Beneath the Major's Scars

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Beneath the Major's Scars Page 14

by Sarah Mallory


  ‘Maria, you know that is impossible.’

  ‘Not so,’ said Maria stoutly. ‘You have many qualities that an honest man would look for in a wife—’

  ‘Not if he knows of my past. Would you have me deceive an honest man?’ Zelah bit her lip and fixed her eyes upon her sister’s dismayed countenance. She said gently, ‘I should not be attending this ball at all. I am a fallen woman, Maria. If anyone should discover that—’

  ‘They won’t. No one outside Cardinham knows what happened to you—why, even Reginald and I don’t know the whole!’

  No, thought Zelah, sadly, she had never told anyone about the man who had stolen her heart and her virtue. She thought back to that halcyon summer. She had been in love and thought herself loved in return. She stifled a sigh.

  ‘Well,’ she said brightly, ‘at least it will give me the opportunity to find out if anyone requires a governess.’

  * * *

  Two weeks before the ball, the major’s sister arrived. A handsome travelling carriage bowled up the drive and Zelah, watching from the tower room, saw a lady alight. She was elegantly attired in a travelling dress of olive green, her dark hair caught up under a stylish cap from which a number of curling ostrich feathers nodded in the breeze. Even as she shook out her skirts Dominic came striding out of the house and caught her up in his arms, swinging her around. Zelah turned back to her books. She had no right to feel jealous of the major’s lovely sister.

  Down on the drive, Dominic hugged his sister. ‘It is good to see you, Sal. How was your journey?’

  ‘Tiresome. If only all the roads on Exmoor were as good as this last mile!’ She pushed herself free of his arms and stood looking him over. ‘Hmm, a vast improvement, Dom, I would not have recognised you. The last time I saw you was at Markham and I thought then you bore a strong resemblance to a bear. And you are no longer limping.’

  He grinned. ‘The Exmoor air agrees with me. Come inside. We will drink a glass of wine while they take your baggage to your room.’ He kept his arm around her as he swept her inside.

  ‘So this is your new home.’ She gazed up at the impressive roof of the hall as they passed through. ‘A touch Gothic for you, Dom.’

  ‘This side of the house is the original, but do not despair, the bedrooms have every comfort, including new windows that do not rattle in the night. Later I will show you the salon and the library, more recent additions to the building.’

  ‘Ah, yes, the library. You wrote to tell me you had a home at last for all your books!’

  ‘Yes.’ He looked down to brush a speck of dust from his sleeve before continuing in a casual tone, ‘I have found a librarian to put them in order for me.’

  ‘Ah, good.’

  ‘A woman.’

  The choking sound from his sister made him smile inwardly, but his look was all innocent concern. Sally was not deceived.

  ‘The devil you have,’ she said rudely. ‘She is a beauty, I suppose.’

  ‘Not particularly. She is kin to the Bucklands and I took her on because she lives at West Barton, so I did not need to have her living here.’ His lips curved upward. ‘Actually, she has done an excellent job of creating order from the chaos that was the library. But that is not important—we have a ball to organise.’

  He pulled out the list of names Zelah had written out and handed it to Sally, who perused it carefully.

  ‘Well, you can add Jasper to the list. He will come, if he can. He is currently in town and waiting to see what changes Prinny will make now he is Regent.’

  Dominic nodded. It would be good to see his twin again. ‘What about Ben?’

  ‘My darling husband is in the Peninsula and the last I heard he was with the army at Albuerra.’

  Dom gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Ah, yes, our so-called victory. The losses were terrible, I hear.’

  ‘I know. It is very sad. I think Ben is safer as an intelligence officer.’

  He nodded, then said abruptly, ‘Do you worry about him?’

  ‘Of course.’ Sally’s smile softened and her eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look. ‘I cannot wait until he comes back again.’

  Something twisted deep in his gut and Dominic found himself wondering if any woman would ever have such a look for him.

  ‘You have finished your wine, Sal. Would you like more, or can I take you to meet my librarian? I fear if we wait until you have changed your gown she will have left.’

  ‘Take me to her,’ said Sally immediately. ‘I am agog to see the woman you will trust with your precious books.’

  Sally’s tone was light, but her interest in the unknown employee was very real. She followed him across the hall, not knowing what she would find. Some harpy, perhaps bent on securing a wealthy husband. Or an eccentric bluestocking. What she did not expect was a slender girl with sun-streaked brown hair and golden skin. She would be looked upon askance at Almack’s, where pale skin was so fashionable and even the odd freckle was frowned upon. Not a harpy, then. Her high-necked grey gown was plain to the point of severity and with her hair strained back into a knot at the nape of her neck, Sally thought the girl was doing her best not to attract any man’s attention.

  Observing Dominic’s constraint as he made the introduction, and Miss Pentewan’s faint blush, Sally was even more intrigued. She gave Zelah her most friendly smile.

  ‘Dominic tells me you are making excellent progress with his wretched books. Why he had to collect so many I really cannot think! I do hope you will be able to spare some time to help me organise this ball.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, if you wish it.’

  Her voice was soft, musical even and the smile lurking in her hazel eyes hinted at a mischievous sense of humour. A pleasant enough child, but nothing to attract her brother. When he had been on the town, his flirts had always been diamonds of the first water and even his mistresses—of whom she was supposed to know nothing—had been ripe beauties. What he saw in this unremarkable young woman she did not know.

