скачать книгу бесплатно
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.
‘What is going on here? Miller? Who the devil are these people?’
‘Trespassers, Sir Oswald. They—’
The major interrupted him. ‘I am Coale, from Rooks Tower. If this is your man, then I’d be pleased if he’d unhand my young friend.’
‘Major Coale, aye, of course. Let the boy go, William.’
Reluctantly the man released his grip and Nicky tore himself free and ran over to Zelah, clutching at her skirts. Sir Oswald watched him, then looked at Zelah, giving her a rueful smile.
‘I beg your pardon if my bailiff frightened your boy, ma’am, but I have been having a great deal of trouble from the village children running in and out of the woods at all times, causing havoc.’
‘Mayhap they dispute your ownership of these woods,’ put in Dominic.
‘These are ignorant folk, Major. Just because they have been allowed to use the land in the past they think they have a right to it, but it ain’t so. I have to keep ‘em out.’
