Page 83 of The Moonstone Hero
The man introduced himself as the commanding officer in charge of the hospital, Major Crayapple.
“Are the soldiers in your wards carrying a contagion?” Ella asked, stepping forward.
“Yes,” the man responded, tossing her a smug look.
Ella, ever the lady, ignored his rudeness. “Then just tell us which are the quarantined wards and we shall keep away from them.”
“That isn’t possible. All our wards are contaminated. You may not enter any of them.”
“Do you mean to say you are keeping contagious soldiers in with the healthy men in the regular wards instead of putting them in quarantine? That is clearly in contravention of hospitalprocedure.” She then turned to the reporters, smiling as she recognized a friendly face. “Ah, Mr. Stafford—I hope you are making note of this deplorable lapse in the safety protocols for our soldiers. May I count on you to mention it in your daily reporting? And you did catch the commanding officer’s name, didn’t you? That’s Major Crayapple. C-R-A-”
Stafford burst out laughing. “Yes, Lady Ella. I have his name and shall make certain it is posted on the front page.”
Several other reporters assured her of the same.
Whether their editors would ever permit such a story to run in their papers was another matter, but the hospital commander got the message. “We do not violate protocols. There are no infected men in the common wards.”
“Glad to hear it,” Ella said. She and Imogen marched straight into the nearest ward.
“Now see here, Lord Mersey,” the weaselly commander said. “Your lady friends cannot traipse in here and disrupt our hospital routine.”
Caden had dealt with officious buffoons like him often enough during his tour. “Lady Ella and her sister have been volunteering at army hospitals for years. In fact, they are likely better trained, and certainly more compassionate, than most of your staff, so do not condescend to them. They have done more to help injured soldiers than this delegation of politicians standing beside us.” He turned to his grandfather. “Your Grace, utter a word against them and I shall toss you out of here on your arse.”
He probably should not have said that, but he was so tired of the duke attempting to manipulate every situation and undermine him at every turn.
“I’ll see that impudent little fortune hunter brought low,” his grandfather threatened.
“Fortune hunter?” Caden shook his head and laughed. “She is wealthier than me.”
He followed Ella and Imogen, concerned they had marched too far ahead of him and been left alone in a ward of Highlanders. But he need not have worried. The men were like lambs around the pair of them. He noticed Imogen and Ella had shed their cloaks and now wore the tartan shawls they had brought along with them.
What were they saying to these men?
“Oh, yes. We can dance a Highland fling,” Ella remarked in response to a question Caden had not heard, for the man who had asked it was lying flat in his cot and was too injured to speak up. “My sister and I shall show you.”
Ella took Imogen’s hand and positioned them in the center of the ward, making certain the badly injured soldier could see them.
One of the other soldiers took out a bagpipe. Blessed saints, how did he sneak that thing in here?
The shrill wheeze as he pumped air into it made everyone wince except for the Highlanders, Ella, and Imogen. The piper began to play a Scottish lilt. Within minutes, the men were clapping and stomping their feet—those who were able—while Ella and Imogen were gracefully leaping and twirling, clearly having mastered the intricate steps.
Where did they learn this dance?
Two of the reporters happened to be Scottish and were now misty-eyed as they clapped along.
Caden glanced at his grandfather, who had to be mad as a hornet now that his scheme to discredit Ella had failed.Ah, yes.His face was purple.
The officer in charge of the hospital began to push himself forward, but one of the beefy Highlanders realized what heintended to do and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. “Ye’re no’ going to interfere, Crabapple.”
“That is Major Crayapple to you,” he grumbled. “Let go of me, or I—”
“What? Report me to my superiors? What do ye think they’ll do to ye when they hear how ye deprived their soldiers of a taste of home? Not to mention yer rudeness to Lord Stockwell’s daughters or the affront to Lord Mersey.”
Crayapple looked like he wanted to hide under one of the cots.
Stafford sidled over to Caden. “If Lady Ella weren’t already taken, I would marry her myself. She surprises me at every turn, but I suppose you knew how special she was.”
Caden nodded. “Lord Harvey and Lord Eckleston are still licking their wounds. They are decent men, and I think they truly cared for her.”
