door again.
She found the Worthys in the sitting room, looking out the window at the bay, the captain standing behind Nana, his arms around his whole family. He appeared to be resting his chin on Nana’s head.
I still shouldn’t be here, Laura thought, embarrassed. She turned to go, but the captain looked around and smiled to see her. He let go of Nana and walked toward her. She thought he might bow, but he didn’t bother. Taking her by both arms, he kissed her forehead.
“Life’s too short to stand on much formality, sister,” he said. “Start by calling me Oliver.”
What could she do but agree? “I am Laura Taunton,” she replied, “and most heartily pleased to meet you.”
He was handsome in a seagoing way, with a myriad of wrinkles around his eyes that were probably caused by years of facing into wind and water. His lips were thin as a Scotsman’s and his nose full of character. Still, none of his features registered as much as his brown eyes, so warm and kind, probably only because he was in the presence of the person he held most dear in the world. On the quarterdeck, she did not doubt he was absolute monarch. At home, her sister ruled, even though she probably did not know it.
Laura took all this in, understanding her brother-in-law completely before she had said more than a sentence to him. How strange life was. In two days she had gone from having no family in the world, to the possession of a sister and a brother. Maybe there really was a God in Heaven.
Nana stood by Oliver now, making him sit down on the sofa, then putting a pillow behind his head.
“My love, would you humor me and let Philemon Brittle look at your ear?” Nana asked.
Laura knew her brother-in-law would refuse his wife nothing. In his world of war over which he had no control, any gesture of kindness to his wife must have felt like the greatest gift he could give. He nodded.
“I’ll get him,” Laura said.
She took the well-traveled path between the two houses. So his name is Philemon, and not merely Phil, she told herself. It has been a long time since I have read that particular book of the New Testament. I wonder if anyone reads it.
Lt. Brittle came to the door, his shirtsleeves rolled up. “Just helping me mum with the dishes,” he said. “Come in. Did I see a chaise pull up with Captain Worthy?”
“You did,” she said, walking with him to the kitchen, where Nora Brittle was up to her elbows in soapy water. “Good day, Mrs. Brittle. May I help?”
The surgeon handed his dish towel to her. “You finish. I’ll get my pocket instruments and some wadding.”
Laura took the plate Mrs. Brittle handed her, wondering when she had last dried a dish. In the last day, I have been hugged and cosseted, and cried over and touched, she thought, as her eyes prickled. People need me. If I am ever alone again, it will be my own fault and no one else’s.
“Are you feeling all right, Lady Taunton?” Mrs. Brittle asked quietly.
“Never better.”
After sitting Oliver Worthy in a straight chair, draping a towel around his neck and advising Nana to recline on the sofa out of view of the injury, Lt. Brittle took out a pair of long-nosed scissors from his packet of instruments, then handed the rest to Laura.
“I should ask—are you up for this?”
He seemed to expect no answer but yes, so she did not disappoint him. It wasn’t the place, not with Nana looking so anxious, but perhaps later she could tell him that she actually was curious.
Laura noticed that Nana was looking more distressed by the moment. In fact, she was getting ready to leave the sofa for a look of her own. Obviously, her husband felt unwilling to subject her to that kind of stress.
“Stay there, m’dear,” Oliver said. “I am in good hands, as you well know. Laura, you should ask the surgeon to tell you of the time he stitched a teat back on a cow’s udder.”
Well done, she thought, even as she laughed, and Nana relaxed on the sofa again. “You must tell me, Lieutenant.”
Brittle had finished unwinding the bandage. After folding the blood-dappled portion inward so Nana could not see it, the surgeon handed it to Laura. He snipped at the hair around Oliver’s ear.
“Oh, that cow. You would remind me, Captain. That was when I voyaged with you as surgeon’s assistant on the Chrysalis, wasn’t it? As I recall, you were a lieutenant, and determined to assure your captain that I could patch a cow’s teat.”
Laura asked. “On a ship?”
“It’s common enough,” Nana said. “You’d be amazed what some officers will take on board, as they prepare for a long voyage.”
“Pigs, cows, chickens … it’s a regular Noah’s ark,” Oliver said. “Due to my mismanagement, Captain Fitzgerald’s little Jersey sustained an undignified injury when a crew under my command swung her into the hold.”
“Nana, your husband promised me all kinds of perquisites if I would but take a needle and thread to the bovine,” Brittle said as he calmly snipped away.
“Did you succeed?” Laura asked, as the surgeon indicated Oliver’s mangled ear, which looked remarkably like liver.
“Succeed? Aye. Earned a prodigious kick to my ass, though.”
You are so composed, Laura thought, as Nana laughed. I can be, too, she told herself as she forced herself not to show any disgust at the sight before her. After the first inward quiver that evidence of raw mortality seemed to invite, she found herself more interested than squeamish.
“Hmm.”
Brittle stood by the captain, hands on hips, lips pursed.
“That is not edifying,” the captain said.
“Perhaps not to you, sir,” Brittle replied. “Your surgeon on the Tireless is still Joseph Barnhart?”
“Yes,” Oliver said, sounding wary.
“He did a fine job. When it heals, you’ll look a little lopsided, but I promise you, you won’t frighten children. Not even your own.”
Captain Worthy gingerly touched what remained of his ear. “Just as long as I still terrify midshipmen.”
“You will, sir. Lady Taunton, observe how well it is granulating.” He pointed at the raw rim. “Barnhart threw some nice blanket stitches on the lobe, or what’s left of it.”
She looked closer, because he seemed to expect it. As she gazed at the injury to her brother-in-law’s ear, it suddenly occurred to her that a common surgeon with the preposterous name of Philemon Brittle was treating her as an equal. She thought how appalled Sir James Taunton would have been by her even being in the room, much less in Torquay visiting a sister as illegitimate as she was. The sheer audacity of it all made her smile.
“It is funny-looking,” Brittle said, which made the captain grin.
“I’m
