my lord,” the butler informed them.
“We’ll be there shortly.” Rhys rose and came to her, bringing Dalinda to her feet. “I suppose I will have to wait until after we eat to have my way with you, Countess.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to keep Dr. Robinson and his daughter waiting, would we?”
He escorted her to the small dining room. The physician and Miss Robinson ate with them every night and had proven to be good company. Twice, though, Rhys had Cook send their dinner straight to his rooms so they could dine privately. The food had barely been touched—and they had feasted upon one another instead.
Their company was already present and Dalinda greeted the pair. Once the soup course arrived, Dr. Robinson said, “I think we are ready to take you up on the offer of a cottage, my lord.”
“Are your rooms in the east wing unsatisfactory?” Rhys asked.
“Not at all,” Miss Robinson said. “I miss cooking, though. I did most of it before we came to Sheffield Park. It would also give Father and me a place to go home to, to separate work from relaxing a bit.”
“I can talk it over with Mr. Simpson and see what is available. I know you would prefer being closer to the main house and yet still maintain a bit of privacy,” Rhys told them.
“That would be ideal,” Dr. Robinson said. “I also wanted to broach the idea of a trip to London, my lord. With so many amputees returning from the war, there have been a few medical advances. Nothing for arms, of course, but some prosthetics are being made for men missing a leg, as Mr. Pimmel.”
“Do you know of anyone we might speak to about these prosthetics?” Dalinda asked.
“I do. A man called James Potts has designed one which fits above the knee. It is composed of a wooden shank and socket, with a steel knee joint and a flexible foot controlled by catgut tendons from knee to ankle. Its articulation is superior to previous prosthetics and is supposedly more aesthetically pleasing.”
“That is certainly intriguing, Dr. Robinson,” Rhys said. “Write to this Mr. Potts for an appointment. Both Lady Sheffington and I would like to accompany you to it. It’s a certainty General Shepherd will continue to send men to us with missing legs. Having knowledge of and purchasing these new prosthetics would be a godsend. The men could learn to walk again and become much more employable.”
“I concur,” the physician said. “I will write the letter of introduction and inquire when we might be able to visit with Mr. Potts. As for Pimmel, his attitude has been most positive despite my having to remove his limb. And Wharton, the man with the bullet in his thigh, is healing nicely. He’ll be able to keep his leg and will soon leave his crutches behind.”
“What about Garfield?” Dalinda asked, knowing the ex-soldier had no physical disabilities but was becoming increasing isolated from the other men, despite efforts to keep him involved with the others.
Dr. Robinson shook his head sadly. “Garfield is hard to reach. Physically, there is nothing wrong with him. It is his mind which has been damaged severely by the war. He sits and stares blankly for long periods of time. Chooses not to converse with most of the men. Rarely speaks to me or my daughter or Mrs. Nathan. I am beginning to think him a lost cause. Perhaps our next step might be to place him in a madhouse since he has no family to return to and no one else to care for him.”
Dalinda went cold inside, knowing what Anna had suffered at Gollingham Asylum. Yet she didn’t know what else could be done with Garfield. She didn’t want him to be a danger to himself or anyone else at Sheffield Park.
“Let’s try to work with him a bit longer before we take such an extreme measure,” Rhys advised. He turned to her. “Has Garfield worked with the horses or in the gardens?”
“He came with us two days ago to the stables but didn’t participate,” she revealed. “Mr. Morrison did his best to persuade Garfield to take part but he was having none of it. He went and found an empty stall and sat alone in it the entire afternoon.”
Rhys sighed. “Let’s give him another week before we discuss committing him. I would hate to see it come to that.”
Dalinda knew a madhouse wouldn’t be the answer for Garfield’s demons. Not with their harsh rules and