I'm so sorry about the delay; partly due to business, partly to distraction. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this, and reviewed me, and to everyone who was nice enough to remind me to finish it! I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Epilogue

She rolled over away from him for a second, stretching her arm out, reaching for something. It was her left hand; he smiled to himself as he saw the rising morning light from the window reflecting off her engagement ring. As she turned back to him, he saw she had picked up her letter to him again, which she had let drop on her beside table as they fell back onto the bed together.

"Show this to Matthew," she told him, handing the letter to him, "Go and see him. Explain your intentions properly and give this to him."

He took it gently from her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "Are you sure you want him to read what you wrote about-..."

Isobel nodded decidedly.

"Absolutely," she assured him, "I don't think anything in it will make his opinion of me lower than it is at the moment. And he needs to understand. This explains everything pretty clearly."

"Yes, it does," he agreed, "Alright then, if that's what you want."

"Matthew's very old-fashioned," she explained to him softly, "In a way, he's a lot more old-fashioned than either of us is. If you go and see him, do things properly, he's bound to come round to the idea more quickly."

"He did look terribly shocked," he remarked ruefully.

She let out a deep sigh, rolling to lie on her back.

"Well, wouldn't you?" she asked, rubbing a hand tiredly across her face, "He's every reason to be angry with me, I suppose, I should have told him."

Richard let out a long breath, sitting up a little to brush the side of her face with his hand. She softened a little under his touch and he saw the frown leave her forehead as she relaxed.

"What you said to him was right, you know," he told her, "It was right of you to tell him how you felt about him wanting to join up."

Her hand took his, bringing to her lips and kissing it, holding it still as their fingers wrapped together and their hands rested, clasped on her collarbone.

"It wouldn't be right of me to try and stop him going, though," she replied, "He's a grown man. It's his decision. I'll see what he says when he comes back, if he still-..."

"I should probably be gone by then," he remarked ruefully.

"Yes, you probably should," she agreed with just as much regret, "He doesn't know you stayed, and I doubt it would exactly get us into his good graces."

He kissed her lips quickly but soundly.

"I love you," he whispered.

"And I love you," she replied, a happy smile spreading over her lips as she looked back up at him.

…...

He did it properly; he made an appointment to see Matthew at his office. He waited anxiously in the corridor, the letter in his gloved hand, unable to stop himself from wondering how he would be received. Isobel had promised him that her son was not habitually violent and was unlikely to want to thrash him to within an inch of his life.

"And if he does," she had added wryly, "You'll be in an excellent place to begin your legal proceedings against him."

Still, Richard thought to himself, it wasn't her who Matthew might want to thrash, and the prospect alone, from where he was standing, was daunting.

But when he was admitted into Matthew's office it was with the utmost civility, a little terse perhaps, but he was offered a chair and asked if he would like anything to drink. He declined.

"There are some particular things I want to say," he announced, taking the chair gratefully, "If you'll hear them."

Matthew nodded. He was evidently disconcerted by Richard's humility and contriteness; perhaps he had expected him to be more brash.

"Go on," he invited him.

Richard took a breath.

"I love your mother very much," he told him, as plainly as he could, "It pains me to think that I might not be doing the right thing by her. I know I haven't in the past, and if I'd been a better man things would be very different to the way they are now. But they're not, and-... I want to make it up if I can. I want to marry her," he explained, "As soon as possible. I've already asked her- she is agreeable to the prospect, by the way- and we have every intention of getting married... irrespective of everything else. It's only fair to her. But," he paused for a second, collecting his thoughts, "I know it would mean so much to her if she knew we had your blessing."

For long moments, Matthew appeared to think about it.

"You'd get married anyway, even if I said no, wouldn't you?" he asked at last.

"I believe we would, yes," Richard replied as diplomatically as he could.

"It's just-... difficult to get used to," Matthew explained, "It's been rather a shock for me to find out that-..."

Richard nodded.

"Yes, I imagine it was," he agreed.

There was a pause.

"Your mother regrets very much that she didn't tell you sooner," he supplied quietly after a few moments, "At any rate, she didn't mean for you to find out like this."

Lifting the letter, now in his coat pocket, onto Matthew's desk, he handed it towards him.

"She wanted you to read this," he continued, "She thought it might help you to understand."

Taking the letter from him, Matthew took in the familiar but slightly altered handwriting, the oldness of the paper. He read the words carefully, his face changing as he followed the lines slowly and thoroughly. There was a lot of Isobel in his face as he read, and that was how Richard knew, before he had finished and looked up at him, that everything was going to be alright.

"Marrying you really will make her very happy, won't it?" Matthew asked at last, handing the paper back to him.

"Yes," Richard replied slowly, "I believe it will. I shall endeavour to that end at any rate."

Matthew let out a short sigh.

"Then it would be wrong of me to stop you, then," he replied, "And, yes, you can tell my mother that I have given my blessing. It's important to her-..." he looked vaguely awkward for a moment, "It's all very important to her obviously and-..." he paused for a second, "She has been very considerate towards me," he nodded towards the letter, one more in Richard's hand, "Really," he added, "I couldn't have asked for a better mother than her."

Quietly, Richard folded the letter, preparing to go.

"We will get married as soon as we can," he told him, "We want you to be there," he explained, "And, with your training-..."

Matthew gave a short smile.

"Yes. That's very kind of you both."

Richard got up, ready to leave.

"Take good care of her, Dr. Clarkson. Make her happy."

…...

They were married on a very clear day. The light was so full and thick as to have an almost solid quality as it fell over the branched of the trees, and the grey graves, in Downton churchyard. It was one of the last evenings of the year that would resemble summer, it was already a little cold.

It was only a small ceremony, just the family were invited. Matthew escorted Isobel down the aisle, wearing the uniform of his new regiment beside her very neat cream skirt suit. Her hair fell in its beautiful golden curls under her hat, Richard beamed at the sight of her and she smiled back at him, her eyes never wavering. It was like she was the only other person in the room. He remembered seeing her in white, at the top of the stairs in that awful old hotel in Ladysmith, in another lifetime, as clearly as if it had been yesterday. He had been married to her in his heart since then. And now-... this was their wedding. At last.

Matthew kissed her on the cheek as he left her at the alter, and then it was only them. He wanted to seize her, pull her close to him, hold her to his heart and never let go. She smiled at him still, took his hand, and he felt her joining in his palpable wish that the vicar would hurry would hurry up- because really this had been done years ago, this was so unimportant, this was the most important thing in the world, nothing else mattered but this. He was aware of every inflection of her smile as the words washed over them both, he was so attuned to her thinking.

They had fought so hard for this, and now they had it. He had placed his ring on her finger, and she placed hers on his. He stared into her eyes, kissing her hand as the vicar pronounced them man and wife. They had fought so hard for this home for themselves. This home would last, it already had lasted, though they knew things around them were going to change. This was all he asked for, all he had prayed for, every night, to a God he did not know he believed in, since he could remember. But maybe there was a God- a God who hears the lonely desperate prayer as he watches the soldiers in foreign lands, as he sees and forgives and seeks to let humans finally heal themselves as well as others- who had finally brought her back home to him.

He held her hand tightly, proudly as they left the church. Hiding mischievously behind the big oak door, Lady Sybil jumped out and threw confetti over them, and in that brief moment of obscured confusion, with no one else quite caught up with them yet, Isobel laughing in surprise, he buried his face beside her ear and murmured;

"I love you so much. I've always loved you."

End.

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