*April 18, 1912 - Crawley House*
Josh woke early, anticipation coursing through him as he prepared for his first official day at the cottage hospital. He dressed carefully—not in formal attire, but in a professional suit appropriate for a working physician. His medical bag sat ready by the door, filled with instruments and supplies that were slightly more advanced than standard for 1912.
At breakfast, he found Isobel already at the table, reviewing what appeared to be medical journals.
"You're up early," he observed, pouring himself coffee.
"I want to be prepared," she replied, a determined glint in her eye. "I have a feeling Lady Grantham won't make this easy for us."
Josh hid a smile. His mother's confrontation with Violet was inevitable—two strong-willed women with opposing views on practically everything. It would be entertaining, if nothing else.
"Try not to declare war on your first day," he advised gently.
Isobel looked affronted. "I have no intention of declaring war. I simply want to ensure the hospital is providing the best possible care to its patients."
"Of course," Josh agreed diplomatically, though he knew his mother well enough to recognize the signs of impending battle.
Matthew appeared, looking more comfortable in his regular clothes. "I'll be off to Ripon shortly," he announced. "My first day at Harvell and Carter."
"Nervous?" Josh asked.
"Excited, actually," Matthew admitted. "It feels good to be returning to real work."
They parted ways after breakfast—Matthew to his law firm, Josh and Isobel to the hospital. The cottage hospital was a modest building on the outskirts of the village, but Josh was pleasantly surprised to find it clean and relatively well-equipped for a rural facility.
Dr. Clarkson met them at the entrance, looking pleased to see them. "Dr. Crawley, Mrs. Crawley. Welcome. I'm so glad you could join us."
"We're delighted to be here," Josh replied warmly. "Where would you like us to start?"
"I thought we might tour the facilities first," Dr. Clarkson suggested. "Then perhaps you could examine some patients with me, Dr. Crawley? Mrs. Crawley, I understand you're particularly interested in our nursing protocols?"
"Indeed I am," Isobel confirmed. "I have some ideas about improving efficiency that I'd like to discuss."
Dr. Clarkson's expression grew slightly wary. "Of course. Though I should mention, the Dowager Countess takes a keen interest in hospital operations. She's actually due to visit this morning for a board meeting."
Josh saw his mother's expression tighten slightly. "How delightful," she said in a tone that suggested it was anything but.
The tour revealed a hospital that was functional but could benefit from modernization. Josh made mental notes about improvements—better sterilization procedures, updated surgical equipment, more efficient patient flow. All changes he could introduce gradually without seeming too revolutionary.
They were examining the surgical facilities when Violet arrived, sweeping in with her characteristic authority. She was accompanied by two other board members—Mrs. Crawley (no relation) and Mr. Travis, both local worthies who clearly deferred to her judgment.
"Lady Grantham," Dr. Clarkson greeted her nervously. "You remember Dr. Crawley and Mrs. Crawley?"
"Of course," Violet replied, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. "I trust you're finding everything satisfactory?"
"The facilities are well-maintained," Josh replied diplomatically. "Dr. Clarkson runs an excellent hospital."
"Precisely," Violet said with satisfaction. "Which is why I'm sure you'll agree there's no need for radical changes."
Josh caught the challenging look she directed at his mother and tensed slightly.
"No one's suggesting radical changes," Isobel said smoothly. "Merely updating certain procedures to reflect modern medical knowledge."
"Modern," Violet repeated the word as if it tasted unpleasant. "In my experience, modern often means unnecessary and expensive."
"Or life-saving," Isobel countered. "Medical science has advanced considerably in recent years."
The two women faced each other like duelists, the air crackling with tension. Josh decided intervention was necessary.
"Perhaps we could discuss specific proposals at the board meeting?" he suggested. "I have some patients to see this morning, including Tom Bingham. I want to check on his recovery."
"Ah yes, your miracle patient," Violet commented. "I suppose that's one modern intervention we can't argue with."
"Medicine isn't about miracles, Lady Grantham," Isobel said firmly. "It's about applying scientific knowledge to heal people."
