Chapter 2
What was that god-awful smell?
And just how long had he been lying here? Surely, a week had gone by, and they had yet to take care of his wound. Perhaps they were hoping he’d die. Then they wouldn’t have to bother operating on an Englishman. That is, if he was in a hospital. He wasn’t too sure about that part.
Some friend Adam was, to leave him in a place like this.
There was that smell again.
Jonathan twisted his head from side to side, trying to escape the odor. No matter which way he turned, the smell assaulted him.
Something cold brushed his face. He jerked at the unexpected sensation. His eyes flew open, but several moments passed before he was able to focus on the white cloth someone was trying to put over his nose and mouth.
Chloroform!
Looking around him with blurry vision, he noticed he was on a table and there was a smaller table beside him where medical instruments had been laid out. He couldn’t seem to clear his mind, but he did faintly remember being in another room with rows of beds and men near him, babbling with delirium.
Again, a white cloth covered his mouth. He tried to shove it away.
Good! At least he hadn’t died. The unbearable pain shooting up his arm told him he was very much alive. A lesser man would be screaming.
“You must hold still, sir!” a stern voice sounded above him. “I don’t have enough orderlies to hold you.”
‘‘Bloody hell! Get that stuff away from me,” Jonathan shouted, struggling to raise his good arm. He tried to shove the man away from him. That’s when he realized just how weak he really was. He had barely lifted his arm, only to have it fall limply back down.
“He’s British!” the doctor shouted. “Get him off my table and bring me a good American soldier.”
“No!” A strange yet familiar voice came from a distance as Elizabeth swept past the orderly who attempted to grab her arm.
“Jonathan fought for New Orleans, not against us, Dr. Blackman. This is my brother’s friend,” Elizabeth Trent said as she drew alongside the bed, placing her hand on Jonathan’s shoulder.
She looked at the haggard doctor who had been working many hours.
His bushy eyebrows were arched together and beads of sweat dotted his brow.
“Who let her in here?” Blackman snapped at the nervous orderly.
“She insisted,” the man replied.
“Get out, Elizabeth,” Blackman ordered as he pointed to the door. “I’ll not have a female fainting when I cut off this man’s arm.”
“No!” She reached out and grabbed the surgeon’s arm.
“You will not take my arm off, sir!” Jonathan managed, despite a dry mouth. Damn, he needed water. And he needed to get out of this hospital, and fast. He attempted to sit up.
The doctor shoved Jonathan back down. “If I don’t take your arm off, you’ll die.”
A commotion sounded in the other room just before the door swung open.
Adam Trent marched through the door, his dark hair in disarray, his gray eyes sparkling with anger.
His expression dared anyone to stop him.
“I’ve just arrived to find my sister and my friend shouting!
What’s the meaning of this outrage, Blackman?
You told me you’d take care of the man.”
Blackman looked over his wire-rimmed glasses at Adam. “I just found out this man was your friend, sir. Taking care of him is what I’m trying to do. As a matter of fact, I was getting ready to operate before your sister burst in here.”
“It’s about bloody time, ol’ boy,” Jonathan said as he twisted his head to see Adam. Jonathan managed a small smile. “Please inform this gentleman, and I use that term loosely, that I’d prefer to keep my arm.”
The surgeon grimaced with disgust before he picked up the end of his apron and wiped his face. “If I don’t amputate, you’ll die of gangrene. Even if I do save it, you’ll never have the use of that arm again.”
Elizabeth stood out of the way in the shadowy corner. Surely, she thought, the man couldn’t be correct. Jonathan would be fine—he had to be. She glanced at her brother. Certainly, Adam wouldn’t let this atrocity happen.
Adam stared at Jonathan. “If you hadn’t tried that fool stunt and ended up on the battlefield, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“I took a wrong turn.”
“You never did have a sense of direction.” Adam shook his head. “Jonathan, it’s your decision. What do you want to do?”
“There is no debating the issue. I’ll keep my arm!”
The doctor grumbled about the odds, but Jonathan stopped him.
“I will take my chances,” he said with quiet emphasis, signaling the end of any further discussion.
“You heard him. Clean up his arm and stitch it the best you can,” Adam instructed. He motioned to his sister. “Elizabeth and I will wait outside.”
“Where is she?” Jonathan asked, twisting his head to find her.
Elizabeth eased back over to the bed. “Here I am.”
Jonathan looked up at the vision of loveliness standing before him.
Her long, black hair hung loosely around her shoulders, reaching almost to her waist. It glistened under the light like the sun shining down on a raven’s wing.
