Beneath the Major's Scars (15 page)

‘Very true, but if you could marry
any
man
you wanted...?’

Zelah was silent. There was no possibility of her being able to
marry the man of her choice, so she would rather not think about it. She said
carefully, ‘It is all too easy to be deceived by a charming man.’ They followed
Sawley into a field and she took the opportunity to change the subject. ‘The
land is well drained here, shall we gallop the fidgets out of these horses?’

After racing across the open ground they settled down to follow
the groom as he pointed out to them the extent of the land belonging to Rooks
Tower. It was impossible for Zelah to keep up her reserve when Sally was so
naturally friendly. She could not, of course, agree that they should do away
with formality completely and while she was happy for Sally to use her first
name she was resolved never to call her companion anything other than Mrs
Hensley.

* * *

They had finished their tour with another gallop across
the moors and were about to turn back when a lone rider appeared in the
distance. Zelah’s heart skipped a beat. She instantly recognised the upright
rider on the huge grey horse.

‘Here is my brother now,’ declared Sally. She waved. ‘Just in
time to escort us home.’

The major spotted them and raised his hand. The grey mare broke
into a canter and very soon he had caught up with them. He did not smile in
response to Sally’s greeting and the downward turn of the left side of his mouth
was more pronounced than ever. Zelah regarded him anxiously.

‘Is anything the matter, Major?’

‘It’s Old Robin. They found his body in the Lightwater today.’
His voice, his whole manner, was terse.

‘Oh, good heavens!’

‘Who is this Robin?’ demanded Sally, her frowning glance moving
between them.

‘An old man from the village who spent most of his time living
wild in the woods. He earned a little money doing odd jobs for me or the other
landowners. There was nothing he didn’t know about this land. A useful
fellow.’

‘He will be sorely missed,’ added Zelah, thinking of Nicky.
‘Who found him?’

‘Buckland was out with Giles Grundy early this morning, trying
to prove that the Lightwater is the river referred to in the charter. They came
upon him just where the Lightwater enters Prickett Wood.’

She shuddered. ‘Poor man. How long...?’

He shook his head. ‘No one knows. I saw him outside the White
Hart on the night of the hearing. He was drunk, then. No one seems to have seen
him since that night.’

‘Perhaps that was it, then,’ suggested Sally. ‘He lost his
footing and slipped into the stream and drowned. How sad. Has he any
family?’

‘A sister. Buckland has gone to see her.’

‘Is there anything to be done?’

‘No. Buckland and Sir Arthur, the local magistrate, have
everything in hand. Let me escort you home.’

The little party was subdued as it cantered back across the
fields to Rooks Tower. When they reached the fork in the path which led to West
Barton, Zelah drew rein.

‘This is where I must leave you. My brother-in-law will send
someone over with the mare tomorrow, if you wish, or Sawley can come with me
now.’

‘I would not hear of you going home alone,’ said Sally.
‘Dominic shall accompany you.’

‘No, please,’ cried Zelah, alarmed. ‘There is no need for
that!’

‘It is the least he can do when you have given up your time for
me this morning. And we must do it again—I have enjoyed it so much. I know! We
will keep your riding habit at Rooks Tower, then when we want to go riding you
only have to change into it, and can go back to your work in the library
afterwards. What do you think, Dom?’

‘I think you are imposing upon Miss Pentewan’s good nature,
Sal.’

‘Nonsense. You enjoyed riding out with me, did you not,
Zelah?’

‘Very much, but—’

‘Then it is settled. Dom shall send the carriage over for you
in the morning, so that you can bring everything with you. Is that agreed?’

Overwhelmed, Zelah could only nod and earned a beaming smile
from Sally.

‘Good. That is settled. Now, see her home safely, Dominic. I
should come too, but I fear the journey yesterday tired me more than I first
thought.’

‘Very well,’ said Dominic. ‘Take Sawley with you, Sal. I will
see Miss Pentewan home.’

