Hope - Lesley Pearse [206]
‘You will lie down and let me re-dress those wounds,’ she said sharply, snatching the new breeches and jacket from his hands. ‘Just stretching to put those clothes on is likely to open you up again. Or do you want an infection, then an amputation, so you can go hopping around with only one leg and one arm?’
‘Nowthere’s a cheerful thought,’ he responded teasingly. ‘You are even bossier than Nell.’
But he did obey her, and didn’t even wince as she removed the bandages and washed the wounds.
‘There’s no sign of an infection,’ she said after she’d examined him and begun to re-dress the wounds. ‘But that doesn’t mean you are able to walk or ride yet. I think you should be moved somewhere to convalesce though, you need a strong stomach to stay here.’
‘Don’t you dare suggest I go to Scutari,’ he said with some indignation. ‘I’d sooner lie here and look at you than face that hell-hole.’
Hope had been told that just the previous day a copy of The Times had been circulating which had reported on what a terrible place the hospital at Scutari was. As a result, most of the wounded were fearful about being sent there.
‘Ask Lord Cardigan if you can stay on his yacht then,’ she retorted. It was something of a miracle that Cardigan had survived the charge. Apart from a minor sabre slash he was unhurt. He had retreated to his yacht and ordered his company surgeon to treat him there. It was said he was drinking heavily, as well he might, for many here held him responsible for the carnage.
‘He doesn’t like “Indian Officers”, Pettigrew said cheerfully. ‘He probably hopes I’ve croaked.’
Hope smiled. It was hard not to be amused by Pettigrew; he was brave, outspoken, charming and like a naughty boy at times. Apparently Lord Cardigan had slighted many officers who had served in India, which was ridiculous, as they were the only officers who had recent battle experience.
‘We could put you in a tent out the back,’ she suggested. ‘I daresay if your servant couldn’t come down to wait on you, I could bring you the odd bowl of gruel to keep your strength up.’
He laughed heartily but then winced at the pain in his arm.
‘No laughing, no walking, no anything,’ she said with mock severity. ‘You’ve already used up all your luck, so if you’ve got any sense you’ll just lie low.’
‘Can you spare some time to come and talk to me today?’ he said. ‘There are so many questions I want to ask you.’
‘There’s plenty I want to ask you too,’ she said tartly. ‘But meanwhile I’ve got more important things to do.’
It was noon before Hope had finished changing dressings. Most of these wounded would be cleared out of the hospital shortly, but they would soon be replaced by others brought down from the Heights. The shelling was going on right now, though she hardly noticed it over the moans. She just hoped Robbie would stay safe up there. He’d been ordered there with his company the day after she and Queenie arrived. Queenie had gone with him, and she really missed her friend for there were so few women down here, and none that she felt as comfortable with as Queenie.
Hope was terrified that Bennett might be ordered on to the Heights. By rights he should be there with his regiment, but maybe his superiors realized that they had few doctors as experienced in surgery as him and felt he was more valuable here.
The army certainly didn’t value their rank and file. The men had no shelter, hardly any food, and when it rained the trenches were knee-deep in mud. Everyone was concerned about what would happen when winter set in.
Hope found time to go and see Captain Pettigrew that evening. The surgeon who had treated Lord Cardigan’s wound had moved him to a small house along the quay being used by officers from the 93rd Regiment.
She was ushered towards a room at the back of the house by the same servant she’d met at the cavalry camp in Varna. He was a wiry man of about thirty with very bad teeth and a completely bald head.
‘You done a good job with the Captain,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Didn’t think I was going to see him again!’
Hope smiled at