Beneath the Major's Scars (3 page)

‘Will you tell me how you got your scar?’

Zelah stopped breathing. She glanced at the major. He did not
look to be offended.

‘I have told you that a dozen times. You cannot want to hear it
again.’

‘Yes, I do, if you please, sir.
All
of it.’

‘Very well.’

He pulled his chair closer to the bed and Zelah drew back into
the shadows.

‘New Year’s Day ’09 and we were struggling through the
mountains back towards Corunna, with the French hot on our heels. The weather
was appalling. During the day the roads were rivers of mud and by night they
were frozen solid. When we reached Cacabelos—’

‘You missed something,’ Nicky interrupted him. ‘The man with
the pigtail.’

‘Ah, yes.’ Major Coale’s eyes softened in amusement. In the
shadows Zelah smiled. She had read Nicky enough stories to know he expected the
same tale, word for word, each time. The major continued. ‘One Highlander woke
to find he couldn’t get up because his powdered pigtail was frozen to the
ground. A couple of days later we reached the village of Cacabelos and the
little stone bridge over the River Cua. Unfortunately discipline had become a
problem during that long retreat to Corunna and General Edward Paget was obliged
to make an example of those guilty of robbery. He was about to execute two of
the men when he heard that the French were upon us. The general was extremely
vexed at this, and after cursing roundly he turned to his men. “If I spare the
lives of these men,” he said, “do I have your word of honour as soldiers that
you will reform?” The men shouted “Yes!” and the convicted men were cut
down.’

‘Huzza!’ Nicky gave a sleepy cheer.

Major Coale continued, his voice soft and low.

‘And just in time, for the enemy were already in sight. They
were upon us in an instant, the French 15th Chasseurs and the 3rd Hussars, all
thundering down to the bridge. All was confusion—our men could not withdraw
because the way was blocked with fighting men and horses. Fortunately the
chasseurs were in disarray and drew back to regroup, giving us time to get back
across the bridge. We fixed bayonets and waited below the six guns of the horse
artillery, which opened fire as the French charged again. The 52nd and the 95th
delivered a furious crossfire on their flanks, killing two generals and I don’t
know how many men, but still they came on and fell upon us.’

He paused, his brow darkening. Nicky stirred and the major drew
a breath before going on.

‘I found myself caught between two chasseurs. I wounded one of
them, but the other closed in. His sabre slashed down across my face and chest.
I managed to unseat him and he crashed to the ground. He made another wild slash
and caught my leg, but I had the satisfaction of knowing he was taken prisoner
and his comrades were in full retreat before I lost consciousness.’

‘Don’t stop, sir. What happened then?’ Nicky’s eyes were
beginning to close.

‘I was patched up and put on to a baggage wagon. Luckily I had
no serious internal injuries, for I fear it would have been fatal to be so
shaken and jarred as we continued to Villafranca. I remember very little after
that until we reached England. Someone had sent word to Markham, and my brother
came to collect me from Falmouth and take me home. There I received the best
treatment available, but alas, even money cannot buy me a new face.’

He lapsed into silence. Nicky was at last in a deep sleep, his
little hand still clasped in the major’s long lean fingers. Silence enveloped
them. At length the major became aware of Zelah’s presence and turned to look at
her. She realised then her cheeks were wet with tears.

‘I—I beg your pardon.’ Quickly she turned away, pulling out her
handkerchief. ‘You have been most obliging, Major Coale, more than we had any
right to expect.’ She wiped her eyes, trying to speak normally. ‘Nicky is
sleeping now. We do not need to trouble you any longer.’

‘And what will you do?’

‘I shall sit with him...’

He shook his head.

‘You cannot sit up all night. I will watch over him for a few
hours while you get some sleep.’

Zelah wavered. She was bone-weary, but she was loath to put
herself even deeper in this man’s debt. He gave an exasperated sigh.

‘Go and lie down,’ he ordered her. ‘You will not be fit to look
after the boy in the morning if you do not get some sleep.’

He was right. Zelah retired to the little anteroom. She did not
undress, merely removed her shoes and stretched out on the bed, pulling a single
blanket over her. Her last waking thought was that it would be impossible to
sleep with Major Coale sitting in the next room.

* * *

Zelah was awoken by a cock crowing. It was light, but
the sun had not yet risen. She stared at the unfamiliar surroundings, then, as
memory returned, she slipped off the bed and crept into the next room. Nicky was
still sleeping soundly and the major was slumped forwards over the bed, his
shaggy dark head on his arms.

The fire had died and the morning air was very chill.
Noiselessly Zelah crossed the room and knelt down by the hearth.

‘What are you doing?’

