by Don Jacobson
By this time, Cecil House had organized its response. A door from one of the pantries below stairs had been removed from its hinges and brought up through the front. The four men lowered the injured woman onto the flat surface, leaving her atop the coat. As the garment fell away, the extent of her injuries became apparent all. A blood-soaked handkerchief lay over the left side of her face. More blood had coursed from her nose down across her chin and stained her neck’s delicate white skin. Her left arm lay across her body, but the forearm was bent at an awkward angle.
General Fitzwilliam nodded to two of the men who had borne Miss Bennet from the park. Handing each of them his card, he shook their hands and murmured inaudible words of thanks. Then he turned back to Miss Bennet as three more footmen approached. Wilson had already transferred his grip from the coat by Miss Bennet’s head to the top of the door. Lifting the panel and keeping her level, the four servants slowly moved her up the front stairs and into the house.
Through all of the shifts, Miss Bennet neither moved nor made a sound.
Annie quickly opened the double doors leading into the Gold Suite, the premiere guest chambers on the second floor. The litter party followed her in, but stopped mid-room obviously wondering where to deposit their burden. Just then, Angus Campbell, the Cecil family physician, hurried in behind her. Surveying the room, the bluff Scot told the footmen to place the injured woman and the oak door atop the bed.
“You boys need to stay here. We will be shiftin’ her again. In the meantime, you need to clear every stick of furniture—all those chairs and settees and small tables—out of here.
“I will want a good-sized table, something like a dining table that would seat six people. But it needs to be sturdy. Anybody ken one of those?” Campbell demanded.
Annie paused for a moment and then stepped forward, “There is one such table in a private dining room just down the hall from here. I think it was a family heirloom from Commonwealth[xxi] times. It is rather massive and heavy.”
Campbell dropped his chin and gazed at her, “Well, Miss ???...”
“Reynolds, sir. Just Reynolds, please. I am Miss Bennet’s Lady’s Maid.”
“Well…Reynolds…if it is as you describe, this table sounds perfect. All right, lads, off wit’ ye now. I imagine you ken the table of which she speaks. Bring it back here and put it over in the middle of the room.”
The footmen moved off and the doctor continued addressing Annie, “If we are ta save your Mistress, we will have to operate, but I need ta examine her now. Do you have some scissors? We canna move her to undress her, and I need to examine her chest and arm without all the layers of cloth you so lovingly put on her just this morning.”
Annie quickly crossed the room to Miss Bennet’s sewing basket where she dug out a large pair of shears used for cutting bolts of cloth. Returning to Campbell, she held them against her chest. The doctor looked at her and raised an inquiring eyebrow.
Annie met his grey blue eyes with her rich caramel ones.
“Two things, Dr. Campbell.
“I am Miss Bennet’s Lady’s Maid. I dress her and disrobe her. Now, I am not being missish here, but t’would not be proper, in my mind, for you to remove her clothing, even with me here. I will be happy to cut away that which you tell me to assist in your examination.
“If you want me to remove every garment, I will. Though, sir, I hope you will preserve a bit of my poor lady’s modesty, if it is at all possible, until we can put her to bed in her night rail.”
Campbell’s lips twitched upward at her speech.
“Ach, my wee lassie, ye are a tough one. Just like your father and Auntie. Oh, yes, I ken the name Reynolds vairy-vairy well. Never fear, I will allow you to wield those blades. I am no surgeon, although from where I stand, we will be needing one, and one of the best. I think I will send for Maturin.[xxii]
“Now what was the second thing?”
“What happened to poor Miss Bennet, Doctor? I was already upstairs when the General came inside.”
Campbell paused before replying, gathering his thoughts and considering what to tell the young woman…no girl…standing before him. Giving a shrug, “I only caught bits of what Fitzwilliam was relaying to Lord Tom, but from what I gathered, some oversize vagrant tried to abscond with little Miss Cecil. Miss Bennet fought him off, but, in the process, he got in two vicious kicks—one to her ribs” pointing at the midriff “here and one to the side of her head” pointing to the still covered left side of Kitty’s face “here.
