Nurse No Evil （First Person） #2
“You are obviously aware of what life is like in market towns, sir. We are expected to marry, but as you can clearly see, that particular plan has not worked out all that well for me.”
The general looked puzzled. “Why ever not?”
“Because I live in a small town. There were only about twenty families of the gentry, and I was expected to marry within my class. Unfortunately, of the twenty families, several had uncommonly pretty daughters, and several had better dowries. You need not pretend I am anything other than a plain, ordinary woman with a small dowry; my status should come as no surprise.”
He grunted in amusement or deprecation—it was hard to tell with him. He asked the oddest question.
“Would you object to a colonel or major?”
“For what?”
“As a husband, of course!”
To own the truth, the question had never occurred to me, and I found myself unable to answer.
Once moving, the general rolled over all opposition, giving me no chance to consider the question alone.
“You would not be wealthy, and I will not claim that the life of a military wife is ideal, but you could be reasonably comfortable. At that rank, the chances of your husband dying in battle are not so bad—especially if you get one headquartered on our soil. Most could afford a reasonable establishment, though not luxurious by any means.”
If that was his idea of wooing me, he was sadly mistaken, but the wedding band on his finger proved he did not speak of himself.
His wife might have a different opinion, but as I would probably never converse with her, I had to determine it myself.
Was the general merely a busybody, or did he have some purpose?
I considered while the general waited with surprising patience.
“It never occurred to me, but I would not disdain such a life. All I ever wanted is my own establishment with a respectable man. One of your colonels would likely serve as well as another, but I have never been in a situation to entertain such an idea.”
The general chuckled. “Remember the parable of the forest and the trees, madam.”
I had no idea what to say to that, so I simply gave a little shrug, and he moved to the next topic, apparently satisfied he had planted whatever idea he intended.
“To return to the topic, I ask a favour which you are in no way obliged to accept. Do not take this as a bargain requiring acceptance of the entire arrangement, but I would also offer you advice, and a small favour, should you so choose.”
The general was making less and less sense, so I decided I might as well let him finish. “You intrigue me, sir. Pray, continue!”
He reached up and scratched his whiskers like a dog scratching its ear, which was frankly disconcerting; most gentlemen would retreat to a corner to do such a thing, however natural it might be.
“First, let me offer advice. If you would like a husband, and you do not disdain the military, simply return here. We send dozens of them through every day, and you can just about have your pick of the lot.”
“Keep in mind, I have no fortune, or little anyway.”
The general waved his hand as if that were of no importance. “That is convenient. Any officer who needs a fortune from his wife is not worthy of your hand, so it is a reasonably good way to weed out the rakes. The matter of fortune may be alleviated by other concerns.”
It was shocking to speak of marriage with the general so pragmatically, but I had become accustomed in the previous year to labouring in uncomfortable situations; this was not particularly terrible. At least I was reasonably certain the general would survive the encounter.
“It seems a great deal of trouble to sort them.”
He laughed. “Let me do the sorting for you. If you return, that is your favour—I will find you a good man in the King’s army. You may take or leave him, but I will present you with a few choices. I know a good number of officers who would give much to have a wife like you.”
The very idea that someone would choose me over someone else—anyone else—was so foreign that I sat with my mouth agape while the general laughed openly. He laughed not at me, but at the situation. I trusted the man within reason, and thought I might take him up on his offer.
“I presume this means the favour is rather onerous?”
He became taciturn. “Yes and no.”
I could have asked for clarification, but I reasoned he would get to it eventually.
“Sometimes in battle, men are wounded in the head, the heart, or the soul, not in the body. Sometimes both, but the head and the heart are the more difficult ones to deal with.”
This was not news. I had seen men who screamed in panic in the middle of the night, men who thought I came to kill them rather than to offer succour, and men who cowered in their beds in fear, such that nothing could make them move.
A sergeant even left the hospital one day while I was at church and killed a few people whom he thought for certain were Frenchmen.
There were many names for it, such as shattered nerves, melancholy, low spirits, and the like; but mostly it was whispered.
It was not anything anybody wanted to have happen to them, or even talk about.
Some called it cowardice; others called it injuries of the mind, but most simply did not want to speak of it and would just as soon the soldier died and be done with it to remove the ambiguity.
I was among those who did not wish to speak of it, and I was much less sanguine about this so-called favour.
“What exactly are you asking?”
“Nothing too onerous, I hope. I mostly need discretion and patience. I have a man who was at the two worst battles we had in Spain in the last few years. He has been in battle much more than any man ought, but he could not be dissuaded from what he considered his duty. He recently, without warning, attacked a woman, or rather, compromised her, and then tried to end his own life.”
I gasped. I was not actually shocked per se, as we had also had soldiers try to kill themselves in the hospital more than once, and even a few who succeeded within weeks of returning home. It was nothing particularly new or shocking, but something best dealt with by someone other than me!
“And what do you expect of me? I have no useful knowledge in this area.”
I was ready to jump up, run out the door, and never look back, so the general made a few placating motions with his hands.
“I do not expect miracles. Tend his wounds, speak with him a little, and see if you can effect a change. I have seen you do it in the hospital. I did not pick you by lot. If anybody can help this man, you can. Stay with him for a few weeks, and I will consider the favour complete, whether he is whole or not.”
I did not look forward to the task in the least. It seemed a nearly impossible job, for which I was ill-suited.
On the one hand, taking care of a single patient would be much like a holiday.
On the other hand, having to take care of a single man would allow a level of intimacy about which I was not very sanguine; and if he succeeded in killing himself, or worse yet, harmed another, I would find it difficult to live with my failure.
On the third hand, the general’s offer, while not conditional on my looking after his friend, would be pursued with more diligence if I did this task for him.
My life could be determined by a month’s unpleasant work.
The general continued.
“You will not be expected to be alone with him, ever. You are under the protection of the man’s wealthy cousin, and you will have footmen and maids aplenty. All I ask is that you try to help him, for one month, and report anything to me you feel would be my business to know, nothing more.”