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‘Aye, she does.’ Reginald took a turn about the room, torn by indecision.
Nicky stirred and muttered something in his sleep.
‘Go home, Reginald. These fidgets will disturb Nicky.’
‘But this is a bachelor household.’
‘That is unfortunate, of course, but it cannot be helped.’ She dipped a cloth in the bowl of lavender water and gently wiped the boy’s brow. ‘If it is any comfort, Reginald, Major Coale has informed me—via his housekeeper—that he will not come into this wing of the house while we are here. Indeed, once he had seen Nicky safely into bed he disappeared, giving his housekeeper orders to supply us with everything necessary. I shall sleep in the anteroom here, so that I may be on hand should Nicky wake in the night, and I will take my meals here. So you see there can be no danger of impropriety.’
Reginald did not look completely reassured.
‘Would you like me to send over our maid?’
‘Unnecessary, and it would give offence to Mrs Graddon.’ Zelah smiled at him. ‘We shall go on very comfortably, believe me, if you will arrange for some clothes to be sent over for us. And perhaps you will come again tomorrow and bring some games for Nicky. Then we shall do very well.’
‘But it will not do! You are a gently bred young lady—’
‘I am soon to be a governess and must learn to deal with situations such as this.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘Trust me, Reginald. Nicky must stay here and I shall remain to look after him until he can be moved to West Barton. Now go and reassure Maria that all is well here.’
He took his leave at last and Zelah found herself alone in the sickroom for the first time. Nicky was still sleeping soundly, which she knew was a good thing, but it left her with little to do, except rearrange the room to her satisfaction.
Zelah took dinner in the room, but the soup the housekeeper brought up for Nicky remained untouched, for he showed no signs of waking.
‘Poor little lamb, sleep’s the best thing for him,’ said Mrs Graddon when she came to remove the dishes. ‘Tomorrow I shall make some lemon jelly, to tempt his appetite. I know he’s very fond of that.’
‘Oh?’ Zelah looked up. ‘Is my nephew in the habit of calling here?’
‘Aye, bless his heart. If he finds an injured animal or bird in the woods he often brings it here for the master to mend, and afore he goes he always comes down to the kitchens to find me.’
Zelah put her hands to her cheeks, mortified.
‘Oh dear, he really should not be bothering Major Coale with such things, or you.’
‘Lord love ‘ee, mistress, the boy ain’t doin’ no ‘arm,’ exclaimed Mrs Graddon. ‘In fact, I think ‘e does the master good.’ She paused, slanting a sidelong glance at Zelah. ‘You’ve probably noticed that the major shuns company, but that’s because o’ this.’ She rubbed her finger over her left temple. ‘Right across his chest, it goes, though thankfully it never touched his vital organs. Took a cut to his thigh, too, but the sawbones stitched him up before he ever came home, so his leg’s as good as new.’
‘But when he walks …’
The housekeeper tutted, smoothing down her apron.
‘He’s had the very finest doctors look at ‘im and they can find nothing wrong with his leg. They say ‘tis all in his head. For the master don’t always limp, as I’ve noticed, often and often.’ She sighed. ‘Before he went off to war and got that nasty scar he was a great one for society—him and his brother both. Twins they are and such handsome young men, they captured so many hearts I can’t tell you!’
‘You’ve known the family for a long time?’
‘Aye, miss, I started as a housemaid at Markham, that’s the family home, where the master’s brother, the viscount, now lives. Then when the master decided to set up his own house here, Graddon and I was only too pleased to come with him. But he don’t go into company, nor does he invite anyone here, and I can understand that. I’ve seen ‘em—when people meets the master, they look everywhere but at his face and that do hurt him, you see. But Master Nick, well, he treats the major no different from the rest.’
Zelah was silent. In her mind she was running over her meeting with Major Coale. Had she avoided looking at his terrible scarred face? She thought not, but when she had first seen him she believed he was attacking Nicky and she had been in no mood for polite evasions.
The housekeeper went off and Zelah settled down to keep watch upon her patient.
* * *
As the hours passed the house grew silent. She had a sudden yearning for company and was tempted to go down to the kitchen in the hope of meeting the housekeeper, or even a kitchen maid. She would do no such thing, of course, and was just wondering how she could occupy herself when there was a knock at the door. It was Mrs Graddon.
‘The major asked me to bring you these, since you likes reading.’ She held out a basket full of books. ‘He says to apologise, but they’s all he has at the moment, most of his books being still in the crates they arrived in, but he hopes you’ll find something here to suit.’
