6. When we were young (pre-series)

Summer 1891

Far from his home, far from what was left of his family and far from his country: basically alone, to say it in one word. That was how Richard Clarkson was in his first arrival at Downton, a young and for some aspects still naive doctor, who had a life to rebuilt from the start and not many reference points to do so.

He was in his early thirty and if that made him already a bit too old maybe for starting to look for a wife, he was considered defintely too young instead on a strictly professional level. Therefore, he found himself immediately caught between the village girls' interest and the Grantham family's diffidence. Of the two, the second matter was the most subtle and the most annoying as well. Surely it must have been a truly bad luck for them to lose their trusted old doctor just in the middle of Lady Cora's first pregnancy. Would that unkown, probably unexperienced, doctor who spoke too little and with a too strong scottish accent when he did, be actually able to do his job? That was the silent question that was always hang in the air during the short visits he paid at the Abbey. No one dared to say it out loud, but yet it was perfectly clear behind Lady Violet's ironic remarks or young Lord Grantham's too apprehensive questions.

So, when that so feared question was actually spoken, bluntly and straightly, Richard was taken completely by surprise and the fact that it was coming from the youngest member of the family didn't help to ease his astonishment.

"Will you truly be able to help delivering my future nephew? I mean… Are you good at your job, Doctor Clarkson?"

Lady Rosamund must have been surely more than ten years younger than him, she looked quite reserved and, before then, he had never even actually heard her speak. And yet here she was, accusing him without making a big deal about it and staring at him with her perceing blue eyes as if she wanted to catch his answer just through that look. Honestly, he didn't know whether to feel offended for being questioned by a probably too snobbish girl or, on the contrary, relieved for finally meeting someone in that house not afraid to speak her own mind; without chosing one of the two, he just kept being surprised though, blinking his eyes a couple of times and trying to take some seconds to formulate an answer.

"If you are saying that because I am young, my Lady, then you are not making honor to your own category" he finally decided to say.

But if he had expected her to be at least a bit embarassed, he was proved very wrong by her unchanged face – exception made for the appearance of a little teasing smirk and a somehow dangerous quick look all over his figure.

"I am saying that because you are good-looking. And usually, that does not match cleverness."

His surprise only grew, but this time she gave him no time to recover from it. As she started walking away to join back her own mother as if nothing had ever happened, he remained lost in that astonishment for a little longer until a little flattered smirk formed on his lips as well.

After all, he was just a young man and now, she was the only English girl who had attracted his interest, without likely even wanting it.

Two months were passed and Doctor Clarkson had become pretty used to his new home so far. He came to know for example most of the habits of the villagers, and he had learnt how to deal with most of the nurses' crush on him or what every Lady Violet's glance truly meant. He had even learnt to predict Lady Rosamund's unpredictable behavior, or at least to predict the fact that she would have acted unpredictably. Because it was unpredictable to him indeed the times she decided to stay and talk a little bit with him, especially when he couldn't see a reason for that. He had arrived at the conclusion that she was pushed by a mixture of boredom and curiosity and, somehow, he was the object of attention she had chosen in order to delete both the feelings.

"I thought you had a footman for pouring the drinks or something like that" Richard said, watching her filling two glasses of whisky by herself.

It was one of the afternoons he had to pass by at the Abbey, only that this time he had arrived a bit earlier and didn't find no one of the family, except from her. And now they were alone in the big sitting room, taking advantage of the moment to have one of their usual talks.

"I could and maybe I should" she replied calmly, raising her eyes and handing him finally one of the two glasses. "But this way I can have a drink too without any witnesses and so without my mother knowing…"

He couldn't help but smirk in amusement. Oh, so it was about the whisky and not about him in particular, then.

"Well, but I am a witness. How can you be so sure that I won't tell Lady Violet? Actually, this is exactly what I should do…"

Smiling kindly at his evident teasing voice, Rosamund didn't pretend to be disappointed nor annoyed; instead, she just stared fully at him with a somewhat daring look.