“The General dropped him with one shot to his gourd from about 30 yards.
“I will not coddle you, girl. From where I stand, Miss Bennet has no right to be among the living after the attack. Our job will be to keep her with us. So Miss Reynolds, let us get to work.”
Campbell examined Kitty starting with her head wounds and then gradually moved down her body. Both doctor and maid gasped and sighed when he lifted the now stiffening handkerchief away from the ravaged face. Campbell began muttering the grim catalog.
“Depressed fracture of the left cranium extending from above the ear into the temple. Maturin is going to enjoy working on that.
“The eye dinna look good. Cannot see anything other than the vitreous. He must have burst it like squeezin’ a grape when he kicked her. I’ll need to do a field enucleation once we get her cleaned up a bit.
“Various lacerations on the side of her face. Nothing too deep. No need for stitches. They will heal up nicely with nary a noticeable mark.
“Her nose is broken. That will take just a minute for me to get the septum lined up. Do that now while she is out.”
Annie then cut away the left sleeve on the pelisse and dress to expose the obviously fractured left arm. Campbell carried on.
“Lord be praised! I was sure that we would see a compound fracture or at least full breaks with dislocation. Oh, to be young again and have bones that are willing to bend a bit before they break.
“See this Miss Reynolds. Both her radius and ulna are broken, but they are green stick fractures. We can align her arm, reduce the breaks and then splint it all up. Little Miss Margaret could do this. Let me lift her arm…gently…gently. We need to see her ribcage, although I am encouraged about that.”
As Annie prepared to cut into the remains of the pelisse and gown to expose Kitty’s middle, the doors swung open and the four footmen began to manhandle the massive table into the room. Campbell stepped away from the bed to direct the placement.
He called over his shoulder, “Well, Miss Reynolds, you were right. This table could hold good King Henry if he decided to dance a jig on its top. Stay your cutting for a moment.
“Lads, park the table right there and throw a sheet over it. Then, move the door and Miss Bennet over to the table. Two of you go down to the kitchen and bring up a couple of empty basins with lye soap and two buckets of steaming hot water.
“Another of you locate a couple of short boards. Break up a packing case if you have to. Then find a yard or two of good clean rag we can cut up, so’s I can tie off the splint.”
Campbell stopped when he saw Wilson stare intently at the other three. Reading Henry’s looks and mind; the others sped off to fulfill Campbell’s orders. The doctor apprised the towering footman.
“You were the one who was out in the park. I dinna know what happened, but you look a bit worse for wear, lad. You seem intent on staying here with Miss Bennet. You can let up now. We will do all that we are able to help her.”
Henry shook his head, “No, Doctor. I let her down over in the park. My devil carried me away and Miss Bennet paid for it.”
Annie involuntarily exclaimed, “Like what happened upstairs?”
The old military doctor began adding two and two. He recognized the haunted look that tightened the skin around the man’s eyes. Campbell understood the level of guilt that came with surviving battle but never being able to forget the war.
No time to cure him now. Best thing is
to put him to work with some very specific tasks that will keep him occupied.
“How do I call you, son?”
“Wilson, sir…or Sergeant. I answer to either.”
“Sergeant it is, then. I need you to leave here and go to your quarters. Strip down and put on the cleanest, freshest clothes you have. Stay in shirtsleeves.
“Next, go downstairs to the kitchen and wash your hands and arms with the hottest water you can stand and do not be bashful with the soap. Oh, wash your face, too. We dinna want those cuts to fester. Scrape under your nails. Finally, grab clean napkins in each hand, and use them to open doors and on anything you touch as you return. Maturin will probably insist you wash again, but once, ready, twice, prepared. Are you clear? Go.”
