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Beneath the Major's Scars(14)

By:Sarah Mallory


He cleared his throat again. ‘Miss Pentewan, I have a proposal     for you.’





Chapter Four

Zelah closed her eyes, waiting for the world to stop spinning. After     a few deep breaths she opened her eyes, but could not bring herself to look up     into the major’s face. Instead she fixed her gaze on the rather poor landscape     painting on the wall.

‘A p-proposal, sir?’ Her voice was little more than a     croak.

‘Yes.’

She jumped up and went to the window, her hands on her burning     cheeks. What was she to say? Could this really be happening? She kept her back     to him as he began to speak again.

‘You have honoured me with your confidence and informed me that     you are seeking employment as a governess. I want to ask—that is, would you     consider a rather...different form of     employment?’

The heat and colour fled from her cheeks as swiftly as it had     come. She wheeled around, this time firmly fixing her eyes upon his face. Her     heart was still hammering but there was such a confusion of thoughts in her head     that she felt sick. She swallowed, hard.

‘Just what are you offering me, Major?’

He looked uncomfortable. She found herself praying.

Please do not let him say it. I cannot         bear to think he would even ask...

‘Miss Pentewan, you will know I am alone at Rooks Tower.’ Her     heart sank even lower. She clenched her hands together, closed her eyes and     prepared her answer even as he continued. ‘I have been struggling for some weeks     now but—madam, would you consider working as my archivist?’

‘Sir, thank you, but I could not possibly—what?’

He shrugged. ‘Archivist, librarian, I am not sure what title     you would use, but I need someone to put my books in order. Rooks Tower has a     large library and I intend to make use of it. I have had the room decorated, but     have done nothing about unpacking the books I brought with me from Markham. I     have collected a great number of volumes over the years and transported them all     here, but they are in no particular order. It is the devil of a job and with the     summer coming on I need to be supervising the work outside as much as possible.     I just haven’t the time...’

She blinked at him.

‘You...you want me to, to arrange your         books?’

‘Yes. Oh, I know it is not the type of work you were looking     for, but from our discussions I received the impression that you were intent     upon becoming a governess because that is the only respectable occupation     available to a young woman.’

‘Respectable, yes, and...I know nothing about organising a     library!’

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

‘You told me you knew nothing about children, but that has not     stopped you advertising yourself as a governess. I need someone to sort out all     those damn—dashed volumes.’

‘But surely you should employ a scholar to do this, someone who     understands the value of your collection—’

Again that grimace distorted his features.

‘I am not interested in its value, only that the books are     recorded in some sort of order and that they are on the shelves and to hand when     I want them. They are, in the main, useful books that I have collected.’ He took     a turn about the room. ‘Besides, I do not wish to have a stranger in my house.     No, madam, I want the library organised and all the books catalogued during the     next few months. I see no reason why you could not walk over there every day and     continue to live with your brother and sister.’

‘I—I am not sure...’

He waved an impatient hand.

‘You need fear no impropriety. Mrs Graddon and the housemaids     will be present and I spend most of my time out of doors. I am willing to pay     you a total of fifty guineas for the work: twenty-five when you begin, and the     rest once the library is complete. It should not take too long, two months,     perhaps three at the most.’

‘Then the remuneration you offer is far too generous.’

He shrugged. ‘I want it to be done, and soon. The cost is not     important.’

Zelah shook her head, trying to think clearly. In the space of     a few minutes her spirits had experienced ecstatic heights, deep despair and a     fury of indignation, and all for nothing. He was offering her nothing more or     less than a job of work.

The major picked up his hat.

‘Perhaps you would like to consider it. Talk it over with your     sister.’

‘No,’ she answered him quickly. ‘No, I have made my     decision.’

If she discussed this with Maria or Reginald they might well     try to dissuade her, but here was an opportunity to earn her keep, albeit for a     short time, and remain with her family. She squared her shoulders, raised her     head and met his gaze.

‘I accept your offer, Major Coale.’

For a long, breath-stopping moment his eyes searched her face,     then he smiled and she found herself responding, until he looked away from     her.

‘Thank you, that is excellent news,’ he said crisply. ‘I see no     reason for delay. Report to Rooks Tower on Monday morning!’



‘My dear sister, have you lost your wits?’

Zelah gazed up at her brother-in-law, a laugh hovering on her     lips. ‘Why should you think that? I have merely accepted a very lucrative     engagement.’

She had kept the news of the major’s proposal until they were     sitting together in the drawing room after dinner. She had hoped that a good     meal would put Reginald in a more mellow mood, but her announcement was still     met with a mixture of indignation and amazement.

‘You cannot accept,’ declared Maria. ‘It would be most     improper.’

‘But I have accepted and there will     be nothing improper about the arrangement. Major Coale has already informed me     that he spends his days out of doors.’

‘For an unmarried lady to be alone in his house—’

‘I shall not be alone, Reginald, I shall be surrounded by     servants. Besides, who will know of it?’

‘The whole of Lesserton by the end of the week,’ replied     Reginald drily.

‘But it is a job of work. I shall continue to advertise for a     position as a governess, but until then it will give me a measure of     independence, and if the task takes only three months then I should be able to     save a good proportion of my money against hard times.’ Zelah looked at her     sister, begging her to understand. ‘I have been here long enough, Maria. I told     you when I came I would not be your pensioner. Major Coale has promised to give     me half my fee in advance. I intend to give some of it to you, to pay Nicky’s     school fees.’

‘But there is no need of that, Reginald and I have already     agreed—’

‘To sell the seven-acre field, I know.’ Zelah interrupted her.     ‘I would much rather you took my money.’

‘Never,’ cried Maria, pulling out her handkerchief. ‘I would     not dream of taking your wages—’

Reginald held up his hand.

‘I think Zelah has a point,’ he said slowly. ‘To sell off the     field would mean less return at harvest. If we keep it, we may well be able to     repay your sister by the end of the year.’

Maria did not look convinced. She reached across and took     Zelah’s hands.

‘Oh, my dear, for any young lady to take such a position, in     the house of a man like Major Coale, would be to risk her reputation, but in     your case—’

‘In my case I have no reputation to risk.’

An uncomfortable silence followed Zelah’s bald statement. She     withdrew her hands from her sister’s grasp and rose.

‘I made up my mind when I left Cardinham that I would support     myself. I have caused my family enough sorrow and will not compound my guilt by     allowing you to keep me.’

‘But you might marry—’

‘You know I have set my mind against marriage.’

‘Oh, sister, pray do not say that—’

Reginald put up his hand to silence his wife’s protest.

‘My dear, Zelah is right,’ he said heavily. ‘Any man who formed     an attachment would have to be told of her...unfortunate past.’