‘Thank you.’ Zelah took the basket and retreated to her chair by the fire, picking up the books one by one from the basket. Richardson, Smollett, Defoe, even Mrs Radcliffe. She smiled. If she could not amuse herself with these, then she did not deserve to be pleased. She was comforted by the major’s thoughtfulness. Feeling much less lonely, she settled down, surrounded by books.
It was after midnight when Nicky began to grow restless. Zelah was stretched out on the bed prepared for her when she heard him mutter. Immediately she was at his side, feeling his brow, trying to squeeze a little water through his parched lips. He batted aside her hand and turned his head away, muttering angrily. Zelah checked the bandages. They were still in place, but if he continued to toss and turn he might well open the wound and set it bleeding again.
She wished she had not refused Mrs Graddon’s offer to have a truckle bed made up in the room for a maid, but rather than wring her hands in an agony of regret she picked up her bedroom candle and set off to find some help.
Zelah had not ventured from the yellow bedroom since she had followed Nicky there earlier in the day. She retraced her steps back to the great hall, too anxious about her nephew to feel menaced by the flickering shadows that danced around her. There was a thin strip of light showing beneath one of the doors off the hall and she did not hesitate. She crossed to the door and knocked softly before entering.
She was in Major Coale’s study, and the man himself was sitting before the dying fire, reading by the light of a branched candelabra on the table beside him.
‘I beg your pardon, I need to find Mrs Graddon. It’s Nicky …’
He had put down his book and was out of the chair even as she spoke. He was not wearing his coat and the billowing shirt-sleeves made him look even bigger than she remembered.
‘What is wrong with him?’
‘He is feverish and I c-cannot hold him …’
‘Let me see.’ He added, observing her hesitation, ‘I have some knowledge of these matters.’
Zelah nodded, impatient to return to Nicky. They hurried upstairs, the major’s dragging leg causing his shoe to scuff at each step. It was no louder than a whisper, but it echoed through the darkness. Nicky’s fretful crying could be heard even as they entered the anteroom. Zelah flew to his side.
‘Hush now, Nicky. Keep still, love, or you will hurt your leg again.’
‘It hurts now! I want Mama!’
The major put a gentle hand on his forehead.
‘She is looking after your little brother, sir. You have your aunt and me to take care of you.’ He inspected the bottles ranged on the side table and quickly mixed a few drops of laudanum into a glass of water.
The calm, male voice had its effect. Nicky blinked and fixed his eyes on Zelah, who smiled at him.
‘You are a guest in the major’s house, Nicky.’
‘Oh.’ The little fingers curled around her hand. ‘And are you staying here too, Aunt Zelah?’
‘She is,’ said the major, ‘for as long as you need her. Now, sir, let me help you sit up a little and you must take your medicine.’
‘No, no, it hurts when I move.’
‘We will lift you very carefully,’ Zelah assured him.
‘I don’t want to …’
‘Come, sir, it is only a little drink and it will take the pain away.’
The major slipped an arm about the boy’s shoulders and held the glass to his lips. Nicky took a little sip and shuddered.
‘It is best taken in one go,’ the major advised him.
The little boy’s mouth twisted in distaste.
‘Did you take this when you were wounded?’
‘Gallons of it,’ said the major cheerfully. ‘Now, one, two, three.’ He ruthlessly tipped the mixture down the boy’s throat. Nicky swallowed, shuddered and his lip trembled. ‘There, it is done and you were very brave. Miss Pentewan will turn your pillows and you will soon feel much more comfortable.’
‘Will you stay, ‘til I go to sleep again?’
‘You have your aunt here.’
‘Please.’
Zelah responded with a nod to the major’s quick glance of enquiry.
‘Very well.’ He sat down at the side of the bed and took the little hand that reached out for him.
‘Would you like me to tell you a story?’ asked Zelah, but Nicky ignored her. He fixed his eyes upon the major.
‘Will you tell me how you got your scar?’
Zelah stopped breathing. She glanced at the major. He did not look to be offended.
‘I have told you that a dozen times. You cannot want to hear it again.’
‘Yes, I do, if you please, sir. All of it.’
‘Very well.’
He pulled his chair closer to the bed and Zelah drew back into the shadows.
