He was wearing a shirt that looked as though it had been thrown on haphazardly, the top half of his chest clearly visible. It took a moment for her to realize that he was speaking and threw something in her direction. She caught the robe at the last moment. “Put that on and follow me. I could use your assistance so long as you do not have a weak constitution.”
She wanted to scoff at the idea she couldn’t handle anything and shoved her arms in the sleeves of the banyan. “Lead the way, Mr. Steele.”
He said nothing but turned and led the way down the hall. She had to take two steps to his every one, lengthy stride, but it was obvious that time was not on their side for whatever reason. They headed down to the first floor and when they entered the dining room with its large table, Aislynn quickly discovered the reason for his haste.
A man was being held down on the table by two other men, his struggles making it difficult for them to keep him steady. The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air and as she drew closer, she saw the massive red stain to the right of his chest.
“What happened?”
“He was shot.” The reply was clipped, impatient, so Aislynn decided to let Mr. Steele take the reins on this situation. He seemed to know what he was doing as he set the lamp down and glanced up as another man came rushing in from the servant’s entrance of the dining room.
“Did you get what I asked for?” he demanded curtly.
Several white linens were tossed down, as well as various other supplies, as the new arrival said somewhat breathlessly, “The water is on to boil as we speak.”
Nothing further was said as Mr. Steele grabbed the knife and prepared to remove the soiled outer clothes from around the man’s wound. Once his chest was completely stripped bare, the jagged, bloody hole where he’d been shot was clearly visible.
Aislynn put a hand to her mouth with a soft gasp. “Oh, my God.”
“If you cannot handle the sight before you, Miss Sims, then I must instruct you to leave and we will continue a bit shorthanded.”
She shook her head, drawing herself back to the importance of this moment and the hope that they could save this man’s life. “I am well. Tell me what to do.”
He handed her a small brown bottle. “Get him to drink some of this. It will ease some of his discomfort.”
Aislynn nodded but she had already been dismissed as Mr. Steele returned his focus to inspecting the wound. She moved around the head of the table where the man was grimacing in pain and groaning a few obscenities. Thankfully, she was not sensitive to such things because her mother used to say much worse when she’d been a child.
“Hello, Mr.…”
She looked at the other men surrounding the patient but no one seemed to pay her any mind.
“Alfred.” The clipped reply came from Mr. Steele but it was enough for her.
“Alfred. You must listen to me now and do as I say.”
His blue eyes were glazed over with pain and the threat of death was hanging in the air. “Get that shit away from me!” he snarled, nearly upsetting the bottle in her grasp. She had a firm hold, so no damage was done.
“Alfred. You must take something for the pain to ease some of your discomfort?—”
“Fuck you.”
Aislynn took into account that he didn’t know her and perhaps it was a mixture of shock and delirium that was causing him to lash out at her as he was. However, that didn’t mean he had to be so nasty.
Setting her lips right next to his ear, she tried a different tactic. Instead of getting stern with him, she said the one thing that most men of her acquaintance responded to. “If you are a good boy and take this medicine like I asked you, then I might just reward you by sucking your cock. Now what do you have to say?”
The room abruptly grew silent as the other occupants turned to stare at her. However, the patient lifted his arm and snatched the bottle out of her grasp. “Give me the blasted thing.”
He downed a good swig of it before she retrieved it. “That should be enough. We do not need you to be more cross than you already are by consuming too much.”
She had witnessed the effects of laudanum addiction over the years. It wasn’t a pleasant sight to behold. Many of the common classes found themselves at the mercy of God’s own medicine. It could be a blessing and most assuredly a curse if abused.
As the patient began to settle down, she announced, “I will check on how the water is coming along.”
She left the dining room and headed into the kitchens where she saw a pail on the stove that was starting to steam. Deciding it was hot enough for Mr. Steele’s use, she gathered a warming pad from the counter and wrapped it around the handle where she carefully made her way back to the dining room.
When she arrived, Mr. Steele waved her over urgently. “I need to sterilize these instruments to reduce the risk of infection.”
Now that the patient had calmed, a brief incoherent mumble now and then, Mr. Steele must have felt confident in pouring some brandy onto the gaping hole in his chest. The man instantly roared in outrage and clenched his fists but he quickly settled once more.