"I'm sure you won't. Because we are friends, Doctor Clarkson, aren't we?"

Once again she was being unpredictable, once again he was unprepared. In that very moment, Richard felt his own heart warm a little at the thought of being called her friend and he couldn't tell himself if it was for a good or bad reason. He chose to ignore that potentially dangerous trick anyway and just shook his head.

"No need to worry, Lady Rosamund. I won't tell anyone or else I would have also to admit that I'm willingly drinking whisky instead of scotch" Richard joked, while taking some steps in her direction in order to to place the now empty glass down on the table.

But, as soon as he fullfilled his purpose, his look was soon called back up when an unexpected sound reached his ears and it was the new and foreign sound of her laughter. She was laughing openly, loudly, whole-heartedly and, the unaware lack of control was adding a totally tender note to it.

"You know, Doctor Clarkson, there is a chance I might truly like you…"

Richard just smiled in return. As for himself, he already liked her a lot.

Doctor Clarkson proved to be able to do his job indeed, when Mary Josphine Crawley was born in a hot night of July. His job at the Abbey was done and, as he was walking with Lady Rosamund in the gardens, he knew that it probably was for the last time. Not because hopefully there wouldn't have been any other reason for him to visit the Granthams anymore, but because she wouldn't have been there anyway. He had just arrived in Downton, while she was leaving instead probably for good, and those few months when their lives crossed were coming to an end right in that moment.

"There's nothing like an English summer" she said with a convinced tone when he asked her the purpose of her departure. Then, she went on explaining how she intended to stay with one widowed aunts of hers in London, attend events and, obviously, do what a typical high society young woman was expected to do: find a wealthy and possibly noble husband.

"What kind of man are you exactly looking for?" Richard dared to ask, trying to sound casual.

Rosamund just gave him a quick curious glance. To her, the answer was pretty obvious: it was the idea she had had in mind since she was a child, it was the answer to another question honestly, the one about what kind of life and love she wanted for herself. And yet, she hesitated for some moments before replying and when she finally did it, her voice revelead an unexpected trace of bitterness.

"Actually, it's not that hard to guess. Someone who is handsome, clever, rich... And disliked by my mother!"

She accompanied that last ironic joke with a short laugh, but the amusement wasn't enough to cover the bitterness. As it wasn't enough the slightly mischievous addition she made before surpassing him.

"Too bad that you are not rich, Doctor Clarkson"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Taken by surprise he couldn't help but decelerate instead, letting the distance between their bodies unavoidably increase. Not between their eyes though, because she turned her head to look at him and that stare alone was more eloquent than any other words.

She stared at him and he perfectly knew what she meant.

They met just one more time before that so called "English summer" could have actually started; for the first time it was not a casual meeting and for the first time it was her the one to visit him. Sitting in his own office with a thoughtful expression on the face: that's how he surpringly found her after a quite long surgery.

"The nurse told me to wait for you here" she said, standing up as soon as she noticed his presence.

"Lady Rosamund, are you not feeling well? Is there something wrong?"

Richard couldn't help the personally alarmed note in the voice at that question, but she just shook her head and looked down in uncertainty, remaining silent for some seconds. Actually, it was a strange behavior for a blunt and determined young woman like she was, and, although he still didn't know the real reason of her coming, it was clear that it wasn't meant to involve the doctor, but more likely the friend.

"I'm leaving for London tomorrow, Doctor Clarkson"

Oh, there was something wrong then, but it was nothing unknown to though. She looked up with a somewhat sad look in the eyes and he was sure that in spite of the kind smile he gave her, there was sadness in his eyes as well. Of course there wasn't a concrete reason that gave him the right to feel like that and he hadn't given himself time to rationalize the feelings he had developed for the young lady, but still he was feeling something and that something was a strong something.

