by the flickering shadows that danced around her. There was a thin strip of light showing beneath one of the doors off the hall and she did not hesitate. She crossed to the door and knocked softly before entering.
She was in Major Coale’s study, and the man himself was sitting before the dying fire, reading by the light of a branched candelabra on the table beside him.
‘I beg your pardon, I need to find Mrs Graddon. It’s Nicky …’
He had put down his book and was out of the chair even as she spoke. He was not wearing his coat and the billowing shirt-sleeves made him look even bigger than she remembered.
‘What is wrong with him?’
‘He is feverish and I c-cannot hold him …’
‘Let me see.’ He added, observing her hesitation, ‘I have some knowledge of these matters.’
Zelah nodded, impatient to return to Nicky. They hurried upstairs, the major’s dragging leg causing his shoe to scuff at each step. It was no louder than a whisper, but it echoed through the darkness. Nicky’s fretful crying could be heard even as they entered the anteroom. Zelah flew to his side.
‘Hush now, Nicky. Keep still, love, or you will hurt your leg again.’
‘It hurts now! I want Mama!’
The major put a gentle hand on his forehead.
‘She is looking after your little brother, sir. You have your aunt and me to take care of you.’ He inspected the bottles ranged on the side table and quickly mixed a few drops of laudanum into a glass of water.
The calm, male voice had its effect. Nicky blinked and fixed his eyes on Zelah, who smiled at him.
‘You are a guest in the major’s house, Nicky.’
‘Oh.’ The little fingers curled around her hand. ‘And are you staying here too, Aunt Zelah?’
‘She is,’ said the major, ‘for as long as you need her. Now, sir, let me help you sit up a little and you must take your medicine.’
‘No, no, it hurts when I move.’
‘We will lift you very carefully,’ Zelah assured him.
‘I don’t want to …’
‘Come, sir, it is only a little drink and it will take the pain away.’
The major slipped an arm about the boy’s shoulders and held the glass to his lips. Nicky took a little sip and shuddered.
‘It is best taken in one go,’ the major advised him.
The little boy’s mouth twisted in distaste.
‘Did you take this when you were wounded?’
‘Gallons of it,’ said the major cheerfully. ‘Now, one, two, three.’ He ruthlessly tipped the mixture down the boy’s throat. Nicky swallowed, shuddered and his lip trembled. ‘There, it is done and you were very brave. Miss Pentewan will turn your pillows and you will soon feel much more comfortable.’
‘Will you stay, ‘til I go to sleep again?’
‘You have your aunt here.’
‘Please.’
Zelah responded with a nod to the major’s quick glance of enquiry.
‘Very well.’ He sat down at the side of the bed and took the little hand that reached out for him.
‘Would you like me to tell you a story?’ asked Zelah, but Nicky ignored her. He fixed his eyes upon the major.
‘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
