by Robin Helm
Mr. Beckett regarded her with sympathy. “I understand your situation better than you know, Miss Elizabeth. My sister and four nieces live with me because her husband’s estate was also entailed. The gentleman who inherited was a married man with a large family of his own, and he assumed ownership of the property immediately. My sister did not wish to return to my father’s estate, and she had nowhere else to go, so I asked her to live at Beltham and help me by keeping the house running smoothly. A lady needs her own household to manage.”
Caroline Bingley gasped, causing her to choke on a bite of roast chicken, and her brother’s lips twitched as he gestured to a footman. “Fawcett, get help. My sister is in distress.”
“Allow me,” said the young physician, standing and using the side of his hand to strike her sharply between the shoulder blades.
The offending piece of fowl popped violently from the lady’s mouth, flew across the table, and hit her indolent brother-in-law squarely in the forehead.
Mr. Hurst dropped his fork and looked up for the first time that evening. “Shall we have any sport tomorrow? Today was a tedious waste of time.”
Several events occurred in quick succession.
Miss Bingley fled the room in tears.
Mrs. Hurst threw her napkin on the table and glared at her husband before she followed her sister, head held high.
Elizabeth stood, blurting, “I must see to Jane.” She fairly ran for the door, her hand over her mouth.
“I shall come with you,” said Mr. Beckett, pushing back his chair.
“And I will wait in the hallway,” added Mr. Bingley, following closely behind them.
Mr. Hurst remained in his seat, calmly finishing both a bottle of wine and his dinner.
Later that night, Jane was sleeping soundly, so the two gentlemen went to Darcy’s room, hoping to find him resting, as well.
Elizabeth was restless. She had missed her walk the previous evening, though she had managed to leave Netherfield before sunrise that morning, determined to have her exercise.
I need to tire myself out, or I shall get no rest this night. She quickly changed into her oldest dress, as well as her walking boots, before she donned her pelisse and bonnet.
After telling Sarah her plan, Elizabeth crept stealthily through the hallway, down the stairs, and out the front door. The sun had set hours before, but the moon was full, and she knew the way to Oakham Mount as well as she knew her own name. Unafraid, she set out at a brisk pace.
As she continued deeper into the trees, she heard a twig snap behind her and looked back. ’Tis only a small animal. No one is there.
Another sound, and she stopped to listen, turning slowly. Footsteps. Something large.
Her breathing increased. Between me and Netherfield. I cannot go back.
She bolted at full speed, hoping to find a place to hide, but her fear drove her forward. I shall run all the way to Longbourn, if I must.
Only a few steps into the open space surrounding Oakham Mount, she tripped and fell, sprawling on the ground, hitting the side of her head on a large rock.
Just before she fainted, Elizabeth thought she heard someone call her name from a great distance. I know that voice.
As she came back to herself, she opened her eyes and saw golden hair surrounded by a halo. “Are you an angel, come to take me to Heaven? Have I died?”
“Thank God!” replied the angel, kneeling next to her. “You are most certainly alive, Miss Elizabeth, though you gave me quite a scare.”
She tried to sit up, but the strong angel stopped her, holding her by the shoulders as he leaned over her. His face is in shadow. I want to see him. She lifted her hand to touch his cheek. There is stubble. Do angels have beards like mortal men?
He untied her bonnet and carefully removed it from her head. I am safe with him.
She felt his fingers in her hair, lifting her head a bit, removing the pins and setting her curls free.
“Let me help you sit up slowly. I would not have you faint again, but I must check your head. You fell and bumped it.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
She felt his hands moving gently across the back and sides of her head, stopping over a tender spot.
“Do you not remember me? I am Thaddeus Beckett, a physician. Fortunately, your bonnet and hair must have protected your head somewhat when you fell. You have quite a lump, but there is no blood.” His voice was filled with relief.
“A physician? Not an angel?”
His laugh was low. Melodic. “I assure you that I am a flesh and blood man – not an apparition and most certainly not an angel.”
He is glorious. “You are beautiful.”
The man stopped and looked down at her. His voice was soft. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You are the angel.” He gathered her up in his arms, holding her as if she were a child.
Tears filled her eyes. “You speak of my sister, I think.” Her voice broke. “You must put me down. I am far too heavy for you to carry.”
“Where did you get such a preposterous idea? You are perfect.”
Elizabeth shut her eyes, and the tears ran down her cheeks. “Mr. Darcy refused to dance with me. He said there was too much of me.”
Mr. Beckett clenched his jaws, striding towards Netherfield with Elizabeth in his arms.
She put her head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart, wanting nothing more than to sleep.
His deep voice rumbled against her cheek as he muttered, “The man is an idiot.”
Do not let your adornment be merely outward – arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel – rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.
I Peter 3:3-4
Darcy had hardly fallen asleep when he awoke to the sound of a commotion outside his door. He tried to sit up, but his head pounded, and he abandoned the effort. His chills returned, so he pulled the covers closer, as he struggled to breathe. I did entirely too much today.
The gentleman reached for the bell his valet had left by his bed and rang it. He waited a few minutes and rang it again, with more force.
