Jamie looked at me for a moment, then smiled in wry realization.
“Ye still think they’re honorable men, don’t ye, Sassenach? The British army?”
“I—well, some of them are, aren’t they?” I said, rather taken aback by this question. “Lord John? His brother?”
“Mmphm.” It was a grudging acquiescence that stopped well short of full agreement. “Did I ever tell ye what His Grace did to me twenty years ago?”
“Actually, no, I don’t think so.” I wasn’t surprised that he should still carry a grudge about it, whatever it was, but that could wait. “As for the army in general … well, I suppose you have some small point. But I fought with the British army, you know—”
“Aye, I do,” he said. “But—”
“Just listen. I lived with them, I fought with them, I mended them and nursed them and held them when they died. Just—just as I did when we fought—” I had to stop and clear my throat. “When we fought for the Stuarts. And …” My voice faltered.
“And what?” He stood very still, leaning on his fists on the kitchen table, eyes fixed on my face.
“And a good officer would never leave his men.”
The big room was silent save for the murmur of the fire and the bumping of the kettle, about to boil. I closed my eyes, thinking, Beauchamp, you idiot … Because he’d done that. Abandoned his men at Monmouth, in order to save my life. It didn’t matter that the battle was over, the enemy in retreat, that there was no danger to the men at that point, that nearly all of them were militia on temporary enlistment, whose service would be legally up by the next day’s dawn. Many had left already. But it didn’t matter. He’d left his men.
“Aye,” he said softly, and I opened my eyes. He straightened up slowly, stretching his back. “Well, then. D’ye think Ulysses is that kind of officer? Will he come back for his corporal?”
“I don’t know.” I bit my lip. “What will you do if he does?”
He looked down at the tabletop, frowning as though the scrubbed oak planks might be a scrying-glass that would show him the future.
“No,” he said at last, and shook himself. “Nay, he won’t come himself, but he likely will send someone else. He won’t come within my grasp, and me warned, but he’ll not leave the man.” He thought for another moment and nodded, to himself as much as me.
“Can ye mend him so that he can travel, Sassenach?”
“Yes, within limits. That’s why I asked you.”
“Do that, then, if ye will. When it’s over, I’ll talk to Corporal Jackson and make out what to do.”
“Jamie.” He’d turned to go, but stopped and turned round to face me.
“Aye?”
“You’re honorable. I know it, and so do you.” He smiled a little at that.
“I try to be. But war’s war, Sassenach. Honor only makes it a bit easier to live wi’ yourself, afterward.”
I WAS MORE than a little perturbed by that “and make out what to do,” but I wasn’t personally equipped to do more than reduce Corporal Jackson’s fracture, stop the bleeding, and relieve his pain, so far as possible.
“Right,” I said to Jamie. “I’m going to need you, though, for a few minutes. Someone’s got to hold on to him while I pull his leg straight, and Fanny’s nowhere near tall or strong enough.”
Jamie looked less than enthused at this prospect, but followed me back to the surgery, where I explained things to the corporal.
“You haven’t got to do a thing but lie still and relax as much as you can.”
“I will do my best, madam.” He was sweating and clammy and his lips were nearly white. I hesitated for a moment, but then reached for my ether bottle. The possible strain on his heart versus the advantages of his leg being completely limp … no contest.
“I’m going to make you fall asleep,” I said, showing him the wickerwork mask and the dropping bottle. “I’ll put this mask on your face, and then put a few drops of this liquid onto it. It smells a little … odd, but if you just breathe normally, you’ll go to sleep and it won’t hurt when I set your leg.”
The corporal looked more than dubious about this, but before he could protest, Jamie squeezed his shoulder.
“If I wanted to kill ye, I’d just have drowned you in the creek or shot ye,” he said, “rather than lug ye all the way uphill so my wife could poison ye. Now lie down.” He pressed Jackson’s shoulders firmly down and the man gave way, reluctantly.