‘Evening, Coale. Surprised to see you here, what with your...’ His eyes flickered over Dominic’s face and shifted away to the dance floor. ‘How are you enjoying the entertainment?’ Sir Oswald raised his quizzing glass and surveyed the room, his lip curling slightly. ‘A far cry from London, ain’t it? In fact it’s positively rustic, but it behoves us to make an appearance, what?’
Dominic felt the slight nudge in the ribs from Sir Oswald’s elbow and he moved away a little.
‘I saw you dancing, too. By Gad, but you are braver than me, Coale. I wouldn’t dare to approach any of the dragons lest they devour me!’
‘They are more like to refuse you,’ murmured Dominic.
Sir Oswald laughed.
‘You are right there, of course. It’s this demmed court case, they have set me up as the villain of the piece.’
‘Can you blame them? They have grazed those fields for years.’
‘I know.’ Sir Oswald shook his head. ‘They have got it into their heads that they can use my land, that it’s their right, but it ain’t, Coale, and the sooner they learn that the better. They have even paid for a London lawyer to come down to plead their cause at the hearing next week. I told ’em to save their money, but what can you do? It’s ill advised, Major, and I hope you’ll support me in that.’
Dominic looked at him, surprised.
‘The legal wranglings over grazing rights and the ownership of Prickett Wood is none of my concern, Evanshaw.’
‘Not directly, perhaps, but you never know when they might turn on you and begin claiming your land, too. It would be helpful if they knew that you supported my case.’
Dominic regarded him in silence for a long moment. Sir Oswald was smiling, but there was no warmth in his pale eyes, just a cold, calculating look.
‘I know nothing of your case,’ he said at last, ‘and I do not see why you are so concerned, if you are sure the land is legally yours.’
Sir Oswald’s eyes snapped with impatience and he chewed his lip.
‘At least assure me you won’t join with the villagers. It’s bad enough that Buckland should lend them his support. The farmers, well, I can understand them fighting me, but Buckland—demme, he’s a gentleman! It makes the lower sort think they have a chance.’
Dominic did not answer and with a curt nod Sir Oswald lounged away, shouldering his way through the crowd until he disappeared into the card room. An unpleasant fellow, Dominic decided as he strolled around the edge of the room. He found himself hoping that Buckland and the villagers did find some legal loophole that would stop Evanshaw claiming the disputed land.
‘You are looking very serious, Major. I hope you are enjoying yourself.’
He looked down at Maria Buckland, sitting on a nearby bench, sipping at a glass of wine. Shaking off his thoughtful mood, he scooped a glass from the tray of a passing waiter and sat down beside her.
‘I am, ma’am. More than I expected to do.’
‘I am very glad of it. I have always found the society here most friendly. But we were surprised to see you this evening: I understood you had told Mr Eldridge you did not plan to attend.’
Dominic smiled.
‘That is correct, ma’am, but I was, er, persuaded to change my mind. By your sister.’
‘Oh dear, I hope she was not impertinent.’
With some difficulty Dominic prevented the smile from turning into a grin and he resisted the temptation to tell Mrs Buckland exactly what he thought of her sister.
‘No, no. Not at all.’
‘Do you know, Major, when I think of Zelah spending her life as a governess I am quite cast down.’
Dominic had heard that innocent tone in many a woman’s voice, and he was immediately on the alert.
‘Indeed?’ He sipped his wine, determined to empty the glass and move on as quickly as possible.
‘Zelah is extremely accomplished,’ Maria continued, still in that thoughtful tone. ‘Do you not agree, Major?’
‘She certainly seems to be well educated.’
‘Oh, she is and her birth is impeccable.’ Maria clasped her hands around her glass and gave a huge sigh. ‘It is the most tragic waste that her worth—and her charms—are not more widely appreciated. She would make some lucky gentleman the perfect wife.’
Dominic choked in the act of finishing his wine.
‘Madam, that is the most blatant propositioning—!’
‘Oh heavens, Major, you quite mistake me, I did not mean—’ Maria put her hand on his arm to prevent him from rising. ‘Oh, my dear sir, I do not mean that you should be that gentleman! I beg your pardon. It is just, well, you and Reginald are related, after all.’
‘A very distant connection,’ he flashed.
Her gracious smile did not falter.
‘But it was thanks to Reginald that you heard Rooks Tower was for sale, did you not? So we have been of use to you, I believe.’ She leaned a little closer. ‘Let me be frank with you.’
He eyed her with some misgiving.
‘I’m afraid you have been too frank already.’
‘No, no. Pray allow me to explain. Zelah is a charming girl, but this assembly is the nearest she will get to a come-out, and much as I value the local society, you must admit there is no one here worthy of her. It is not that there are not good families living nearby, but you will never find Sir Arthur Andrews, or the Conisbys or the Lulworths attending such an assembly as this. No, what Zelah needs is a benefactor. Someone to hold a ball for her. A splendid affair attended by the best families in the area, so that they may see just what a jewel she is. And so that Zelah might see that there is an alternative to becoming a governess.’ She gave another sigh. ‘I would happily hold a ball for her, if we were in a position to do so, but you have visited West Barton, Major, you know we have no reception rooms suitable for more than a very small gathering.’ She fixed her eyes, so like her sister’s, upon him. ‘I believe Rooks Tower has several excellent reception rooms.’
Despite himself, Dominic’s lips twitched.
‘Mrs Buckland, you have been very frank with me, let me be equally plain. I will happily acknowledge that your husband and I are related and that it was through our mutual relative that I heard about Rooks Tower. I am very grateful for that, but even so I have no intention of holding a ball, for Miss Pentewan or anyone else.’
She stared at him and he held her gaze unblinking, until finally she nodded.
‘Reginald warned me how it would be, that you would not countenance such a thing, but Zelah thinks so highly of you, I thought I might put it to the touch.’
The music had ended and Reginald Buckland was even now bringing Zelah across to them. Dominic rose.
‘Well, you have done so and you may now be easy.’
Laughing and breathless, Zelah took Reginald’s arm and tripped across the room to join her sister. She immediately noticed the tall figure of the major beside Maria as they left the dance floor. He was standing with his left side turned to the wall so that he was presenting the right, uninjured side of his face to the room. Zelah found herself staring at his profile, the smooth plane of his cheek and the strong, clean line of his jaw. There was just the hint of a smile on the sculpted lips, perhaps it was something Maria had said to him. She was struck again by how handsome he was—had been.
As if aware of her attention he turned to look at her and she saw again the cruel, jagged scar that distorted the left side of his face. She kept her eyes upon him, refusing to glance away. She would not betray any sign of pity, even by a flicker of an eyelid. Whatever happy thoughts he had shared with Maria had gone. There was no hint of a smile in his hard grey eyes. Beside her she could hear Reginald’s loud, cheerful banter.
‘By Gad, Zelah, you have worn me out! I think I must sit and rest my old bones beside Maria for a while. What say you, will you sit down or shall I find you another partner? Eh, who would you dance with next?’