Sorry for the delay in posting this part
Though she'd been told what had happened by numerous people, Jess hadn't quite been able to take any of it in. Her ability to focus on anything outside of Becker had been lost the moment she'd laid eyes on him, lying motionless on the cot in the court physician's rooms.
His bloodied shirt lay discarded on a bench not far away, his lower half covered by a sheet but his chest and the blood stained bandages covering it were exposed. His face was pale, its pallor alarming.
"He has sustained a serious wound," the physician had explained. "He had bled profusely, Lady Becker. I have done all I can for him but..."
The rest of the physician's assurances had been lost on her. As had Queen Elizabeth's tearful declaration that her husband's bravery should make her proud, and that Becker had done his country and his King a great service by taking the arrow meant for her husband.
At Jess's request, she had been left alone with Becker. As soon as he was able to be moved, she'd asked for it to be done and the ever grateful Royal couple had seen to it that their fallen knight had been carefully carried to the room he and Jess shared.
Excused from her other duties, Jess spent every minute of every day and every night at Becker's side, tending to him as best as she could. When his wound became infected and his temperature rose, she obediently followed the physician's precise instructions and wept at his side when she was sure no one was around to witness it.
"Please stay with me, Hil," she begged, taking his limp hand in hers and pressing a kiss to his palm. "Don't leave me. I need you, Becker. Please don't leave me."
Her heart broke at the thought of being without him, and it wasn't just because she'd then be alone in the wrong time. She didn't think she'd realised just how much she truly did love him until the threat of losing him to an infection that could have been treated so easily in their own time became a very real possibility. Whether in the fifteenth century or twenty-first century, she didn't want to be without him. Couldn't imagine it, in fact, and all of the times she'd come close to losing him kept replaying in her mind, tormenting her, making her worry that this time, his luck had finally run out.
"Stay with me," she urged, closing her eyes as she pressed his hand against her cheek. "Keep fighting Becker. Please."
On the fifth day, as she used a damp cloth and bowl of water to clean the sweat from his face and chest as his body battled the infection that had him in its grasp, she heard the door open and close without her visitor announcing themselves. Without turning away, Jess tensed but kept her focus on the task at hand.
"My Lady Becker." Though vaguely familiar, she couldn't identify the man who spoke without turning around. "Please accept my apologies for the intrusion..."
Glancing over her shoulder, Jess recognised one of Becker's fellow knights, Sir Edmund. His green gaze was locked on her, uncomfortably intent, so she turned away and refocused on her husband. "Sir Edmund. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"
The sarcasm was lost on him. Sir Edmund cleared his throat and she heard his boots against the floor as he took a step closer. "I wish to state my intentions towards you, Lady Becker, in the eventuality that Sir Hilary does not survive."
"Intentions?" Surprised caused her to look at him again, her fingers tightening around Becker's as she let their entwined hands rest on the bed at his side. "I'm afraid I don't understand?"
"And it is that which makes you all the more endearing, my lady. That, and your unusual way with words." Sir Edmund took another step towards her, his broad shoulders squared. "Should Sir Hilary pass from this life into the next, I wish to make you my wife. I will ensure that you are well provided for, Lady Becker, and all I request in return is that you perform your wifely duties."
"Wifely duties?" Jess repeated in disbelief. "My husband is fighting for his life and you think it's appropriate to come here and, what, proposition me? Seriously?"
Sir Edmund frowned at the question. "I am sure I will not be alone in stating my intentions, my lady, but I had hopes that were I the first, your affections may be swayed towards me."
"Then I'm sorry to dash your hopes, Sir Edmund, but my affections lie solely with my husband and will remain with him no matter what happens." She swallowed the lump in her throat at the thought and attempted to glare at the knight standing before her. "I have no intention of marrying anyone other than my husband."
"You say that now, Lady Becker, but you will learn that court is no safe place for an unwed woman, not even a widow of a man as respected as Sir Hilary." Sir Edmund's eyes narrowed. "You should be grateful that I have come to you to state my intentions. There are those who would not do s and would instead presume to take what it is they desire."
A shudder danced its way along her spine and Jess turned away from him again. "Thank you for the warning, Sir Edmund, but my mind will not be swayed. Not by you or anyone else."
She half expected him to stay and fight his cause but was relieved when she heard the door open and close again as he left. Her shoulders slumping, Jess lifted Becker's hand to her lips once again.
"Come back to me," she murmured softly. "Please. I need you to wake up and come back to me."
Becker slept on, oblivious to her plea.
Sir Edmund's prediction proved to be accurate. In the days following his proposition, there was a steady stream of visitors to the couple's room – not well wishers as Jess hoped but prospective suitors, all of who wished to express their interest in her and some who did so more aggressively than others, making Jess grateful that Sir Lawrence was a regular visitor out of respect for his fallen friend.
Rather than being flattered by the attention, Jess was disgusted by it and said as much to Queen Elizabeth when the other woman paid her a brief visit to enquire after Becker's condition. The Queen had merely laughed humourlessly and not for the first time wondered aloud about the younger woman's view of the world in which they lived.
"A good woman," Elizabeth explained gently, "is a man's most precious possession. She can aid him in his ambitions, support him through times of strife and bear him heirs he needs to secure his position. All powerful men seek a loyal wife, Jessica, and you have proven yourself to be admirably so."
Whenever she tried pointing out that her loyalty only extended as far as the man she was currently married to, no one seemed to listen so Jess eventually stopped trying. When Becker's fever broke and the physician announced that he was over the worst, she allowed herself to cry in front of the old man who patted her shoulder comfortingly.
"He is strong," she was told, "with much to live for."
Still, it was another three days before Becker woke up. Closing her eyes for what she told herself would only be a few moments, Jess was startled awake by the sensation of someone running their fingers through the ends of her hair.
Sitting up quickly, blinking to clear the sleep from her eyes, she expected to find one of her unwelcome admirers in the room so was overjoyed when she realised the man gazing at her tenderly was the one she'd been happily dreaming about.
"Becker!" She threw her arms around him, mindful of his chest wound, and pressed her face into the crook of his neck when he shifted to return her embrace. She couldn't stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks and soaked his skin and tightened her hold on him when he tried to move away to look at her. "Don't do that to me again," she mumbled, her voice muffled against him. "Ever."
His chuckle was wry, his voice hoarse from days of disuse. "I'll try," he promised gently, "but you might have to tell me exactly what it is I can't do."
Pulling away, Jess wiped at her cheeks before getting up from the chair she'd been sitting in to settle on the bed beside him. "You got shot," she told him matter-of-factly, "by a bow and arrow. Stupid man. A few inches and it would've hit your heart and I'd be a widow. Well, probably not a widow. I'd probably have been forced into another marriage by now."
"Forced into...?" The hand he'd moved to cover hers tightened and when she looked up at him, she saw his eyes had narrowed. "Have I missed something?"
Jess hesitated, biting her lip as she looked at him before cuddling against his chest, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "It's nothing important. I'll explain it when you're better."
Leaning back against the headboard, Becker let his eyes close when he heard her breathing change and her body relax against him. He had no idea what had gone one while he'd been unconscious but promised himself he'd find out.
And now I'm not mean! Yay! ;)