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they had called. Bella was too polite to point out that the good vicar and his wife had not called upon the Tichley household since Mama had died years ago.
    Bella served them tea in the sitting room, and no matter how they hinted at their desire to look at the man, Bella politely kept them at bay.
    Keeping a smile fixed to her lips, Bella showed them to the door when they had finally, yet reluctantly, taken their leave. Upon closing the door, Bella paused to examine the new emotions she was experiencing. To her surprise she found that she felt quite protective of her patient and did not want the entire village to come gawk at him as if he were a five-legged calf.
    Some of the local ladies even went so far as to bring savory dishes to the house, hoping their gifts would gain them entrance into Bella’s room to have a look at the mystery man. Though Papa and Tommy were no end pleased with the offerings, Bella was steadfast in her polite but firm refusal to allow anyone admittance.
    Periodically, to Bella’s immense relief, the patient would occasionally awaken. When he did he seemed unaware of his surroundings, but Bella was able to get him to drink a little broth. He then would fall back into what Bella hoped was a healing sleep.
    The hours would pass, and Bella found she was catching up on her darning and sewing as she kept vigil next to the bed. She sometimes stopped to sponge the man’s chest and lean, angular face with cool water, hoping to prevent fever from taking hold of him. He looked so helpless and vulnerable with his long dark lashes lying so boyishly against his cheeks. She prayed constantly that he would recover quickly.
    Occasionally she was forced to leave his side, as was the case on the third day. Because the afternoon promised to be unexpectedly fine, she and Mrs. Ash decided to washall the bedclothes and hang them out on a line in the side garden that faced south. After a little while, as they set about their chores in companionable silence, Bella found it good to be outside on such a clear, crisp day. She was not one to like staying indoors for too long.
    The two women had almost finished the arduous task when Bella heard a noise and turned to see her uncle riding up the path on his dappled gray mare. Straightening up from the laundry basket, Bella waved to him before wiping her chore-reddened hands on her apron.
    After dismounting, Uncle David tethered his mount to a snarled old oak tree and stepped through the garden gate to greet his niece.
    “Any news?” she questioned as he drew near. They both knew to what she was referring.
    Pressing his lips together, the earl shook his head. “Nothing from Mabry Green or Hareton. I have just instructed my men to go farther afield. It’s dammed odd, Bella; it’s as if the bloke dropped here from the moon.”
    Bella smiled at her uncle’s imaginative description as she helped Mrs. Ash peg a pillow cover to the line.
    “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before we find out who he is, Uncle. Surely somebody is looking for him.”
    “Let me finish the wash, Miss Bella. You and Lord Penninghurst go in and have a spot of tea,” Mrs. Ash offered, making shooing motions toward the house.
    Bella smiled gratefully to the older woman and led her uncle to the side door, through the kitchen, and into the sitting room.
    “How is our mysterious stranger?” the earl asked as he followed her into the house.
    “He is about the same. I am grateful he is not worse,” Bella replied, her concern for the man evident in her dark blue eyes.
    “Yes, indeed,” her uncle agreed. “And where might my brother be today?” Uncle David questioned as he settled himself comfortably in the chair by the window.
    “Papa rose very early today,” she began as she gathered the tea things from the large mahogany sideboard by the dining table, “and rode all the way to Horely. He heard a rumor that someone dug up a Roman coin in their garden.”
    “That’s enough to make my