Chapter 10
Edwina returned to James’s chamber a few hours later, and when she pressed her ear against the door, she could hear him snoring peacefully. She turned the key in the lock and entered, carrying a wooden box by the handle on top.
It had been furnished by the healers of McDougal Keep so that she might minister to James more effectively.
They had given her ugly looks as they’d presented it to her, though, clearly resenting the fact that James had been entrusted to her care when the healers had already done all they could for him.
For her part, Edwina had thoroughly ignored their distasteful countenances, for she had not come to the keep to make new friends or assuage the bruised egos of the healers who had previously failed to help James.
She had a singular purpose, and she meant to carry it out no matter whose nose was set out of joint by her efforts.
The box had the basic requirements of any healer. She had made a point of checking its contents top to bottom when taking possession of it (another gesture that had incurred anger from the healers).
She briefly found herself wishing she had taken even more of the herbs for the concoction with her on this journey so that she would not risk running out before his recovery had run its course.
Upon further consideration, though, she dismissed the idea.
In some ways, it was good to know there was a limit to what she had on hand.
It would allow her to ration it more responsibly, to move his healing process forward at a brisk rate rather than letting him lag and languish unnecessarily.
He remained insensate as she entered, and she was glad of that. The more chance his body had to fully rest and recover, the better the odds that he could summon the strength to fight against the pain when he’d need it the most.
Edwina bent and rolled up the leg of his trousers, examining the maimed flesh beneath.
Yes, it was a terrible mess, that was certain.
The knife wound itself might have been relatively simple to recover from if it had gone in and out cleanly, but the fracturing of the blade had made a far more hideous problem of it than it had needed to be.
She’d questioned the healers closely about whether, when digging around in James’s leg, they had truly succeeded in removing all the shards of metal.
They all assured her, wide-eyed and earnest, that they had, without doubt or question.
Likewise, they maintained that they had treated the infection fully until it had dissipated.
Looking at the wound now, though, it was clear that the infection had returned with a vengeance, which indicated to her that some small part of the blade had remained within to fester.
Not to excuse his dependence on the juice of the poppy, she thought, but given what horrors are transpiring within the recesses of his muscles, I suppose it’s no wonder he succumbed to it the way he did.
In truth, those “healers” might have been better off removing the leg entirely than leaving it in such a shameful condition. He’d be rid of the pain, at any rate.
Still, too late to make such a suggestion now.
She had no doubt the patient would refuse it strenuously, and she did not have the stomach to insist upon such a thing without the man’s consent.
The shock and horror of such a thing might actually drive him mad, to the point where the relief of pain that followed would not be enough to bring him back from insanity.
He’d have no real hope of ever returning to any semblance of the life he’d once had, and that could truly break him beyond repair.
Very well, she decided. It’s to be the hard way, then.
She applied a poultice to the wound, and as she did, he stirred and awoke. When he saw her, he reacted with amazement. “How on earth did you manage to enter without me noticing?”
“Your slumber was sound indeed, and that’s a mercy,” she replied. “How are you feeling?”
He frowned slightly as though considering the question. “I still feel sick. I doubt I could take any food. My pain is bad indeed, though your current action seems to be relieving it slightly.”
“I wish I could tell you this poultice is anything but a thoroughly temporary measure,” she said, finishing it and surveying her handiwork. “No doubt your previous healers did something similar during your initial recovery.”
“Aye, they told me it was what took away the inflammation within my flesh.”
Edwina shook her head ruefully. “I wish that it were so. Alas, they failed to notice that the inflammation had returned, no doubt worse than before. Seeing these results, if I had not met them myself, I would think those ladies’ eyes were painted on if they managed to miss this.”
James glanced away sheepishly. “It…might be that I had forbidden them from inspecting me further in recent months.”
She raised an eyebrow dolefully. “Am I to assume, perhaps, that when they gave it their best efforts, you flew into some sort of frenzy and drove them away?”
