Page 1 of A Gifted Earl

Prologue

1814 – Close to a battlefield in France.

“You’ve a deft hand for it.”

The young man tied off the last stitch in the horse’s shoulder and looked up, only then becoming consciously aware of the older man who had spoken. He’d been so deeply focused on his task that he’d welcomed the extra hands helping to keep the horse still as he worked, but not thought at all about the person whose hands they were.

He rose, wiping the sweat from his brow, and nodded.

“Thank you for the compliment – and for the steadying hands. There are never enough men about to help – at least not men with enough sympathy for the horses to be useful. The horses know if a man doesn’t care for them.”

The older man nodded, still idly stroking the nose of the horse.

“You’re right there – animals know when someone means them well – or ill.”

The younger man went to the foot of a nearby tree, and retrieved a battered bucket.

“There’s some extra feed for him here – we don’t have much, but I like to reward them for not kicking me away when I’m trying to sew them up.”

They tethered the horse back on the end of the horse lines, far enough from the nearest other horse that he’d be able to eat in peace, and left him there. As they turned to walk back into the centre of the camp, the older man cleared his throat, as if he wanted to say something, and wasn’t sure how the younger man would react. Eventually, he must have decided just to speak.

“Like I said, you do a good job of it. I dare say that you sew better than a lot of genteel young ladies do. I… I wasn’t just passing today – I sought you out intentionally.”

The younger man paused, startled.

“Intentionally? Whatever for? I haven’t done anything to get me in trouble with the General, have I?”

The older man laughed, shaking his head.

“Far from it. Word has spread that you’re good at putting the broken back together, and in the aftermath of battles, that’s a very valuable skill. A skill I need. I’m a surgeon – the only one this regiment has, at present. I want to co-opt you to the medical corps – what there is left of it. I’m convinced that you’ll be just as good at putting men back together as horses. In a way, men are easier – you can explain things to them, and they’ll usually at least try to co-operate.”

The last of the light was fading from the sky as they reached the cook tents, and they joined the queue in silence. It was only once they’d eaten that the younger man sighed, then gave a nod.

“I’ll do it. You’ll have much to teach me, for it’s not a thing I ever thought to find myself doing, nor a thing I was raised for, but I’d far rather heal men than fight them.”

The older man clapped him on the back.

“Good – no time to waste then – let me show you the hospital tent, and get you officially transferred to my company.”