‘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
Life 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.’
‘And that was removed over fifty years ago,’ said Dominic slowly. ‘At least twenty years before this document was written.’
‘So there must be another marker stone, in the wood itself. Could we go and look? If we could find it—’
‘No. We must proceed cautiously. Evanshaw may well know about the marker. That may be why he has his men patrolling the wood, but they are more likely to shoot you than ask what you are doing there. We should take this document to Buckland. He will be able to verify it and then he can ask Sir Arthur to authorise a search.’ He carefully rolled up the manuscript and tied it with a ribbon. ‘Sally has taken my curricle, but I expect her back any time now. Once she is returned I will take you and this document to West Barton.’
Zelah frowned. ‘Could I not take it now? I could walk...’
‘Are you so keen to get this to your brother-in-law?’
‘Well, most likely he will not even be at home, but I will not rest until he has seen it.’
Dominic hesitated, then shook his head. ‘No. It is too hot for such exertion. I will take you in the curricle.’
His autocratic tone made her long to retort, but she closed her lips firmly together. Dominic saw her response and his mouth quirked upwards.
‘You must have patience, madam. Your family would berate me soundly if I allowed you to walk home in this heat.’
He was right, she knew it. She looked at the manuscript.
‘I suppose it would be foolish to set off yet. But after finding this I do not think I can sit down and work.’
She risked looking at him and immediately realised her mistake. Once he had captured her glance she could not look away. She was trapped. The smile in his eyes deepened. He lifted one hand and gently rubbed the backs of his fingers over her cheek.
‘There is one way to pass the time.’
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