Page 16 of Lord Trafford's Folly
Eventually, she was done washing the wound out. Turning back and opening one eye, he gasped in dismay when he saw she was threading a needle. It would seem that Audrey was about to stitch him.
She looked up to find him staring at the needle flashing in her hand. “Would you care for some brandy before I continue?”
Swallowing hard, Julius nodded. Even on an empty stomach, anything that would dull the searing pain would be appreciated.
Audrey arched a brow at Patrick, who was hovering with an anguished expression.
“Ah’ll be back.”
Soon, Patrick had returned with a tumbler containing a shot of brandy, along with the crystal decanter. Julius lifted himself on one elbow, grabbing the drink and downing it in two loud gulps. As the warmth of it burnt his throat, the scalding pain subsided a little, and he lay back to woolgather about the breakfast he could smell Rose cooking nearby.
Audrey’s fingers were on him, gripping the area around his wound. She was nimble with the stitching, her precision causing a minimal amount of discomfort other than the prick of the needle and the drag of the thread.
“It is complete.”
Julius opened his eyes, peering down at the sutures along the left side of his midriff.
“Good grief! A couple of inches up and that dirty-dish would have nicked my heart!”
“You were fortunate,” his carer agreed. “Rose, I need honey for the wound before I bandage him. Then he can eat.”
The old servant’s mouth fell open in dismay. “Honey? We don’t ’ave any honey, Miss Gideon.”
Julius was eyeing the plate of food in Rose’s hands, but realized that the room had fallen silent. Looking back at Audrey, he saw she was frowning.
“I must apply honey to the wound.”
Clutching his side, Julius rose to a seated position. “What is it?”
Audrey hesitated before opening her mouth. She shut it again.
His heart skipped a beat. “Is it the wound? Is it worse than you initially thought?”
“Nay.” She shook her head. “But there … will be a fever. It is imperative that I obtain a quality honey to apply as soon as possible. The vinegar should help abate it, but … there is still a risk, I am afraid.”
Dread crept through his veins. Infection and fever as a result of battle wounds took countless lives, but he had not thought that far ahead. He had been focused on reaching an anonymous place to hide out. His veins ran cold as he thought of what that might mean. Surely he was too weak to lose more blood?
“Will you need to do a bloodletting?”
Audrey growled, causing Julius and the servants to pull back in surprise.
“Bloodletting is for butchers! Pompous physicians pretend they know what they are doing, but their mortalities mount up! They have no respect for thousands of years of knowledge which flies in the face of their treatments while people pay for their arrogance with their lives! Nay, I will collect the honey and return to nurse you. It might be a bad night, but I will remain by your side to see you through it.”
Julius was befuddled. He dearly wanted to eat, the imminent fever was worrying, and he had a murderer pursuing him because of his ill-advised antics. Grabbing hold of one fact would lessen the confusion crowding his thoughts. “What has the honey to do with it?”
“The Chinese have used it for thousands of years to treat open wounds. And the Romans used it on the battlefields. Papa experimented with it and found it noticeably reduced infection and healing time.”
Julius furrowed his brow. “You read Chinese?”
Audrey squinted at him in amazement. “Of course not. Papa had translated publications.”
Patrick cleared his throat. “I could collect some from the grocer. It’s two blocks away.”
She mulled on this for a moment. “Nay, I will collect it. I will bandage Lord Trafford so he can eat. Then you must help him up to a bedchamber. I shall collect the honey, and return to treat the wound.”
Julius twisted his signet ring, remembering the risks Audrey was taking. “Are you meant to be somewhere? Lord Stirling left this morning, and you had a trunk in the entry hall.”
She straightened her shoulders as if to steel herself. “Lady Astley is to collect me. She must have been delayed by the rain.”
