

They heard noises in the hallway and seconds later the door opened. The maid led Doctor McEwan into the room. The young man looked bright and happy. He carried a big bouquet of red roses on his arm. Where had he found red roses on Christmas Day?

McEwan's jaw dropped when he saw Clarkson sitting there.

"Doctor Clarkson! You should be in bed!"

"I know, but I think it's vital that we have a talk!"

McEwan looked at Dickie. "Is it Rachel? Or the baby? Are they all right?"

"Of course! Of course!" Dickie reassured him. "They are upstairs and everything is as it should be!"

"So, what's so important?" McEwan looked from one man to the other. Dickie realized he was not needed and decided to leave.

"I think it's best I left you alone. Take as much time as you need."

Once they were alone McEwan looked dumbfounded at his superior. "I'm all ears."

Clarkson drew a deep breath, before he asked McEwan to sit down. "I want to ask you something."

"Go ahead." Mcewan abandoned the roses on the small table and sat down.

"Do you happen to know a woman named Rosalind Carrington?"

McEwan swallowed and grew pale. "I don't, but the name is familiar."

"I thought so." Clarkson cleared his throat. "What I'm going to tell you now isn't easy for me, but I hope you'll try to understand me..."

Isobel closed the book she was reading when Dickie entered the bedroom. She rubbed her tired eyes and suppressed a yawn.

"I agree," Dickie said with a grin as he slipped under the blanket. "It was a long day."

"It was the strangest Christmas I can remember," Isobel said. "I telephone Cora earlier. She wasn't happy with our absence. To make up for the inconvenience we caused, I invited them all for the day after tomorrow. When I told Mrs Field about it, she almost had a heart attack."

Dickie chuckled. "I bet she'll be happy to show off her cooking skills."

"Let's hope so," Isobel said.

"You may say it was a strange Christmas Day, but I think you did well. You united a family."

"We don't know that yet," Isobel argued mildly. "What if they never learn who Doctor McEwan's mother is?"

Dickie shrugged, "We'll do our best to find out who she is. I have a feeling that it will all turn out well."

Isobel smiled and shook her head, "You and your endless enthusiasm. Do you never never waver?"

He pretended to think for a moment and then he said, "No. Not really."

She laughed and snuggled up to him. "You're hopeless!" She kissed him deeply and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm hopelessly romantic, I'll admit to that. 'I will honour Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all year'."

The quote made her smile. "I should get a copy of 'A Christmas Carol' for Doctor Clarkson."

"Why?" Dickie asked puzzled. "I doubt he's interested in anything but his medical journals."

"Exactly. Perhaps that's the reason he's been behaving like Scrooge all this time."

"Let's hope his new profession as a grandfather will change that."

Dickie reached out to switch off the light and Isobel placed her head on his chest. "I'm not sure if I said it, but…. Merry Christmas, Dickie."

He gently kissed her forehead and inhaled the faded scent of her perfume, thankful to be at her side. Where she was, he was at home every day of the year. "Merry Christmas, Darling."

***The End***

Sorry for the late update, but it couldn't be helped. Thanks for reading and reviewing! If anyone has a story request for me or an idea what to write next, don't hesitate to contact me. I can't promise anything, but I'm always open for new ideas!