Beneath the Major's Scars(31)

They were in the morning room at West Barton. Breakfast was     finished, Zelah had donned her riding habit and was waiting for Sally Hensley to     arrive. She could not deny she was looking forward to riding out. She had     enjoyed riding her father’s hack at Cardinham and she had brought her riding     habit with her to West Barton. However, Maria had explained to Zelah that she     had sold her horse, for there would not be any opportunity for her to ride until     little Reginald was older. What Zelah knew, although it remained unspoken, was     that there was no money to spare for such a luxury. Zelah had resigned herself     to the fact that she would never ride again, but now Major Coale’s delightful     sister had not only invited her to ride, but was willing to provide a mount,     too.

Zelah had spent some little time wondering if she should have     held fast and refused to go. But it had been far too tempting an offer and when     Sally eventually arrived, and Zelah was at last mounted upon the spirited bay     mare, she could not regret her decision. The mare tossed her head and snorted,     playfully sidestepping across the drive while Zelah kept control with the     lightest hold on the reins.

‘She is very lively, but you have her measure.’ Sally nodded     approvingly as Zelah brought her mount alongside Sally’s glossy black horse.

‘She is delightful.’ Zelah laughed. ‘What is her name?’

‘Portia. After Shakespeare.’ Sally chuckled. ‘Dom and Jasper     had taken me to see The Merchant of Venice as half     of my birthday treat. Portia was the other half. She is a delightful ride and     can cover miles without flagging, but then my husband bought Ebony for me.’ She     leaned forwards and stroked her horse’s gleaming neck. ‘Poor Portia was     ousted.’

‘I do not know how you can choose between them,’ commented     Zelah as they rode out into the lane.

‘Ebony was a present from my darling Ben. When you have a     much-loved husband you too will value any gift he gives you.’

‘I do not intend to marry. I am going to be a governess.’

‘Goodness. Wouldn’t you rather have a husband?’

‘No.’ Realising this bald answer might be a little rude, she     added, ‘I would rather be independent than marry the wrong man.’

‘Very true, but if you could marry any         man you wanted...?’

Zelah was silent. There was no possibility of her being able to     marry the man of her choice, so she would rather not think about it. She said     carefully, ‘It is all too easy to be deceived by a charming man.’ They followed     Sawley into a field and she took the opportunity to change the subject. ‘The     land is well drained here, shall we gallop the fidgets out of these horses?’

After racing across the open ground they settled down to follow     the groom as he pointed out to them the extent of the land belonging to Rooks     Tower. It was impossible for Zelah to keep up her reserve when Sally was so     naturally friendly. She could not, of course, agree that they should do away     with formality completely and while she was happy for Sally to use her first     name she was resolved never to call her companion anything other than Mrs     Hensley.



They had finished their tour with another gallop across     the moors and were about to turn back when a lone rider appeared in the     distance. Zelah’s heart skipped a beat. She instantly recognised the upright     rider on the huge grey horse.

‘Here is my brother now,’ declared Sally. She waved. ‘Just in     time to escort us home.’

The major spotted them and raised his hand. The grey mare broke     into a canter and very soon he had caught up with them. He did not smile in     response to Sally’s greeting and the downward turn of the left side of his mouth     was more pronounced than ever. Zelah regarded him anxiously.

‘Is anything the matter, Major?’

‘It’s Old Robin. They found his body in the Lightwater today.’     His voice, his whole manner, was terse.

‘Oh, good heavens!’

‘Who is this Robin?’ demanded Sally, her frowning glance moving     between them.

‘An old man from the village who spent most of his time living     wild in the woods. He earned a little money doing odd jobs for me or the other     landowners. There was nothing he didn’t know about this land. A useful     fellow.’

‘He will be sorely missed,’ added Zelah, thinking of Nicky.     ‘Who found him?’

‘Buckland was out with Giles Grundy early this morning, trying     to prove that the Lightwater is the river referred to in the charter. They came     upon him just where the Lightwater enters Prickett Wood.’

She shuddered. ‘Poor man. How long...?’

He shook his head. ‘No one knows. I saw him outside the White     Hart on the night of the hearing. He was drunk, then. No one seems to have seen     him since that night.’

‘Perhaps that was it, then,’ suggested Sally. ‘He lost his     footing and slipped into the stream and drowned. How sad. Has he any     family?’

‘A sister. Buckland has gone to see her.’

‘Is there anything to be done?’

‘No. Buckland and Sir Arthur, the local magistrate, have     everything in hand. Let me escort you home.’

The little party was subdued as it cantered back across the     fields to Rooks Tower. When they reached the fork in the path which led to West     Barton, Zelah drew rein.

‘This is where I must leave you. My brother-in-law will send     someone over with the mare tomorrow, if you wish, or Sawley can come with me     now.’

‘I would not hear of you going home alone,’ said Sally.     ‘Dominic shall accompany you.’

‘No, please,’ cried Zelah, alarmed. ‘There is no need for     that!’

‘It is the least he can do when you have given up your time for     me this morning. And we must do it again—I have enjoyed it so much. I know! We     will keep your riding habit at Rooks Tower, then when we want to go riding you     only have to change into it, and can go back to your work in the library     afterwards. What do you think, Dom?’

‘I think you are imposing upon Miss Pentewan’s good nature,     Sal.’

‘Nonsense. You enjoyed riding out with me, did you not,     Zelah?’

‘Very much, but—’

‘Then it is settled. Dom shall send the carriage over for you     in the morning, so that you can bring everything with you. Is that agreed?’

Overwhelmed, Zelah could only nod and earned a beaming smile     from Sally.

‘Good. That is settled. Now, see her home safely, Dominic. I     should come too, but I fear the journey yesterday tired me more than I first     thought.’

‘Very well,’ said Dominic. ‘Take Sawley with you, Sal. I will     see Miss Pentewan home.’

Once they had watched Sally and the groom cantering off towards     Rooks Tower, Zelah turned her horse towards West Barton, the major bringing the     big grey into line beside her. He said quietly,

‘You will have to explain to Nicky about Robin.’

‘I was thinking of that. Nicky has seen much less of Robin     since he has been attending classes with Mr Netherby, but he will still be     upset, I think.’

‘Would you like me to come with you?’

She looked up, surprised. ‘Th-that is very kind of you, Major,     but I think I can manage.’ She gave a little smile. ‘After all, I need to learn     to handle things like this, if I am to make a good governess.’

He gave an impatient huff. ‘You still hold by your absurd     plan?’

‘Of course.’ Zelah blinked. ‘Why not?’

‘You are attending the ball. It is not impossible that you will     meet some gentleman—’

‘Not you, too!’ she exclaimed bitterly. ‘I do not want to meet some gentleman. I can never marry.’

‘Can never marry?’ He jumped on the     word. ‘Is there some impediment then?’

Her hands jerked on the reins and Portia sidled nervously.

‘N-no, of course not,’ she stammered, aware that her cheeks     were hot and most likely very red. ‘I am merely determined to maintain my     independence. In fact...’ she put up her chin, suddenly remembering a letter     that had been delivered yesterday ‘...I have received an enquiry for a very good     situation as a governess. In Bath. I have to send references.’