‘Yes, and I can ask him to call and see me,’ agreed Nicky. He frowned, suddenly unsure. ‘He will come, won’t he? If I ask him ‘specially.’
‘I do not see how he can refuse.’ Reginald grinned at Zelah. ‘But I might have to instruct the staff not to send him round to the kitchens—when I saw him last he looked so ragged one might easily mistake him for a beggar.’
‘I think you might be surprised,’ murmured Zelah, smiling to herself.
The five miles to West Barton were covered with ease and they were greeted with great joy by the household. Maria clasped her stepson and wept copiously, bewailing the fact that she had been unable to visit him, while Nurse promised him all sorts of treats to make up for his ordeal.
‘I only hope being in That Man’s house hasn’t given you nightmares,’ said Nurse, tucking Nicky into his bed. ‘I believe he is truly hideous to look at.’
Anger welled up in Zelah, but she fought it down and said quietly, ‘Nonsense. Major Coale has a scar on his face, nothing more.’
‘Yes, and I don’t care for that,’ exclaimed Nicky. ‘He’s a great gun.’
‘Of course he is, my pet. Now, you need to rest after your long journey.’
Obedient to her unspoken wishes the others left Nicky to Nurse’s care and made their way back downstairs to the morning room.
‘I don’t like to think that he has been making a nuisance of himself.’ Reginald frowned. ‘When Coale told me he has been running free at Rooks Tower—’
‘Major Coale and his people are very happy to see him,’ said Zelah. ‘With everyone here so busy with the new baby, Nicky has been left too much to his own devices.’
Her words were met with a short silence. Then Maria sighed.
‘It is very true. Nurse has been giving all her attention to me and little Reginald and we were only too happy to think that Nicky was amusing himself in the garden.’ Her softly reproachful eyes moved to her husband. ‘And you have been out of the house so much recently …’
‘Trying to gather evidence for the villagers,’ he replied defensively. ‘I could hardly take the boy with me! I never thought—Nicky seemed quite happy.’ He gave Zelah a rueful smile. ‘No wonder he took to you so well, although looking after Nicky was not the reason you came to us. My poor sister, you have been with us for only a few weeks and we have turned you into a nursemaid.’
‘I am pleased to help, you know that, but Nicky needs companions of his own age,’ she said gently. ‘Or at the very least a tutor …’
‘But he is so young!’ Maria clasped her hands together. ‘I suppose I must stop thinking of him as a baby now.’ She brightened. ‘You are looking for a post as a governess, Zelah—perhaps you should start with Nicky. We could pay you—’
‘Dear sister, that is a kind thought, but that is not what I meant. And I could not take a salary off you; I have no wish to be an added drain upon your resources.’
Reginald shook his head.
‘No, it would not do at all. I believe Mr Netherby gives lessons to a few boys in the vicarage. I will make enquiries when I go into Lesserton this afternoon.’
Maria stretched out her hands to him. ‘Oh, must you go, with Nicky just come home …?’
He squeezed her fingers.
‘I’m afraid I must.’
‘What is this business that takes you there so often, Reginald?’ asked Zelah. ‘Is it something to do with Lydcombe Park? I remember you saying the new owner was causing difficulties.’
‘Aye. He is planning to open mines on his land.’
‘But surely that is a good thing,’ exclaimed Maria. ‘It will provide work—’
‘Not much. Evanshaw will be bringing in engineers and miners of his own. But the land he wants to mine is in dispute. The villagers believe it is theirs by ancient charter and have been using the land for years, grazing their animals on the hill as well as hunting in Prickett Wood. Sir Oswald claims it for his own and he has employed a bailiff, William Miller. A nasty piece of work who patrols the land with his henchmen.’
‘And is there nothing they can do?’
‘Those he has evicted are too poor to do anything themselves, but I have been organising the villagers. We have petitioned the Crown and put together a fund to pay for a lawyer to come to Lesserton and settle this once and for all.’
‘But can you not talk to Sir Oswald?’ said Zelah. ‘Surely he does not want to be on bad terms with his neighbours.’
Reginald shrugged. ‘I called upon him as soon as he took possession of the house on Lady Day, but he was not at all hospitable. I do not think he intends to live at Lydcombe. The house is merely a shell; everything of value in it has been sold. He told me he means to sell off the timber from his land and then sink his mine. He has no interest at all in the people.’
‘Then of course you must fight this,’ exclaimed Zelah. ‘I quite understand now why you are so busy. And please do not worry about Nicky, at least for the moment. I am very happy to help you look after him.’
Zelah went upstairs to relieve Nurse, satisfied that Maria and Reginald would find a solution to Nicky’s loneliness. Taking lessons at the vicarage would go a long way towards filling his days and would also provide him with the companionship of other boys. For the present, her concern was to keep him entertained while the deep gash on his leg healed.
The fine spring weather continued but Zelah was too busy to go out, dividing her day between Nicky and Maria, who was delighted to have her back and insisted that Zelah should sit with her whenever she could. It was therefore a full three days before she could find the time to enjoy the sunshine. She tied a straw bonnet over her brown curls, but declined her sister’s offer of a parasol, declaring that her complexion was past praying for.
Leaving the house by a side door, she set off across the grass at a very unladylike pace. It was good to be out in the fresh air again and she lifted her face up to the sun, revelling in its warmth. She walked briskly, enjoying the opportunity for a little quiet reflection.
She had been at West Barton for a month now and had made no progress in finding a position.
She could make excuses, of course. Maria had told her how helpful it was to have her there, looking after Nicky, but deep in her heart Zelah knew she did not want to dwindle into the role of favourite aunt, at everyone’s beck and call and willing to perform any little task in gratitude for being allowed to live with the family.
‘You are being very ungrateful,’ she said aloud. ‘A position as governess would be far from comfortable. Here you could more than earn your keep.’ She climbed over a stile and jumped lightly down. ‘But as a governess I would be paid!’
She strode on. What she wanted, she realised, was independence. If she was fortunate enough to find a good position, then it might be possible to save a little of her salary each year until she had enough to retire. That, of course, would take many, many years, but what else had she to look forward to?
Perhaps you should look for a husband.
Major Coale’s words came into her mind. She could almost hear his deep voice saying them.
A husband. That was the ambition of most young ladies, but it was not hers. Besides, no man would want her if he knew her past—and she could not consider marrying a man without telling him everything.
No, thought Zelah practically, she had only two choices: she could remain at West Barton, loved and valued at the present, but destined to become nothing more than a burdensome old maid, or she could make a bid for independence.
‘I choose independence,’ she said to a cow, regarding her balefully from