Regency Beauty. Sarah Mallory
You are not using the tower room?’
‘No, not at present.’
The room held unsettling memories of the feelings he had roused in her. He tapped the riding crop against the palm of his hand as he glanced around the room, his expression unreadable.
‘I came to tell you that you will soon have more books arriving. A few months back I purchased the contents of Lydcombe Park Library. The books have been in storage with my man of business since the sale. They are in a number of large crates, too big for the pack ponies, but now the road is finished they can be brought here by wagon, as soon as I can spare the men to fetch them.’
‘Oh. Well then, it is a good thing I have not yet put everything in order.’ She bent an enquiring gaze upon him. ‘Are these useful books, sir, or might we find more classical texts in this consignment?’
‘I have no idea. I have never seen them.’
‘So we may well have more than one copy of some titles, sir.’
‘If that is the case then I shall leave it to you to decide which one to keep.’ His tone was cold, indifferent, and Zelah wondered if he was perhaps displeased with her way of working. She was framing the question in her mind when he reached out and flicked the edge of the muslin scarf. ‘If you covered up your charms for my benefit then you were wasting your time, Miss Pentewan. I have no interest in hired staff.’
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