This is part of mine and Fourteen Hundred Hours' series celebrating Dr Clarkson, because today we found a new level of appreciation for him. It was rather alarming. Really, really not to be taken seriously.

All was not going to plan this afternoon, and not only because she had been in the same room as Cousin Violet for so long. Things were not going badly because of what was being said- which made a change-, Isobel was barely even listening to the conversation. Speech seemed to be curiously deflecting away from her ears: she was distracted in the extreme.

The source of her distraction, Isobel reflected, was really rather embarrassing; principally because it took the form of Dr Clarkson, the very fine form at that. Thinking this clearly to herself, she steeled herself to blink very precisely; looked at her knees and then back up again. Dr Clarkson? Really, Isobel?

It was rather extraordinary: when he had entered the room he had appeared no more charming than any other time she'd seen him. Of course, she'd always found him a little bit charming, in an albeit condescending way. Especially his voice. Especially his masterful gait. But now... what had come over her? And what on earth had possessed him to suddenly appear so very attractive to her?

There was something in the straightness of his back, his posture, that was driving her almost mad. A terrific dignity in the way he he looked in his clothes- such magnificent clothes, that he wore so splendidly- in the quiet glint of his eye, in the tilting of his head. How she suddenly yearned to touch his ruggedly handsome face.

Isobel, you're sitting in Cora's drawing room thinking amorous thoughts about Dr Clarkson! For Heaven's sake, pull yourself together! Oh, but how handsome he was, how charming! She could scarcely believe that she had failed to notice it before now. Well, she admitted that she had noticed his striking figure when she'd seen him in his uniform last week, but never before had he made such an impression upon her while in his civilian clothes.

She realised that she was staring at him quite boldly, and looked away before Cora or Violet saw her, because this would never in a million years be lived down. Cousin Isobel: fleetingly infatuated with Dr Clarkson. Well, she supposed, they couldn't very well do anything about that: clearly, she herself had no control over who she became infatuated with, it wasn't as if she'd done anything to act upon it. Yet. It was a bad thought if ever there was one to allow her thoughts to take that turn.

It would be best, she concluded, to watch the carpet for a little while. Or the ceiling. As long as she didn't meet anyone's eye, she would be fine. It was most unfortunate that, casting her eyes to the ceiling, she happened to catch his. She felt herself blinking too much and then staring continuously. The roof of her mouth went unaccountably dry. He looked at her calmly, in his perfectly collected manner, contrasting so ludicrously with her own. Goodness, she hoped that he couldn't tell what she was thinking. The idea that he might be able to she knew was ridiculous but with that unyielding expression on his face he could have been thinking anything without any of them knowing. She felt herself grow a little bit flustered.

Goodness, he was handsome. And it by no means helped that he had all but jumped on her a few days earlier in his attempts to answer a telephone. Not that she'd allowed herself to relive that at all. Not that she'd felt her knees go a little bit every time she'd seen him since. She'd convinced herself that she'd been being old-fashioned and curtseying to him out of politeness, but now she realised just how naïve that had been to think.

She thought, for a fraction of a second, that she saw a knowing smile twitch across his face and a slight nod of his head before he stood up. Her eyes were stuck to him.

"Lady Grantham, forgive me, but I think we have just the thing you're looking for for the ward downstairs in the motor ca-... ambulance," he corrected himself. He turned back to Isobel, "Mrs Crawley, if you'd be so good as to help me fetch it?"

Marvelling at his ability to keep pace with a conversation while smiling in such a subtly seductive way, Isobel nodded quickly.

"Yes," she agreed, very relieved for a reason to leave the room and escape the risk of being scrutinised by either of their companions, she did not care what exactly it was that they would be fetching.

She followed him from the room at once. And was delighted, as soon as they were in the corridor, when he kissed her squarely on the lips. Once she had given her obligatory gasp of surprise, she responded with enthusiasm, taking that sculpted face between her hands and allowing him to wrap his arms around her.

"Cad," she whispered when they broke apart, conscious that Violet and Cora were only one wall away, "Have you spent the entire afternoon planning to seduce me?"

There was something accusatory in her voice; she, if anyone, had from time to time seen the roguish side of this particular pillar of the community and would not altogether put the idea of him plotting this all out past him. Not that she minded. This was a most pleasant arrangement, in fact.

In response he simply gave her a look that smacked of his usual frankness and honesty, that belied the way his arms- strong, she noted- wrapped tightly around her. Deciding that she was unlikely to get a sensible answer out of him, she simply kissed him again.

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