Llanfairpwllgwyngyll

T he day after the banquet, Rowan awoke with a determination to stop feeling sorry for himself. When they'd first met, the marquess had shown grit and courage in the face of a horrendous loss. In the immediate aftermath of his amputation, he was able to make light of the catastrophe that had befallen him, whereas Rowan could still barely speak of his ordeal.

Of course, he reasoned, Anglesey was much older than he was, and his artificial leg allowed him to do things Rowan couldn't. A complete stranger might not even realize the marquess had one leg.

Rowan thirsted to get the marquess alone and pump him for information about the leg. However, the day's program was set. Firstly, this morning, an excursion to gogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, the village with the longest place name in the world, and the site of the proposed monument.

Rowan's expectations were low. There'd be well- meant commiserations about his injury followed by much back-slapping and praise of his sacrifice . Anglesey would hold forth ad nauseam about the glorious victory. Rowan almost wished he hadn't come, but he had to find out more about the mechanical leg. Plus, he still didn't know how he and Niven had ended up on the guest list. Most of the others were well-known politicians and military bigwigs. As a lowly major who'd attended the celebrations with a bagpiper who wasn't even a soldier, he felt distinctly out of place. It stood in sharp contrast to the stature he once held as the son and heir of a duke.

The weather was unseasonably chilly, as it had been all summer, but Niven thoroughly enjoyed the outing to gogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, though he tried without success to pronounce the name of the place. Even the shortened name of eluded him despite a local dignitary writing it down to make it easier. "I suppose some Highland names are difficult for folk who arena Scottish," he said, not wishing to admit he barely understood the Welsh people who greeted the marquess' party with great fanfare.

The view of the Menai Strait was magnificent. From the top of the proposed column it would be spectacular.

He was surprised many of the other guests knew of the role Niven himself had played at Waterloo as a piper with the Cameron Highlanders, though he suspected none knew he'd ended up in Flanders against his will thanks to Rowan and his brothers.

He was pleased to see the occasional smile on his brother-in-law's face, a welcome contrast to the increasingly deep frown Rowan had sported throughout yesterday's banquet.

Niven wished he could think of a way to get Rowan alone with the marquess for a chat about the artificial leg. It might also be a chance to find out how they'd come to be invited when they were clearly the odd-men-out in a crowd of influential men.

His hopes were rekindled when the marquess took him aside as everyone was boarding return carriages to Plas Newyyd, and whispered, "Fetch Halstead to my study before dinner this evening."

Unreasonably irritated Anglesey's invitation had first been given to Niven, Rowan's fragile hopes nevertheless gained strength as he entered the spacious study. He and Niven sat in the well-upholstered chairs the marquess indicated.

"Did you know several members of my close family lost limbs in the service of the United Kingdom during the Napoleonic Wars?" Anglesey asked as he offered cigars. "My brother, Major-General Sir Edward Paget, lost his right arm in the crossing of the Douro during the Second Battle of Porto in 1809."

"I wasn't aware of that," Rowan confessed, declining the offer of a cigar .

"My daughter lost a hand tending her husband on a battlefield in Spain, so I was no stranger to amputation when this happened to me.

"People think I am nonchalant and devil-may-care about the amputation. As a matter of fact, losing my leg was very nearly the end of my life. I don't need to describe to you, Halstead, the conditions under which our surgeons operated. There were no drugs to dull the pain. My surgery took place on a kitchen table with men holding me in place in case I couldn't bear the pain. They took off your leg on the field of battle. Despite the operation being declared a success, I experienced long bouts of pain from the stump which took months to heal completely."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Rowan could only nod his agreement. Anglesey had suffered the same torment as he, but handled it far better. He and Niven gaped when the marquess unexpectedly rolled up his trouser leg to reveal the mechanical leg. "Invented by a man name James Potts of Chelsea. I'll provide his direction."

"I'd be grateful," Rowan replied hoarsely. The genius who'd fashioned the remarkably lifelike limb lived in London, a stone's throw from his own townhouse, for goodness sake.

"My leg is truly a feat of engineering. It's made of fruitwood and the individual pieces were carefully carved to match my exact vital statistics."

"Looks like a real leg," Niven declared.

"Yes, but what makes it really special is that it can move, not like the peg legs some soldiers have. It has a hinge at the knee and tendons to allow it to bend and flex."

Rowan watched in fascinated envy as the marquess demonstrated.

"It also flexes at the ankle to avoid the foot catching on rough, cobblestoned streets.

"You and I have the wealth to afford such a contraption, Halstead. There are hundreds of war amputees begging in the streets of our great country. But surely Lady Daisy has told you all about their plight."

Niven chuckled inwardly. His wife's intuition had been correct. Daisy was responsible for their presence in Wales. However, judging by the gobsmacked expression on Rowan's face, he'd obviously never considered it might be Daisy's hand behind the invitation.

Anglesey talked on about the special stirrup he'd had designed that allowed his new limb to lock in place, thus enabling him to ride.

Resembling a volcano on the verge of erupting, Rowan finally interrupted their host. "Lady Daisy Hawkins?" he croaked.

"Yes," the marquess replied, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "You do know she volunteers her time at a shelter for homeless amputees?"

Rowan gaped.

"I understand you were once engaged to her," Anglesey said. "You're a fool to let such a compassionate woman go. "

Rowan's face reddened. "I…er…"

"I understand," the marquess declared. "You're worried about the bedchamber. No need. If Lady Daisy is anything like my wife, she'll be more interested in a different part of your anatomy. I assume your rod still performs adequately."

Rowan's face turned such a deep shade of red, Niven couldn't help himself. He laughed out loud.