Roberts opened the door and bustled into the room, straightening his jacket as he walked. “Yes, Mr. Darcy? What may I do to assist you?”
“I need some hot tea for my throat and something to ease this pain in my head. Could you ask Beckett to prepare something for me?”
Roberts bowed slightly. “I shall bring the hot tea immediately, but Mr. Beckett is with the young lady just now. I will speak to him as soon as he is free. I feel certain Mrs. Brooks kept his directions for making a willow bark brew. I shall tell her to prepare it immediately.”
Darcy raised his head with a frown. “Miss Bennet is worse? Was that the cause of the noise in the hallway just now?”
The valet shook his head. “Miss Bennet is as she was, but her sister fell and hit her head while out walking at Oakham Mount, and the whole house is in an uproar.”
“Miss Elizabeth must be relatively well, or she would not have been able to walk back.”
“Oh, she could not have come back on her own, sir, for she has been in a dead faint or out of her head since her accident, according to what I heard. I do know Mr. Beckett carried her into the house himself and refused to put her down until a room was prepared, for I saw that myself. She is just down the hall in the room beside her sister, and he has not yet left her side.”
Darcy sat up in agitation, headache momentarily forgotten. “She must be badly injured, indeed.” Why was she at Oakham Mount in the middle of the night? How did Beckett come to be carrying her? Were they together? The scoundrel! Did she meet him willingly? Her reputation will be in tatters.
He groaned and grabbed his head with both hands as the throbbing pain came back in full force. I brought him here, thinking he was a man of honour. This is all my own doing, and so must the remedy be.
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br /> “Who else is with Miss Elizabeth and Beckett?”
Roberts looked puzzled. “Why, Sarah, I suppose. Shall I find out for you, sir?”
If Caroline cared the least bit for propriety or what could be happening under her own roof, she would be in there with them. She has made it clear that she despises the Bennets, but does she not realize that her lack of caring for Miss Elizabeth could give rise to vicious gossip connected with Netherfield and her own family? And where is Bingley? The Bennet sisters are under his protection. Since he is nowhere to be found, I shall act in his stead.
Darcy swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I must speak to Beckett. As it appears he will not leave Miss Elizabeth, I shall go to him. Bring me my clothes and help me dress.”
“Sir!” exclaimed the valet. “You can hardly walk, and you must not leave the room for fear of spreading the influenza.”
“Both Miss Elizabeth and Beckett have already been exposed. Dress me at once.”
His voice brooked no opposition, and Roberts rushed to do what he was told. Before a quarter hour had passed, Darcy was fully clothed and walking with his valet’s assistance to Elizabeth’s chambers.
As Roberts opened the door, Beckett stood and faced them.
Livid that he was alone with Elizabeth, Darcy fought to keep from raising his voice. “I must speak with you immediately.”
Beckett raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? I fear our conversation shall have to wait, sir, for I cannot leave my patient alone. Someone must keep her from sleeping for several hours.”
“Then Roberts and Sarah shall stay with her. You and I have business which cannot be delayed.”
Beckett’s gruff tone and narrowed eyes betrayed his anger. “Most certainly. I think we are in complete agreement on that, at least. Sarah should be back very soon. She just stepped out to fetch tea for Miss Elizabeth and me to help us stay awake.”
Elizabeth’s eyes were round as she looked between the two men. Her gaze settled on Darcy. “Who are you?”
All the air left his lungs. She no longer knows me. His heart seemed to twist in his chest.
Beckett leaned over, smiling at her. “This is Mr. Darcy. You know him rather well. Do you remember?”
She closed her eyes briefly. “Mr. Darcy? Why are you here? To disapprove of me again?”
Darcy’s face reddened. “Again? I have never disapproved of you, Miss Elizabeth. I am here only to help you.”
She looked up at Mr. Beckett with adoration. “This angel is caring for me. Is he not beautiful?”
Beckett is a beautiful angel, but somehow, I am the devil? He frowned. This will not do at all.
Sarah entered, bearing a tea tray, and Darcy glanced at Roberts. “You and Sarah shall make certain Miss Elizabeth does not sleep. Mr. Beckett will be back shortly.”
He turned to the maid. “You are not to leave Mr. Beckett and Miss Elizabeth alone together again, and you shall not speak of this below stairs. Do you understand?” Perhaps we may keep the lady’s reputation intact if we can limit the gossip.
Sarah’s eyes were wide. “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. I shall arrange for another maid to sit with you and the physician in case he needs to send one of you for something during the night. I am returning to my chambers. Roberts will keep me apprised of Miss Elizabeth’s health.”
“Shall I assist you back to your rooms, sir?” asked the valet.
“I think I can manage. Beckett, shall we go?” I will not show weakness in front of this man.
Beckett’s blue eyes were cold. “Lead the way.”
Darcy’s ire gave him strength as he walked the short distance to his chambers. He led Beckett to his sitting room rather than his bedchamber and stood behind a chair, using his hands to steady himself.
As soon as Beckett closed the door, Darcy took control of the conversation.
“Why were you at Oakham Mount with Miss Elizabeth?”