The major’s deep voice made her jump.

‘I am going to rescue the fire.’

‘Oh, no, you are not. I will send up a servant to see to
that.’

He towered over her, hand outstretched. She allowed him to help
her up, trying to ignore the tingle that shot through her at his touch. It
frightened her. His presence filled the room, it was disturbing, suffocating,
and she stepped away, searching for something to break the uneasy silence.

‘I—um—the story you told Nicky, about your wound. It was
very...violent for a little boy. He seemed quite familiar with it.’

‘Yes. He asked me about my face the very first time he saw me
and has wanted me to recount the story regularly ever since.’ He was watching
the sleeping boy, the smile tugging at his lips just visible through the black
beard. ‘I was working in the woods and he came up, offered to help me finish off
the game pie Mrs Graddon had packed into my bag to sustain me through the
day.’

‘You must have thought him very impertinent.’

‘Not at all. His honesty was very refreshing. Most people look
away, embarrassed by my disfigurement.’

‘Oh, I beg your pardon. I hope you did not think that
I—
’

The smile turned into a grin.

‘You, madam, seemed intent upon inflicting even more damage
upon me.’

The amusement in his eyes drew a reluctant smile from
Zelah.

‘You did—do—look rather savage. Although I know now that you
are very kind,’ she added in a rush. She felt herself blushing. ‘You have been
sitting here all night and must be desperate for sleep. I can manage now, thank
you, Major. You had best go...’

‘I should, of course. I will send someone up to see to the fire
and order Mrs Graddon to bring your breakfast to you.’

‘Thank you.’ He gave her a clipped little bow and turned to
leave.

‘Major! The chasseur—the one who injured you—was he really
taken prisoner?’

He stopped and looked back.

‘Yes, he was.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I may
look
like a monster, Miss Pentewan, but I assure you I am not.’

Chapter Two

N
icky was drowsy
and fretful when he eventually woke up, but Dr
Pannell was able to reassure Zelah that he was recovering well.

‘A little fever is to be expected, but he seems to be in fine
form now. I think keeping him still is going to be your biggest problem.’

* * *

Zelah had thought so too and she was relieved when
Reginald arrived with a selection of toys and games for his son.

‘Goodness!’ She laughed when she saw the large basket that
Reginald placed on the bed. ‘Major Coale will think we plan to stay for a
month.’

Reginald grinned.

‘I let Nurse choose what to send. I fear she was over-generous
to make up for not being able to come herself.’

‘And what did our host say, when you came in with such a large
basket?’

‘I have not seen him. His man informed me that he is busy with
his keeper and likely to be out all day.’ He glanced at Nicky, happily sorting
through the basket, and led Zelah into the anteroom. ‘I had the feeling he was
ordered to say that and to make sure I knew that he had given instructions for a
maid to sit up with the boy during the night. Setting my mind at rest that he
would not be imposing himself upon you while you are here.’

‘Major Coale is very obliging.’

‘Dashed ragged fellow though, with all that hair, but I suppose
that’s to cover the scar on his face.’ He paused. ‘Maria asked me to drop a word
in your ear, but for my part I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.’

‘What did she wish you to say to me?’

He chewed his lip for a moment.

‘She was concerned. Coale was well known as something of a, er,
a rake before the war. His name was forever in the society pages. Well, stands
to reason, doesn’t it, younger son of a viscount, and old Lord Markham had some
scandals to his name, I can tell you! Coale’s brother’s inherited the title now,
of course, and from what I have read he’s just as wild as the rest of ’em.’ He
added quickly, ‘Only hearsay, of course. I’ve never had much to do with that
side of the family—far too high and mighty for one thing. The Bucklands are a
very distant branch. But that’s neither here nor there. We were worried the
major might try to ingratiate himself with you—after all, we are mighty obliged
to him—and Maria thought you might have...stirrings.’

‘Stirrings, Reginald?’

He flushed.

‘Aye. Maria says that sometimes a woman’s sympathy for an
injured man can stir her—that she can find him far too...attractive.’

Zelah laughed.

‘Then you may set Maria’s mind at rest. The only
stirring
I have when I think of Major Coale is to comb
his hair!’

* * *

Reginald stayed for an hour or more and after that
Hannah, the chambermaid appointed to help Zelah look after Nicky, came up to
introduce herself. By the time dinner was brought up it was clear that she was
more than capable of nursing Nicky and keeping him amused, and Zelah realised a
trifle ruefully that it was not Nicky’s boredom but her own that might be a
problem.

* * *

Zelah and Hannah had taken it in turns to sit up with
Nicky through the night, but there was no recurrence of the fever and when Dr
Pannell called the following morning he declared himself satisfied that the boy
would be able to go home at the end of the week.

