Portsmouth, England-1752
It was a welcomed reprieve for Lucy Davies, to have absolute silence in the house. For the ten years that she had been a servant in the home of Doctor James Archer, patients had come and gone as they pleased. Although Doctor Archer usually saw to his patients at his clinic in town, some drunken sailors who had been in a brawl or gentlemen and ladies that had been the victims of carriage accidents or even the occasional elderly man with minor health issues.
Of course, Lucy was eager to help Doctor Archer if she was asked to. Though, it was always welcomed to have the rare evening of peace & quiet.
After Lucy said her prayers, she climbed into bed and blew out her candle. Her head hadn't been on the pillow for a minute, when she heard pounding on the door downstairs. Sighing, Lucy wrapped herself in her dressing gown and carefully made her way through the dark hallway and down the stairs.
"Who is it?" Lucy asked.
"Open the door please. I must see Doctor Archer." A voice mumbled.
Lucy could hear the urgency in the man's voice and opened the door. She was greeted by a gentleman, slumped against the door frame, and clutching a bleeding leg. He was wearing a naval uniform, one that an officer would normally been seen in. Just looking at the gentleman's pale skin and hearing his labored breathing, the wound was severe.
"Doctor Archer!" Lucy called out.
Doctor Archer, a man already graying in his 30s, came out of his room. He was wearing his nightshirt, nightcap, and slippers. He seemed to be half-asleep, until he saw the gentleman on his steps.
"Dear God!" Doctor Archer knelt beside the gentleman and held his candle up to the leg. "A bullet. It's not passed through. Lucy, help me get him to my room."
Lucy and Doctor Archer helped the gentleman to his feet and to Doctor Archer's bed. The gentleman was gritting his teeth, and Lucy could tell that he was eager to swear. A gentleman, indeed.
Doctor Archer disappeared for a brief moment but returned soon with a basin filled with water, a cloth, and his medical bag.
"Lucy, go to the liquor cabinet and fetch a bottle of whiskey."
Lucy curtsied and scurried out of the room. She often kept all the keys in the house on a chain that she kept her in pocket. Fishing the chain out of her gown's pocket, she unlocked the liquor cabinet and found a bottle of whiskey, the last one. She rushed back to the room and handed the bottle to Doctor Archer, who helped the gentleman take a few swallows. After a moment, the gentleman relaxed and Doctor Archer could begin surgery.
Doctor Archer cut open the gentleman's leg with his scalpel, and then took hold of his forceps. He gestured Lucy closer, and she walked up to him, holding the candle towards the leg. Doctor Archer had forgotten his spectacles and the lighting was dim to begin with.
The gentleman held back his moans & cries as Doctor Archer dug the forceps into his leg to fetch the bullet. Had there been no alcohol, he might have tried to get up and run away.
Thankfully, the bullet was easy to find and remove, and Doctor Archer then carefully stitched the wound close. By the time he finished, the gentleman had quieted down and was at ease.
"I'm not certain how long ago he was shot. It's best if he stays for a few days, until I can check for infection. He'll be moved to the guest room when his strength has returned. Do you mind watching over him for an hour?"
Lucy nodded and Doctor Archer left the room. Lucy grabbed the cloth, soaked it in the basin, and laid it on the gentleman's forehead. He turned his head towards her and opened his eyes.
"Doctor Archer has left you in my care for a moment. There's no cause for worry." Lucy said.
"Who are you?" The gentleman asked.
"My name is Lucy. Lucy Davies. I am one of the doctor's servants."
"My name is Neville. Captain Neville Keene."