Beckett glared at him. “If you must know, I was following her.”
“So you admit it! What were you about, man? She is a gentleman’s daughter. Do you wish to ruin her? Were you having an assignation with her?” Darcy kept his voice to a low growl with great effort. He did not wish for anyone else to hear the conversation.
The physician’s blue eyes flashed. “I was up before sunrise this morning to see to my patients, and I found Miss Bennet asleep in her chambers with only a maid who slumbered, as well. When I woke the girl and asked her where Miss Elizabeth was, she told me the young lady had left before sunrise to walk. The maid alerted me when Miss Elizabeth again left the house by herself an hour or so ago, so I quickly left the house and saw her entering the woods alone. It was dark, and I feared for her safety, so I followed her. There was no assignation. She had no idea I was behind her, and I fully intended to keep my presence a secret.”
Darcy breathed deeply, hoping to calm his temper. “How did she acquire an injury?”
Beckett ran his hands through his hair. “She must have heard me behind her, for she began to flee through the woods. I thought she might fall, so I ran after her, calling her name to let her know she was in no danger. Just as I was about to reach her, she tripped over something, hitting her head on a rock. I could not leave her there in such a condition while I came back for help. I removed her bonnet and found evidence of a head injury. When she awoke from her faint, she did not know me.”
“And you thought carrying her to a house full of people was the best way to protect her character? How did you arrive at that brilliant conclusion?”
Beckett’s jaw hardened. “I was concerned for her health more than her reputation. She was confused and crying. She could not walk. It was my fault she ran and fell, and I tried to make it right.”
Darcy tilted his head, thinking through everything the physician said. “She cried because she was in terrible pain?”
“She cried because of you, ingrate!” Beckett spat in anger. “She did not remember me, but she remembered you and your hateful words. I suspect what you said will ring in her mind for many years. I highly doubt she would have been out in the dark had you not insulted her. I should call you out.”
“You forget yourself, but I shall overlook it this once,” Darcy said, eyes blazing at him. “What hateful words? I have spoken very little with Miss Elizabeth, and I remember every word we have ever exchanged. She must have been talking out of her head. After all, she called you an angel.”
“I forget myself? I think not.” Beckett’s voice rose. “When I picked her up from the ground, she said I must put her down, for she was too heavy for me to carry. She said you refused to dance with her on those grounds. Was she wrong? I would dearly love to think you would not hurt any young woman in that way. However, having observed her briskly walking on two occasions when she should have been safely in the house because of the darkness, I tend to think she is attempting to exercise as a means of becoming smaller in size. When I first met her, I noticed her dress was rather loose, as if she had been losing weight. After I came to that conclusion, I watched what she ate at dinner. It was almost nothing. I further concluded that she said nothing undeserved of you. You have always been a proud man. You think too highly of yourself and too meanly of others.”
The gentleman’s face blanched. Dear Lord. It is my fault that she is injured. What else has she suffered through my thoughtlessness? He looked away. “I did say that, but I have heartily regretted it. I hoped that she did not take it to heart, for I admire her a great deal.”
“You admire her?” Beckett’s chiseled features were set in stone. “Do not worry about Miss Elizabeth’s reputation, for I assure you, I could love the lady quite easily. If she is considered to be compromised, I will gladly offer for her, praying she will accept me. Marrying a beautiful, kind-hearted, intelligent woman has long been my dream. Not only is she physically lovely, but she houses an equally lovely soul. I have looked for a lady like her for several years, but no one has caught my eye until now.”
D
arcy’s heart sank. “Would your family accept her? She has almost no dowry, and her connections to trade would likely displease your father or brother.”
Beckett laughed. “My father is a duke and my brother a marquess. I am but an earl, a title given to me by King George to reward my father for his assistance in the war. I do not need to marry for status or wealth, for I have both already, and they are cold company. My family would approve her lively disposition and faithfulness to those she loves. To be among that select group would be my honour.”
Darcy moved to the front of the chair and sat down, weary to the bone. “How did I not know you are an earl? We have been friends for many years.”
“I have never felt the need to share the information. I enjoy being a physician. Declaring my connections and monetary worth would interfere with my profession. Who would call an earl to heal them? In addition, I would become a target for mercenary mamas and their society daughters. That prospect is unattractive to me. I would much rather marry a gentlewoman such as Miss Elizabeth or Miss Bennet.”
He has not decided on Miss Elizabeth if he names her sister in the same breath.
Darcy’s outlook brightened considerably.
He has no form or comeliness; and when we see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him.
Isaiah 53:2b
Elizabeth opened her eyes slowly, wondering where she was. She lifted her head and glanced around the room. Her gaze came to rest on Mr. Beckett, asleep on a chaise not three feet from the side of her bed.
She could not look away from his unblemished beauty. The man was incomparable in both his face and his form. He is striking beyond anyone else I have ever seen.
Her mind soon took a different path. Why is he here with me instead of with Jane or Mr. Darcy?
Sarah sat in a chair next to him, watching her. She stood and came to Elizabeth’s side. “Oh, you are finally awake!”