Read Online William Monk 08 - The Silent Cry by Anne Perry - Free Book Online Page B

deal Hester could do for her patient beyond making sure he was as comfortable as possible, that his bedroom was clean and that the bandages on his more minor wounds were changed as often as was consistent with healing. Eating was difficult for him and seemed to cause him immediate distress. Obviously his internal injuries affected his ability to accept and digest food. It was distressing, and yet she knew that if he did not take nourishment he would waste away, his organs would cease to function and he would damage them irreparably. Fluid was vital.
    She brought him milk and arrowroot again, beef tea, and a little dry, very thin toast, then half an hour later, more egg custard. It was not without pain that he ate, but he did retain what she gave him.
    Dr. Wade came in the late morning. He looked anxious, his face pinched, his eyes shadowed. He himself was limping and in some pain from a fall from his horse over the previous weekend. He came upstairs almost immediately, meeting Hester on the landing.
    “How is he, Miss Latterly? I fear it is a wretched job I’ve given you. I’m truly sorry.”
    “Please don’t apologize, Dr. Wade,” she responded sincerely. “I don’t wish to have only the easy cases.…”
    His face softened. “I’m very grateful for that. I had heard well of you, it seems with good reason. Nevertheless, it must be disturbing when there is so little you can do, anyone can do, to help.” He frowned and his voice dropped. He stared at thefloor. “I’ve known the family for years, Miss Latterly, ever since I came out of the navy—”
    “The navy?” She was caught by surprise. It was something she had not even imagined. “I’m sorry … I have no right to …”
    He smiled suddenly, illuminating his features and changing his appearance entirely. “I was a naval surgeon twenty years ago. Some of the men I tended had served with Nelson.” His eyes met hers, bright with memory, seeing in his mind another age, another world. “One old sailor, whose leg I amputated after a cannon had broken loose and pinned him to the bulkhead, had served in the victory at Trafalgar.” His voice was thick with concentration. “I don’t suppose there is another woman I know to whom I could say that and she would have some idea of what it means. But you have seen battle, you have watched the courage amid horror, the heart and the strength, the endurance through pain and in the face of death. I think we share something that the people around us can never know. I am extremely grateful that you are nursing poor Rhys and will be here to support Sylvestra through what can only be a dreadful ordeal for her.”
    He did not say so in words, but she saw in his eyes that he was preparing her for the fact that Rhys might not recover. She steeled herself.
    “I shall do everything I can,” she promised, meeting his gaze steadily.
    “I’m sure you will.” He nodded. “I have no doubt of it whatever. Now … I will see him. Alone. I am sure you understand. He is a proud man … young … sensitive. I have wounds to tend, dressings which must be changed.”
    “Of course. If I can be of assistance, just ring the bell.”
    “Thank you, thank you, Miss Latterly.”
    In the afternoon Hester left Rhys to rest and spent a little time with Sylvestra in the withdrawing room. It was crowded with furniture, as was the rest of the house, but warm and surprisingly comfortable—to the body, if not to the eye.
    The house was very quiet. Tragedy seemed to have settled over it with peculiar loneliness. She could hear only the flamesin the fireplace and the driving of rain against the windows. There were no sounds of servants’ feet across the hallway, or whispers or laughter as there were in most houses.
    Sylvestra asked after Rhys, but it was merely to make conversation. She had been in to see him twice during the day; the second time she had stayed for a painful half hour, trying to think of something to say to him,