Love Finds Lord Davingdale by Anne Gallagher Page B

Earl
of Davingdale should make a somewhat presentable appearance, so he
washed his hands, and wiped the mud and muck from his face. The
foal had not come easy, but she had survived and was now standing
in clean straw with her mother, Iona. William would be pleased he
had another female to add to his stable. He looked down at his gory
boots, took the bucket of wash water, and dumped it over them,
erasing most of the morning’s work.
    The last few years hadn’t been easy with only
the minimal use of one arm, but Thomas loved his new profession.
Most had said he was a fool to work for a living instead of
investing his capital to become a part of Society again, but he’d
long ago stopped listening to what people said about him. His years
in the regiment hardened him to the censure of other’s
opinions.
    His military career had not been as
illustrious as William’s had, nor had he any of the support, like a
batman, two horses, and a rich duke for a father, but Thomas moved
steadily up the ranks, and when he was awarded captain’s bars for
meritorious service, he had reached his own little pinnacle of
success. Wanting nothing more than to survive the latest campaign
so he could resign, the shot that felled him came as a surprise.
William was the one who dragged him off the field and for that,
Thomas owed him his life.
    Less than a sennight later, tragedy struck
William in the form of several bullets to his leg, and the two men
spent many days in the hospital ward in fervent prayer hoping to
make it out alive. Infections were rampant, men were dying from the
inhospitable conditions more so than their wounds, and others were
losing limbs to the butcher of a surgeon. Thomas and William had to
find a way to endure intact.
    Upon his release from hospital, Thomas
immediately sold his commission and rented a small house, where he
brought William to recover away from the madness. A brief enquiry
in the tiny town, brought the only medical personnel he could find,
a midwife, a witch some said, but she brought William’s raging
fever down and the abscesses from his leg. Within a month, William
was ready to travel and they, along with their horses and William’s
man, made the long journey home.
    However, when they arrived on the shores of
England, Lieutenant-Colonel William Smith did not go home to the
bosom of his family or his hero’s welcome. Instead, he sold his
commission, retreated to his estate at Westerly, and began the hard
road of learning how to walk properly, and then ride again. He kept
Thomas by his side, for the two men shared a love of horses, and
William’s greatest desire had always been to raise thoroughbred
champions. William would have no other in the endeavor and asked
Thomas to be his equerry. Over the course of a year, both men made
strategic investments dealing in horseflesh, and Thomas, although
not quite as flush as his commanding officer, was solvent at
last.
    When William finally returned to London,
Thomas returned to Merrit Manor in St. John’s Wood. Most of his
money had gone to repair the crumbling stone and timber structure
where he and his great uncle, Harry, his only living relative,
resided. He led a sparse life, with nothing extra for extravagance.
It was all he could do to keep them in food once the repairs began
on the manor. The Davingdale title was virtually penniless. His
father had spent it all before he died, although Thomas never let
on how destitute he and Harry actually were. He had his pride.
    As part of their new venture, William kept
several mares for breeding, and because Westerly was so far away,
they both agreed Thomas would keep them in St. John’s Wood for
nominal rent. William paid for the oats and hay, while Thomas
worked them. They attended Tattersall’s regularly, and with his
conscientious eye and William’s money, they became known throughout
London as up and coming horse traders. William’s stables were
turning out beautiful creatures, and a handsome profit.