  ‘You are free to give Mrs Hensley as much assistance as she needs,’ barked Dominic, as if impatient to be gone. ‘The library can wait until after the ball.’

  Sally inclined her head. ‘That is very kind of you, Dominic.’

  ‘Not at all. There is still a deal of work to be done out of doors and I shall not be able to give you as much attention as I would like.’

  ‘Ah, I see now. You are shuffling off your responsibilities, brother. Very well, Miss Pentewan, we shall begin tomorrow by looking at the lists you have drawn up and seeing how many have replied. But that will have to be in the afternoon. Tomorrow morning I want to be shown around the estate.’ She turned to Zelah. ‘Do you ride, Miss Pentewan?’

  ‘I was used to, but not any more. There are no mounts suitable for a lady at West Barton.’

  ‘Oh, if that is all then I will provide you with a mount. I brought two of my own hacks, because Dom warned me how bad the roads can be. Do you have a riding habit?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Then that is settled. We will go riding tomorrow, if the weather holds.’

  She paused, raising her brows at Zelah, who clasped her hands together, saying, ‘I am very grateful for the offer, but I am afraid I cannot ride out with you. I am a librarian—’

  ‘Hell and damnation,’ growled Dominic, ‘you will be whatever I pay you to be!’

  Zelah’s head went up.

  ‘I am no bondservant! If that is what you think, then I am sorry to disappoint you and we will part now.’

  Sally put up her hands. ‘Of course he does not think that, Miss Pentewan. Shame on you, Dominic, did you leave your manners behind when you moved here?’

  After a tense interlude he shook his head. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Pentewan,’ he ground out. ‘I would be much obliged if you would accompany my sister when she rides out tomorrow. Since I cannot go with her myself, I would feel happier knowing she did not go with only a groom for company.’

  There was a proud tilt to Zelah’s
chin and the stormy look was still in her eyes as she met Dominic’s fiery glare. So the drab little librarian had steel in her soul.

  Good for her, thought Sally appreciatively, but is she a match for Dominic?

  She waited silently and saw the anger fade from her brother’s eyes. His tone was quite cordial as he posed his next question.

  ‘Do you dislike riding, Miss Pentewan?’

  ‘On the contrary, but there is no place for it in my life now.’

  ‘Not even if it will assist me?’

  ‘Dominic, do not press her,’ Sally began, but he waved his hand and continued in a coaxing tone,

  ‘Come, are you so eager to finish working in my library that you cannot leave it for another day?’

  A soft blush suffused Zelah’s cheeks. ‘It—it is not that,’ she stammered. ‘I really do not think it is my place...’

  ‘My dear Miss Pentewan, I really would be most grateful for your company,’ said Sally. ‘I shall keep you away from your work for no more than two hours—three at the most. Do say you will come.’

  ‘I would enjoy it very much, ma’am, but I do not think it possible. I could not sit down in here in all my dirt, and to go home and change would severely curtail my day...’

  ‘Then take the whole day off, madam. I am not such an ogre that I will prevent you having any pleasure.’

  ‘There you are,’ said Sally triumphantly, ‘You are to take a day’s holiday, Miss Pentewan!’

  * * *

  ‘My dear, you will wear out the carpet!’

  Maria’s laughing protest halted Zelah as she paced up and down the morning room and she dropped into a chair, albeit one with a view of the drive.

  They were in the morning room at West Barton. Breakfast was finished, Zelah had donned her riding habit and was waiting for Sally Hensley to arrive. She could not deny she was looking forward to riding out. She had enjoyed riding her father’s hack at Cardinham and she had brought her riding habit with her to West Barton. However, Maria had explained to Zelah that she had sold her horse, for there would not be any opportunity for her to ride until little Reginald was older. What Zelah knew, although it remained unspoken, was that there was no money to spare for such a luxury. Zelah had resigned herself to the fact that she would never ride again, but now Major Coale’s delightful sister had not only invited her to ride, but was willing to provide a mount, too.

  Zelah had spent some little time wondering if she should have held fast and refused to go. But it had been far too tempting an offer and when Sally eventually arrived, and Zelah was at last mounted upon the spirited bay mare, she could not regret her decision. The mare tossed her head and snorted, playfully sidestepping across the drive while Zelah kept control with the lightest hold on the reins.

  ‘She is very lively, but you have her measure.’ Sally nodded approvingly as Zelah brought her mount alongside Sally’s glossy black horse.

  ‘She is delightful.’ Zelah laughed. ‘What is her name?’

  ‘Portia. After Shakespeare.’ Sally chuckled. ‘Dom and Jasper had taken me to see The Merchant of Venice as half of my birthday treat. Portia was the other half. She is a delightful ride and can cover miles without flagging, but then my husband bought Ebony for me.’ She leaned forwards and stroked her horse’s gleaming neck. ‘Poor Portia was ousted.’

  ‘I do not know how you can choose between them,’ commented Zelah as they rode out into the lane.

  ‘Ebony was a present from my darling Ben. When you have a much-loved husband you too will value any gift he gives you.’

  ‘I do not intend to marry. I am going to be a governess.’

  ‘Goodness. Wouldn’t you rather have a husband?’

  ‘No.’ Realising this bald answer might be a little rude, she added, ‘I would rather be independent than marry the wrong man.’

  ‘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.’

 

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