“Something like that, yes,” he muttered.
“Mmm, I should have suspected as much. Well, once we have finished with the infection, then we will concern ourselves with removing the bit of blade that remains within you.”
James’s expression darkened. “Did they not tell you? All of it was removed successfully.”
“That is what they told me, but it is clearly untrue based on my own rudimentary observations. This type of inflammation would not recur of its own accord. It comes from your body working furiously against an object which is foreign to it. One that still bears enough rust and grime, no doubt, to continue to plague you. Frankly speaking, it’s no wonder that you prolonged your use of the opiate to dangerous extremes. ”
“But you cannot possibly plan to open my leg again?!” he asked, horrified.
“I must. The tainted metal cannot be allowed to remain within.”
“The initial endeavor cut through too much of my muscle! If you do so again and root around for some tiny fragment of metal—one they could not find, one you almost certainly will not find either—then you will make the matter worse by far!”
“I assure you,” she said coolly, “I would not propose such a thing if I did not believe I had a better chance of finding and removing the offending bit of blade than your other healers. Nor would I suggest it if I thought for a moment that it would worsen your already-horrendous condition. There are certain risks, yes. I cannot pretend otherwise. Even so, to leave things as they are will doom you to a lifetime of misery, not to mention an infection persistent enough to claim your entire leg and eventually take your life.”
“Have you brought more of the medicine with you?” he asked. He was doing his best to sound normal, but she could hear the tinge of desperation around the corners of his voice.
“I wish I could say yes, but we must wait a few hours more until you are able to have another helping.”
“By then, though, the pain will have returned in full force! I will not be able to bear it!” he protested.
Edwina gave him a patient look. “You will bear it, I assure you. Part of all this is learning to live with the pain to some degree. To find ways to subjugate it other than poisoning yourself with laudanum or becoming addicted to other substances in its absence. These are mental disciplines we must work on together, James, and they will not be easy to develop. Without them, however, any solution will be all too temporary, and you will surely slide back into your former helplessness and misery the moment you have the chance.”
There was a knock at the door, and it opened slowly, revealing a servant girl with a tray. There was another bowl resting on it.
“Are you ready for me now, Lady Edwina?” the girl asked.
“Yes, please bring it in,” Edwina replied.
“I told you mere moments ago that I have no stomach for food!” James reminded her testily.
“Ah, it sounds like your temper is returning again! How lovely that will be for all of us.” Edwina rolled her eyes.
“You will take food because you must. It is only broth of the same sort you sent away when my sister first brought it. This time, however, you are not dealing with her but with me, and so you will finish every drop, so help me.”
“What? Do you intend to hold me down and force it down my throat?” he scoffed.
“If I must,” she retorted. “And I believe I could accomplish it given your overall diminished condition. You may test me if you wish, but I believe the results would prove embarrassing for both of us. Though, perhaps, a trifle more embarrassing for you than for me.”
“What sort of decent and honorable noblewoman is it who threatens to climb into a man’s bed with him and wrestle him into submission?! Why, it is positively unseemly!”
“The sort of noblewoman,” she said through clenched teeth, “who has been driven to it by an impossible man and his ego. Besides, you have left very little of the bed left for me to ‘climb into,’ it seems to me. And none who have seen your unhealthy and weakened condition in recent months would ever suspect you of being capable of doing anything untoward with me, so we needn’t fear any sort of gossip or scandal.
Now, for the last time: Take the broth, and give me no further trouble over it! ”
The servant girl continued to stand nearby with the tray, shifting her weight nervously from one foot to the next.
James eyed the bowl doubtfully. “But what if I am unable to keep it down?”
Edwina shrugged. “There is a basin in the corner that will catch the contents of your stomach if you need to release them. However, as I understand it, you have taken very little nourishment over these past months. This is to be expected when in the grip of a dependency such as the one you’ve cultivated.
The processes of your body have atrophied, and we must teach them to function once more, even if the results are less than ideal at the start. ”