THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

“Ack, man! Why had ye not said somethin’?”
    Beth dashed away her tears. “Hurry. We need to get his clothes off.”
    Angus grunted and yanked off Duncan’s shirt. He had Duncan balanced on his side when Rachael raced into the room with a bowl of water, a small dressing, and a needle and thread.
    Beth grabbed the bowl from her hands. “I need more water—-hot, boiling water—and more dressings.” When Rachael frowned at her, Beth showed her Duncan’s shoulder.
    Rachael immediately blanched.
    “ Now , Rachael.” Beth waved the small pile of white linen at the woman. “I need more. ” The woman nodded and raced out the door.
    Beth bit into her bottom lip and tentatively prodded around her husband’s shoulder. When puss oozed through his gaping stitches her stomach recoiled. Voice shaking, she said, “Angus, you have no reason to trust me, but please , I beg you, just do as I ask.” Her tears started falling in earnest as she scrubbed her hands in the water bowl. “I need to clean the cut on his arm before it, too, becomes infected.”
    The damn fool doctor hadn’t bothered to wash his hands before slicing into Duncan. Beth seriously doubted he’d bothered to clean the blade he probably used to eat and clean his nails with. God only knew what added bacteria he’d introduced into Duncan’s system.
    While Angus rotated Duncan onto his back, Beth stared at the supplies Rachael had deposited on the side table. Her stomach quivered. She’d never stuck a needle into anyone in her life, but she had sewn enough Cornish hens closed to feed an army. Surely, she could handle the needle and thread with some competence. She certainly couldn’t do worse than those around her. She, at the very least, understood sterility.
    As she exposed the wound on Duncan’s arm, Rachael raced in with a pot of steaming water and Isaac followed with soap and enough sheeting to wrap a mummy.
    She tore the fabric into strips then plunged a hand full into the scalding water.
    “ Nay, madame! ” Rachael squealed.
    It took everything Beth had not to scream herself. Her hands scarlet, she wrung out the fabric and started cleaning Duncan’s wounded arm.
    Once satisfied the cut was as clean as possible given the circumstances, Beth picked up the needle and silk thread. Angus immediately stayed her hand and muttered something to Isaac. Beth waited. Isaac apparently took her side because Angus released her arm.
    “Please, God,” Beth whispered, as she pierced Duncan’s skin, “keep my hands and my stomach steady.”
    Thankful her husband didn’t flinch and grateful she’d not passed out nor tossed her breakfast with the first thrust, Beth gathered her wits and continued, placing ten consecutive stitches deep and tight in Duncan’s forearm under everyone’s watchful gaze.
    She looked up to find Rachael at her elbow holding a crock of suave reeking of medicinal herbs and grease. She shook her head but Rachael kept saying, “ Oui, madame , ‘tis best.”
    Reluctantly, Beth picked up another piece of fabric and plunged her hands back into the water. Confident she’d killed most of the germs and all of the skin on her hands, she wrapped the swatch of fabric around her finger, scooped out some poultice and applied it sparingly to Duncan’s arm.
    Once his arm was dressed, she straightened and wiped the sweat and tears from her eyes. She found Angus staring at her. She told him, “It’s time to clean his shoulder wound.”
    Wordlessly, Angus rolled Duncan onto his side as the others stared.
    Knowing she needed to open the wound to drain the puss, she held out her hand. “Your blade...dirk.”
    He stared at her through narrowed eyes and murmured something to Isaac. Isaac murmured something back, and Angus reluctantly handed her the blade, hilt first. She dropped the blade into the deep pot of water. After a moment she bit her lip and retrieved it, this time suffering pain clear to her elbow.
    She looked Angus in the eye and nodded. When the burly man tightened his grip on Duncan, she took a deep breath and sliced through the few knots holding Duncan’s shoulder together. A cupful of purulent fluid flowed like hot honey down Duncan’s back. Bile raced to her mouth. Even Angus gagged with the stench.
    Forced to mouth breath, she murmured, “Rachael, more hot water.”
    Rachael, still bug-eyed, whispered, “ Oui, madame ,” and flew from the room.
    Beth poked and prodded to extract the puss hidden in pockets beneath