Written for the prompt (that I just couldn't leave alone)Isobel finds an abandoned baby in back of her house and calls Doctor Clarkson to see if it's okay. What happens next?

This is probably late/post-series 4, and probably a oneshot.

For what felt like the first time in year- what probably was the first time in years- Isobel Crawley was running to the hospital; well, at any rate, moving as fast as her load would allow her to. She had absolutely no wish to attract attention to herself in her present... state, and not only for her own sake, but equally she wanted to be at the hospital as fast as she possibly could. Taking the shortcut through the graveyard, she glanced down at the grey bundle she held snuggly against her chest. The child was still asleep, thank God. That would certainly make things easier.

"I need to see Dr. Clarkson," she announced briskly as she entered the hospital, "Now. Tell me he hasn't gone on his rounds yet."

"No, he hasn't. He might be getting ready to leave though."

"Thank you," she replied, and, without waiting to be asked, made her way swiftly along the corridor to Richard's office.

He turned as she opened the door, a look on his face as if he was about to object to the interruption. It vanished as he saw her expression, and confusion filled his face as he caught sight of the bundle in her arms.

"What in heaven's name has happened?" he asked her, putting down the piece of paper he had been reading.

"Something terrible," she replied, gently holding out the baby in her arms for him to see.

"Good God," he murmured.

"Left on my doorstep," she told him, "I brought her as soon as I'd warmed her up enough to risk the cold outdoors."

"A little girl?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Newborn?"

"Yes," she told him again, "She's tiny under all of these blankets."

"Did you wrap her up?" he asked her, "Or was she like this when you found her?"

"She was just in this grey one when I found her," she replied, "The rest are mine. They were Matthew's when he was a baby."

She felt her eyes close heavily. There was a pause. For a moment she thought he was going to try to take the baby away from her but thought better of it.

"That was careless," he remarked after a moment, "On such a cold night."

"Is abandoning a child not careless enough in the first place?" she asked sharply, a lump seeming to rise in her throat, "How can anyone abandon a child?"

Richard looked downwards for a moment.

"I think you're very aware of the several reasons why someone might abandon a child," he told her gently, and then, more quietly still, "I know they're difficult for you to accept at the moment."

She could not think of anything to say, and felt tears start to well in her eyes, very much against her will.

"Here," he told her, "Do you want me to take her?" he asked, "Have a look at her?"

She nodded silently, handing the baby over as carefully. He took her, and as he did so, she turned away, gathering herself.

"Well, you certainly seem to have warmed her up well," he remarked.

She sniffed in reply.

"I take it you fed her too?"

"I gave her a little warm milk," she answered, "I didn't think she could manage much more."

"No. Very sensible," he agreed, "This grey blanket," he continued, examining a corner of it briefly before tucking back round the baby and picking her up again, "Did you have any suspicions as to where it could have come from?"

"No," she replied honestly, "I imagine you'd fine such a blanket in any number of houses in Downton. Why, I suppose you'd even find one in the servants' quarters at the Abbey if you knew where to look."

His eyes narrowed a little, but he did not pursue the point just then.

"Well, the blanket is in fairly good condition, so whoever left her here is obviously not destitute."

"No," she conceded, "But can you really say they're fit to take care of a child either? After this?"

He shook his head slowly.

"We're asking these questions too early," he told her, sighing a little, looking down at the little body he was holding, "What we need to do is to find her first of all. Would you like to hold her again?"

"Yes," Isobel whispered, quickly, honestly.

As Richard passed the bundle back to her, she got the feeling he was barely suppressing a smile. But the next moment, her eyes were on the crumpled little face again.

"She's gorgeous," she murmured sadly.

"Yes," he agreed, looking back up from his desk, then, "We need to telephone the police."

"Already?" she asked, taken aback and, she had to admit, a little disappointed.

"Yes," he replied, not unkindly but still firmly, "If we're going to find her mother."

"Oh."

"Were you hoping we'd be able to keep her?" he asked, half-joking.

She tried to laugh, but found she couldn't.

"I don't know," she admitted, "Perhaps."

"As tempting as the thought may be, we have a duty to report this, Isobel."

"Yes, I know," she replied.

The telephone receiver was in his hand, but a second later he put it back down, moving back towards her.

"Whoever left her cared enough to bring her to you," he pointed out to her, "They did what they could for her in that respect at least."

Surprised, genuinely touched, by this remark, her eyes drew quickly up from the baby's face to his. He smiled at her earnestly, and she smiled back at him.

Please review if you have the time.