How he longed to run his fingers through the silky strands.
Even that small effort proved too much at the moment.
He couldn’t lift his arm, much less hold her.
Gazing into slate-gray eyes so much like her twin brother’s, he saw the tears that threatened to spill over Elizabeth’s thick lashes and slide down her cheeks.
“I’ll be all right, my love.” He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the top of her knuckles. It was all he had the strength to do.
“It will take much more than a bullet to stop this scoundrel,” Adam stated as he placed an arm around his sister’s shoulders and gently squeezed. “Come. Let the man do his work, and then we can take Jonathan home.”
The surgeon, who had been working the whole time they were talking, finished tying the last bandage in place.
He looked at Jonathan, his grim expression making his words chillingly clear.
“As far as I’m concerned, you can take him home now.
I can do nothing further for him.” Blackman looked at Jonathan for a long moment.
Finally, Dr. Blackman shook his head while he wiped his blood-stained hands, then placed the grimy towel on a white stand beside the bed and tossed his instruments into his bag. “That arm will be useless to you.” He turned away. “If you live at all,” he muttered.
Jonathan’s clear blue eyes darkened like angry thunderclouds. “Then I’ll die in one piece.”
“It’s your choice.” Blackman shrugged and hurried on to his next patient.
“He’s one friendly soul,” Jonathan remarked as he glanced up at Adam, noting his friend’s bandaged shoulder for the first time. “What happened to you?”
Adam chuckled. “It seems a friend of mine thought he was invincible and could race across a battlefield with bullets flying all around him without being harmed.”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Bloody stupid is what it was. And once you went down, I had no choice but to cut a zigzag across the field to rescue you.”
“And I do appreciate it, ol’ boy. Evidently the Scottish haven’t lost their aim.”
“Evidently.” Adam frowned. With his good arm and Elizabeth on the other side, they managed to get Jonathan to his feet. “Let’s get you home.”
Carefully, they moved down the front steps of the old brick hospital. Adam nodded and his coach pulled up to meet them. The footman jumped down and opened the carriage door.
Soon they were safely settled in the carriage. Jonathan stretched out on the lush velvet seats, his head resting in Elizabeth’s lap. Adam eased into the seat across from them so he wouldn’t jar Jonathan.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t ask sooner, but with Jonathan and all,” Elizabeth rambled and finally got to her question. “How is Jewel? Did you rescue her? Is she all right?”
“You have been around Jewel too long,” Adam teased. “She has a bad habit of asking several questions at a time.”
“Don’t criticize. Just answer me,” Elizabeth’s voice rose slightly with irritation. “Did you rescue Jewel?”
“Rescue Jewel?” Jonathan managed to ask, his voice slurred by pain. “From what?”
“Answer me!” Elizabeth shrieked as fear and anger knotted inside her. “Tell me she’s not dead!” She reached over and grabbed Adam’s knee.
“Jewel’s dead? Can’t be,” Jonathan mumbled. He attempted to sit up, but finally gave up the effort. “I’m so sorry, Adam. I loved her, too.”
Adam chuckled.
Elizabeth noticed the twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her and then Jonathan.
“Perhaps if the two of you would be quiet, I could answer your questions.” Adam paused. “Jewel is not dead. You asked if I rescued her,” he said to Elizabeth before addressing Jonathan. “And I seem to recall how you kept an eye on my wife for me.”
Elizabeth glared at her brother. “You know bloody well what I meant, Adam! Don’t frighten me like that. Is she safe?”
“Is Jewel safe?” Jonathan asked, too.
“You’re both beginning to sound like parrots,” Adam said, then folded his arms across his chest as he tried to relax. “Perhaps I should start at the beginning.”
“Please be so kind,” Jonathan quipped from his reclined position. “It might be refreshing instead of frightening the wits out of us.”
“Adam!” Elizabeth insisted, her tone warning.
“Jewel is as well as can be expected,” Adam said patiently.
There was a cold edge of irony in his voice.
“After the fighting ended, I made sure you got to the hospital.” He smiled at Jonathan.
“I probably should have waited to make sure they didn’t place you in the corner, which they apparently did.
Anyway, I hurried home to see my wife. When I arrived at Four Oaks, all I found was a note telling me goodbye.
” Adam rubbed the back of his neck and Elizabeth could tell how upset he was.
“I thought I’d lost her forever,” he said.
“And?” Elizabeth prodded.
“It seemed our friend, Captain Lee,” Adam snarled as he continued, “had kidnapped Elizabeth.”