“Maybe the battle will not arrive before the medical staff is prepared.”
“We could be organized, all medical tools by our sides, the tables waiting, but it still won’t be enough. It never has been.”
Her heart ached for Orlando. She wished she could ease his concerns, but there was nothing she could do but be there for him.
At the knock at the door, she answered it to find Mr. Desmit, a tray laden with food. “Thank you,” Blythe said as she took the tray.
Mr. Desmit glanced past her to Orlando. “You take care. Rest. You will be needed soon.”
Orlando nodded. “I will.”
After Blythe shut the door, she carried the tray to the bed and sat it in the center then settled on the side where she slept.
They ate in silence because she did not know what she could say to ease him. As for Orlando, he ate so slowly, almost as if he was too exhausted to lift the fork to his mouth.
When he was done, he lay back against the pillows again and she took the tray back downstairs.
“How is your husband?” Mrs. Desmit asked.
“Tired, exhausted. I expect him to be asleep before I return.”
Except, he wasn’t, much to her surprise.
“Are you feeling better?”
“I am certain sleep is all I need.”
“Then that is what you shall do.”
“I fear that if I sleep so early, that I will wake too early and not get a chance to rest before the ball.”
That was to be tomorrow night.
“We could play a game of Cribbage,” Blythe offered.
“You will only beat me, like you always do.” He chuckled.
“I simply have better luck.”
Blythe crawled onto her side of the bed and lay on her side, the pillow beneath her ear. “Why did you not return to England after Napoleon first went to Elba?”
“There were still wounded that needed care, then there were illnesses. Besides, even without battles, with so many people there was still illness and injuries and being a military surgeon is not so difficult when there are no battles.”
“Will you remain when this next campaign is over?”
“No. I will stay to treat the wounded and ill until most have recovered, but I think it is time to go home.”
Her heart squeezed in reaction given the ache.
“I suppose I will eventually need to go back as well.” She couldn’t stay in this inn forever; she just wished that she could.
Screams, blood, bodies, limbs. The acrid smell of fires and gunpower. It surrounded him.
Orlando jerked awake and sat up.
“Another nightmare?” Blythe asked.
He nodded.
