Chapter 91
Morwenna was thoroughly frustrated.
She decided that next time something came up, she'd handle it herself. Relying on others clearly wasn't working out.
Poor Fletcher had no idea about the underhanded tactics Stuart was up to.
As she turned to leave, Morwenna declared, "I'll go call a doctor."
Stuart's tone was nonchalant. “Don’t bother. You take care of it. If you bring someone else in, I won’t let them treat it.”
“Stuart, how can you be so reckless with your own health!”
Without turning, Stuart faced away from Morwenna. “I’m not joking.”
Morwenna had no doubt about the seriousness of Stuart’s words. He was known for his reckless traits. NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.
Through clenched teeth, she said, “I'll grab the first aid kit then.”
His voice was calm. “If things are still where they were, it should be in the second drawer of the storage cabinet over there.”
Morwenna found the first aid kit exactly where Stuart had said it would be.
She carried it over and grimly began to peel off the gauze from Stuart’s back.
The gauze was blood-stained and stuck to his wounds after drying. Carefully, Morwenna dampened it with antiseptic solution, slowly peeling it away.
Then she saw the extent of Stuart’s injuries—various cuts and bruises, some swollen, even pus forming under the moist bandages.
Morwenna gasped.
It was worse than she thought.
She stood up abruptly. “We really need to get a doctor, Stuart. Your wounds are infected.”
“No doctors.”
“But... I don’t know how to handle this properly.”
“Just clean it like a normal wound. I’ll go to the hospital later.”
Stuart was so stubborn, Morwenna felt helpless.
Remembering these wounds were a result of him saving her, her stern face softened with reluctance.
She couldn’t just leave him like this. Taking a deep breath, she recalled how Fletcher had treated Stuart’s wounds last time. She methodically disinfected the wounds, then carefully put on clean gauzes.
Her hands, cold with nervousness, gently touched Stuart’s back.
To Stuart, it felt like the intense heat of summer being cooled by tiny snowflakes falling on his skin, calming the restlessness within him.
This was Stuart's way of showing trust.
His back was covered in scars, vulnerably exposed for her to treat.
In the past, there had been instances where someone had tampered with Stuart’s wounds.
But Morwenna didn’t know any of that; she just thought Stuart was being headstrong.
Finally, Morwenna finished rebandaging all of Stuart’s wounds.
He stood up, put on his shirt without facing her, and then turned around.
At such close proximity, Morwenna instinctively stepped back.
Stuart seemed slightly irritated. “Come here.”
Instead of approaching, Morwenna turned and ran, calling over her shoulder, “Stuart, I've got to go; remember to go to the hospital this afternoon.”
“Morwenna!”
She didn’t stop, just ran out of the room.
Stuart might have wanted to talk, but Morwenna wasn’t interested in listening.
She wanted to regard Stuart with gratitude, care about his health, care about his injuries, but she wanted no part in vague emotional entanglements.
Besides, she really did have other obligations—she was off to a tutoring job.
To escape from Stuart, Morwenna dashed out of Hetfield's Homestead, forgetting all about lunch.
The tutoring job was just down the road, past a tree-lined path about a hundred meters long.
It was only when she reached the neighboring house that Morwenna remembered she hadn’t eaten yet.