Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(196)

“Aye, Madam Beauchamp,” Gaylord agreed, stepping forward then wincing and leaning heavily on his cane. “Let me escort you away. ‘Tis certainly no place for a lady.”

“Oh, don’t be an ass!” Shanna snapped. “I am needed here, and I can help.”

Gaylord’s jaw slackened, and he beat a hasty retreat, colliding with Trahern, who had possessed the good sense to leave his daughter alone. But Berta tried again, though her comment dwindled into a confused stutter as, from the corner of her eye, she caught Pitney flinging the breeches to the floor. Seeing the woman’s distress, Shanna laid a comforting hand on the plump shoulder and spoke gently.

“Berta, I’m—I have been married.” Shanna paled slightly as she realized what she had almost blurted out and continued more carefully. “I am not ignorant of men. Now, please, stay out of my way.”

Berta felt herself dismissed and fled to soothe her abused modesty in the fresh air outside the chamber. Shanna leaned across the bed and held the oil lamp high for the doctor who was again probing into the wound.

The leg was propped on a pillow so the doctor could better do his work. He drew out more splinters and, carefully, a coin-sized piece of cloth. Ruark groaned and twisted. He was still deep in his unconscious state, but not immune to the stabbing reality of pain. Shanna cringed; she could almost feel the agony he suffered. She helped swab the fresh flow of blood, aware that her father studied her intently, puzzled over her concern. She could not hide it, nor did she even try. If he guessed there was more to her anxiety than seemed proper, she’d answer to that later. Right now, all that mattered was Ruark and getting him well.

Some of the poisons were washed away with the blood, and Herr Schauman cleaned the ragged flesh and spread his unguents and balms liberally. Then he bandaged the leg with wide strips until it was held almost immobile.

“ ‘Tis the best I can do,” he sighed. “But if the rot should set in, we’ll have to remove the leg. There will be no question then. ’Tis infected enough already. You can tell by the purplish color and the red which spreads away from the wound. I shall have to bleed the man, of course.” He laid Ruark’s arm so that it projected over the side of the bed and began to set out his knives and bowls.

“Nay!” The word burst sharp from Pitney’s lips. “He has bled enough, and I have seen too many die with their life in a barber’s bowl.”

The German drew back in righteous anger but held his tongue as Trahern spoke in agreement with Pitney. “There will be no bleeding here. I, too, have watched a loved one die beneath a knife, and I do not think it wise to further weaken an ailing soul.”

The surgeon’s lips were white and tightly pressed as he threw his scalpels back into the bag and snapped it shut. “Then I can do nothing more here,” he retorted sharply. “I shall be in the village if you need me.”

Shanna stretched a cool linen sheet over Ruark and touched her hand to his fevered brow. His lips were moving, and his head rolled slowly from side to side. A sudden fear nipped at her. What if he should become delirious and begin to talk or call her name or speak things better left unsaid? Quickly she whirled and began to sweep everyone toward the door.

“Leave now,” she commanded. “Let him sleep. He will need every ounce of strength. I will sit with him for a spell.”

As Pitney and Trahern went off down the hall, Gaylord paused in the doorway. Though Shanna tried to close the portal, he was not daunted by her eagerness to be rid of him. Taking out a lace handkerchief and daintily touching a pinch of snuff to each nostril, he stepped back into the room and glanced about him imperiously.

“Terribly decent thing you’re doing here, madam, after all this fellow, Ruark, put you through.”

Shanna shrugged in annoyance and tried again to usher him to the door.

“I know you must have suffered hideous atrocities at the hands of the pirates.” Another bit of snuff, a sneeze, and the handkerchief delicately dabbed against his nose. “But I wish to assure you, madam, that my proposal of marriage still stands. And in fact, I would advise the nuptials be spoken with all due haste to quiet the rumors that will no doubt spread of your ravishment and shame. Perhaps you even know of a woman on the island who can be of benefit to us should you carry the proof of your ill use.”

Shanna was aghast and for a moment accepted the affront in stunned disbelief.

“Yet I would not speak of your—ah—adventure to my family. Twill be difficult enough to convince them of your rather questionable heritage.”

Shanna became stiff with fury.