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 than to better themselves and their families.’
‘Then good luck to them, but they shall not do so on my coat-tails.’
‘That is not what I meant—’
‘Enough!’ They had reached the lane that separated Major Coale’s land from the gardens of West Barton. Dominic stopped. ‘I am a lost cause, Miss Pentewan. I will live my own life, in my own way. I have no wish to consort with my neighbours, and there’s an end to it.’ He looked up. ‘We part here.’
She said impulsively, ‘Even so, there is no reason why you should not treat your wounds. There is a cream, a herbal remedy, it is excellent for softening the skin—’
‘I want none of your potions, madam!’
‘It is not a potion, but it might help.’
‘I hired you as my librarian, not my doctor.’ He glowered at her. ‘Do not push me too far.’
The implacable look in his eyes told her she must accept defeat. For the moment. As a child she had accompanied her father when he visited his parishioners. They had met with pride and stubbornness many times, but her father’s message had always been the same. Where Zelah had been inclined to argue, he would stop her, saying gently, ‘Let the matter lie for now, but never give up.’ She therefore swallowed any retort and merely inclined her head.
‘Thank you, sir, for your company.’
He bowed.
‘It was a pleasure. Until tomorrow.’
It was only a step across the lane to the little wicket gate leading to the gardens, but when Zelah turned to latch the gate there was no sign of the major. He had disappeared back into the woods.
Zelah always enjoyed her days at Rooks Tower, but when she awoke the following morning she felt an added sense of anticipation. A blustery wind was blowing the grey clouds across the sky when she set out. It tugged at her skirts and threatened to whip away her bonnet. She arrived at last, windswept but exhilarated, and made her way through the darkened salon to the library. She looked around her with satisfaction. Most of the books were on the shelves now and in a rough order. She had dusted and cleaned each one, putting aside any that required repair. She was engaged in writing the details in the ledgers, in her neat copperplate hand, when the major came in.
‘No, no, do not get up.’ He waved her back into her seat. ‘Carry on with your laborious task. I would not give you an excuse to shirk your duties.’
He perched himself upon the edge of the desk and turned the ledger to inspect the latest entries. She was pleased that he no longer attempted to present only his right side to her and she laughed up at him, barely noticing the jagged line running down his face.
‘I am obliged to break off now and again to rest my eyes, so I consider your interruption very timely.’
‘If this were my job I would welcome any interruption. It would irk me beyond bearing to sit here all day.’ He pushed the ledger back towards her. ‘Do you not long to be out of doors?’
A spatter of rain hit the windows and she chuckled.
‘Not when the weather is like this! When the sun is shining I admit it is very tempting to go out, but then I open the windows, and I have my walk home to look forward to.’
‘There is that, of course. Now, is there anything you want of me today?’
‘Only to look at the books I have set aside, sir, and tell me if you want them repaired or thrown away …’
She directed his attention to the books piled on a side table. The major went through them with the same decisiveness he gave to every other task she had seen him perform.
‘So, these are to go to the bookbinder for new covers and the rest …’ Zelah paused, picking up a dilapidated copy of Newton’s Principia. ‘Are you quite sure you want me to throw these away?’
‘Perfectly. The book you are holding has been ruined by damp and misuse, it is beyond repair.’ Reluctantly Zelah put the book down and he gave an impatient sigh. ‘Pray do not get sentimental over such an object, madam. There may well be another copy amongst the books from Lydcombe Park. If not, then you can order a new one for me.’
‘Yes,
