Chapter 2
By the time he reached his surgery, signs of shock were his first priority.
He lay the child on the table covered with a soft pallet that he used for examinations, wrapped her in a blanket, and spoke soothingly to keep her awake.
He needed to take another look at her injuries but feared causing pain or distress until the shock subsided.
“I hurt. I need Mama.” Her eyes drifted around the room.
“I know. Miss Somer is sending for her.”
The little eyes drifted shut. “She will come then. Everyone does what Miss Sybilla wants.”
His housekeeper, Mrs. Duncan, who hovered closely, chuckled. “That they do. Folk admire Miss Somer. Since the Viscount died, she’s the one what cares for folks, no matter her own problems. Shall I make the child tea?”
“No. She’s had a shock and needs to rest.” Since the viscount died… How long has it been? What are these problems? And why is she still unmarried? He had taken much for granted while he avoided facing Sibby.
The girl jerked as if remembering, and her eyes flew open. “The black man. Will he come back?”
“The Black Man?” Seth asked.
“The one with no face. What if he finds Miss Sybilla?”
Seth’s heart froze in his chest, an event contrary to any medical knowledge he’d gained either at university or in the heat of battle. Sibby could be in danger.
“He will, won’t he.” Becky’s faint cry brought him back to the problem at hand.
“No. And don’t worry about Miss Sybilla. She can handle herself.” She can, Caulfield. Get a grip on yourself.
“Shall I fetch you that tea, Mr. Caulfield? You appear as if you could use it.”
Seth nodded to his housekeeper. “Tell me about the Christmas pageant,” he said to distract the child.
“We made a stable, but it has no roof. Miss Sybilla says so we can see the altar behind it. Nan Potter is going to be Mary. Miss Sybilla says I’m too young this year but, in a few years, I’ll have a turn. Miss Sybilla says the angel is very, very important.”
So it went, he knew not how long, Sibby at the heart of it all.
Miss Sybilla thought Becky’s palm tree was as nice as John Martin’s even though it was small; Becky’s speech was lovely; and the wings Becky’s papa made were perfect.
Sibby apparently also believed that Paul Jones could keep the real donkey from causing trouble, that a real baby was not a good idea, and that even the blacksmith’s boy could be a shepherd on Christmas.
If Seth had had any doubt about whether or not Sibby Somer was the heart and soul of the shire, it would have faded in the onslaught of adoration pouring out of Becky Holden. He had no such doubt.
After a while the little girl’s color improved and her hands felt warmer. “When is my mama coming?”
“As soon as Miss Somer can get word to her, she’ll come running. How does your leg feel now.”
Becky’s lip quivered. “It hurts.”
Seth couldn’t wait for the parents. He stepped into the hall and called for Mrs. Duncan. “I need to take a closer look at Becky’s injuries. Will you please sit with her while I do?”
No sooner had he said it than there was a knock at his door, and Sybilla arrived on a breath of cold air and purposeful energy. “How is Becky? An ostler from the tavern has gone after her parents.” Her gaze skittered about as if searching for the girl, avoiding his face.
“Come into the surgery. Her shock is abating, but I need a woman’s presence when I examine her.” He turned back into the room.
* * *
Curt though it was, Sybilla took his words as an invitation. She approached the little girl and took her hand, stunned to receive a wan smile instead of Becky’s normal torrent of words.
Seth spoke not a word while he gently probed the girl’s belly. When she assured him that it didn’t hurt, he muttered. “No sign of internal injury,” as if to himself.
He lifted the girl’s white “angel” gown and began to feel down one leg, competently examining a badly swollen knee.
“Why didn’t you examine her injuries sooner?”
He still didn’t look up. “It was more vital to treat her shock and cold. Both shock and hypothermia can kill.”
“How did you learn all this?” She asked.
He barked a laugh, without pausing his work. “I learned many things in university in Edinburgh, but I learned boatloads more about injuries shipboard.”
The reminder of her discovery, two years after he left Astburn, that he had found a place in the Royal Navy, stabbed her. But university? She’d had no idea.
