Page 30 of The Lady's Last Mistake
“I did tell her to go for the evening,” he said, his voice calm and measured. “Well then, Miss Banks, I’ll need you to assist in her place.”
“Me?” She felt glued to the spot as she looked on, thebloody gash along Amir’s calf already sending her stomach into a swirl.
Grant threw the shorn trouser leg to the floor and peered at her, slightly bemused. Then, he spoke to the boy. “Amir, this is Miss Jane Banks. She is going to be helping me.”
The boy turned his dark brown eyes onto her. They were filled with doubt. When he bit his bottom lip against a whimper of pain, Cassie realized she was being silly. Of course she would help. The boy was injured, and his father was frantic with worry.
“Should I fetch some hot water?” she asked, shedding her pelisse and gloves.
“And a syringe and tincture of iodine,” Grant replied, preoccupied as he inspected the gash. “You’ll find them in the second cabinet, third shelf.”
Cassie started moving, even though she was full of the same doubt that had been in Amir’s expression. She searched for a bowl in the kitchen to fill with steaming water that remained on the stove. It sloshed over the brim and wet the floor as she returned to the office, where Grant had lit the large lantern. It sparkled light throughout the room.
“Place the bowl here, Miss Banks,” he said, gesturing toward a small stand next to the examination table. She did, and then went to the cabinets for the syringe and tincture. She found them, along with a stack of clean linens.
Grant took the syringe and drew up water from the bowl.
“I have a riddle for you, Amir,” he said. “What is something that belongs to you but is mostly used by others?”
The boy frowned, wincing as Grant used the syringe toflush the gash of dirt and debris. “I don’t know, Doctor Brown.”
“Here’s a hint. I just used it. So did your father when he brought you into my office.”
Cassie bit back a grin as Grant flushed the wound a second, then a third time. All the while, Amir pinched his brow in thought. Then, he showed a toothy grin.
“My name!”
“Nicely done,” Grant said while dribbling the purplish liquid he’d called iodine over the gash. “Miss Banks, hold this to the wound, please.”
He placed a linen over the boy’s leg and beckoned her forward. Cassie reached her hand out, hesitantly. Grant gently took it and, pulling her closer, placed her palm onto the linen. “That’s right. Light pressure, like that. Good, all right, here’s another for you, Amir.”
As he went to his cabinets and collected some more items, he recited another riddle. “What is light as a feather, and yet the strongest person in the world cannot hold it for five minutes?”
Mr. Mansouri crushed his cap and looked on as Grant returned with black suturing floss and a curved needle.
“That don’t make no sense,” Amir said, then guessed, “Air?”
“Very close,” Grant said, lifting Cassie’s hand. “Thank you, Miss Banks,” he murmured, his eyes meeting hers for a moment.
How could he be so calm? He was entirely relaxed, moving about with confidence and dexterity.
“Here is a hint: if you fall into the Thames, you best do this quick.”
Amir smacked his head with his palm. “Hold my breath! That’s the answer. Breath.”
Grant praised him again, and then turned serious. “All right, Amir. I’ve got to place some sutures to close this wound. Are you ready? I promise to be as fast as possible.”
The boy squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.
“How about a contest between yourself and Miss Banks?” Grant proposed as he placed the first stitch. “Shall we see who can answer this next riddle first?”
Cassie shook her head. “I am terrible at riddles.”
“Amir is very good,” Grant replied, “so my money is on him. Here it is: Give me a drink, and I die. Feed me, and I grow bigger. What am I?”
He worked swiftly, his hands moving with ease and grace. Amir kept his eyes pinched shut, his nose crinkled.
“A drink of what?” the boy asked.
