Regency Beauty: Beneath the Major's Scars / Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager. Sarah Mallory
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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.
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.’
‘There is that, too.’
They were walking through the woods now and Zelah could see the signs of clearance everywhere, but new growth was already appearing, bright splashes of green pushing up from the ground. The Major raised his hand to acknowledge a woman and her children coming through the trees. The woman dipped a slight curtsy, then she murmured a word to the children, who tugged at their forelocks.
‘You do not mind the villagers coming here to collect their firewood?’
He shrugged.
‘Once we have cut up the logs and taken them away they are welcome to anything that is left, although Phillips, my keeper, tells me there has been a marked increase in the number of people coming into the woods of late.’
‘The villagers no longer have access to Prickett Wood,’ explained Zelah. ‘Reginald tells me the new owner is going to fence it off. Do you know Sir Oswald?’
‘A nodding acquaintance only.’
‘But I thought his land borders your own.’
‘Not quite, so I have had no reason to make contact with Sir Oswald. I told you, I do not socialise, Miss Pentewan.’
‘Perhaps you should.’ She screwed up her courage. ‘People would soon grow accustomed to your … to your scars.’
His short bark of laughter held more than a touch of bitterness.
‘I would be accused of frightening the children.’
‘No! Think of Nicky.’
‘A lonely child, desperate for company. When he is with his new school friends I doubt he will be as keen to acknowledge me.’
‘That is not true, he is proud to be acquainted with you.’
‘Kind words, ma’am, but I fear you know very little of human nature. But it is not just that.’ He paused, and, glancing up, she saw him gazing into the distance, as if looking into another world. ‘Spain was a very sobering experience for me, Miss Pentewan. There is no glory in war, in all the death and carnage that takes place, but I found the life infinitely preferable to what I had been before—a rake, a fop, whose only interest was to wear a fashionable coat and flirt with all the prettiest women. That is what society expects of a gentleman, madam, and I want none of it now.’
‘But the people here are not fashionably idle, Major Coale. There are many good, hardworking men who want nothing more