With the room empty now save for the two of them and their patient, Annie bent to her task of unbuttoning the pelisse and cutting through layers of gown and petticoats. Then she split Miss Bennet’s stays from bottom to top leaving just her thin chemise between air and skin. Annie looked up at the doctor. He pursed his lips and shook his head. Understanding, Annie made a cut in the chemise and then gripping the flimsy undergarment in both hands tore it in two, exposing the governess’ midriff from her navel to just below her small breasts.
Campbell murmured his thanks as the maid stepped back. Reaching around Kitty’s ribcage, he smiled.
“Another stroke of luck. The brute must have been a bit distracted because he dinna squash her like he could have. All the ribs are there, although cracked. Nothing to tell me that her lung may have been punctured.”
As a final step to prepare Miss Bennet for her coming trials, Campbell told Annie to cut away the remainder of Kitty’s clothing and then cover her with sheets and blankets against the chill to come when the fireplace was smothered and sealed.
Chapter XII
Events were moving quickly. As supplies were ferried upstairs by a squad of footmen and maids, Campbell tightly wrapped the young woman’s battered midriff and splinted her arm. A freshly clothed Wilson, somber and subdued, but ready to play his part, also returned to the chamber which was quickly cooling now that the fire had been extinguished.
While he awaited the surgeon, Campbell directed Henry to support Kitty’s head while Annie focused the lacemaker’s lamp onto the remains of the violated left eye. The Scottish medic demonstrated that the five months since Waterloo had not dulled his skills. With practiced delicate movements Campbell removed the bloodied orb from its socket and gently detached it from the connective tissues and nerves. Then he packed the void with cotton wool that had been soaked in neutral spirits.
Stepping back and holding his hands against his lower back, Campbell stretched to relax tightened muscles.
“Miss Reynolds, Sergeant. I have done what I can for the time being. I now must discuss Miss Bennet’s condition with the Cecils. While I am away, Miss Reynolds, you will need to remove as much of her hair as you can. Wilson, go find Lord Tom’s valet and get his sharpest razor, his shaving brush and a cake of soap. While we await the surgeon, I will shave her scalp so we can deal with the worst of her injuries.
“What I have done just now will only matter if she makes it through the operation and the next few days. I will leave you to it.” With that, he departed .
Henry made to follow him out of the room, but Annie stopped him with a low cough. When he turned back, she motioned him over.
In a low voice she said, “Mr. Wilson…before you leave on your errand, I must ask you to help me. I know that cutting off a large clump of a lady’s hair seems like an easy task, but I have a small plan that will make Miss Bennet happy when she recovers.
“Would you please remove one of the pillows from the bed and strip off the pillow case? Good…now bring that over to me. Stand just behind Miss Bennet’s head and hold the case wide open.”
As Henry watched with widened eyes, Annie carefully unpinned the elaborate coiffure that had restrained Kitty’s golden curls. Every move she made was carefully designed so as not to pull at the purpling skin or the depressed area above the Hertfordshire lady’s left ear. When the hair was freed from its restraints, the maid spread it in a fan from the top of Kitty’s head over the edge of the door.
In a gesture showing such tenderness that a lump rose in Henry’s throat, Annie reached up and pulled off her mobcap. She untied a light blue satin ribbon from her own hair, a band that had been hidden until that moment.
How like a lady she is, Wilson mused, She may be forced to wear the black livery of a lady’s maid, but leave it to the dear girl to find a way to bring some color to her world, even if it is underneath a swatch of cloth demanded by her betters.
Swift and sure were Annie’s next movements. Using her ribbon, she tied off a massive hank of Kitty’s tresses leaving only about two inches on the head side of the band. Then she brought the heavy shears up and cut the tied mass free. A good two feet now hung from her hand. She ran her fingers through the golden fleece before lowering them into the pillowcase. Taking the linen and its burden from Henry, Annie carried it to the empty wardrobe on the opposite wall and placed it inside.
“There. That way they will not be thrown out by mistake.”
Henry looked at her quizzically. Annie let out a light laugh that tinkled like crystal wind chimes. In a teasing tone, she addressed the tall footman.