Once they had watched Sally and the groom cantering off towards
Rooks Tower, Zelah turned her horse towards West Barton, the major bringing the
big grey into line beside her. He said quietly,

‘You will have to explain to Nicky about Robin.’

‘I was thinking of that. Nicky has seen much less of Robin
since he has been attending classes with Mr Netherby, but he will still be
upset, I think.’

‘Would you like me to come with you?’

She looked up, surprised. ‘Th-that is very kind of you, Major,
but I think I can manage.’ She gave a little smile. ‘After all, I need to learn
to handle things like this, if I am to make a good governess.’

He gave an impatient huff. ‘You still hold by your absurd
plan?’

‘Of course.’ Zelah blinked. ‘Why not?’

‘You are attending the ball. It is not impossible that you will
meet some gentleman—’

‘Not you, too!’ she exclaimed bitterly. ‘I do not
want
to meet some gentleman. I can never marry.’

‘
Can
never marry?’ He jumped on the
word. ‘Is there some impediment then?’

Her hands jerked on the reins and Portia sidled nervously.

‘N-no, of course not,’ she stammered, aware that her cheeks
were hot and most likely very red. ‘I am merely determined to maintain my
independence. In fact...’ she put up her chin, suddenly remembering a letter
that had been delivered yesterday ‘...I have received an enquiry for a very good
situation as a governess. In Bath. I have to send references.’

‘Do not look to me for that.’ His tone made her frown and he
gave an exasperated sigh. ‘However good your work has been, you must be all
about in your head if you think any respectable family will consider you upon
my
recommendation.’

‘Then I shall find others to recommend me,’ she said stiffly.
‘I cannot afford to miss this opportunity.’

‘But you will still come to the ball.’

‘If you wish it, sir.’

‘Damnation, it has nothing to do with my wishes!’ he exclaimed
wrathfully. ‘I want you to come and dance. I want you to enjoy yourself. As you
did at the assembly.’

She turned an indignant glance upon Dominic. ‘You cannot order
me to enjoy myself!’

‘I can, and do.’

The glinting smile in his eyes set her heart bounding in her
chest as if desperate to break out. Her mouth was dry. Somehow she tore her eyes
away. Somehow she found the strength to speak. ‘Absurd, Major. What an arrogant
thing to say.’

When they reached West Barton he jumped down and ordered Cloud
to stand. He reached up and plucked Zelah from the saddle. For one dizzy moment
she was suspended in mid-air, then she slid down into his arms. Her eyes were
level with his mouth and she found herself wondering what it would be like to be
kissed by him, to have those firm lips gliding over her skin. Her body went hot
at the thought. She pushed away from him and thrust the reins into his hand.

‘I must go. Thank you for allowing me this holiday, Major
Coale. I shall work extra hard tomorrow, to make up for it. There is one final
crate of books from Lydcombe that I must unpack, ancient books that might be of
interest.’

She knew she was gabbling but she dare not stop, fearing a
silence between them. Looking anywhere but in his face, she gave a little nod,
picked up her skirts and ran into the house.

* * *

Since Reginald was still in Lesserton, Maria had not
heard of Robin’s death and Zelah passed on the few details she knew. Nicky had
been invited to spend the day with one of his school friends and when he
returned the news had already reached him. He had been sad, of course, but, as
Zelah had predicted, school and his new-found friends occupied so much of his
time that he had not seemed overly disturbed and when she peeped into his
bedroom before retiring for the night she was relieved to see that he was
sleeping peacefully.

Zelah envied Nicky’s slumber when she eventually lay down in
her own bed, for sleep eluded her. She had enjoyed her day, but riding out with
Sally Hensley only served to highlight what she was giving up. But what choice
was there? She could not marry any man unless he knew of her past, and what
honest man would want her then?

Tossing restlessly in her bed, she glanced towards the window.
There was no moonlight to disturb her sleep, but a star twinkled brightly and
she remembered just how she had felt all those years ago, dishonoured, betrayed,
her life in ruins. She had been fooled by one man—who was to say it couldn’t
happen twice? Gazing out at the distant star, Zelah renewed her vow never to put
herself in any man’s power.

