Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)(53)

Crap. That meant this was all on her shoulders, because—even though she’d had no medical training—she still probably had more knowledge of wound care than the men in this room.

Beth motioned for Winston’s wife to follow her to the basin of water. “What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

“Okay, Mary, I want you to watch me and do everything I do. All right?”

“Aye, my lady.”

“First, we’re going to wash our hands and forearms.” Extending her arms before her, Beth glared at the long sleeves that trailed to the floor. “Adam, these sleeves have to go. Would you please remove them?”

A dagger appeared in his hand. “Where shall I cut them?”

“At the shoulder, please.”

She suffered not even a scratch as he trimmed the material away.

“Much better. Thank you.”

Taking her bar of deodorant soap from Marcus, Beth worked up a good lather and scoured her hands and arms up to her elbows. Mary did the same as soon as another man cut her sleeves away, too.

Beth frowned down at the basin of dirty, soapy water that resulted. “Edward, would you—?”

“Right here, my lady.” Anticipating her request, he set a second basin of hot water down beside the first.

“Thank you. Mary, let’s do it one more time just to be safe.”

Several men continued to apply pressure to the more severe wounds while the two women finished.

“Now wipe your hands with one of these.” Beth handed her one of the antibacterial hand wipes, then used another on her own hands.

Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, she tried to ignore the metallic scent of blood combined with the pungent odor of sweat. “Mary, you work on Miles. I’ll tend Winston.”

Mary wrung her clean hands. “But, my lady—”

“Trust me. It’s for the best.” If Winston didn’t pull through, Beth didn’t want Mary to have any reason to blame herself. “Which wound is the worst?” Beth asked the men staunching the bleeding.

The man beside her removed wadded up linen from Winston’s thigh and stepped back.

Beth’s stomach lurched. Holy crap, that’s deep. “I’ll have to clean it, then stitch it. Mary, you do the same for Miles. More water, please, Edward.”

Beth bent over the man’s thigh. “Light. We need more light, too.”

Torches appeared in several hands, bestowing ample illumination.

It was all too horrible. Thank goodness she hadn’t eaten anything earlier. If she had, it would have come right back up as she pried apart the ragged edges and began removing bits of cloth and broken metal links from Winston’s flesh. “Make sure you get it all, Mary. Every bit of it. Every little speck.”

“Aye, my lady.” She sounded as shaken and nervous as Beth felt.

Winston awoke with a moan and began to thrash about with amazing strength, considering.

“Hold him down,” Beth ordered.

Rough hands gripped his limbs to still his movements.



Mary turned and reached toward her husband’s face.

“Mary, don’t touch him,” Beth cautioned.

The blonde hastily jerked her hands back without making contact.

“Keep working on Miles. You can comfort Winston when you’re finished.”

Mary hesitated, clearly wanting to abandon her gory ministrations in favor of sitting and holding her husband’s hand.

Someone moved to Beth’s side.

When she looked up, she found stony, silent Adam glaring at the other woman.

Mary cast one last longing look at Winston, who seemed ignorant of all around him save the pain, then returned to her ministrations.

Unlike Winston, Miles neither moved nor made a sound while Mary tended the worst of his wounds.

Mary’s gaze met Beth’s.

That couldn’t be a good sign.

“Stitch it,” Beth told her, “then move on to the next.” She glanced around. “Where’s Marcus?”

“Here, my lady.” He peered around Adam, her things still clutched in his arms.

“Set that stuff on the table.”

He hurriedly obeyed.

“Now open the bottle of ibuprofen. That one there.” She had to tell him how since plastic pill bottles with childproof caps were foreign to him. Ibuprofen was a pain reliever, a fever reducer, and an anti-inflammatory. With these wounds, Beth assumed the men would need all three.

“Shake out two caplets.” She glanced around. “Would someone please bring me some water for him to drink?”

Winston looked up at her through glazed eyes. “You are Lord Robert’s woman,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Yes. I mean, aye. You have suffered some serious injuries, Winston. But I’m going to do everything I can to help you. All right?”

He nodded weakly.

“Good. Marcus is going to put some things in your mouth. I want you to swallow them with the water he gives you next. Don’t chew them. Just swallow.”

He did, then lost consciousness again.

Thank goodness. She didn’t think she could poke a needle through his skin with him awake and watching.

“Okay. I’m ready for the honey, a needle and thread, Edward.”

Edward diligently produced them.