Home>>read Beneath the Major's Scars free online

Beneath the Major's Scars(16)

By:Sarah Mallory


‘But one day—’

‘It is not my intention to invite anyone here. Ever.’

She felt the last word was added for her benefit. It was     uttered with such finality that it gave her pause, but not for long.

‘Is... Would that be because of...?’ She touched her own cheek     and saw him flinch. He turned slightly, presenting his undamaged side to her,     his profile reminding her of how dangerously attractive he must once have     been.

‘I did not move to Rooks Tower to be sociable,’ he said curtly.     ‘My years as a soldier have left me impatient of society. Its values and petty     tyrannies disgust me.’

‘But you have family and friends, sir. Surely you will not cut     yourself off from them so completely?’

‘Damn you, madam, we are not here to discuss how I choose to     run my life!’

Zelah recoiled from his angry retort. She bit her lip against     further argument, but was not daunted enough to forget her original idea.

‘I beg your pardon, Major. Of course it is no business of mine.     But I would like to make use of this room, if you will allow me.’ She waited for     a moment, then added coaxingly, ‘I promise I will not let the view distract me     from my work.’

His brow cleared.

‘The view is even better from the roof, especially on a fine     day like this.’

She waited expectantly. His hard eyes glinted and she knew he     had read her mind.

‘Would you like to see it?’



Zelah followed him out to the landing and on to the     spiral stair. It was only just wide enough for one person and she was obliged to     hold up her skirts as she climbed the steep steps. A series of tiny windows sent     shafts of dazzling sunlight across her path, making it difficult to see the next     step.

When they reached the top he threw open the door and the light     flooded in.

‘Do you not keep it locked?’

‘No need. My servants never come up here.’ He turned and     reached down for her. ‘Give me your hand. There is no handrail and these last     few stairs are uneven.’

His fingers curled around her hand, warm and secure as he     guided her up the final steps to the roof. She found herself on a flat roof,     paved over with stone slabs and surrounded by a crenellated parapet.

‘Oh,’ she breathed. ‘I feel I am on top of the world.’

She became aware that the major was still holding her hand and     looked up at him warily. Immediately he released her. She gazed out across the     hills, her hands clutched against her breastbone.

‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’ He stood beside her, the rough wool of     his jacket rubbing against her bare arm. ‘Do not go too near the edge and do not     lean against the battlements,’ he warned her. ‘The stonework is in poor     condition.’

‘But you will repair it, won’t you, Major? I cannot bear to     think that this view would be lost.’ She swung round and peeped up at him,     trying and failing to suppress a smile. ‘Even though you are adamant you will     not be having any guests here.’

The answering gleam in his eyes made her own smile grow and she     gazed up at him quite unselfconsciously, thinking how much better he looked when     he was not scowling at everyone and everything. In fact, she did not even notice     his scarred face when he looked at her in just that way.

The playful breeze tugged a lock of hair free from her sensible     topknot and whipped it across her face. She was going to sweep it away, but     Dominic’s hand came up first and his fingers caught the errant curl.

Zelah held her breath. Their eyes were still locked, and     instead of removing his hand after tucking the curl behind her ear, he allowed     it to slip to her neck while he ran his thumb lightly along her jaw. Her heart     began to pound against her ribs and she kept her hands clenched across her     breast as if to prevent it breaking free. Her mouth dried. There was an almost     forgotten ache curling inside her. Anxiety? Excitement?

With his hand on her neck he held her as surely as if she was     in chains. She could not move. Indeed, she did not want to move, she wanted him     to lower his head and kiss her. She wanted to feel his hands undressing her,     exploring her body.

Oh dear heaven, where had such wanton ideas come from?

Something of her thoughts flickered in her eyes and immediately     he released her. Zelah switched her gaze to the view, trying to recall what they     were saying. Ah, yes. She had been teasing him. Well, that was clearly a very     dangerous thing to do.

The major cleared his throat. ‘If you have seen enough, perhaps     we should go back downstairs.’

‘Yes.’ She was anxious to get away from his disturbing     presence. ‘Yes, of course.’

She went carefully down the steep spiral, one hand on the wall.     Her legs were shaking and she was very conscious of Major Coale following her     down. When they reached the landing she hurried on to the wooden stairs, halting     only when she heard the major’s voice behind her.

‘I have to collect my hat and whip. Feel free to make use of     the room if you wish, Miss Pentewan. I have no objection.’

‘Thank you.’ She forced the words out and glanced back at him.     He was standing once again in the doorway, blocking the light and enveloping her     in his shadow. Binding her to him by some force beyond her comprehension.

Zelah gave herself a mental shake. Fanciful nonsense. She must     not give in to it. She nodded, trying to sound businesslike. ‘If there is     nothing else, sir, I shall go home now.’

‘No, nothing.’

Dominic watched her hasten away. Her hand looked unsteady on     the banister, but she descended the stairs without mishap and disappeared from     sight.

He exhaled, his breath hissing through his clenched teeth. He     had not meant to frighten her, but when they were up on the roof and she stood     before him, her eyes shining with excitement, he had felt the desire slam     through him. He should have known better. He could have moved away, turned his     back on her, but the craving to touch her was so strong that he had given in to     it. Even now he could feel her skin beneath his thumb, soft as a flower petal.     And she had not moved away. Petrified, he thought sourly, for an instant later     he had seen the horror in her face.

What if he had frightened her so much that she did not return     tomorrow? Perhaps that would be for the best. She unsettled him, with her     teasing and her challenging questions. He squared his shoulders. He was a     soldier. He would not be beaten by this slip of a girl! They had an agreement     and he would not be the one to break it. Let her     come to Rooks Tower and organise his library. But perhaps it would be wise if he     kept out of her way.



The walk back to West Barton did much to calm Zelah’s     disordered nerves. She had allowed herself to relax in Major Coale’s company.     After all, one did not tease a gentleman, unless he was a relative, or a very     close friend. Certainly one did not tease an employer. She must be more careful.     No one knew better than she the consequences of becoming too familiar with a     gentleman!



Each evening at dinner Maria and Reginald asked Zelah     about her day at Rooks Tower. They were naturally interested in her progress,     but even more concerned about the behaviour of her employer. Each time Zelah was     able to reply with complete sincerity that she had not seen Major Coale. For the     first few days after the incident on the tower roof she was relieved that they     did not meet, but gradually his elusiveness began to frustrate her. She had many     questions to ask him and was obliged to leave notes, asking where he wanted     certain books and how he would like them arranged. His answer, via the butler or     Mrs Graddon, was always the same, ‘The master says to do as you think best and     he will discuss it with you later.’

It was nearly two weeks before she saw Major Coale again. By     that time she had removed all the books from their crates and was working on     making a record of every title, bringing small piles of books to the large     mahogany desk to list in one of the ledgers provided.