by Abigail Agar
And he was dying.
“Well, I shall leave you for now. Take good care of him, Miss Philips. The doctor should be here soon,” she said.
Lavender nodded, still shocked by everything that had just taken place.
But Lady Beckman was gone, and Lavender looked down to see that she was still holding Lord Beckman’s hand.
Panic washed over her. She had been holding his hand the entire time? No wonder Lady Beckman said those things. Of course she could see that Lavender was in love. Why else would she behave in such a familiar way with a nobleman?
But Lady Beckman had not scolded Lavender, and that was something of a relief. At least she had not got into any real trouble.
When the doctor arrived half an hour later, however, Lavender let go of Lord Beckman’s hand when she heard the approaching voices. She was determined not to get caught again.
When the doctor came into the room, Lavender stood and curtseyed to greet him.
“Miss Philips, how nice to see you,” he said.
“Thank you, and you as well,” she replied.
“How is our patient?” he asked in concern.
Lavender’s eyes filled with tears. She wasn’t sure what to say. After the incredibly upsetting conversation she had previously had with Lady Beckman, she was simply overwhelmed by all that was taking place and didn’t know how to explain what she saw happening before her.
“He … he is not improving,” she finally managed to say, clearing her throat.
The doctor, too, looked at her with compassion.
“Do not worry, my dear. We shall figure this out. He is going to be all right,” he said.
At that moment, Lavender felt as if she understood Lady Beckman. Although she had told Lady Beckman that her son would be all right, hearing the doctor’s same words was frustrating. He didn’t know if Lord Beckman would be all right.
Thus far, he was only getting worse in his illness. There was no sign of improvement, and there could be every chance of only bad things ahead. So why would the doctor tell her that everything was going to be all right when it could, very easily, end in heartache and disaster?
Indeed, Lavender felt bad for having tried to remain so optimistic with Lady Beckman. If only she had been able to set aside her hopes and simply be compassionate and empathetic with Lady Beckman instead of having these hopes, which really accounted for so little.
“Miss Philips?” the doctor asked.
She looked up at him, realising she had been so distracted by her thoughts that she was simply standing there, staring at the doorway as the doctor stood beside the bed.
“Yes, of course, how may I help?” she offered.
“Well, I simply need to examine him, and I do not need any assistance in that, but I worry that you look somewhat piqued as well. Are you feeling all right? I do hope that whatever Lord Beckman has is not contagious,” he said.
Lavender shook her head.
“No, I am fine. I am simply worried for him, that is all. Forgive me. I was distracted. But I do feel fine,” she said.
“Very well then,” he replied, turning to Lord Beckman and beginning his examination.
By the time he finished, Lavender was ready to burst with anticipation of what he would say.
“There has been no real change. I fear that this is still quite serious. For now, please continue diligently giving him the tincture. I hope that it shall help him to sweat out the fever and, possibly, the infection, which has him in this position,” he said.
“Yes, I hope so,” Lavender replied.
“Very well, I must be gone now. I do have another appointment. However, if he appears to be getting any worse, simply send one of the footmen for me. My assistant at the office knows where I shall be throughout the day as I pay calls. I shall return in five hours most likely,” he said.
“Yes, thank you,” Lavender said.
But just as he was going to leave, Lavender saw a very different look in the doctor’s eye. It was something she did not believe he wanted her to see. It was an awful blend of doubt and fear. Clearly, he had little hope. Clearly, he believed that Lord Beckman was not going to survive.
All over again, Lavender was overcome. For the first time, she understood that she would have to accept the reality and that it did not look good.
Lord Beckman was dying. Whatever she had hoped, he was not recovering but rather rapidly deteriorating. He was fading away before her very eyes, coming apart as if he had never had a hope of getting through any of this.
And they still didn’t even know what was wrong with him. Was it an illness? Had he eaten something he should not have as they had originally thought possible? Something was very wrong, but how could they fix it if they did not know what it was?
There were so many possibilities of what could make a man ill, and Lavender wished that her father was with her to figure out what exactly was wrong with Lord Beckman. Certainly, the doctor was a good man, but he was not Lavender’s father. There was no way he could know as much as her father had.
Her father had been the absolute best.
But Lavender felt like a failure. Her father would have been so disappointed, wouldn’t he? She ought to have been better than this. She ought to have been able to cure this man and heal him of everything that was now wrong with him.
