Page 58 of Rose
Elizabeth whimpered.
“Enough talk, Stepmother. Call Betsy and have her bring the items Rose needs.” Then he turned to Rose. “Do what you can. I will fetch the water,” he promised before racing out of the room.
“I do not know what our pantry holds, but I’m certain we have honey,” Iris said. Then she called out, “Betsy. Betsy!”
Within moments, a young maid appeared.
“Betsy, find Darby and send him to fetch the physician. Then run to the pantry and gather some honey and…” Iris’s words trailed off. She looked at Rose for the item she forgot.
“And ground oak bark,” Rose said.
“Hurry, Betsy,” Iris cried.
Eyes wide, the maid turned on her heel but stopped when Rose called out, “Wait!”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“We also need some strips of clean linen.”
With a quick curtsy, Betsy rushed from the room.
At that moment, Elizabeth started to shake.
Rose turned to Owen, who stood in the doorway with a helpless look on his face. “Fetch a blanket,” she told him. “The initial shock of her injury is fading, and the pain is coming on stronger. The blanket will soothe her.” Then she turned to Iris. “Open the casement to invite in the fresh air.”
Iris did as she was bade while Rose continued to hold and soothe Elizabeth.
A moment later, Tristan returned with a bucket of cold water. He set it on the ground. Straightaway, Rose immersed Elizabeth’s hand.
“My sweet girl,” Owen said to Elizabeth, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. “Your papa is here.” Then he stood straight. “Where is the physician?” he bellowed and started pacing the room.
Tristan gestured to Rose to get her attention. “I think my father will be more comfortable waiting in the courtyard for the physician.”
“Yes,” Iris said. “Take him away before he wears a hole through my floor.” Then she turned back to Rose. “Always with the ghastly pacing.”
Rose bit her cheek to keep from smiling. Like father like son, she thought.
“’Tis all right, lass,” Rose crooned, wrapping her arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders.
“The water lessens the sting,” Elizabeth said, her voice bleary with tears.
Rose smiled encouragingly. “Good, lass. Keep it under water or the pain will return.”
Just then Betsy barreled into the room with a basket piled high. “I’ve got the honey and bark and plenty of linen,” she said, panting.
Rose set to work mixing the honey and ground oak bark into a thick paste. Then she laid out the strips of linen so that they were easy to grasp.
“She must soak her hand for a while longer, then I’ll need yer help to dress the wound,” she said to Iris.
When the water had grown tepid, Rose gently withdrew Elizabeth’s hand from the bucket and patted it dry. “Be ready with the linen,” Rose instructed.
Iris took up several strips and nodded.
Then Rose scooped a handful of the oak paste and smeared it over Elizabeth’s red, blistered palm.
Elizabeth whimpered from the pain.
“Betsy,” Rose said sharply. “Boil some water and make a Willow Bark tisane. Quickly now.” Then she turned to Elizabeth. “Willow Bark will bring you comfort.”
