Ian stepped in to give his own orders. “And have Hiddleston summon the nearest doctor at once.”
Tess cast him a grateful look before returning to Crutchley and kneeling beside him once more. “Ned? Will you come with me, please?”
His bleary eyes opened. “Where?”
“To bed. You need to eat and rest.”
He searched her face for a long moment. Then evidently trusting her, he nodded wordlessly.
When she made to help him rise, another footman, Fletcher, stepped forward to assist her. Wrapping the quilt around Ned’s bony shoulders, Tess urged him toward the door, meeting Ian’s gaze as she passed. She was clearly upset, yet there was no sign of distress or anger in her voice—indeed, nothing but gentle comfort—when she explained to Crutchley where they were taking him.
They led him downstairs to the kitchens where the Hiddlestons awaited. Directed to a small room nearby where a cot stood piled high with blankets, Tess had her patient tucked into bed in short order.
After dismissing the servants for privacy, she perched on a stool beside Ned and applied a cool damp cloth to his fevered brow. Ian let her have her way, but ordered Fletcher to remain close by in the corridor. Ian himself stayed in the room to watch and guard her in the event the former soldier turned violent.
Ned’s tremors eventually ceased, though, and Tess began asking easy questions as she spoon-fed him a bowl of warm chicken broth.
“Can you tell me where you live, Ned?”
“I ’ave no ’ome now.”
Tess paused, obviously struggling to hide her dismay. “Then where do you sleep?”
He frowned as if trying to remember. “Sometimes a cave.”
“The cave below Falwell Castle?”
“Nay … over to Fowey way.”
She carried the spoon to his lips once more. “The village where you lived with your daughter? That is over two miles from here, is it not?”
“Aye, Mum.”
“Then what brought you here to Falwell?”
When he shifted uneasily beneath the blankets, Tess gave him one of her gentlest smiles. “I will not be angry, Ned. I am merely curious to learn how you ended up in the secret passageway behind my bedchamber wall.”
At his shamed silence, Tess prodded. “You entered my bedchamber the other night, did you not? You touched my face while I slept.”
He lowered his gaze. “Aye, ye were so beautiful … I thought … you reminded me of Sal … me daughter. Sal is with the angels now.” His expression turned contrite as he glanced up again. “I ’umbly beg yer pardon, Mum.”
Her voice softened even further. “I forgive you, Ned. Indeed, I am flattered.” Her questions ceased for a few minutes while she fed him. “There now, you have finished all the broth. Do you think you could eat a bit of bread and cheese?”
When his pained eyes sparked with eagerness, Tess set aside the empty bowl and broke up the food into small pieces on the plate. While Ned ate her offerings, she gradually coaxed him into explaining why he had pretended to be the castle ghost. Her patient warmth not only soothed him, he seemed to recognize her desire to help. Ian quelled his own impatience since her methods seemed to be bearing fruit.
“Were you the one to rattle the chains all those times, Ned?” Tess asked casually.
“Aye, I was … but I dint cause the voices.”
“What voices?”
“The ones I ’eard. There are real ghosts in those towers, make no mistake.”
Tess took her time replying, evidently not wanting to disillusion Ned, even though he’d very likely been hallucinating about corporeal spirits. “How did you manage to rattle the chains? That sounded very ghostly to me.”
“Sometimes I climbed onto the roof and banged the chains ag’in the chimneys. And sometimes I ’id in the secret passages.”
“But why?”