Beneath the Major's Scars (9 page)

‘It is a pity you did not rub something in this sooner,’ she
said, absorbed in her task, ‘but it is not too late. If you apply this
regularly, it will soften the skin and help the scarred tissue to stretch.’

She worked the ointment into his skin, moving over the
collarbone and down to his breast. A smattering of black hair curled around her
fingers as she stroked the finely toned muscle.

Zelah could not say exactly when the change in the atmosphere
occurred, but suddenly the air around her was charged with tension and she
realised just what a perilous situation she was in. Not merely the impropriety
of being alone with a man who was not her husband, but the dangerous sensations
within her own body. She concentrated on the skin that she was covering with
ointment, forcing herself to think of that small area of scarring and not the
whole body. Not the man. It was impossible. She should stop, move away, but she
could not. Of their own accord her fingers followed the scar across the solid
breastbone and on, down.

Dominic’s hand clamped over hers.

‘That will do.’ His voice was unsteady. ‘Perhaps I should
finish this myself. Later.’

Zelah blushed, consumed from head to toe with fiery
embarrassment.

‘I...um...’ She had to take a couple of breaths before she
could continue. ‘It is best applied every day, and directly after bathing.’

She tried to look up, but could only lift her eyes as far as
his mouth. The faint, upward curve of his lips was some comfort.

He released her hand. ‘You are far too innocent to be Delilah,
aren’t you?’

She dare not meet his eyes. Her cheeks were still burning. She
put the lid back on the jar and handed it to him.

‘It was never my wish to be such a woman.’

‘No, of course not. You are far too bookish.’ He pushed himself
off the desk and picked up his neckcloth. ‘I must go. I want to see Phillips
today about restocking the coverts.’

Zelah glanced towards the window as another shower of rain
pattered against the glass.

‘Should you not wait until the storm passes?’

‘Why? It will not harm me. In fact, I think I would welcome a
cold shower of rain!’

With a brief nod he strode out of the room and as his hasty
footsteps disappeared so the calm and silence settled over the library
again.

Zelah sat down at the desk and dropped her head on to her
hands. So she was ‘too bookish’ to be Delilah, the beautiful temptress. She
should be pleased that Dominic did not think of her in those terms, and she
was
pleased, wasn’t she?

With a sinking heart Zelah realised that she was just a little
disappointed.

* * *

Zelah’s working days had developed a regular pattern.
Major Coale would visit the library every morning to discuss the day’s tasks.
Whenever he was obliged to be out early he would leave her instructions and call
in to see her as soon as he had returned to Rooks Tower. Their meetings were
brief and businesslike, but Zelah looked forward to them and when, two weeks
later, the major left word that he was gone to Exeter and would not be back
until the following day, she was surprised at the depth of her
dissatisfaction.

* * *

The following day saw the delivery of the books from
Lydcombe Park. She was reluctant to spoil the space and tidiness of the library
and ordered some of the crates to be taken up to the tower room. Unpacking all
the new books and arranging for the empty crates to be taken away kept Zelah
occupied for most of the day. She was buttoning her pelisse when she heard a
familiar step approaching the library and she turned towards the door, her
spirits rising. Major Coale came in, his boots still muddy from the journey, and
she was unable to keep the smile of welcome from her face.

His first words were not encouraging. ‘What, Miss Pentewan,
going already? I heard that the books from Lydcombe Park had been delivered.
Surely that is a case for working longer.’

‘And so I would, sir, but I am walking to Lesserton today, to
collect Nicky from his lessons.’

‘Then I shall take you there in the curricle.’

‘But you have just this minute come in...’

‘From riding, madam, a very different exercise. You may show me
just what you have done with the books while we wait for my carriage.’

Unable to muster her arguments, Zelah consented and ten minutes
later she was sitting beside the major in his sleek, low-slung racing curricle
and marvelling at the smooth new road he had built. They had to slow their pace
when they joined the Lesserton road, but they still made good time and soon
reached the village. They were heading for the main street and, seeing how busy
it was, Zelah glanced at the major. He was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, tilted to
shadow the left side of his face, so that his scarred cheek and chin were barely
visible. She was pleased to note that the majority of the men touched their caps
and the women dropped a curtsy as they bowled past. Some children and one or two
of the adults stopped to stare, but she decided this was due to the unusual
sight of a fashionable carriage with a diminutive groom perched upon the rumble
seat.

