The Surgeon's Lady
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 not laughing at your ear, Oliver,” Laura protested. “Lt. Brittle, I might tell you later what was amusing me.”
    “Very well,” he said, holding out his hand. “Give me that same pad, please, and then the bandage. I’ll reuse it now, but you should replace it tomorrow with a length of gauze I will leave you.”
    He seemed to take for granted she would tend Captain Worthy. “I will if Nana lets me,” Laura replied. “After all, this is her ear.”
    Both Worthys laughed and exchanged glances that told Laura she was going to busy herself somewhere in the house that afternoon, far from their bedroom.
    Lt. Brittle finished his work. “Take good care of him, Nana,” he said. “If he tries to leave the house in less than three days, you have my permission to shoot him.” He replaced the scissors and pocketed his instrument envelope. “Captain, when you return to Plymouth for your court martial, drop by Stonehouse. I’ll compound a salve for you. G’day now.”
    She followed him into the hall. “Court martial? What do you mean? ”
    “Every captain who loses a ship goes through a court martial,” the surgeon explained, as she walked with him. “It’s routine, and from what my father
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