‘Sir Oswald.’ He bowed. ‘Timothy Lerryn, at your service. I wonder if I might have a word with you. There is something I think you should know...’
In the supper room Zelah found her sister sitting with Sally Hensley while Reginald paced up and down behind them.
‘He is still fretting over his words with Sir Oswald,’ Maria explained when Zelah came up with Dominic.
‘Aye, blast his eyes, the man came bang up to me to say that his men had found Giles Grundy on his land and sent him home with a broken arm. Then he had the effrontery to suggest the hearing next week was as good as settled!’ Reginald scowled blackly. ‘He thinks he has Sir Arthur in his pocket, but when I show them that new document—!’
‘Yes, dear, now sit down, do and calm yourself.’ Maria shook her head at him. ‘The man is indeed a scoundrel, but we will not stoop to his level. I will visit the Grundys tomorrow and offer what help I can and you will use the law against Sir Oswald.’
‘I’ll ride over, too,’ said Dominic, holding a chair for Zelah. ‘I can spare some of my men from the woodcutting if Grundy needs help on his farm. Now if you will excuse me—’
‘Are you not going to eat with us?’ asked Sally.
Dominic shook his head. ‘I promised a certain young man he would have some supper. So I am going to take it to him!’
The last dance had ended and the salon was rapidly clearing. Dominic looked for Zelah, but she was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had gone off with Jasper to the drawing room. He and his twin had made a habit of that in their younger days, seeking out the prettiest girls and carrying them off at the end of the evening to engage in a desperate flirtation.
Dominic tugged at his neckcloth. It was all he could do not to go storming off to find them. Instead he forced himself to remain outwardly calm as the last of his guests took their leave. He escorted them out to the drive and watched the final carriages rattle away until the silence of the summer night was restored. For once there was no wind to freshen the balmy air, the moon rode high in the cloudless sky, dimming the stars and bathing everything in a silver blue light. After the clamour of the evening, the peaceful calm was soothing and he did not want to return to the house immediately. He set off across the grass rather than have the scrunching of the gravel under his feet disturb the night.
Even before the ball was over, Maria was congratulating Zelah on her success. She began to talk of having a small gathering at West Barton.
‘Nothing as grand as this of course, but we could perhaps invite one or two of the gentlemen who danced with you...’
Zelah stopped her. ‘I know what is in your mind, Maria, you think to persuade one of those eligible gentlemen to offer for me.’ Timothy Lerryn’s scowling image rose up before her. ‘I do not want a husband.’
She read the determination in her sister’s face and made her excuses to walk away. The orchestra was playing the last dance of the evening and she could see Dominic partnering his sister. There was no chance now that he would dance with her and Zelah slipped quietly away to her room.
There were no curtains or shutters on the windows and the moonlight flooded in on all sides, making candles unnecessary, but it was oppressively hot. She wanted to be out of doors, but that was impossible. It was the middle of the night and not safe for anyone to be wandering around alone, especially a young lady. She remembered the flat roof above her. That surely would be safe enough. Quickly she slipped out of the room and up the stairs.
Zelah stepped out on to the roof. She gazed about her, entranced. It was a magical world, all grey and blue moonshadows. She paced around, her slippered feet making no sound on the stone slabs. It was easier to think up here, for the rest of the world seemed very far away and somehow less important. There had been no lack of partners this evening, she had enjoyed the dancing and for a short time she had felt like a carefree girl again. That was what she had hoped for, wasn’t it? A few hours of enjoyment before she settled down to the sober existence of a governess.
She gazed out at the distant moors, silver under the moonlight. She would not deceive herself, she had hoped for more. She had wanted Dominic to dance with her. It was too much to hope that he would flirt with her, as his brother had done, bringing a flush to her cheeks with his cheerful nonsense, but she had thought perhaps he might compliment her upon her appearance.
She wrapped her arms across her chest as a huge wave of anger and futility welled up. She wished there had been no summer ball, that the world had remained shut out of Dominic’s life.
That she could have kept him to herself.
It was a despicable thought and she quickly dismissed it. She did not want Dominic to be a sad, lonely recluse. He needed to take his place in society, even if that meant he had little time for her.
And what did that matter? She would not be here much longer. The books were all in order now and in another few weeks the cataloguing would be finished. She really must remind Sally to write her a reference and make efforts to secure another position, although she knew that nothing could compare to being at Rooks Tower.
‘What the devil are you doing here?’
She jumped as Dominic’s angry words cut through the night. ‘I—I beg your pardon. I did not think there could be any harm...’
‘Harm? Foolish girl, you know the stonework is unsound. Come away from that wall.’
His anger sliced into her like a knife. Not for her the soft, civil tone he used for his guests. Just because she had been allowed to attend his summer ball she must not think herself anything other than a servant. The unhappiness within her tightened into a hard knot.
‘I had not forgotten. I am sorry. I shall not come here again—’
She ran for the stairs, but as she passed him his hand shot out, gripping her arm. He was not wearing gloves and she could feel the heat of his fingers through the thin sleeve.
‘Wait. There are tears on your cheek.’
She turned her head away from him. ‘Please, let me go.’
Instead he pulled her closer, putting one hand under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. The moonlight glinted in his eyes, twin devils sent to mock her. Gently he wiped her tears away with his thumb.
‘Has someone been unkind to you tonight?’
‘N-no.’ It was a struggle to speak with more tears ready to fall.
He said roughly, ‘Perhaps you are regretting sending Lerryn away.’
‘You know that is not so!’
‘Then why are you crying?’
‘I—um—I am just...very tired.’
How could she tell him the truth? His eyes bored into her and she prayed he would not read her thoughts. At last he looked up at the moon, letting his breath go in a long sigh.
‘Yes, it has been a long day.’ He pulled her close and enfolded her in his arms. She did not resist, it was the most natural thing in the world to allow herself to lean against him. ‘It has been quite exhausting, having so many people in the house.’
‘Did you not enjoy it?’ she murmured the words into his coat.
‘I did, after a fashion. It is good to know I am not a pariah, a social outcast.’ His arms tightened. ‘And it is you I have to thank for that, Zelah. You made me see that all was not lost.’
‘Then...then you are not angry with me?’
‘Angry? No. I was worried lest you lean on the parapet and the stonework should give way.’
‘Oh.’
It was a spark of comfort. The tiny flame warmed her heart. She let herself relax against him, her cheek against his shoulder. His breath ruffled her curls, softer than the night breeze.
‘I am pleased I could help,’ she murmured.
‘And now I shall do something for you. Sally told me you had asked her to recommend you. With her support I have no doubt that we can find you a suitable post. I was talking to her earlier—are you set upon becoming a governess? Because we thought perhaps you might find the role of companion more to your taste. Sally has many contacts.’