It broke her to see that he was not getting better.
And she saw that there was only more pain ahead.
Chapter 32
The sound of the front door opening echoed through the estate and reached Lavender’s ears. It was only a moment before she heard the shrill concern of Lady Foster clamouring against the walls.
Lavender tried to remain calm and not be anxious at this woman’s sudden appearance who detested her so greatly. She wished that she could be at rest despite the understanding that Lady Foster would simply be furious at her presence. But Lavender knew how weak she was and that she could not abide Lady Foster’s disgust.
Nevertheless, by the time Lady Foster arrived, Lavender simply sat quietly, watching Lord Beckman and continuing to monitor him for any change. The doctor looked up and gave a brief glance of irritation at Lady Foster before covering his expression.
“Lady Foster, I was not aware that you were coming,” he said.
“And what does it matter? You are not the one who says whether I am to come and visit. After all, I am being courted by the marquess, am I not?” she asked.
The doctor eyed her flatly but said nothing, and Lavender simply watched the exchange for a moment until he shifted his weight.
“I believe I should speak with Lady Beckman for a moment,” he said, taking his leave.
The moment he was gone, Lady Foster let out a huff.
“Oh, that awful man. He has no idea what grief I am experiencing,” she said.
“Indeed, it is very difficult,” Lavender said, understanding the pain.
Lady Foster narrowed her eyes at Lavender.
“You do not understand either. It is nonsense for you to pretend otherwise. Now, go and fetch me some tea. I have no other need for you,” she said.
“Miss Selby will be making the tea for you already. It is her duty to do as such. My duty is to remain with Lord Beckman as I am his personal maid for the sake of his illness,” Lavender said, feeling bolder than she had expected.
“You are refusing me? Who are you to refuse to serve me?” Lady Foster asked.
“Lady Foster, I answer to Lord Beckman and his mother. To leave and get you tea would be to defy them. Besides, if I go and make you tea now, it would come later than if it comes from Miss Selby, who is already preparing it for you as is her duty the moment she hears someone come to the door,” Lavender explained, quite plainly.
Lady Foster appeared ready to argue but instead scoffed and shook her head.
Just then, Miss Selby arrived and set the tea before Lady Foster, adding the sugar and silently taking her leave.
“Is he going to be all right?” Lady Foster as
ked, beginning to sniff against tears.
Lavender had not anticipated seeing this emotion from Lady Foster. She wondered whether it was genuine.
“I am not sure if he will be all right. I wish I could say otherwise. I wish I had an answer,” Lavender said, choked by her own despair. She had never imagined the sadness of seeing a man she cared for lying there as if already in death. She couldn’t find a way to overcome the horror of it.
“So, what are you saying?” Lady Foster asked.
“I am … I am saying that he may not get through this,” Lavender said, the tears cresting her lower eyelids and spilling down her cheeks.
Lady Foster looked at her in disgust.
“How dare you?” she asked.
Taken aback, Lavender stood, wide-eyed with surprise. She did not understand why Lady Foster was so angry at her at that moment.
“Who are you to be so emotional? How dare you allow yourself to cry? You are not worth anything to him. You are a maid, and that means nothing. What a simple, foolish creature you are,” Lady Foster said, insulting Lavender in every possible way.
“I meant no offence against you, Lady Foster,” Lavender said.
“That is what your kind always says. But you are just a maid. You are worthless. Less than that. I cannot imagine what he and his mother were thinking by having you here. There are far better women out there for this duty, and he would be better served by any of them than you,” Lady Foster said, continuing her tirade.
Lavender remained motionless. She wasn’t sure what to say but knew she couldn’t tell Lady Foster what she really thought and felt. After all, Lady Foster was a titled woman of great means and far beyond anything Lavender might ever be. It was unfair, but there was nothing she could do about it.
Lavender was stuck.
“You have nothing to say in reply? I can hardly understand why you are given any worth or consideration in this home. Now, dry your tears because you do not deserve to cry them. I know that you have fallen in love with him, but you are probably only going to hurt him in the end,” she said.
Just then, the doctor shadowed the doorway. Lavender was stunned by his sudden appearance, humiliated that he may have heard Lady Foster’s words and accusations.