‘Where shall I drop you?’ enquired the major.

‘Here, if you please. I am still a little early, so I shall
indulge myself by looking in the shops on Market Street before I collect Nicky.
You have no need to hand me out, I can easily jump down.’ She suited the action
to the words as the curricle drew to a stop and gave a friendly little wave as
Major Coale set his team in motion again.

* * *

The morning clouds had given way to a warm, sunny
afternoon and when Nicky came running out from the vicar’s rambling house she
persuaded him to take a detour before they made their way home. They were just
setting off when Nicky gave a delighted cry.

‘Major Coale!’

Zelah looked up to see the major approaching. She noted with no
little satisfaction that there was now only the faintest irregularity in his
purposeful stride.

‘Good day to you, Master Nicholas! How do you go on, how is
your leg?’

‘Much better now, Major. Zelah wants to see the bluebell woods,
so I am going to take her. Will you come with us?’

‘Nicky!’

Her admonition went unheeded. Nicky gazed hopefully at the
major, who replied gravely, ‘I would be delighted.’

Zelah shook her head vehemently. ‘No, no, I am sure you must
have more important things to do.’

‘As a matter of fact I don’t. Sawley noticed that one of the
horses has a shoe loose and he is now at the smithy, so I was coming to say if
you do not mind waiting a half-hour or so I would take you back to West
Barton.’

‘You would take us up in your curricle?’ demanded Nicky, his
eyes wide. ‘In your
racing
curricle?’

‘I only have the one, I’m afraid, but it is perfectly safe, as
your aunt will testify.’

‘That is very kind of you, I’m sure, Major Coale,’ said Zelah,
realising it would be cruel to withhold such a treat from Nicky. ‘However, there
is no need for you to accompany us on our walk.’

‘But Major Coale
wants
to come with
us, don’t you, sir?’

‘I do indeed.’

Zelah looked helplessly from one to the other. Major Coale held
out his arm to her.

‘Shall we proceed?’

There was no help for it. She laid her hand on the major’s
sleeve.

‘Maria told me about the woods,’ she explained as they followed
Nicky along the lane that led out of the village. ‘She said the bluebells are a
picture, but for only a short time each year. I do hope we won’t be too late, we
are well into May now.’

‘We shall soon find out.’

Nicky had scrambled over a stile and the major followed,
turning back to help Zelah.

‘Careful, there is a ditch on this side and it is a little
muddy.’

As Zelah stepped over he reached out and lifted her, putting
her down well away from the muddy puddle at the foot of the stile. A hot, fiery
blush spread through her, from her head right down to her toes. Whether it was
his hands on her waist, or the feeling of helplessness as he held her she did
not know and, what was worse, she instinctively gripped his arms, so that when
he had placed her on the ground he could not immediately release her, but stood
looking down at her with a smile lurking in his grey eyes.

‘Are you ready to go on, Miss Pentewan?’

She swallowed. So many new and shocking sensations were
coursing through her that she could not think. Her hands were still clutching at
his sleeves and, instead of letting go, she wanted to hold on even tighter. It
took all her willpower to release him and to step back.

‘Y-you startled me,’ she stammered. ‘I could quite easily have
climbed over by myself...’

‘I’m sure you could, but my way was much more pleasurable,
don’t you think?’

His self-possession annoyed her.

‘Are you trying to flirt with me, Major Coale?’

‘Do you know, I think I am.’ He laughed. ‘How strange. I used
to do it all the time before that damned chasseur tried to cut my face off. I
beg your pardon, it was unwittingly done.’

Disarmed by his response, her anger melted away and she
chuckled.

‘That has pricked the bubble of my self-esteem! What an
abominable thing to say.’

‘Not at all. It was, in a way, a compliment. I have not felt so
at ease in anyone’s company since I came back to England.’

