To Desire a Wicked Duke (Courtship Wars)

“Ned … Ned Crutchley.”

“Were you a soldier, Ned?”

“Aye, a gunner. Served with the Royal Artillery under General Lord Mulgrave.”

Which doubtless explained his loss of hearing, Tess reflected. The continuous explosions from cannon bombardments had deafened many a gunner.

“You seem to be ill, Ned. Do you have a fever?”

“Aye, summat. Lost me arm at Wa’erloo. Never healed proper. Gives me a brain fever sometimes.”

Tess felt her heart twist. From the terrible accounts she’d heard, the Battle of Waterloo, where Allied armies had finally defeated Napoleon Bonaparte once and for all, had been hell on earth. So much blood had been shed, so many lives lost, including her beloved Richard’s. Even the men who had survived physically sometimes suffered from mental trauma.

She knew because she had spent countless hours sitting by the bedsides of wounded and dying war veterans, holding frail hands, sometimes reading aloud, sometimes singing, sometimes simply speaking in a low, soothing voice about nothing much at all.

Recognizing Ned’s plight, Tess came to a decision. Her aim had to be to make him feel safe for now. They could sort out the issues of his ghostly behavior later.

Just then, however, she heard the sound of pounding footsteps. An instant later, Ian burst into the room, holding a pistol, his expression fierce.

When Ned jumped and tried to crawl back into the passage, Tess placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and said hastily, “It is all right, Ned. This is my husband, Ian. He will not hurt you either, I promise you.”

Ned stilled at the soothing sound of her voice, but then he simply collapsed on the carpet. Curling into a fetal ball, he lay there cringing, his one hand covering an ear as he rocked back and forth, moaning.

Tess felt a sob well in her throat. It enraged her that this poor soul who had given so much in service to his country should be reduced to this quivering mass of fear.

Swallowing hard, she reached out to stroke Ned’s good arm while she met her husband’s eyes with grim determination.

“Ian,” she said calmly, as if her heart wasn’t breaking. “This is Mr. Ned Crutchley. He has a fever from his war wound, and I intend to care for him.”

The fact that their “ghost” had turned out to be a wounded war veteran who suffered a touch of madness caught Ian somewhat by surprise, yet he was not at all surprised when Tess decided to champion the intruder. For her own safety, he wanted to forbid her, yet he couldn’t help but respect her for her fearless compassion.

Despite his concern, therefore, Ian held his tongue and watched as she tried to soothe the trembling man.

When Ned’s moaning eventually ceased so that he merely lay curled there on the floor, mute and shivering, Tess stood and fetched a quilt from her bed and covered his emaciated body.

By that time a small crowd had gathered out in the corridor. Catching sight of Mrs. Hiddleston, Tess quietly summoned the housekeeper into the room.

“Do you know this man, Mrs. Hiddleston?” she murmured.

“Yes, indeed, your grace. Crutchley came back from the wars a bit daft.”

“Does he live near here?”

“In truth, I do not know where now. He once shared a cottage with his daughter in Fowey, but she died while he was away.”

Fowey was the nearby fishing village, but it was still some distance from here. Tess’s mouth tightened. “Then he will sleep here at Falwell tonight. Will you prepare a bedchamber for him, please?”

The housekeeper looked slightly aghast. “Your grace, are you certain?”

“Quite certain. He is ill and starving, and he needs warmth and sustenance and medical care.”

Mrs. Hiddleston frowned, but pursed her lips in thought. “There is a small room off the kitchens that is always warm from the hearth fires. I could make up a bed for him there.”

“That should do for now.”

Still the woman hesitated, shooting a critical glance down at Crutchley before raising another objection. “No doubt he is crawling with vermin.”

“We can burn bed linens later. When you have arranged a bed for him, I wish you to bring me some broth and a bit of bread and cheese to start with. And some cool water and cloths so I can try to bring down his fever.”