Beneath the Major's Scars(34)

‘I emptied the final crate from Lydcombe Park this morning. It     contained all three volumes of Campbell’s Vitruvius         Britannicus.’

‘Are you suggesting I should remodel Rooks Tower into a     Palladian mansion?’

She threw him a scornful glance but was grateful for his     tone—she could deal with his light banter.

‘It is what is inside the second volume that is important.’

Carefully she opened the book to display a single sheet of     parchment, covered with closely packed rows of bold, black handwriting.

‘It is a contract for the sale of Lydcombe Park.’ Zelah could     hardly keep the excitement out of her voice.

‘But not a recent one. It is dated 1779.’

‘I know, but it describes in detail the eastern boundary of the     park and look here—it says that the easternmost point of the boundary is marked     with a large stone in Prickett Wood. The charter that was produced at the     hearing mentioned a boundary stone and everyone thought it was the marker that     used to be on the lane running past the bluebell wood.’

‘And that was removed over fifty years ago,’ said Dominic     slowly. ‘At least twenty years before this document was written.’

‘So there must be another marker stone, in the wood itself.     Could we go and look? If we could find it—’

‘No. We must proceed cautiously. Evanshaw may well know about     the marker. That may be why he has his men patrolling the wood, but they are     more likely to shoot you than ask what you are doing there. We should take this     document to Buckland. He will be able to verify it and then he can ask Sir     Arthur to authorise a search.’ He carefully rolled up the manuscript and tied it     with a ribbon. ‘Sally has taken my curricle, but I expect her back any time now.     Once she is returned I will take you and this document to West Barton.’

Zelah frowned. ‘Could I not take it now? I could walk...’

‘Are you so keen to get this to your brother-in-law?’

‘Well, most likely he will not even be at home, but I will not     rest until he has seen it.’

Dominic hesitated, then shook his head. ‘No. It is too hot for     such exertion. I will take you in the curricle.’

His autocratic tone made her long to retort, but she closed her     lips firmly together. Dominic saw her response and his mouth quirked     upwards.

‘You must have patience, madam. Your family would berate me     soundly if I allowed you to walk home in this heat.’

He was right, she knew it. She looked at the manuscript.

‘I suppose it would be foolish to set off yet. But after     finding this I do not think I can sit down and work.’

She risked looking at him and immediately realised her mistake.     Once he had captured her glance she could not look away. She was trapped. The     smile in his eyes deepened. He lifted one hand and gently rubbed the backs of     his fingers over her cheek.

‘There is one way to pass the time.’

His eyes dropped to her mouth and she responded by running her     tongue over her lips. She should step back, but her wayward limbs refused to     move. She was drawn like a magnet to the man in front of her. He had changed     into a clean shirt, waistcoat and buckskins, but without a jacket the white     sleeves billowed out, making the breadth of his shoulders even more impressive.     He dominated the space before her and she could not look away.

Very slowly he lowered his head and kissed her. It was the     gentlest of touches, his lips gliding across her mouth. She closed her eyes,     almost swooning as desire swamped her. His kiss deepened as he sensed her     reaction, his mouth working on her lips until they parted and his tongue     flickered, seeking her own. She wound her free hand around his neck, pulling him     closer while he plundered her mouth, his tongue dipping, diving, driving her     senses wild. She responded by pushing against him, returning kiss for kiss. When     he released her mouth and raised his head she gave a whimper, turning her face     up, standing on tiptoe as she reached up for him.

He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her away from him,     his eyes hard and bright.

‘You are not...repelled by my disfigurement?’

‘Repelled? No.’ She reached out one hand and gently placed her     fingers on his ragged cheek, then she brought up the other hand to pull his head     down until she could kiss his scarred brow, his cheek, his jaw.

Dominic put up his hand to cover hers and dragged it to his     mouth, pressing a kiss into the palm before pulling her into his arms again. She     lifted her face, inviting his kiss and eagerly returning it as he pushed aside     the muslin scarf that covered her neck and shoulders, his thumbs gently rubbing     along her collarbones. She threw back her head as his mouth grazed her throat     and moved on to kiss the soft swell of her breasts. Zelah trembled, the desire     that had been smouldering inside her bursting into a flame that threatened to     consume her, but even as she felt her body slipping out of control she began to     fight. She pushed against Dominic and immediately he let her go.

With a sob she turned away. ‘Oh, what have I done?’

‘Zelah.’

‘Oh, do not call me that! I am—must be—Miss Pentewan to     you.’

‘Of course.’ His voice was harsh. ‘I should have known. You     were merely taking pity—’

‘No!’ She spun round, saying indignantly, ‘What I feel for you     is not pity.’

‘Then why push me away?’

She put her hands to her burning cheeks, forcing herself to     tell him the truth.

‘I was afraid that if I did not stop you now I would not be     able to do so. You—you arouse such feelings in me as I have never known.’

As she spoke she fumbled to straighten her neckerchief. Dominic     pushed her hands aside and carefully rearranged the folds of muslin decorously     across her shoulders.

He said quietly, ‘Such feelings are natural between a man and a     woman.’

‘Not to me! I cannot afford such a luxury.’

‘It is not a luxury, it is a blessing.’ He slid his hands down     her arms and grasped her fingers. ‘Believe me, I would not have kissed you if I     didn’t think you wanted it, too. I saw the way you looked at me in the     yard.’

She pulled away, confused and embarrassed. ‘Fine words, sir. It     is very easy for you to return to your rakish ways!’

‘Hell and confound it, madam, do you think I am toying with     you?’

‘Of course you are. But it is partly my fault, for coming here     to work, putting myself in your power.’

‘My power!’ He laughed savagely. ‘You make me sound like the     villain of a melodrama.’

‘And that is just what you are,’ she flashed. ‘With your black     scowls and tortured looks—’ She stopped, her hands flying to her mouth. ‘Oh, I     should not have said that, I am so sorry—’

‘Nay, why should you hold back? I cannot deny that I have the     physiognomy for a rogue!’

‘That is not what I meant.’

‘Isn’t it? Do I not feature as the villain in your fantasy, a     grotesque being who has ensnared you, drawing you in against your will? Do I not     exert an evil fascination?’

‘No, no,’ she said unhappily. ‘You wilfully misunderstand me. I     will not stay here—I shall walk home now and never return.’

At that moment a sudden crack of thunder ripped the air. Zelah     gave a little cry of fright and shrank towards Dominic. Instinctively his arms     closed around her.

‘So,’ he muttered, ‘the thunder frightens you more than I     do.’

Zelah extricated herself from his embrace and said with as much     dignity as she could muster, ‘I never said you frightened me. I merely wish to     quit this house—and you!—as soon as possible.’

The quiet patter of raindrops intensified to a roar. Dominic     went over to close the window.

‘Well, you can hardly walk to West Barton now.’ He glanced back     and saw that she was looking out at the rain sheeting down, her bottom lip     caught between her teeth. He said coldly, ‘Do not fret, madam. I will not     inflict my presence on you a moment longer than necessary. Once my sister     returns, Sawley shall drive you to West Barton.’