‘Then I will take it as such, sir.’

She met his eyes, responding to the warm smile in his own and
forgetful of everything else until he looked away.

‘Nicky is almost out of sight. Shall we continue? Else I fear
he will abandon us and we will be left to wander these woods all night.’

Zelah moved on, ignoring his proffered arm. She was shocked to
realise just how much she would like to be wandering here all night with Major
Coale.

Nicky had stopped at a turn in the path to wait for them and as
they reached him Zelah gave a little gasp of pleasure. The woodland stretched
before them, the sun filtering through the lacy canopy of leaves onto the floor,
which was covered in a thick carpet of bluebells and wild garlic.

‘Oh, how beautiful!’ She sank down, putting out her hands to
brush the delicately nodding bluebells. ‘They are at the very peak of their
bloom. I think we should pick some for you to take back to your mama, Nicky—make
sure you pick them at the bottom of the stem, love.’

She began to collect the tallest flowers and within minutes had
a large bunch, then Nicky handed her his contribution.

‘Goodness, that was quick!’ She rested the delicate blooms more
securely on one arm and looked towards the major, who was still standing on the
path. ‘What do you think, Major, are they not beautiful?’ He did not respond,
merely stared at her across the dell. ‘Oh, I beg your pardon. Perhaps you are
wishing to turn back, it must be growing late.’

‘We don’t have to turn back,’ said Nicky. ‘The path curves
round by Prickett Wood and goes back to the village. It’s not far.’

The major cleared his throat.

‘Let us go on, then.’

Nicky ran on ahead, but when the major began to stride out
Zelah had to hurry to keep up with him.

‘I am sorry if we have delayed you, Major.’

‘It is not important.’

She frowned at his harsh tone, but said no more, concentrating
her energies on hurrying along beside him. They left the wood and found
themselves on a wide track running between the trees.

‘I remember this,’ declared Zelah. ‘The road leads into
Lesserton and the trees to our left lead into Prickett Wood, so you can be back
at the smithy very soon now, sir.’

He did not reply and she gave a mental shrug. The easy
camaraderie with which they had started out had gone and she tried to be glad
about it, for when Major Coale chose to be charming she found him very hard to
resist. She turned her attention to Nicky, running ahead of them, darting in and
out of the trees, fighting imaginary foes. He seemed much happier now that he
was spending some of his time at Mr Netherby’s school. He did not appear to miss
her company at all.

Nicky plunged into the undergrowth at the side of the road and
she waited for him to reappear, but he had not done so by the time they reached
the point where he had dashed off the path. She was about to remark upon this to
her companion when they heard a man shouting, as if in anger.

‘What the devil—?’

The major followed the narrow overgrown track into the wood and
Zelah went after him, a chill of anxiety running down her spine. They heard the
man’s voice again.

‘What in damnation do ye think you’re doing here? Trespassin’,
that’s what! I’ll give ’ee what for!’

‘Take your hands off the boy!’

The major barked out the command as they came into a small
clearing. Nicky was wriggling helplessly while a burly man in a brown jacket and
buckskins held his collar. The man had raised his fist but he did not strike,
instead he glared at them.

‘And who the devil might you be?’

‘Never mind that. Unhand the boy. Now.’

‘That I won’t. He’s trespassin’. This is Sir Oswald’s land and
no one’s allowed in here.’

‘The boy strayed a few yards off the path. He’s done no harm.’
The major’s cool authority had some effect. The man lowered his fist, but he
kept a tight grip on Nicky’s collar. He said stubbornly, ‘He’s still trespassin’
and so are you. I have me orders, thrash any brats that comes into the
wood—’

The major advanced. ‘Then you will have to thrash me
first.’

The man scowled, his harsh features becoming even more
brutish.

‘Aye, well, then that’s what I’ll do.’

‘No, please!’ Neither man heard Zelah’s cry.

There was another shout and a tall, thick-set man pushed
through the bushes towards them. He was carrying a shotgun, but Zelah was
relieved that he was not threatening anyone with it.