Zelah moved on, ignoring his proffered arm. She was shocked to realise just how much she would like to be wandering here all night with Major Coale.
Nicky had stopped at a turn in the path to wait for them and as they reached him Zelah gave a little gasp of pleasure. The woodland stretched before them, the sun filtering through the lacy canopy of leaves onto the floor, which was covered in a thick carpet of bluebells and wild garlic.
‘Oh, how beautiful!’ She sank down, putting out her hands to brush the delicately nodding bluebells. ‘They are at the very peak of their bloom. I think we should pick some for you to take back to your mama, Nicky—make sure you pick them at the bottom of the stem, love.’
She began to collect the tallest flowers and within minutes had a large bunch, then Nicky handed her his contribution.
‘Goodness, that was quick!’ She rested the delicate blooms more securely on one arm and looked towards the major, who was still standing on the path. ‘What do you think, Major, are they not beautiful?’ He did not respond, merely stared at her across the dell. ‘Oh, I beg your pardon. Perhaps you are wishing to turn back, it must be growing late.’
‘We don’t have to turn back,’ said Nicky. ‘The path curves round by Prickett Wood and goes back to the village. It’s not far.’
The major cleared his throat.
‘Let us go on, then.’
Nicky ran on ahead, but when the major began to stride out Zelah had to hurry to keep up with him.
‘I am sorry if we have delayed you, Major.’
‘It is not important.’
She frowned at his harsh tone, but said no more, concentrating her energies on hurrying along beside him. They left the wood and found themselves on a wide track running between the trees.
‘I remember this,’ declared Zelah. ‘The road leads into Lesserton and the trees to our left lead into Prickett Wood, so you can be back at the smithy very soon now, sir.’
He did not reply and she gave a mental shrug. The easy camaraderie with which they had started out had gone and she tried to be glad about it, for when Major Coale chose to be charming she found him very hard to resist. She turned her attention to Nicky, running ahead of them, darting in and out of the trees, fighting imaginary foes. He seemed much happier now that he was spending some of his time at Mr Netherby’s school. He did not appear to miss her company at all.
Nicky plunged into the undergrowth at the side of the road and she waited for him to reappear, but he had not done so by the time they reached the point where he had dashed off the path. She was about to remark upon this to her companion when they heard a man shouting, as if in anger.
‘What the devil—?’
The major followed the narrow overgrown track into the wood and Zelah went after him, a chill of anxiety running down her spine. They heard the man’s voice again.
‘What in damnation do ye think you’re doing here? Trespassin’, that’s what! I’ll give ‘ee what for!’
‘Take your hands off the boy!’
The major barked out the command as they came into a small clearing. Nicky was wriggling helplessly while a burly man in a brown jacket and buckskins held his collar. The man had raised his fist but he did not strike, instead he glared at them.
‘And who the devil might you be?’
‘Never mind that. Unhand the boy. Now.’
‘That I won’t. He’s trespassin’. This is Sir Oswald’s land and no one’s allowed in here.’
‘The boy strayed a few yards off the path. He’s done no harm.’ The major’s cool authority had some effect. The man lowered his fist, but he kept a tight grip on Nicky’s collar. He said stubbornly, ‘He’s still trespassin’ and so are you. I have me orders, thrash any brats that comes into the wood—’
The major advanced. ‘Then you will have to thrash me first.’
The man scowled, his harsh features becoming even more brutish.
‘Aye, well, then that’s what I’ll do.’
‘No, please!’ Neither man heard Zelah’s cry.
There was another shout and a tall, thick-set man pushed through the bushes towards them. He was carrying a shotgun, but Zelah was relieved that he was not threatening anyone with it.
‘What is going on here? Miller? Who the devil are these people?’
‘Trespassers, Sir Oswald. They—’
The major interrupted him. ‘I am Coale, from Rooks Tower. If this is your man, then I’d be pleased if he’d unhand my young friend.’
‘Major Coale, aye, of course. Let the boy go, William.’
Reluctantly the man released his grip and Nicky tore himself free and ran over to Zelah, clutching at her skirts. Sir Oswald watched him, then looked at Zelah, giving her a rueful smile.
‘I beg your pardon if my bailiff frightened your boy, ma’am, but I have been having a great deal of trouble from the village children running in and out of the woods at all times, causing havoc.’
‘Mayhap they dispute your ownership of these woods,’ put in Dominic.
‘These are ignorant folk, Major. Just because they have been allowed to use the land in the past they think they have a right to it, but it ain’t so. I have to keep ‘em out.’
‘By beating small boys who wander inadvertently onto your land?’ The major’s lip curled. ‘Your methods are a little extreme.’
‘But what can I do?’ Sir Oswald shrugged. ‘We are culling the deer and I would not want to risk shooting anyone.’ He looked back at his bailiff. ‘It’s all right, Miller, you may go back to your work, I’ll escort these good people back to the lane.’ Sir Oswald stretched out his arm, as if shepherding them along. Zelah took Nicky’s hand and led him away. Behind her she could hear Sir Oswald’s voice.
‘I do not say I like appearing the ogre, Major, but I have to protect my own, and these people are very stubborn. Is it any wonder that Miller has become a little … hardened? But he knows his territory. Believe me, no one will come to any harm as long as they stay off my land.’
‘I do believe we have been warned off,’ murmured Dominic, when they were once more on the path and making their way back to the village.
‘What a horrid man.’ Zelah shivered. ‘Heaven knows what would have happened to Nicky if we had not been there.’
‘He has no right to shoot the deer,’ declared Nicky, who was recovering from his ordeal. ‘They have been there for ever, and it’s not his land.’
‘Well, that is what your papa is trying to prove.’ Zelah squeezed his hand. ‘I hope he is successful. I do not like to think of Sir Oswald riding roughshod over everyone.’
‘There