‘I will call again on Friday, Miss Pentewan, and providing
there has been no more bleeding we will make arrangements to return you both to
West Barton. You will be the first to use the major’s new carriageway.’

‘Oh, is it finished?’ asked Zelah. ‘I have been watching them
repair the drive, but I cannot see what is going on beyond the gates.’

‘I spoke to the workmen on the way here and they told me the
road will be passable by tomorrow. The road-building has been a godsend for
Lesserton, providing work for so many of the men. The problems with grazing
rights is making it difficult for some of them to feed their families.’

‘Is this the dispute with the new owner of Lydcombe Park? My
brother-in-law mentioned something about this before I came away.’

‘Aye, Sir Oswald Evanshaw moved in on Lady Day and he is
claiming land that the villagers believe belongs to them.’ The doctor shook his
head. ‘Of course, he has a point: the house has changed hands several times in
recent years, but no one has actually lived there, so the villagers have been in
the habit of treating everything round about as their own. The boundaries
between Lydcombe land and that belonging to the villagers have become confused.
He’s stopped them going into Prickett Wood, too, so they cannot collect the
firewood as they were used to do and Sir Oswald’s bailiff is prepared to use
violence against anyone who tries to enter the wood. He’s driven out all the
deer, so that they are now competing with the villagers’ stock for fodder.’ He
was silent for a moment, frowning over the predicament, then he shook off his
melancholy thoughts and gave her a smile. ‘Thankfully Major Coale is of a
completely different stamp. He is happy for the local people to gather firewood
from his forest. It is good fortune that Nicky chose to injure himself on the
major’s land rather that at Lydcombe.’

* * *

Zelah had agreed, but as the day wore on she began to
wonder if she would have the opportunity to thank her host for his hospitality.
With Hannah to share the nursing Zelah was growing heartily bored with being
confined to the sickroom.

* * *

When the maid came up the following morning she asked
her casually if the major was in the house.

‘Oh, no, miss. He left early. Mr Graddon said not to expect him
back much before dinner.’

She bobbed a curtsy and settled down to a game of spillikins
with Nicky. Left to amuse herself, Zelah carried her work basket to the
cushioned window seat and took out her embroidery. It was a beautiful spring day
and she could hear the faint call of the cuckoo in the woods.

The sun climbed higher. Zelah put away her sewing and read to
Nicky while Hannah quietly tidied the room around them. The book was one of
Nicky’s favourites,
Robinson Crusoe,
but as the
afternoon wore on his eyelids began to droop, and soon he was sleeping
peacefully.

‘Best thing for’n. Little mite.’ Hannah looked down fondly at
the sleeping boy. ‘Why don’t you go and get yourself some rest, too, miss? I’ll
sit here and watch’n for ’ee.’

Zelah sighed, her eyes on the open window.

‘What I would really like to do is to go outside.’

‘Then why don’t ’ee? No one’ll bother you. You could walk in
the gardens. I can always call you from the window, if the boy wakes up.’

Zelah hesitated, but only for a moment. The spring day was just
too beautiful to miss. With a final word to Hannah to be sure to call her if she
was needed, she slipped down the stairs and out of the house.

The lawns had been scythed, but weeds now inhabited the
flowerbeds and the shrubs were straggling and overgrown. After planning how she
would restock the borders and perhaps add a statue or two, she moved on and
discovered the kitchen garden, where some attempt was being made to improve
it.

The hedge separating the grounds from the track that led to the
stables had been hacked down to waist height, beds had been dug and cold frames
repaired. Heartened by these signs of industry, Zelah was about to retrace her
steps when she heard the clip-clop of an approaching horse. Major Coale was
riding towards the stables on a huge grey horse. She picked up her skirts and
flew across to the hedge, calling out to him.

He stopped, looking around in surprise.

‘Should you not be with the boy?’

She stared up at him.

‘You have shaved off your beard.’

‘Very observant. But you have not answered my question.’

‘Hannah is sitting with him. It was such a beautiful day I had
to come out of doors.’

She answered calmly, refusing to be offended by his curt tone
and was rewarded when he asked in a much milder way how the boy went on.

‘He is doing very well, thank you. Dr Pannell is coming in the
morning to examine Nicky. All being well, I hope to take him back to West Barton
tomorrow.’ He inclined his head and made to move on. She put up her hand.
‘Please, don’t go yet! I wanted to thank you for all you have done for us.’

‘That is not necessary.’

‘I think it is.’ She smiled. ‘I believe if I had not caught you
now I should not have seen you again before we left.’

