The Best Medicine #5
“I brought them for you. I will give you a bouquet of them on the day we marry, if you will consent to be my wife!” Margaret sweetly lifted her face to his and gave him the only possible reply she could.
Two months later, Bessy smiled as she read Margaret’s letter from Scotland, where Margaret and Mr. Thornton were on their honeymoon.
Then she sighed deeply. She was glad that Margaret and the master were so happy together.
Nobody deserved as much joy as her dear friend, who had been the means of saving her own life and helping the workers of Milton.
Bessy was deeply grateful that her own recovery continued so well. She was startled to realize that she had gone from being bedridden to being active and useful in just over two months.
Oh, she had a long ways to go yet. Walking a great distance still wore her out, and the persistent cough would stay with her for months to come.
But nobody doubted any more that she would one day be a useful member of society again.
Eventually, she would learn a new trade, find work, and contribute to the household once more.
Yet, with her return to good health, Doctor Lawson called on her far less often than he had before.
He was busy with his other patients, she supposed.
And he was still trying to find a suitable location for his office.
He did not have the time for a sickly, uneducated factory girl who could make little difference in his life. That dream, she supposed, was over.
Her melancholy was interrupted by a knock at the door. When she opened it, the doctor himself smiled engagingly at her, the sun gleaming on his bright hair. “Miss Higgins, I have come to make sure you are still getting your daily exercise. Have you been out of doors yet today?”
Bessy drew herself up. “There is no need,” she answered, unconsciously imitating Margaret’s educated manner. “I can walk quite well on me own now.”
“Yes, well, there is someplace very particular I would like to show you,” he persisted, not put off. “Will you come with me?”
Curiosity overcame her reluctance, and she fetched her heavy shawl.
Lawson offered her his arm and they walked together down the street, just as if she were a regular lady entertaining a caller.
Bessy wondered if this was how fine society ladies felt when they were out with their beaux – proud and embarrassed and happy and shy all at the same time.
Eventually, they stopped outside a small house that appeared to be unoccupied.
Cobwebs covered the ancient window that opened out to the street, and the front door creaked when Lawson opened it.
Lawson led Bessy inside. “My new home,” he announced with pride.
“This is where I will set up my practice.”
Bessy looked around approvingly. “This is a first rate place!” she announced. “And so handy fo’ a doctor!”
“This first floor area is where I will see my patients when I am not making house calls,” Lawson told her.
“It’ll do nicely fo’ that. Yo’ can put a desk in this corner, and set up chairs along this wall.
The back rooms can be where ye’d see yo’ patients.
” She used a corner of her apron to dust off a nearby piece of furniture.
“Look! Yo’ can put medicines and such right ‘ere in these cabinets.” She moved from room to room, examining each one eagerly. “Where do these stairs go?”
“Upstairs, to the living quarters,” Lawson answered, watching her carefully. “There will be room for as large a family as I could want.”
“A family,” Bessy repeated flatly, her heart sinking. She stared down at her shoes. “So you’ll be wantin’ t’ get married, then.”
“Yes. Miss Higgins, will you share this with me . . . as my wife?”
“Yo’ wife!” She whirled around to face him. “Yo’ can’t mean that! Yo’d want someone educated, someone hoo knows the right way t’ speak and act in front o’ all yo’ fine friends! Yo’ dinna wan’ me!”
“I want someone to help me manage my little practice. My wife must be someone with a compassionate heart. She must know poverty and illness first hand. She must understand the people of Princeton and be someone they can trust. Above all, despite the hardships she will see on every side, she must be ready with a joke or a laugh at any time. Miss Higgins, will you marry me?”
Bessy’s eyes were wide. “What makes yo think I can do all those things ye just said?”
Lawson laughed. “What makes you think you can’t? You’ve been doing them as long as I have known you.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think ye’ve gone clean out o’ yo’ head!”
He crossed the room quickly, reaching out to take her hand in his. “I have fallen in love with you, Bessy Higgins. Tell me you will be my wife and make me the happiest man on earth.”
Hearing those words, Bessy smiled and put her hands on his shoulders, feeling that she might burst from a sensation she’d never experienced before: pure joy. “Aye, I will marry yo’, if yo’ insist on it.”
“Oh, I do indeed.” Lawson bent his head and kissed her soundly. “Doctor’s orders.”
When Margaret and Thornton returned from their wedding trip, she found that Thornton had arranged for bouquets of yellow Helstone roses to be delivered to her new home.
There were displays on every table downstairs, and a vase filled with the delightful flowers welcomed her to her new bedroom.
She sank down onto the dressing table chair to inhale the scent.
An envelope sitting on the table caught her eye. She opened it eagerly while her husband supervised their bags being brought into the house.
When Thornton came into the room he found Margaret sitting as if in a daze, holding the note in front of her. “My love, are you all right?”
Margaret looked up at him with the starry glow that he loved so much. “You will not believe me if I tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Bessy has sent me a message. She and your Doctor Lawson – they are getting married!”
“Married!” Thornton took the note from her and scanned its contents for himself.
“To think how ill Bessy was when they first met!” Margaret exclaimed as he read. “And not only is she much better, but she is getting married soon. Did you have any suspicion that Doctor Lawson cared for her?”
“I suppose I should have,” Thornton answered, putting the letter back on the table. “It is not really so surprising, when you think of it. He must have been suffering from the same illness that affected me.”
“Illness! Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean that I was sick with love for you, my dearest.”
“Oh! I thought you meant a real illness, one that a doctor might be able to cure.”
“There is no cure, but there is a treatment.” He looked down at her roguishly.
“What cure might that be?” Margaret asked, with a teasing smile. Thornton pulled her to her feet, heedless of whatever servants might be nearby.
“You have the only treatment for my condition, Mrs. Thornton,” he whispered in her ear, just before soundly kissing her. “Love is the best medicine of all.”
Elaine Owen was born in Seattle, Washington and was a precocious reader from a young age.
She read Pride and Prejudice for the first time in ninth grade, causing speechless delight for her English teacher when she used it for an oral book report.
She practiced writing in various forms throughout her teen years, writing stories with her friends and being chief editor of the high school yearbook. She moved to Delaware when she married.
In 1996 she won a one year contract to write guest editorials in the Sunday edition of The News Journal in Wilmington, Delaware, and she continued her writing habit in political discussion groups and occasional forays into fiction.
In 2014 she began to write Pride and Prejudice fan fiction and decided to publish her works herself to see if she might possibly sell a few copies. Thousands of books later, the results have been beyond her wildest hopes, and she plans to continue writing fiction for the foreseeable future.
When she’s not writing her next great novel, Elaine relaxes by working full time, raising two children, volunteering in her church, and practicing martial arts. She can be contacted at elaineowen@.
Elaine Owen’s other books include: Common Ground, Duty Demands, Mr. Darcy’s Persistent Pursuit, One False Step, Love’s Fool, and An Unexpected Turn of Events