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Beneath the Major's Scars(17)

By:Sarah Mallory


It was a particularly sunny day and the room was uncomfortably     warm, so Zelah had removed the fine muslin scarf from her shoulders and tossed     it aside while she worked. She heard footsteps approaching and looked up,     expecting to see Graddon or one of the footmen bringing refreshments, and she     was taken by surprise when Major Coale strode in. He looked as if he had come     direct from the stables; his hat was tucked under his arm and in one hand he     carried his gloves and riding crop. His riding jacket hung open, displaying an     embroidered waistcoat that fitted across his broad chest as snugly as the tight     buckskins that covered his thighs. There was only the slightest drag on his     right leg and his step was firm, brisk. He exuded energy.

Nonplussed, Zelah reached for her scarf and quickly knotted it     across her shoulders as she rose and came around the desk to greet him.

His brows twitched together, the slight movement accentuating     the ragged scar and deepening the unsmiling look into something resembling a     scowl as they approached each other. Zelah tried not to feel intimidated.

‘Have you come to see how I progress?’ She summoned up a smile.     ‘The rooms looks much better without all the boxes, I think.’ She waved her hand     towards the bookshelves. ‘Of course, they are not yet in any great order, but     this way it is easier to see just what books we have.’ She became more natural     as she warmed to her theme. ‘I need you to tell me how you want them arranged.     Are you happy to have sermons and music ranked alongside books on ratcatching,     shoeing horses and draining bogs?’

She observed a definite glint of humour in his eyes, albeit     reluctant.

‘I doubt if that is how you would place them. I think the last     three should be grouped with estate management.’

‘And your novels, Major? I thought to put them on these     shelves, near your chair by the fire. They would be at hand then when you wish     to sit in here and read.’

‘That seems a good idea. You are not using the tower room?’

‘No, not at present.’

The room held unsettling memories of the feelings he had roused     in her. He tapped the riding crop against the palm of his hand as he glanced     around the room, his expression unreadable.

‘I came to tell you that you will soon have more books     arriving. A few months back I purchased the contents of Lydcombe Park Library.     The books have been in storage with my man of business since the sale. They are     in a number of large crates, too big for the pack ponies, but now the road is     finished they can be brought here by wagon, as soon as I can spare the men to     fetch them.’

‘Oh. Well then, it is a good thing I have not yet put     everything in order.’ She bent an enquiring gaze upon him. ‘Are these useful books, sir, or might we find more classical     texts in this consignment?’

‘I have no idea. I have never seen them.’

‘So we may well have more than one copy of some titles,     sir.’

‘If that is the case then I shall leave it to you to decide     which one to keep.’ His tone was cold, indifferent, and Zelah wondered if he was     perhaps displeased with her way of working. She was framing the question in her     mind when he reached out and flicked the edge of the muslin scarf. ‘If you     covered up your charms for my benefit then you were wasting your time, Miss     Pentewan. I have no interest in hired staff.’

His words hit Zelah with the shock of cold water. She was     rendered speechless, but thankfully she was not expected to respond. The major     turned on his heel and marched out.

Zelah retreated to the desk and sank down on the chair,     shaking. He had seen her put the scarf about her, was that the reason for his     brusque manner? Had he taken her action as an insult? She shook her head. It had     been a defensive gesture to cover her bare neck and shoulders, because she did     not want him to think she was flaunting herself. He had taken it as a personal     slight, as if she thought he had designs upon her virtue. She could have     laughed, if she had not been so angry. Slowly, with trembling hands, she began     to pack up. She would do no more today.





Chapter Five

Zelah set off across the grass, heading for     the woodland path that led directly to West Barton. She had not gone far before     she heard the major calling her name. She stopped and turned to see him striding     towards her.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Home.’ She waited for him to come up to her.

‘It is still early.’

She looked away from his hard, searching gaze.

‘I have done enough for today.’

‘You are angry with me.’

‘Yes.’

‘Because I accused you of covering your...charms?’

‘It was uncalled for, uncivil and unnecessary.’ She added more     quietly, ‘I thought you knew me better than that.’

He was her employer, he could dismiss her if he objected to her     comments, but she did not regret her words.

‘You are quite right. I was very rude. What can I do to make     amends?’

She did not hesitate.

‘I would like you to show a little more interest in your     library. I have no idea if you are happy with my work so far, if it meets with     your approval. You have not been near the library until today.’

‘On the contrary, I visit the library every evening.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes, Miss Pentewan. I am taking a close interest in your     progress, but I visited West Barton last week, to enquire after Nicky. Your     brother-in-law considers your employment at Rooks Tower nothing short of     scandalous. I thought by taking myself out of the house every day it would     mitigate the impropriety.’

‘Some would still consider it improper if you were to take     yourself out of the country while I am working for     you! It is unfortunate that my brother-in-law does not approve but he     understands my desire for independence. The fact that he has not thrown me out     of the house shows he is prepared to put up with my “scandalous” behaviour, even     if he cannot condone it.’ She had hoped he might smile at this, but when he did     not she added impatiently, ‘For heaven’s sake, you have some rare books in your     collection. Pine’s Horace, for example, and Hooke’s         Micrographia.’ She exhaled through clenched     teeth. ‘You have engaged me to work for you, Major, and I would much rather     discuss matters directly with you than be forever passing messages via Mrs     Graddon.’

At last his forbidding frown was lightened. There was a glimmer     of understanding in his hard eyes.

‘Very well, Miss Pentewan. I will make efforts to be available.     Starting tomorrow.’

‘Thank you. I will bid you good day, sir.’

‘You are still going?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then I will walk with you.’ One side of his mouth quirked at     her look of surprise. ‘I know what you are thinking: I am now taking too great     an interest in my hired staff. You would like to throw my earlier comments in my     face.’

‘I am not so impolite.’

‘Unlike me?’

‘Yes, I thought you impolite.’

‘Pray do not let yourself be constrained by your good breeding,     Miss Pentewan. Rip up at me, if you wish, you have my permission!’

A smile tugged at her mouth.

‘It would be no more than you deserve.’

‘I am aware of that. So let me make amends now by walking to     the edge of my land with you.’

She gave in, nodding her assent, and he fell into step beside     her.

‘You walk this way every day?’

‘Yes. It is much the quickest route.’

‘Then you have seen the changes. I have cleared the paths and     thinned out the trees—that was what I was doing when I first met you and Nicky     in the woods.’

She remembered her first sight of him. A bearded woodsman, his     hair long and wild and with a fearsome axe at his side. It was a powerful image     that remained with her, even if the major looked so much more civilised now.

‘You have done much of the work yourself, I think.’

‘Yes. I like to keep active.’

‘And it sets your people a good example.’