"How refreshingly direct," Violet observed coldly. "I do hope you'll bring that same... enthusiasm to the board meeting."
After she left with her entourage, Dr. Clarkson mopped his brow nervously. "That went about as well as expected," he muttered.
"She's rather formidable," Josh acknowledged. "But I'm sure she means well."
"She does," Dr. Clarkson agreed. "But she's not fond of change. This should be an interesting partnership."
Josh left his mother to attend the board meeting—sending a silent prayer for Dr. Clarkson's nerves—and made his way to Tom Bingham's cottage. The farmer lived on the edge of the Downton estate, in a well-maintained stone house typical of the region.
Mrs. Bingham answered his knock, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Dr. Crawley! How good of you to come."
Alice Bingham was younger than Josh had expected—perhaps thirty, with auburn hair and green eyes that held a vivacious sparkle despite her husband's recent ordeal. She wore a simple day dress that nonetheless showed her figure to advantage.
"I wanted to check on your husband's progress," Josh explained as she led him inside. "How has he been?"
"Much better, thanks to you," Alice replied, her hand briefly touching his arm. "He's sleeping now, but the fever's gone completely."
Josh found Tom Bingham dozing in the bedroom, his color much improved from two days ago. The wound, when Josh examined it, showed excellent healing with no signs of recurring infection.
"Remarkable," he murmured, genuinely pleased with the progress.
"You saved his leg," Alice said softly from beside him. "Dr. Clarkson said most doctors would have amputated."
"I simply used newer techniques," Josh replied modestly. "Your husband's strong constitution did the rest."
"Don't be so humble," Alice stepped closer, her perfume—something floral and surprisingly sophisticated for a farmer's wife—filling his senses. "You're a miracle worker, Dr. Crawley."
Josh became acutely aware of her proximity, the warmth radiating from her body. He took a professional step back. "I should check the dressing—"
"Tom will sleep for hours," Alice interrupted, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He took laudanum for the pain. We won't disturb him."
Her hand touched his arm again, but this time it lingered. Josh felt his pulse quicken despite himself. Alice Bingham was a beautiful woman, clearly grateful, and obviously interested. In his previous life, he would have fled immediately. In this one...
"Mrs. Bingham," he began, but she stepped even closer, her eyes locked on his.
"Alice," she corrected softly. "Please, call me Alice. I've been so frightened, so alone while Tom was ill. You made me feel... safe."
Her hand slid up his arm to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Josh knew he should stop this, knew it was inappropriate on multiple levels. But the attraction was undeniable, and he'd never been particularly good at resisting beautiful women in this life.
"Alice," he said, his voice rougher than intended. "This isn't—"
She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him, cutting off his protest. For a moment, Josh's higher principles warred with his baser instincts. The instincts won.
He responded to the kiss, his arms coming around her waist to pull her closer. She made a small sound of satisfaction, her body molding against his with surprising eagerness.
"Not here," he murmured against her lips, acutely aware of her sleeping husband nearby.
She took his hand, leading him to a small sitting room down the hall. The moment the door closed, she was in his arms again, kissing him with desperate hunger.
"I've wanted this since I first saw you," she whispered between kisses. "So confident, so capable. You saved my husband, but you made me feel alive."
Josh's hands explored her curves through the fabric of her dress, rational thought becoming increasingly difficult. This was dangerous, reckless, entirely inappropriate—and undeniably exciting.
"Someone could come," he warned even as he backed her against the wall.
"No one will," she assured him breathlessly. "The servants are in the fields, Tom's asleep. We're alone."
Her hands worked at his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. Josh caught her wrists gently.
"Are you sure about this?"
Instead of answering, she guided his hand to the buttons of her dress. "Make me forget my fears," she whispered. "Make me feel something other than worry."
Josh was lost. He kissed her deeply as his fingers worked the buttons, revealing creamy skin and practical undergarments that somehow seemed more erotic than the finest silk. She gasped as he kissed her throat, her hands tangling in his hair.
What followed was intense and slightly desperate—two people seeking escape from their respective realities. Alice was surprisingly passionate, her farmer's wife exterior hiding a sensual nature that matched Josh's own appetites. They moved together with increasing urgency, muffling each other's sounds with deep kisses.