Chapter Ten

L
ife at Rooks
Tower was very different with Sally Hensley in
residence. She carried Zelah off for long walks or to go riding with her and set
the household by the ears with her arrangements for the forthcoming ball.

‘We really must use the orangery, now it has been painted and
reglazed,’ mused Sally, as she toured the gardens with Zelah. ‘I will leave that
to you, my dear.’

‘We will need lamps, then. Perhaps a few coloured ones would
look pretty—I could paint some of the glass lanterns.’

‘You could? How clever you are, Zelah! We will move some of the
statues in there from the house, too, and you can arrange them. And that reminds
me,’ Sally continued. ‘We will need to use the tower room as a bedchamber.’

‘No!’ Zelah stopped, appalled. ‘Surely that is not necessary?
It—it is far removed from the rest of the accommodation.’

‘Well, I have thought and thought about it, but we have invited
so many cousins and uncles that even if we send the servants into Lesserton we
will be overflowing, and I need to keep a room spare for Jasper.’

‘But I moved all the clutter from the library up there when you
said we would need to open up the library,’ objected Zelah. ‘I can work up there
while all the guests are in residence without being in anyone’s way.’

Sally took her arm and urged her to walk on. ‘There is one
solution...’ she said thoughtfully.

‘Yes?’ Zelah looked at her eagerly.

‘We could use it as your bedroom. That would free up another
bedchamber.’

‘If that is all, we could make up a truckle bed for me in Maria
and Reginald’s suite.’

‘No, that will not do. I have already crammed in a bed for the
children’s nurse. It will have to be the tower room.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘Do
not look so downcast, Zelah. It will only be for the one night and you will not
object to being surrounded by your books and ledgers, I am sure.’

‘All this effort for one night,’ exclaimed Zelah. ‘I wish to
goodness I did not have to attend.’

‘Nonsense.’ Sally patted her arm. ‘It will be quite delightful.
Now let us go indoors and we will decide which of the marble statues we should
move to the orangery.’

* * *

With three days to go to the Rooks Tower ball it seemed
that the event was all anyone could talk about. Nicky was thrilled when he was
told they would all be staying at the house overnight and Maria spent hours
deciding which gown she would wear. Only Zelah refused to show any enthusiasm.
She declined a new gown, declaring that she would not waste her money on
something she would never wear again.

It was almost impossible to think of working when everywhere
was in such upheaval, but Zelah did her best. When she arrived at Rooks Tower
the following day she was informed that Mrs Hensley had gone into Lesserton and
would not be returning until dinnertime, so she hurried off to the tower room,
determined to catch up on some of her work. The room was far more cluttered than
when she had left it. The small writing desk and the remaining crate of books
still stood by the window, but the rest of the furniture had been moved up to
make room for an oak tester bed, one of several old beds Sally had discovered
dismantled and stored in the nether regions of the house. There were no fluted
footposts, no light-as-air draperies. The headboard and canopy were elaborately
carved and the two supporting posts were as thick as young trees. She was
thankful that the bed-hangings had long ago disappeared and when she peeped
beneath the scarlet-and-gold bedcover and cotton sheets, the mattress looked to
be quite new. Sally had thoughtfully provided a stepping stool and Zelah climbed
up on to the bed. She gazed out through the leaded windows and felt a little
frisson
of excitement at the thought of waking
up there and seeing the moors in the early morning light.

Another memory to be locked away.

Zelah slipped off the bed. She must not worry about the future.
Her work here was as yet unfinished.

Having windows on three sides made the tower room very light,
it also made it very warm with the June sun beating down. Zelah opened all the
windows before setting to work, listing another set of books in the ledger. She
was writing in details of the last volume when she heard a hasty step on the
wooden stairs. She smiled. It was Major Coale. There was no longer any
hesitation or unevenness in his step, but no one else moved about the house so
quickly, or entered any room with such a burst of energy. He came in now,
wearing boots and buckskins and the old jacket she had seen on him the first
time they had met, his restless presence filling every corner of the room.