"Well, that's goodbye I guess..." he started to say, trying to keep control of his real emotions, "it was nice from you to come all this way to say goodbye... I can tell I will miss our little talks"

He had said something vague but yet nice, he supposed, so he was unavoidably confused when he found Rosamund staring back at him with a new expression. Gone was the sadness, completely overshadowed by a flash of disappointment and even reproachment.

"I don't want your goodbyes, Richard"

He widened his eyes, struck by the effect that hearing his name on her lips had on him. Even if it was filled with a still unexplainable irritation, it unexpectedly came as the sweetest sound to him and that was the reason why, instead of putting a stop to the potentially dangerous situation, he pushed to know more.

"What do you want from me, then?"

An uncharecteristically blush went to cover her cheeks, but it was just a moment before the hesitation she had showed since the first moment suddenly turned into impatience.

"I want you to kiss me" she blurted out, boldly, in spite of her visible embarassment. "I have never been kissed before and I want you to be the first to kiss me"

Richard widened his eyes even more as he remained completely speechless. He was taken aback, incredulous but also flattered and admiring of the woman standing in front of him. Too late he realized that he had closed the door in the meanwhile, too late he realized that she had approached him reducing their distance remarkably; he was trapped and, honeslty, he didn't even want an escape. She was a perfect balance of forwardness and properness, not just because of the contrast between her words and her now reddened face, but also because she was not throwing herself at him but actually asking him to make the first move. And after all she was not even asking, but demanding it. She was not a lady, she looked like a queen and who was he to desobey an order of a queen?

And so, in spite of his doubts and reservations, he leant over her and gently pressed his lips upon hers. He kissed her, not because she was asking it but because she looked beautiful, because he wanted it and because he liked her on the edge of falling in love.

From a first tentative peck, it developed into a more passionate contact and it seemed as that connection between them couldn't come to an end. And even if the end would have come soon indeed, in their memory at least that moment would have lasted for ever, especially in hers.

No matter what was about to happen in London, no matter what life had in store for her, she would have never regretted the fact that the Scottish doctor was the one to give her the first kiss.

And the second. And the third.

Summer 1914

Time flew almost without notice and more than twenty years were passed for them living each their own life. He heard about hers: a rich husband met right during that summer, a chance at love and a sad and quick ending to it; she heard about his: professional improvements, finally held in consideration by her own family, but no wife and apparently no sentimental relationships at all. A barely bearable loneliness and a craving silent need of love was the invisible thread that was keeping them together in spite of the fact they had never met again, but that was something that was about to change too.

It was July 1914 and it was the last moment of unaware peace, when Richard and Rosamund happened to be in the same spot of the Abbey's garden during the annual party. That was when Fate decided to intervene, Fate who for once had Lady Violet's face.

"Mama, do you think that-?"

Whatever question Rosamund was about to ask, was promptly interrupted by a mere look at her mother's left. She was not alone in fact and the person in her company was not a totally stranger. A man in his mid fifty, greying hair and moustache and peircing blue eyes: it was someone the younger woman had never met before, but yet she had the concrete feeling that she knew him.

In the meanwhile, the man was curiously eyeing her as well and even though he was quicker to come to a realization, he was also slower to hide his unavoidable surprise.

"Rosamund, probably you don't remember Doctor Clarkson, do you?"

As they were being formally introduced, their eyes met again after many years and all came back in an instant: their talks, their connection, the kisses.

"I really don't" she finally replied, but then she made a mischievous smirk for only him to see, letting him understand that she actually did remember all too well and opening up to a subtle complicity.

Because after all, while everything had changed, there was still something that had remained the same.

After all, he was still that handsome doctor who was everything but rich enough, and she was still the most interesting girl he had found in England.

Hey there, I hope you are still interested in this collection! I'm sorry this came later than expected. Talking about the chapter, it was probably the most curios one to write, but I thought it would have been nice a pre-series setting and then, actually there is a strong chance that the two had met before she went to live in London... Huge thanks to downtonholick and ravena. thantum for talking about young Richard. See you hopefully soon:)