He looked down at her, unsmiling. His grey eyes were as hard as
granite.

‘My staff have orders to look after you. You have no need to
see me.’

‘But I want to.’ She glanced away, suddenly feeling a little
shy. ‘You have been very kind to us. I wanted to thank you.’

She could feel his eyes boring into her and kept her own fixed
on the toe of his muddy boot.

‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘You have thanked me. That is an
end to it.’

He touched his heels to the horse’s flanks and moved on.

‘I wish I had said nothing,’ she muttered, embarrassment making
her irritable. ‘Did I expect him to thaw a little, merely because I expressed my
gratitude? The man is nothing but a boor.’

Even as she spoke the words she came to a halt as another, more
uncomfortable thought occurred. Perhaps Major Coale was lonely.

What was it Mrs Graddon had said?
He was a
great one for society
. That did not sit well with his assertion that
he had no wish for company. His curt manner, the long hair and the shaggy beard
that had covered his face until today—perhaps it was all designed to keep the
world at bay.

‘Well, if that is so, it is no concern of mine,’ she addressed
the rosemary bush beside her. ‘We all have our crosses to bear and some of us do
not have the means to shut ourselves away and wallow in our misery!’

* * *

When Dr Pannell called the next day he gave Nicky a
thorough examination, at the end of which Zelah asked him anxiously if he might
go home now.

‘I think not, my dear.’

‘But his mama is so anxious for him,’ said Zelah, disappointed.
‘And you said he might be moved today...’

‘I know, but that was when I thought the major’s new road would
be finished. Now they tell me it will not be open properly until tomorrow. Be
patient, my dear. Major Coale has told me his people will be working into the
night to make the road passable for you.’

With that she had to be satisfied. Nick appeared quite
untroubled by the news that he was to remain at Rooks Tower. His complaisance
was much greater than Zelah’s. She hated to admit it, but she was finding the
constant attendance on an eight-year-old boy and the company of an amiable but
childish chambermaid a little dull.

After sharing a light luncheon with Nicky, Zelah left the boy
reading with Hannah and went off in search of Mrs Graddon, to offer her help,
only to find that the good lady had gone into Lesserton for supplies. Unwilling
to return to the sickroom just yet, Zelah picked up her shawl and went out to
explore more of the grounds.

Having seen enough of the formal gardens, she walked around to
the front of the house and headed for the orangery. A chill wind was blowing
down from the moors and she wrapped her shawl about her as she crossed the lawn.
The orangery was built in the classical style. Huge sash windows were separated
by graceful pillars that supported an elegant pediment. Between the two central
columns were glazed double doors. The stone was in good order, if in need of a
little repair, but the woodwork looked sadly worn and several panes of glass
were broken.

Zelah was surprised to find the doors unlocked. They opened
easily and she stepped inside, glad to be out of the wind. The interior was
bare, save for a few dried leaves on the floor, but there were niches in the
walls which were clearly designed to hold statues. A shadow fell across her and
she swung around.

‘Oh.’

Major Coale was standing in the doorway. She guessed he had
just returned from riding, for his boots were spattered with mud and there was a
liberal coating of dust on his brown coat. His broad-brimmed hat was jammed on
his head and its shadow made it impossible to read his expression. She waved her
hand ineffectually.

‘I—um—I hope you do not mind...’

‘Why should I?’ He stepped inside, suddenly making the space
seem much smaller. ‘I saw the open doors and came across to see who was here.
What do you think of it?’

‘It is in need of a little repair,’ she began carefully.

‘I was thinking of tearing it down—’

‘No!’ She put her hand to her mouth. ‘I beg your pardon,’ she
said stiffly. ‘It is of course up to you what you do here.’

‘It is indeed, but I am curious, Miss Pentewan. What would
you
do with it?’

‘New windows and doors,’ she said immediately. ‘Then I would
furnish it with chairs for the summer and in the winter I would use it as it was
intended, to shelter orange trees.’

‘But I have no orange trees.’

‘You might buy some. I understand oranges are extremely good
for one.’

He grunted.

‘You are never at a loss for an answer, are you, ma’am?’

Yes,
she thought,
I am at a loss now.

She gave a little shrug and looked away.

‘I should get back.’

‘I will accompany you.’

She hurried out into the sunlight and set off for the house.
Major Coale fell into step beside her.

‘So you will be leaving us tomorrow. I met Dr Pannell on the
road,’ he explained, answering her unspoken question. ‘You will be glad to
return to West Barton.’

‘Yes.’ He drew in a harsh breath, as if she had touched a raw
wound and she hurried to explain. ‘It is not—you have been all kindness, and
your staff have done everything required...’