Chapter One ~April 8, 1808~
Ellen Aston, Viscountess Moreton, walked into St. Camillus Hospital for Wounded Veterans and took in a deep breath. The intense smell of human bodies, blood, and despair was tempered only slightly by an underlying waft of lemon and alcohol that were used as cleaning agents. Was it odd that Ellen could feel her shoulders relax? Was it disturbing that this was where she felt happiest, amongst the wounded?
This was her work and her passion. This was where she felt whole. She was needed and busy. There were no gossips whispering behind their fans while giving her strange looks from the corner of their eyes. There were no gentlemen to approach her and then suddenly turn and walk in the other direction.
There were men who had risked their lives for their country. T
