Nicholas knew how paltry a soldier’s pension was. “Were you planning to come and see me?”
Warren shrugged. “I’m on the lookout for a day or two’s work. I knew you to be fair-minded and popular with the men. But I decided against it. I was about to pack up and move on.”
“Well, as I’m here now, let’s hear that long story.”
Warren hesitated; his knuckles whitened as he held the cup. “When I returned home after Waterloo, I discovered my father had died, and my brother took over our property. He kicked me out.”
“Why would he do that?”
He evaded Nicholas’s eyes and lowered his head over the cup. “We didn’t get on. Not since a woman we both wanted chose me. A sore point with him, made worse because my father favored me. Peter never got over it.”
“It appears you’ve had more than your share of bad luck.” Nicholas motioned to the meager camp. “But what led you to this?”
“I first joined the soldiers filling London in search of work. Times are still bad after years of war. Many desert the country and crowd into the city.” He straightened his shoulders. “But I’m better off than most. I still have my limbs and my sight.”
“The Duke of Shewsbury has set up a foundation to help ex-soldiers,” Nicholas said. “Heard of it?”
Warren shook his head. “Too many ahead of me there.”
“But why have you had no success? You’re an educated man.”
His expression turned bitter. “My brother spread lies about me in the city, and people shut their doors to me. I gave up seeking the work I’m trained to do. But I wanted to get out of London, found it hard to breathe there.” He shrugged. “I struggled to regain a sense of myself after the war. Life is easier out here.”
Nicholas inclined his head in agreement. He knew what war could do to a man. But he wasn’t about to patronize him.
“Been traveling the country for about a year now,” Warren said, draining his cup. “When the stranger, Vano, told me whose estate this was, it surprised me.”
Nicholas made a snap decision. “Fortuitous, perhaps. My secretary, Paul Williams, has inherited a property and plans to marry. I am searching for his replacement. Would you consider the position?”
Warren’s eyes widened, and he attempted to tidy his overlong hair. “I would be grateful, Cap...milord.” He gazed down at his ragged clothing, his broken nails, and the ingrained dirt on his hands. “I’m not in suitable shape for such a post.”
“That is easily remedied.” Nicholas grinned. “A good soak and a haircut will do wonders.” And a few square meals. “My valet will take care of it. He’ll drum up some clothes to fit you for the time being.”
Hope crept into Warren’s eyes. “That’s generous of you, milord.”
“Nonsense. I know how much pluck you have. You saved many lives during the war.” There were still too many good men unrecognized by the government for their years of service, starving on the streets of London.
“Why don’t you pack up here and come to the house. I’ll alert my butler, Abercrombie.”
He cleared his throat. “I’d prefer the servants’ entrance, milord.”
“Whatever feels comfortable. The staff will expect you.” Nicholas rose to leave. “Do you have food?”
“Enough rations for a day or so.”
“Come when you’re ready.”
Warren straightened. He raised a hand to salute, then dismay darkening his eyes, he bowed instead.
Nicholas chuckled. “None of that.”
Warren grinned. “Sorry, milord.”
The matter needed sensitive handling. Nicholas didn’t want to rob the man of whatever pride he had left. He’d seen it too often. A man could be stripped of so much that he lost sight of himself. And the path back was hard. Would Warren show up or move on? He wasn’t entirely sure. Nicholas hoped he would stay. Warren was reliable, and he liked him.
He rode back to the house. When he entered the stable block, his head groom hurried over to take his horse. “I thought you should know, my lord, Lord Leeming has ridden off on the chestnut.”
Nicholas frowned. “Alone?”
