A New Chapter

M y dear Lady Daisy,

Please forgive my tardy response to your letter. I had intended to make sure the Marquess of Bracknell and Mr. Niven King were invited to the dedication ceremony, but your welcome missive reminded me that time was of the essence.

I was glad of the opportunity to reunite with the two courageous men who accompanied me when I made my escape from the horrors of Waterloo.

Mr. Potts is manufacturing a second Anglesey leg for me—imagine having a prosthesis named after oneself—so I shall be in London when Lord Rowan is due to be fitted with his own mechanical device. I fully intend to be present on that occasion so I might advise him on the pros and cons of an artificial leg. Getting the hang of it is not as easy as it sounds.

I shall also remonstrate him if he hasn't yet come to his senses and begged you to be his wife.

I agree wholeheartedly with your remarks about the desperate plight of many of our wounded veterans and have already set in motion several initiatives which will hopefully remedy the situation. Unfortunately, the wheels of governmental change grind slowly, but we can only try to do what we can.

I remain,

Your sincerely,

Henry Paget, Marquess of Anglesey

Daisy re-read the letter she'd received several days prior. Today was the day Rowan would begin a new chapter in his life. She'd wanted to be there to support him but supposed a fellow amputee was a better option.

Unable to sleep, Rowan rose at dawn on the day Potts was scheduled to bring his leg at eleven o'clock. He rarely had the energy to get out of bed before ten in the morning but couldn't recall ever anticipating anything so eagerly before. Daisy had expressed a wish to be present when he first tried out the artificial limb, but he'd dissuaded her, coward that he was.

When Cosmo arrived, it was evident his summons had dragged the disheveled valet from his bed.

"At your service, my lord," Cosmo drawled, doing his best to stifle a yawn.

"Should I dress, do you think?" Rowan asked, immediately feeling foolish for asking such an inane question.

"I believe it would behoove your lordship to greet Mr. Potts fully clothed," his valet replied.

"Of course."

He wasted as much time as he could, insisting Cosmo bring him a different bar of soap for his bath, then rejecting one outfit after another until even the ever-patient valet clenched his jaw.

Rowan was glad he'd taken time to look presentable when the Marquess of Anglesey unexpectedly arrived with Potts.

He stared at the wooden leg Anglesey thrust into his hands. He didn't yet fully understand the reason for the marquess' presence though his mentor mumbled something about visiting London for talks with the Regent about being appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.

Rowan's decision to acquiesce to his father's request to attend the fitting for moral support had been a wise one. He and the marquess had known each other for years. His father wouldn't tolerate any bullying by the marquess.

"I warn you now, Halstead, the contraption you are holding won't be easy to get used to," Anglesey declared.

Anxious to get on with the fitting, Rowan could only nod.

"Yes, it will make life easier in some ways, but you will still be a man with one leg."

Irritated by Anglesey's patronizing tone, Rowan opened his mouth to retort that he fully realized the artificial leg could never replace his own leg. His father's clenched jaw betrayed his own annoyance. However, the marquess didn't give either of them a chance to reply. "Off with the trousers, then," he commanded.

Potts retrieved his invention as Cosmo sprang into action and assisted Rowan to remove his bedroom slipper and trousers .

"If you could be seated on the bed, my lord," Potts said softly. "And lay back slightly."

Supported by his elbows, and feeling rather exposed, Rowan held his breath as his stump was eased slowly into the top part of the leg.

"You'll find the chafing the worst torment," Anglesey advised as Potts took hold of Rowan's hands with a surprisingly strong grip.

Rowan had been naive to think the leg would enable him to walk upright almost immediately. Instead, he felt strangely off balance and sick with nervousness as he stood with Potts' help. Had too much time elapsed since the amputation for him to relearn how to walk properly? Perhaps he'd be better off keeping the crutch.

"You can do it, my son," his father said softly, jolting him back to the task at hand.

Of course he could. He was Rowan Halstead, hero of Waterloo, heir to a wealthy dukedom, husband-to-be of the most beautiful woman in the world. He took a step forward, lost his balance and fell into Cosmo's arms.