‘New Year’s Day ‘09 and we were struggling through the mountains back towards Corunna, with the French hot on our heels. The weather was appalling. During the day the roads were rivers of mud and by night they were frozen solid. When we reached Cacabelos—’
‘You missed something,’ Nicky interrupted him. ‘The man with the pigtail.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Major Coale’s eyes softened in amusement. In the shadows Zelah smiled. She had read Nicky enough stories to know he expected the same tale, word for word, each time. The major continued. ‘One Highlander woke to find he couldn’t get up because his powdered pigtail was frozen to the ground. A couple of days later we reached the village of Cacabelos and the little stone bridge over the River Cua. Unfortunately discipline had become a problem during that long retreat to Corunna and General Edward Paget was obliged to make an example of those guilty of robbery. He was about to execute two of the men when he heard that the French were upon us. The general was extremely vexed at this, and after cursing roundly he turned to his men. “If I spare the lives of these men,” he said, “do I have your word of honour as soldiers that you will reform?” The men shouted “Yes!” and the convicted men were cut down.’
‘Huzza!’ Nicky gave a sleepy cheer.
Major Coale continued, his voice soft and low.
‘And just in time, for the enemy were already in sight. They were upon us in an instant, the French 15th Chasseurs and the 3rd Hussars, all thundering down to the bridge. All was confusion—our men could not withdraw because the way was blocked with fighting men and horses. Fortunately the chasseurs were in disarray and drew back to regroup, giving us time to get back across the bridge. We fixed bayonets and waited below the six guns of the horse artillery, which opened fire as the French charged again. The 52nd and the 95th delivered a furious crossfire on their flanks, killing two generals and I don’t know how many men, but still they came on and fell upon us.’
He paused, his brow darkening. Nicky stirred and the major drew a breath before going on.
‘I found myself caught between two chasseurs. I wounded one of them, but the other closed in. His sabre slashed down across my face and chest. I managed to unseat him and he crashed to the ground. He made another wild slash and caught my leg, but I had the satisfaction of knowing he was taken prisoner and his comrades were in full retreat before I lost consciousness.’
‘Don’t stop, sir. What happened then?’ Nicky’s eyes were beginning to close.
‘I was patched up and put on to a baggage wagon. Luckily I had no serious internal injuries, for I fear it would have been fatal to be so shaken and jarred as we continued to Villafranca. I remember very little after that until we reached England. Someone had sent word to Markham, and my brother came to collect me from Falmouth and take me home. There I received the best treatment available, but alas, even money cannot buy me a new face.’
He lapsed into silence. Nicky was at last in a deep sleep, his little hand still clasped in the major’s long lean fingers. Silence enveloped them. At length the major became aware of Zelah’s presence and turned to look at her. She realised then her cheeks were wet with tears.
‘I—I beg your pardon.’ Quickly she turned away, pulling out her handkerchief. ‘You have been most obliging, Major Coale, more than we had any right to expect.’ She wiped her eyes, trying to speak normally. ‘Nicky is sleeping now. We do not need to trouble you any longer.’
‘And what will you do?’
‘I shall sit with him …’
He shook his head.
‘You cannot sit up all night. I will watch over him for a few hours while you get some sleep.’
Zelah wavered. She was bone-weary, but she was loath to put herself even deeper in this man’s debt. He gave an exasperated sigh.
‘Go and lie down,’ he ordered her. ‘You will not be fit to look after the boy in the morning if you do not get some sleep.’
He was right. Zelah retired to the little anteroom. She did not undress, merely removed her shoes and stretched out on the bed, pulling a single blanket over her. Her last waking thought was that it would be impossible to sleep with Major Coale sitting in the next room.
Zelah was awoken by a cock crowing. It was light, but the sun had not yet risen. She stared at the unfamiliar surroundings, then, as memory returned, she slipped off the bed and crept into the next room. Nicky was still sleeping soundly and the major was slumped forwards over the bed, his shaggy dark head on his arms.
The fire had died and the morning air was very chill. Noiselessly Zelah crossed the room and knelt down by the hearth.
‘What are you doing?’
The major’s deep voice made her jump.
‘I am going to rescue the fire.’
‘Oh, no, you are not. I will send up a servant to see to that.’
He towered over her, hand outstretched. She allowed him to help her up, trying to ignore the tingle that shot through her at his touch. It frightened her. His presence filled the room, it was disturbing, suffocating, and she stepped away, searching for something to break the uneasy silence.
‘I—um—the story you told Nicky, about your wound. It was very … violent for a little boy. He seemed quite familiar with it.’
‘Yes. He asked me about my face the very first time he saw me and has wanted me to recount the story regularly ever since.’ He was watching the sleeping boy, the smile tugging at his lips just visible through the black beard. ‘I was working in the woods and he came up, offered to help me finish off the game pie Mrs Graddon had packed into my bag to sustain me through the day.’
‘You must have thought him very impertinent.’
‘Not at all. His honesty was very refreshing. Most people look away, embarrassed by my disfigurement.’
‘Oh, I beg your pardon. I hope you did not think that I—’
The smile turned into a grin.
