Martha hurried forward with a worried frown and put a hand to Ailis’s brow. “Your cheeks are quite pink, but your forehead feels cool.”
“I’m sure I have a little fever,” Ailis said, silently praying for forgiveness for the small lie. A mere fib. A slight exaggeration. “This shoulder injury is wreaking havoc with my body. First I am too cold, and then too hot. Then hot and cold at the same time. It is most disconcerting.”
Martha did not appear to be fooled, and grinned. “His Grace has a way of disconcerting young ladies.”
Ailis felt another flutter of her heart. “Oh, Martha. I am almost thirty. I hardly count as young anymore.”
“Lamb,” Martha said sternly, “you are a match for any of those fancy London lasses making their debuts. If His Grace ever got his head out of his arse, he might see you for the gem you are.”
Ailis laughed. “Martha! That is quite an outrageous remark. Do not ever let the duke hear you say that.”
“Oh, I shall never be that foolish. I need my position at Langford Hall and would not risk it for anything. But is it not fun to dream of a match between the two of you?”
“No, I would never dare think of it, even dream of it. My father was nothing more than a village solicitor. In fact, our village’s only solicitor. He handled deeds and testaments mainly. We had no grand connections and there were years we barely made it by on his earnings.”
She glanced around the duke’s elegant bedchamber. “Just look at this room. The mahogany wainscoting alone is worth more than the entirety of the home where I grew up. If His Grace ever decides to marry, he will choose one of his ilk. A duke’s daughter, perhaps. If the girl is very pretty, he might bepersuaded to offer for an earl’s daughter or that of a viscount. I doubt he would ever look lower.”
Martha sighed. “I suppose you are right. But he is above forty now and graying at the temples. Still quite handsome, but growing more set in his ways with each passing year. I don’t know if he will ever marry, so it is all idle consideration.”
Ailis pursed her lips. “Has he always been this reclusive? You’ve been with the family a very long time. What was he like when he was younger?”
Martha walked over to the tray she had brought in and set on a side table. She began to fuss with the fare, cutting a soft bun, putting it on a plate, and then pouring a cup of tea for Ailis. “These are for you, lamb. Get a little sustenance in you before you fall asleep for the night.”
“All right, but will you not tell me a little about the duke in his younger days?” Ailis took a sip of the offered tea and nibbled on the bun, sparing a smile for Martha when she took a seat beside her bed.
“Oh, he was quite the dashing lad. Handsome as sin. Always the handsomest boy, even as an infant. He used to laugh more often than he does now.”
Ailis nodded. “He so rarely laughs.”
“He used to enjoy parties and was considered quite the rake. But all that changed when he returned from the war.”
Ailis set aside her tea. “The war changed many men, as I expect all such brutal conflagrations do. But he was already here when I first arrived, so he did not stay on and fight to the end at Waterloo.”
“His years of service were mostly in Spain, in the earlier years of the war. His father was alive and duke at the time. You ought to have heard the row when his son came to him and said he’d bought his commission. As eldest, he ought to have stayed home and prepared to take over the Ramsdale holdings, but hehad been working alongside his father for years and claimed he already knew what needed to be done.”
“Still, it would all go to naught if he died.”
Martha nodded. “This is exactly what his father argued. But I think His Grace enlisted because he was afraid his younger brother would be sent off. You know, first is the heir. Second is for the military. But Edward, the younger boy, was too gentle a soul and His Grace feared the lad would never survive.”
“I see. He enlisted to protect the younger sibling.” Ailis was not surprised to learn of this, for the duke did have keenly protective instincts. She had berated him about his lack of involvement with his subjects when scrounging for his contributions, but it was not completely true. He was not socially involved, but did take good care of those in his demesne in most other respects. The problem of absorbing all the unemployed soldiers returning from war was something almost every town in England had to deal with and would not be quickly solved.
“He returned to Broadmoor only a few weeks before you arrived at your uncle’s vicarage. The duke won’t ever talk about his years abroad, but he was taken prisoner toward the end of his tour of service in Spain. It was during one of those awful, bloody battles to claim a bridge that was vital to Napoleon’s army.”
Ailis was quite familiar with the efforts it took to push the French out of Portugal and Spain. Indeed, painfully aware.
“Several of our village boys died over there, although a few made it home and credited His Grace for their survival.”
“This should have pleased him.”
“I’m sure it did. But that year he spent as a prisoner of the French took a terrible toll on him. He managed to escape after several thwarted attempts, and then reported straight to the War Office in London. Only after giving them all the information he had gathered did he come home to Langdon Hall. He has never spoken a word about his time in captivity or his battle woundsthat must have run deep. It has been six years since he came home and closed himself off to one and all.”
“No wonder he knows so much about mending bones. How badly was he injured while in the army?”
“Quite badly, Miss Temple. Indeed, we were all so worried about him.”
Ailis inhaled sharply. “Oh dear.”
“It is not something we spread about. The duke is entitled to his privacy. I think this is why he will not retain the services of a valet. He does not like anyone to look at his scars.”
