"I'm telling you, she's NOT gone!" Jon said to Lord Beckett that night. They had brought Heathers body back to the manor, and laid her down on the couch in her room. "She's just in a coma!"
Beckett rolled his eyes. "Jon," he said, exasperated, "the doctor pronounced her dead. It's nature. Everyone dies." He did not wish to talk about it. It hurt too much.
"No," Jon said, a serious look in his eye, "her death wasn't natural."
"And how is that?"
Jon looked around, and then said in a hushed voice, "My wife just told me today, she poisened Lady Beckett's food with a poisen from Africa. That's why I arrived at the Doctors office today, I wanted to give Lady Beckett this, before it was too late," He held out a vile filled with purple liquid.
Beckett took it, and looked it over for a second. "How would this help?"
"It's the only antidote for her poisen in the world." Jon said, walking back over to the body, and placing his ear on her chest.
"Well," Beckett said, thinking over what Jon had said, "why do you think she's in a coma?"
"Because," Jon said, his face brightening up, "I thought I saw her blink just a little while ago. And come here, put your ear on her chest and listen."
Beckett pressed his ear against her hear, and listened, hoping with ever inch of his body. Sure enough, after about a minuite, he heard a thump. As he lifted his head, a faint smile danced across his lips. "Quick, Jon! Give her the antidote!"
Jon rushed over, and dunked the viles contents down Heathers throat. They waited for a second to hear a sound of life. Sure enough, the sound of breathing beat against their ears. As they sat there, marveling at the magic of it all, Jon gulped, and said, "Lord Beckett, it is in my best wishes, that you arrest my wife, Annemarie Brown."
"Exactly what I was thinking, Jon," Beckett said, with a hint of anger in his tone. "But if I may ask, what prompted her attempted murder?"
Jon looked down, and shuffled his feet. "Jelousy, sir. She had wanted to be the only lady in Port Royal to have twins, but then Lady Beckett beat her to it."
"Attention starved, I see," Beckett said, looking out a large window. "Very well. She will be fired and booted out of her apartments here, and I shall write a letter to the king requesting her inprisonment. Would you like me to ask for his permission to annul your marriage?"
"If you would, Lord Beckett. I do not wish to be married to a wretch such as she."
"No man does, Jon," Beckett said, lighting a candle, and writing something down. "Set this in my office. Mercer should see it when he comes in tomorrow. And, Jon, if you would, please let the lady and I have a bit of time alone."
"As you wish, sir," Jon said, taking the note, and shutting the large door behind him. Beckett walked back over to where Heather was lying, and kissed her soft lips delicatly. Just then, he heard a soft moan, and saw me fluttering my eyes as though I had just been sleeping.
"Cutler?" I asked him softly, looking around the room. "What happened?"
Cutler was now breathing heavily; obviously excited. "You were poisened!" He said, grinning widly, and kissing me.
I gaped at him. "Then why are you happy?!"
"I-I'm not happy that you were poisened, I'm happy that you're alive! Annemarie Brown, the cook, she poisened you! And then Jon, Jon gave you an antidote! Everyone thought you were dead, but you were just in a coma."
As I recalled all of the events, I began crying. "I could have, I could have,… Cutler, I love you so much!" I stood up, and threw my lips onto his. We stumbled into a slow waltz, my hands wrapped around him, holding on for dear life. As I took his wig off, he fubled around a bit with the buttons on the back of my gown. "I thought I'd never hold you again," He whispered delicatly into my ear.