Mr. Murry heard the young Lady murmuring something under her breath. He saw her eyebrows pull tightly together in a deep frown.
"My Lady," Murry asked softly, stepping a little closer to her. "Did you say something?"
Camilla blinked. She quickly pulled herself together. She forced her face to relax. She put on a calm mask for the worried older man.
She turned to Murry.
"It is okay," Camilla said in a smooth, steady voice. She offered him a small, reassuring smile to calm his panic. "Don't be worried, Uncle Murry. I will handle it."
Murry let out a shaky breath, feeling a massive wave of relief that she was taking charge of the terrible situation.
"Have the maids send a bowl of warm water," Camilla instructed clearly, listing the medical items she needed. "Bring clean cotton strips, a soft towel, strong alcohol, and healing balm... or whatever you people use here for wounds."
Murry nodded his gray head rapidly. He understood.
"Yes, My Lady! Right away!" Murry replied eagerly.