Afterward, they lay entwined on the small settee, breathing heavily. Alice traced patterns on Josh's chest through his opened shirt.
"I needed that," she admitted quietly. "These past days, watching Tom suffer, feeling so helpless..."
"It's natural to seek comfort," Josh replied, though he was already beginning to feel the weight of what they'd done.
Alice seemed to sense his withdrawal. She sat up, beginning to restore her clothing with practical efficiency. "Don't worry," she said with a sad smile. "I know this can't happen again. I love my husband, truly. But sometimes..."
"Sometimes we need to feel alive," Josh finished gently.
She nodded, tears suddenly brightening her eyes. "You understand."
Josh fixed his own appearance, retrieving his jacket from where it had fallen. The doctor in him was already cataloging the risks—scandal, his reputation, complications with the Bingham family. But another part of him, the part that had fully embraced this second life, felt no real regret.
"I should check on Tom once more before I go," he said professionally.
"Of course." Alice had fully transformed back into the dutiful wife, though her lips were still slightly swollen from their kisses. "Dr. Crawley?"
He paused at the door. "Yes?"
"Thank you. For everything."
He nodded, understanding the dual meaning, and returned to check on his patient. Tom Bingham continued to sleep peacefully, unaware of what had transpired down the hall. Josh made a few final notes about the wound care and prepared to leave.
Alice saw him to the door, their interaction now carefully proper. "Good day, Dr. Crawley. Thank you for attending to my husband."
"My pleasure, Mrs. Bingham. I'll return in a few days to check the wound again."
As he walked back toward the hospital, Josh reflected on what had just occurred. It had been reckless, potentially scandalous, entirely inappropriate for someone in his position. And yet...
This was who he'd become in this life—a man who took risks, who embraced pleasure where he found it, who lived fully in each moment. He helped people, saved lives, but he was no saint. Perhaps that complexity made him more human, more real.
The question was how to balance these aspects of his nature with his new responsibilities. As heir to Downton, he would need to be more careful. But careful had never been his strong suit, at least not in this lifetime.
Arriving back at the hospital, he found the board meeting had concluded. His mother looked triumphant, which probably meant poor Violet had lost several battles.
"How did it go?" he asked Dr. Clarkson, who looked somewhat shell-shocked.
"Your mother is... formidable," the doctor replied weakly. "She's proposed several changes to our procedures, all of which Lady Grantham opposed, naturally."
"And?"
"The board voted to implement them on a trial basis," Dr. Clarkson admitted. "Lady Grantham was not pleased."
Josh hid a smile. His mother's determination was a force of nature when properly directed. "I'm sure it will all work out for the best."
The rest of the morning passed in routine medical work—examining patients, consulting on treatments, performing minor procedures. Josh found the familiar rhythm soothing after the morning's unexpected interlude.
It wasn't until they were returning to Crawley House for lunch that Isobel mentioned her triumph.
"That woman is impossibly stubborn," she declared. "She opposed every suggestion simply because it was new."
"But you won?" Josh pointed out.
"Of course I won. Logic and medical evidence trump tradition, even in Yorkshire." She paused, giving him a sidelong look. "How was your patient visit?"
"Progressing well," Josh replied evenly. "The wound is healing nicely."
Something in his tone must have alerted her maternal instincts. "Joshua? Is everything alright?"
"Perfect," he assured her, pushing away thoughts of Alice Bingham's passionate kisses. "Just thinking about this afternoon's surgery schedule."
But as they entered Crawley House, Josh couldn't entirely dismiss the morning's events. He'd crossed a line, indulged an appetite that could prove dangerous in his new position. Yet he felt no real remorse—only a heightened awareness of the complexities of the life he'd chosen.
This was who he was now—a healer and a sensualist, a future earl and a risk-taker. The challenge would be maintaining the balance without losing himself entirely to either extreme.
As he prepared for the afternoon's work, Josh smiled to himself. Life at Downton was proving even more interesting than he'd anticipated. And he had a feeling this was only the beginning.