Zelah shook her head vehemently. ‘No, no, I am sure you must have more important things to do.’
‘As a matter of fact I don’t. Sawley noticed that one of the horses has a shoe loose and he is now at the smithy, so I was coming to say if you do not mind waiting a half-hour or so I would take you back to West Barton.’
‘You would take us up in your curricle?’ demanded Nicky, his eyes wide. ‘In your racing curricle?’
‘I only have the one, I’m afraid, but it is perfectly safe, as your aunt will testify.’
‘That is very kind of you, I’m sure, Major Coale,’ said Zelah, realising it would be cruel to withhold such a treat from Nicky. ‘However, there is no need for you to accompany us on our walk.’
‘But Major Coale wants to come with us, don’t you, sir?’
‘I do indeed.’
Zelah looked helplessly from one to the other. Major Coale held out his arm to her.
‘Shall we proceed?’
There was no help for it. She laid her hand on the major’s sleeve.
‘Maria told me about the woods,’ she explained as they followed Nicky along the lane that led out of the village. ‘She said the bluebells are a picture, but for only a short time each year. I do hope we won’t be too late, we are well into May now.’
‘We shall soon find out.’
Nicky had scrambled over a stile and the major followed, turning back to help Zelah.
‘Careful, there is a ditch on this side and it is a little muddy.’
As Zelah stepped over he reached out and lifted her, putting her down well away from the muddy puddle at the foot of the stile. A hot, fiery blush spread through her, from her head right down to her toes. Whether it was his hands on her waist, or the feeling of helplessness as he held her she did not know and, what was worse, she instinctively gripped his arms, so that when he had placed her on the ground he could not immediately release her, but stood looking down at her with a smile lurking in his grey eyes.
‘Are you ready to go on, Miss Pentewan?’
She swallowed. So many new and shocking sensations were coursing through her that she could not think. Her hands were still clutching at his sleeves and, instead of letting go, she wanted to hold on even tighter. It took all her willpower to release him and to step back.
‘Y-you startled me,’ she stammered. ‘I could quite easily have climbed over by myself …’
‘I’m sure you could, but my way was much more pleasurable, don’t you think?’
His self-possession annoyed her.
‘Are you trying to flirt with me, Major Coale?’
‘Do you know, I think I am.’ He laughed.
‘How strange. I used to do it all the time before that damned chasseur tried to cut my face off. I beg your pardon, it was unwittingly done.’
Disarmed by his response, her anger melted away and she chuckled.
‘That has pricked the bubble of my self-esteem! What an abominable thing to say.’
‘Not at all. It was, in a way, a compliment. I have not felt so at ease in anyone’s company since I came back to England.’
‘Then I will take it as such, sir.’
She met his eyes, responding to the warm smile in his own and forgetful of everything else until he looked away.
‘Nicky is almost out of sight. Shall we continue? Else I fear he will abandon us and we will be left to wander these woods all night.’
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