Lady Foster appeared surprised by him as well and shifted uncomfortably.
“Oh, good. You have returned. This woman is not to be anywhere near Lord Beckman,” Lady Foster said.
“Begging your pardon, Lady Foster, but that is not your decision to make,” he said.
“Oh? Well, I beg to differ. She should not be allowed to give him any more of this medicine. Look at him. He is only getting worse. Do you really think that this is what is best for him? How do you know she is doing anything at all to help him?” Lady Foster asked in her rage.
“Lady Foster, Miss Philips is an excellent young woman to assist a physician. She knows a great deal about the field of medicine,” the doctor replied.
“If she knows so much about medicine, why is he getting worse? You must admit that he has not improved, but rather worsened by the moment. He is completely unconscious,” Lady Foster pointed out.
The doctor hung his head, and Lavender knew precisely what it meant. He had clearly been thinking the same thing. He was obviously in agreement with Lady Foster that these methods were not working. And, although they may have been right to an extent, Lavender knew that her tincture should be working. If it was not, it meant that they were wrong in their guesses regarding his diagnosis.
“Lady Foster, what do you suggest we do? Are you so knowledgeable regarding medicine that you have an idea?” he asked.
She straightened her back and firmly nodded.
“Indeed, I do. I believe the best choice is to set aside all of this nonsense with her medicine,” Lady Foster said.
“I see. Why is that?” he asked.
“Because it is not working. We must either use yours only or leave him to see if he recovers on his own,” Lady Foster said.
The doctor cleared his throat and looked at Lavender with an apology in his eyes before turning back to Lady Foster.
“I cannot do what you are asking without speaking to Lady Beckman. However, I agree that our current course is not working as it ought to be. Therefore, I shall administer one dose of my own medicine to him this evening, and we shall see how he fares through the night,” the doctor said.
Lavender fought against the feeling of betrayal. She wanted to be understanding, even if she felt a sharp pain of hurt.
“Very well. It was rather irresponsible of you to allow her to give him medicine anyway,” Lady Foster said, continuing her attack against Lavender.
“To that, I must disagree. Miss Philips knows what she is doing when it comes to medicine. The problem is not her methods but rather that we must be attempting to cure him in the wrong way. We do not know what is wrong, and we must guess accordingly. When I first saw Lord Beckman like this, I did not have the necessary medicine with me,” he said.
“So you just allowed a maid to try and cure him?” Lady Foster asked her tone full of cynicism.
“I trust Miss Philips, and that is not likely to change soon,” he replied.
Lady Foster raised one eyebrow, and there was the faintest hint of a smirk on her face.
“I would not be so sure,” Lady Foster replied.
Lavender did not know what she meant by that, but there was nothing more to be said. She simply continued to sit and wait with Lord Beckman as the other two discussed the matter with Lady Beckman.
At last, it was decided. Lavender could remain near Lord Beckman, but she would not be allowed to give him any medicines or have any sort of option to care for him in his illness.
In essence, she had truly been stripped to simply being a maid.
“I believe that there needs to be a threat of punishment if she disregards these rules of order,” Lady Foster said, directing the suggestion at Lady Beckman.
“And why is that, Lady Foster?” Lady Beckman asked, her brows drawn together in irritation at how much Lady Foster was ordering everyone around.
“Because she may try to heal him when we are not around. She may use more of that tincture, which is clearly only harming him. You know the arrogance of household employees,” Lady Foster said.
“I know the arrogance of nobility, Lady Foster,” Lady Beckman shot back, her own boldness returning.
Lady Foster pursed her lips, but she backed down, evidently unwilling to do battle with the mother of the man she hoped to marry. This gave Lavender a bit of hope that Lady Beckman was not fooled by Lady Foster’s attempts to discredit her.
“There shall be no threat of punishment. Miss Philips, do you promise not to attempt to administer any medicine to my son?” Lady Beckman asked.
“Certainly, Lady Beckman. I shall do nothing without your consent,” Lavender replied.
“Very well. That is all I needed to hear. Thank you, Miss Philips,” Lady Beckman replied.
The doctor appeared every bit as uncomfortable as Lavender did and was quite relieved when the tense moment appeared to be fading away.
“Now, then, I shall give him what I have, and we may be done with all of this, yes?” he asked.