“Men! You have no idea why I did that, do you? Do you know how much of a young lady’s image of herself is tied up in her hair? Do you know how long it takes to put Miss Bennet’s hair into the simplest of styles? How long do you think I spend on my own hair?” Saying the last, she patted the side of her head. When he looked confused, she huffed and carried on.
“What do you think that poor girl is going to think when she awakens to find herself looking like the white ball on Lord Tom’s billiard table?
“That hair I just cut off and put aside took her years to grow. The only time a young lady…and even a young matron…cuts any of her hair is to trim the ends so they are even. Otherwise, no shears will ever approach any woman’s hair until she is much older, usually after her children are full-grown. My hair, if I let it down, would cover my entire back…and I am just seven and ten.
“You men are hopeless! I imagine with that bush you call hair, you stick your head under the pump out in the mews. Then you ruffle it with both hands and call it finished.”
Wilson unconsciously ran his right hand over his bristly cut blond mop. Annie shook her head with a snort. Then she finished her explanation.
“I saved her hair because I think we can have a wig made for Miss Bennet. I have a feeling that when her hair begins to grow back, it will be as tufty and as unmanageable as yours. While we could hide it under a scarf or turban, there will be many occasions where she would stand out less—although, poor girl, she will always be different from now on—if she had a full head of hair. With time, the need for it will diminish. But until then; since it is hers, it will match her brows nicely.’
Henry conceded the logic of her position and her strategic victory with a wry smile and then by styling a dignified bow in her direction. He quickly left the room to get the equipment ordered by the doctor.
That is the first rule of engagement when facing a female of the species: She is always correct!
While she waited for the men to return, Annie carefully trimmed away as much of the stubble fringing Miss Bennet’s scalp as she was able. Then she finished removing Kitty’s clothing, hoping to make her more comfortable. All the while she watched her charge’s body, face and remaining eye to see if any level of awareness was returning. Sadly, the only sign of life was a slight rosy tinge to her otherwise alabaster cheeks, an occasional flicker under the undamaged eyelid and the gentle rising and falling of her chest.
Her observations were interrupted by Henry’s return. He made himself busy for a moment finding a side table where he arranged the razor, soap and brush. While he busied himself by the makeshift surgery, Annie settl
ed herself on the heavily embroidered counterpane covering the mattress on the massive bedstead. The plush down quilt underneath comfortably absorbed her modest weight. She patted the bed wistfully and bounced up and down.
So much more comfortable than the straw-stuffed blue ticking-covered mattress Sarah and I share under the eaves. And do not get me talking about the cornhusk filled cushioning we have to endure out at Larchmont. What I would give to spend just one night bundled in the luxury of a bed like this.
Henry finished his task and looked around the room. Spying Annie seated on the bed, he was drawn to her playful appearance as she sat there bobbing on the edge of the mattress. Her mood was, admittedly, unconscious, being somewhat like that of a small child discovering a particularly delicious piece of candy unattended near the edge of a table. Yet, her display was the only lightness in that otherwise somber room where an unconscious woman rested atop a dining table awaiting desperate actions that might forestall adding her name to the eternal butcher’s bill.
Wilson, himself, was still in a state of shock and had not yet begun to understand what happened in the park. He knew that the entire staff was wavering between disgust and antagonism concerning his failure. While he had not come across any outright hostility as of yet, many a sidelong glance was cast his way when he crossed the kitchen to the sinks and used the heavy hogs bristle brush to scrub his hands and arms before returning to the Gold Suite.
Although he believed himself worthy of being shunned by all who were right and polite, he could not bear to be alone right now. He needed to be near the one person who brought him peace. However, he knew that the rules of propriety would be exceeded if he sat next to Miss Reynolds.
Thus he picked up the chair he had been using as he had sat next to Miss Bennet’s head and carried it over near the maid. Then he settled down in it to await Campbell’s return.
