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gave Laura the courage to continue.
    “I certainly do not. She isn’t fit to watch kittens.” Laura gestured around her. “Does Stonehouse have a laundry? Put her there. Her man is dead at Basque Roads and she has children to feed. I will not have that on my conscience. I think you do not want that, either.”
    She had him there, and she knew it, as sure as she knew there was no reason for anyone in B Ward to offer any hope. As she looked the surgeon in the eye, and he returned her gaze just as emphatically, she thought of what Sir David Carew would do, or even what her ownfather would have done, had he been there to pass judgment on frailty.
    He was silent a long time. “I’m inclined to agree with you, Lady Taunton,” he said, then looked at the woman. “Maude, you should be horsewhipped and never employed at this hospital again.”
    The woman said nothing, only hung her head lower.
    Lt. Brittle turned to Davey Dabney, pale and watchful. “It’s your choice, Davey. No one in this room will fault you if you want her sacked.”
    Maude began to cry, lowering herself even closer to the floor as her tears fell on wood slimy with the seaman’s blood. I can’t watch this, Laura thought, even as she stood there, her hands tightly clasped together. This is worse than anything I endured today.
    “Send her to the laundry,” Davey said, his voice rough and barely audible above the woman’s sobs. “And my sheets better come back smooth like a baby’s bum or you’ll be out on yours.”
    Lt. Brittle smiled. “That’s fair enough.” He took hold of Maude’s arm and hauled her to her feet. “Go home. Think about this and report to the laundry tomorrow at six bells. I’ll clear it for you there. Go on.”
    Maude left without a word. Laura looked around the ward. She couldn’t see any anger on any of the faces of people who had a right to be angry. She didn’t think it was resignation, either. Maybe we all learned something, she thought, me as much as anyone. She looked at Lt. Brittle, who seemed to be gazing into that same middle distance as the men in his care, and realized how close to the bone this scene had played out. She turned to the orderlies.
    “Would one of you please fetch my valise? It’s in room 12 of the administration building. And you, would you please mop this floor? Lt. Brittle, where might I find fresh linen for Davey?” She looked at her own bloody clothes. “I know I am getting stiff and imagine you are, too, Davey.”
    “Aye, miss,” he said. “We look a pair, don’t we?”
    It was a cheeky thing to say, something no one of his stamp would, on an ordinary day, ever say to a lady, except this was no ordinary day.
    “Aye, we’re a pair,” she agreed. “Lt. Brittle, I will stay here, now that there is no one to watch this crew of miscreants, rascals and layabouts.”
    The men laughed, as she had hoped they would. “You’re a game’un,” someone called.
    “Mind your manners, lads,” Lt. Brittle said quickly, but there was no sting in his rebuke. “Lady Taunton, that’s too much to ask, but I’ll not deny we need you now.” He touched the strip of adhesive that had been draped around his neck as he ran upstairs, carrying Matthew. “There’s a man one floor down who is probably wondering when I am going to close up his arm. He can wait a moment more. I’ll show you what you need, Lady Taunton. Come along.”
    In the hall, he startled her by grasping her shoulder in an enormous hug, and then releasing her almost before she knew what had happened. It heartened her more than anything she could remember.
    He opened a door and handed her sheets, towels and a nightshirt. “I’ll hold Davey while you strip the bed and remake it, then we’ll get him into this.” He pulled out an apron. “Put this on first.”
    “I’m afraid to touch him, for fear he will bleed again,” she told him, as she tied the apron strings around her twice.
    “But you’re not afraid to wash