But Michael was no longer listening. He halted at the base of the stairs, staring up at the gentleman descending toward us.
I pressed a hand to my abdomen, grateful my riding habit did not require a restrictive corset beneath it. I would have passed out by now, first from the gallop and then the mad dash across the front drive. I glanced up at the man we were in such a hurry to see to find his gaze already rested on me. His hair was shockingly white, particularly for a man I estimated to be no more than fifty. His frame was slight and thin, but straight as an arrow.
“Mr. Dalmay,” he said, interrupting whatever Michael had been asking him, “I’m not certain what the rush was, but perhaps you should allow Lady Darby to sit down. She appears a trifle winded.”
Michael glanced down at me and flushed. “Of course. Tea?”
Dr. Winslow smiled benignly as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Mrs. MacDougall has already promised me a cup.”
He nodded and laced my hand through the crook of his arm and led us toward the drawing room. Hearing their quick steps, I turned to look over my shoulder as Lord Damien and Miss Remmington entered the house. Gage paused to have a few words with them, likely discouraging them from joining us, before following us alone to the drawing room.
“Have we met?” I asked the physician as Michael handed me onto the pale blue and white damask settee before the tea table.
He tilted his head quizzically.
“How did you know my name?”
“Ah.” Dr. Winslow sank into the chair opposite. “Lord Dalmay has been telling me of you. But, of course, he didn’t speak of you as Lady Darby,” he added, glancing at Michael. “He was as informal as always, and he seemed to have trouble remembering you by your recent title, though he was aware of your marriage.”
“William has preferred first names since his release,” Michael explained. “Especially for those he knew before. And he has trouble retaining new information, such as your and my sister’s new title.”
“Then how . . . ?” I started to ask Dr. Winslow, and then stopped when I realized he was probably aware of my reputation. I dropped my gaze to the tea and began pouring.
When I looked up to hand him his cup, his eyes were kind. “Yes, I know who you are. But you’ll hear no condemnation from me.” He frowned into his tea. “I’ve seen too much of the world to pass judgment.”
I watched the man take a sip of the hot brew. “War?” I guessed.
He nodded.
I finished pouring Gage’s tea and was just adding his cream when he spoke up as if he’d been contemplating the matter.
“Isn’t it rather odd for a physician to take part in battle? I thought the army and the navy employed mostly surgeons.”
Dr. Winslow bobbed his head in acknowledgment as he leaned forward to set his cup down. “That they do. But I wasn’t there in the capacity of a physician, though my fellow officers often came to me with their problems rather than visit the sawbones.” He glanced at Michael. “In fact, I served alongside Lord Dalmay for a time.”
I sat up straighter at this admission.
“At Salamanca and such. Lord Dalmay’s regiment took part in some of the heaviest fighting of the war. And I could tell, long before he and his remaining men were shipped home, that he was suffering from what I call battle fatigue.”
“What do you mean?” Gage asked.
Dr. Winslow tapped the fingers of his right hand against the chair arm, as if deciding how much to tell us. “It starts with exhaustion, from too much marching and too many restless nights, and then the exertion of battle, some that last days on end. But it goes far beyond that.” He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words with care. “The sights and sounds and smells begin to prey on the mind. In the short term, extreme cases can lead to disconnection with one’s surroundings, indecisiveness, slow reaction times, and an inability to think straight—all of which can be deadly during combat.” He sighed heavily. “I saw soldiers who had charged across many a battlefield, bravely and without hesitation, suddenly stumble to a halt and glance around them in confusion, unable to accept where they were or what they should be doing.”