Damon sat alone. He looked down at his freshly bandaged hand. Then, he looked at the dirty white lace handkerchief sitting on his desk.
Damon reached out and picked up the lace cloth. He held it gently in his large, scarred fingers. He rubbed his thumb over the soft fabric.
He reached out and rang a small silver bell on his desk.
A young maid quickly entered the study. "Yes, General?"
Damon held out the dirty handkerchief. "Take this," Damon ordered softly. "Have it washed very carefully. Use the best soap. Do not damage the lace. When it is clean and dry, bring it directly back to me. Do not return it to the Lady."
The maid looked slightly confused, but she took the handkerchief gently. "Yes, My Lord. I will see to it immediately." She bowed and left the room.
Damon leaned back in his leather chair. He closed his eyes, resting his head.
