Thanks for the ride, my dear readers. It was a pleasure writing for you! I'm not sure it was always a pleasuree for my beta, but she saw it through with great patience and wonderful suggestions! I love you, Darling :-)

Let me know what you think about the last chapter!

Chapter 7

She had forgotten how tall this man was, Isobel realized when she raised herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him. At first he was paralysed, but as soon as her lips touched his, he jerked away, as if he feared her touch to be poisonous.

"What's happening here?" he asked cautiously, her wrists caught in his hands. She had simply steamrolled him with her bold approach. Not that he didn't want or that he minded to be kissed by her, but he certainly could do without another goodbye kiss. He was tired of false hope and uncertainty.

"I love you," Isobel stated softly. "And I want to be with you."

"Are you quite sure?" Dickie swallowed nervously. He needed to be sure that she meant what she said. He wouldn't survive if she left him again.

"Yes," she said and cupped his face in her hands. She felt how tense he was, saw the fight within his eyes and so she added gently, "Unless you don't want me anymore. I wouldn't blame you."

"I will always want you," he admitted, his eyes searching for sincerity in hers.

"Then you will accept me?" Isobel asked hopefully and leaned against him.

"Good Lord, yes!" He placed his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her against him. He kissed her longingly until they were both left breathless.

"I wish I could marry you right now," he said, when he forced himself to break free from her.

"I doubt they were aiming Gretna Green at us," Isobel replied with a chuckle.

"Then I'll have to live with your promise not to go off me again."

"I won't," she promised, as she snuggled up against him. "I swear it. Come hell or high water!"

A few days later

"I don't believe it!" Isobel was flabbergasted. Violet and she were having tea in the salon at Grantham House. After Isobel had returned from Dickie's house Carson had handed her two letters. One had been from Larry Grey and the other from his younger brother Timothy.

"Why don't you believe it?" Violet asked lightly.

"Why would Larry welcome me in the family all of the sudden? And why Tim? How can he even know what is going on? He's been on the continent for the last few weeks!"

Violet shrugged, while Isobel reread a part of Larry's letter out loud. "I wish you every happiness and I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive my impertinence." Isobel gave Violet a look. "I'm sorry, but this doesn't make sense."

"Oh, but it does," Violet argued mildly. "You know his secret now. What do you think would happen, if somebody learned about his liaison with Miss Grant, and her accident? Perhaps he thinks that you'll keep quiet about everything when you're part of the family."

Isobel wrinkled her forehead, still a bit unconvinced. "Still... he even says he contemplates going to America."

"That sounds indeed too good to be true," Violet admitted amusedly. "So, did you set a date?"

"Not yet," Isobel said. "There's no rush."

"If I were Dickie Merton I wouldn't let any grass grow under your feet, once you agreed to do the right thing," Violet quipped with a satisfied smile on her face.

"We will get married," Isobel said determinedly. "Don't you worry!"

Cavenham Park, 6 months later

Isobel closed the book she had been reading for the last hour and suppressed a yawn. A quick glance at the clock told her it was already after midnight. She looked at the empty space next to her and wondered why Dickie hadn't come to bed yet. When she had gone upstairs, he had promised to follow her soon. It wasn't like him to keep her waiting, but he had been acting strangely all day long and that got her worried. She had a feeling that he was keeping something from her. They had been married for three months now and those three months had been the happiest times she had spent in decades. Today was the first day he was absent-minded and even short with her. And now he stayed downstairs, in the library she assumed reading or better brooding over something. The alternative was that he had decided to sleep in his dressing room for the first time in their marriage and the idea scared her more than she wanted to admit.

If she had done or said something wrong, she couldn't recall what it was, yet it wasn't like him to retreat from her like that.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep, before she knew what was wrong with him, she climbed out of bed and slipped into her dressing down.

To her relief she found him in the library where he was sitting in his favourite chair by the fireplace. He held a letter in his hand and was staring into the flickering fire. He didn't notice her as she slowly approached him and startled when she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Isobel!" Perplexed he looked up to her.

"I'm sorry," she said warmly, "But I was wondering if you had fallen asleep in here."

"No. I was just thinking." He folded the letter and put it back into the pocket of his dinner jacket. Knowing now that she was right with her inkling, she sank down in front of him and touched his knee.

"What is it? Can I help?"

Touched by her loving gesture he caressed her cheek. "No, my Darling. It is nothing I want to trouble you with."

"Perhaps I want to be troubled by the things that trouble you," she suggested lowly.

A smile broadened on his face, "I really don't deserve you."

"Please, tell me," she urged him. "You worry me. Are you ill? Have I done something wrong?"

Surprised, he shook his head, "I'm not ill and it's certainly not you. It could never be you."

"So? You know I'll pester you until you tell me the truth!"

He sighed in defeat, "You could never pester me, but I see that I can only lose this battle. The letter," he patted his pocket. "It's from Larry."

As always when Larry's name was mentioned, Isobel froze. Since he had moved to America shortly before their wedding, they had barely heard from him. Larry hadn't been at their wedding and neither she nor Dickie had been exactly sad about it. As far as Isobel could recall this was only the third time Larry had ever written to his father and the expression on Dickie's face told her, he wasn't happy about the content of the letter.

"What does he write?" She asked cautiously.

"He wants to get married," Dickie replied with a heavy sigh. "And guess the name of his bride to be."

Isobel shrugged cluelessly, but then it dawned on her. "Elizabeth Grant?"

"Yes," Dickie confirmed. "Apparently they met in Boston at a cocktail party and got reacquainted."

"And you don't like it," Isobel concluded lowly. She knew she was being ridiculous, but every time she thought about the young woman she felt a sting in her heart. She suspected she would never not feel jealous of the young woman. She had never openly admitted it to anyone, but she was glad Elizabeth had emigrated to America, far away from Dickie and her. Out of sight, out of mind.

"It'll never work out between them," Dickie said. "This marriage is doomed to become a failure."

"But isn't that something they must find out by themselves?" Isobel asked, hoping she didn't sound too harsh.

He agreed, "Of course, but there are mistakes that can be avoided. Larry and Elizabeth are as ill suited as Ada and I were. The whole idea is insane!"

"So, will you go there?" She asked, dreading the idea of going to America to deal with Larry and his future bride.

Dickie sighed, but eventually shook his head. "No. I doubt I could make a difference. I just hate the idea of two young people ruining each other's lives."

Isobel lowered her eyelashes, aware how selfish she was when she simply wished Larry and Elizabeth would stay abroad. "Yes, I know."

He reached out and gently lifted her chin so that she had to face him.

"I just want everybody to be as happy as I am with you. Even the people who perhaps don't deserve it," he declared softly and bent over to kiss her. She swiftly slipped into his embrace and returned his kiss with hunger, hoping to erase the memory of the sorrow Larry and Elizabeth had caused her.

"I love you," she whispered, as his lips found the way down her neck and found the little spot underneath her jaw where his touch used to cause shivers all over her skin. "Let's go upstairs." Her husky demand caused him to smile. He withdrew and together they rose to their feet. He slipped his arm around her waist and together they left the library to go upstairs, happy to know they had found each other.

Demons are like people. Some leave us as time passes by, other stay with us until we draw our last breath. ~ Grace Bennett

~The End~