‘So this is where you are hiding yourself.’

‘Not hiding, sir. The library has been prepared in readiness
for your guests’ arrival tomorrow. I can as easily work up here.’

‘The devil you can.’

She laughed.

‘It is true. I bring a few books up here, enter the details,
then return them to their place on the shelves. It takes a little longer, but it
means I am not in the way.’

‘Hmmph.’

He looked around the room, his eyes coming to rest upon the
bed.

‘Good God, where did that monstrosity come from?’

‘Mrs Hensley said it was in storage. Presumably left here by
the last owners.’

‘More likely abandoned by the builders! It is a relic of the
last century at least. It should have been thrown out.’

‘Fie, Major, if that had happened then I should have had
nothing to sleep on.’

‘You are sleeping here?’

‘Why, yes, sir. For the night of the ball. Did your sister not
tell you?’

‘No, she did not,’ he replied grimly. ‘It is out of the
question. It is too remote. There is no accommodation for a maid—’

‘I do not have a maid, sir.’

‘That is not the point. What was Sal thinking of to put you
here?’

‘Mrs Hensley needed one last room and if anyone had to have
this room I would much rather it was me.’ She waved her hand in the direction of
the desk. ‘For anyone else all this would have to be removed. Believe me, sir, I
shall be quite comfortable.’

‘As you wish.’ He shrugged, as if tired of the
conversation.

‘Did you want to talk to me, sir?’

‘Mmm? No, I just wanted to know where you were. I am going out.
There is a dead beech tree in the woods that needs felling and my sister has
seen fit to set all my best men to prettifying the grounds ready for this damned
ball.’

She said, hoping to mollify him, ‘
My
sister says it will be the most magnificent event in the county
this year.’

‘Is that supposed to please me?’

‘Yes, it is. Why else are you holding the ball?’

She waited for his answer, her head tilted on one side. His
eyes narrowed.

‘Another momentary aberration, Miss Pentewan. They are becoming
quite common since I met you!’

He swept out again and Zelah returned to her work.

* * *

Mrs Graddon brought her a glass of wine and a little
bread and ham at noon and while she enjoyed her solitary meal, Zelah considered
the final crate of books. She would empty it now and have Graddon take the box
away. That would be a little less clutter in the room.

She lifted out the books, three large volumes each in panelled
calf. Carefully she opened the first one and read the inscription. It was the
first volume of
Vitruvius Britannicus
. She had never
seen Lydcombe Park, but she had heard that it was a delightful Palladian
mansion. Its owner was quite likely to have taken the design from one of these
volumes. Sir Oswald would be quite sorry not to have them, if that was the case.
She picked up her duster and carefully ran it over the book before putting it to
one side and wiping down the next volume. The cloth snagged on something between
the pages. Fearful that she had damaged a loose page she carefully opened the
book.

* * *

‘Have you seen Major Coale? Is he back?’

Zelah asked the question of a startled footman as she hurried
across the great hall. The man stuttered out that he thought he had seen the
master crossing the lawn from the woods towards the stables some ten minutes
ago. The stables were situated in a block beyond the north-west corner of the
house, as far from the library as it was possible to be. With scarcely a pause
Zelah set off through the twisting passages to the back of the house, hoping
that her quarry did not enter by some other door unknown to her, or walk around
to the front entrance and miss her altogether.

Outside the sun was blazing down, and the heat was intense
after the shady corridors of the house, disastrous for a lady’s complexion, but
Zelah did not waste time going back for her bonnet. She set off towards the
stables, nearly running in her haste to find Dominic. As she rushed through the
arch into the yard she heard voices mixed with the creak of the pump handle and
the splash and gurgle of water. The sight that met her eyes made her stop in her
tracks, open-mouthed.