Becky winced when he reached her ankle. So did Sybilla at the sight of the purple swelling. He had hardly touched it
He came around across from Sybilla and smiled down on the little one. “I’m afraid this next part will hurt, but I will have to examine it closely. You must keep your gaze on Miss Somers while I do. Perhaps you can practice your pageant speech.”
Without a word or glance at Sybilla, he returned to the foot of the table, all professional.
Becky whimpered but bravely began, “B-b-behold I bring…” She groaned and swallowed, never taking her gaze from Sybilla. “tid-tide… What comes next Miss—Ow!”
“That’s my brave girl,” Sybilla soothed. “Tidings comes next. What kind?”
“Great,” Becky said, gritting her teeth. “Joy.”
“Very good, my love. How will you know when it is your turn?”
“Jacky will tell the sheep to sit…and the curate will shine the lantern on me.”
Suddenly her pallor deepened, and she moaned. Sybilla glanced at the end of the table. Seth had her heel in his hand and probed the ankle with his long gentle fingers. He set it down as carefully as a precious jewel and covered it again.
“You are a brave angel indeed, Miss Becky. Rest for a moment.” He gestured to Sybilla to follow him to the far side of the room.
“How can you stand to do that? It was horrific for her.”
He sighed, but showed no other emotion. “No help for it. I’m afraid I was wrong. Her ankle is broken. There isn’t much I can do except immobilize it and keep her off it.”
“You’re certain?”
“Until someone invents a way to look inside at bones, I can only rely on touch. Certain? No, but I believe so. I must do my best to give the ankle a chance to heal properly.”
Sybilla studied his face, even as his eyes darted to a place over her shoulder. His confidence and skill were impressive. Whatever he’d been doing these past years, his work would be a blessing to Astburn. “How?” she asked.
“I’m afraid immobilizing the ankle will cause more pain than before.”
“You will wrap it tightly?”
“That does more harm than good, but I’ll wrap the knee and use ice to bring down swelling. I’ll let her rest tonight. Tomorrow I’d like to try platre coulé.”
“What on earth is that?”
His confident smile reassured her. “It is a technique for encasing the injured part in plaster. I witnessed it a time or two in Germany,” Peering at her expression he added, “I was permitted to try it myself. If we keep it to the ankle and lower leg, she’ll have more movement while she heals.”
Sybilla bit her lower lip and nodded. She didn’t doubt him.
“I’m going to have to dose her with laudanum, both to keep her quiet tonight and tomorrow during the procedure.”
Sybilla scowled. “Vile stuff.”
“It has its place,” he said offhandedly, distracted by a disturbance in the hall. The parents had arrived.
Sybilla soothed the mother before they allowed her into the surgery, while Seth stressed the importance of calm. Mr. Holden, tight jawed, viewed Seth skeptically. “My daughter is not one of your seamen.”
It took a while for Seth to explain Becky’s situation, and his plan to treat the girl’s injuries. Sybilla kept a tight hold on Mrs. Holden’s hand while she added simplification where needed and supported his plan.
The mother bravely held back tears at her daughter’s bedside, and the father stood tall with his arm on his wife’s shoulder. When Becky told them about the “faceless man,” however, her father jerked upright and stared at Sybilla as if to question her.
Sybilla took Mr. Holden aside, whispered a brief overview of the murder, and suggested he keep details from his wife and take her home where four more little ones needed her, but he started for the door announcing he would “go after the monster what done this.”
Seth managed to stall him before he popped back into the surgery to explain he planned to go with Holden to trace the trail back to the trees. “There is nothing I can do until morning, anyway.” He didn’t wait for Sibby’s reply. She had words with Mrs. Holden instead.
The men were a few steps outside the door when Sybilla joined them, slamming the door behind her. “Did you really think you could leave without me? Becky’s mother and Mrs. Duncan will sit with Becky until we get back.
Seth’s stern expression was that of a man about to object, but she brushed past. “Let’s get on with it.”
Holden shook his head. “No one tells Miss Somer what she can’t do,” he muttered.