Dominic was bowed down with his head under the pump while one
of the stable lads worked the handle, drenching his head and shoulders with
clear, cold water. He straightened and shook himself like a dog, sending diamond
droplets of water flying in every direction. Zelah was unable to look away. He
was naked to the waist and she could plainly see the white line of the sabre
slash running from his left shoulder and across the dark shadow of hair on his
chest. But it was not the jagged scar that held her spellbound, after all she
had seen that before. It was the sight of his powerful torso, tanned from
working out of doors, the muscles flexing as he grabbed a cloth and began to dry
himself. She stared, taking in the broad shoulders, the flat stomach with its
tapering line of hair that disappeared into his breeches. A powerful ache tore
at her insides. Even the man who had taken her virginity had not roused such a
powerful physical longing.

Dominic stilled when he saw her, slowly lowering the cloth. He
resisted the temptation to hold the towel against his chest, covering the scar.
She continued to stare at him in silence. What the devil was she doing in the
yard? He threw the drying cloth at the grinning stable hand and barked out a
command which sent the lad scurrying away. The movement woke Zelah from her
trance and she blinked, a hot flush flooding her cheeks.

‘I—um—I came to find you.’

He spread his hands. ‘Well, here I am.’ Her confusion angered
him and he said roughly, ‘I am sorry if the sight of me disturbs you.’

He picked up his shirt and threw it over his head. His
shoulders were still damp and the soft linen stuck to his skin, but at least he
was covered.

‘No, no...’ She trailed off, then her flush deepened as the
meaning of his words hit her. ‘Oh heavens, please do not think I was upset by
the scar! I hardly noticed. That is, I was looking...’ Her eyes were still fixed
on his chest, but the look in them was not horror, or revulsion. It was
something he had not seen in a woman’s eyes for a long time. Desire. His heart
swelled and he stood a little taller. Drawing a deep breath, she started again.
‘I have found something—a paper—in the tower room. I think you should see
it.’

He picked up his discarded waistcoat and jacket and came
towards her.

‘Propriety would suggest I should dress first, but there seems
to be some urgency in your coming to find me.’

‘I
do
want you to see this as soon
as possible.’

His lips quirked. ‘Are you sure you can cope with my, er,
informal attire?’

She saw the glinting smile in his eyes and her chin went up. ‘I
am sure it is no concern to me!’

He laughed. ‘Perhaps not, but I will change, all the same. Give
me five minutes and I will follow you.’

She stood for a moment, uncertain how to respond to his
teasing. Then she picked up her skirts and swept ahead of him back to the
house.

* * *

Zelah went back to the tower room, wishing she could
lock the door against the major. She had been shocked by her reaction to seeing
his naked body. She had allowed herself to be carried away once before, but then
she had thought herself in love, and if she was honest she had been more anxious
to please her lover than herself. Their love-making had consisted of one
fumbling, disappointing night and the consequences for Zelah had been
disastrous. She had had no difficulty after that in eschewing all men and could
honestly say that she was content to lead a celibate life—until now.

She pressed her hands to her stomach. Her body felt strangely
light and out of balance. She looked around in a panic, her eyes alighting on
the huge bed. She could not see him here, in this room!

Zelah ran to the desk and was about to pick up the manuscript
and carry it to the library when she heard him coming up the stairs. It was too
late to remove, she must concentrate on her news. He was hardly through the door
before she began to speak.

‘I emptied the final crate from Lydcombe Park this morning. It
contained all three volumes of Campbell’s
Vitruvius
Britannicus
.’

‘Are you suggesting I should remodel Rooks Tower into a
Palladian mansion?’

She threw him a scornful glance but was grateful for his
tone—she could deal with his light banter.

‘It is what is inside the second volume that is important.’

Carefully she opened the book to display a single sheet of
parchment, covered with closely packed rows of bold, black handwriting.

‘It is a contract for the sale of Lydcombe Park.’ Zelah could
hardly keep the excitement out of her voice.

‘But not a recent one. It is dated 1779.’

‘I know, but it describes in detail the eastern boundary of the
park and look here—it says that the easternmost point of the boundary is marked
with a large stone in Prickett Wood. The charter that was produced at the
hearing mentioned a boundary stone and everyone thought it was the marker that
used to be on the lane running past the bluebell wood.’