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 lapsed into silence. Nicky was at last in a deep sleep, his little hand still clasped in the major’s long lean fingers. Silence enveloped them. At length the major became aware of Zelah’s presence and turned to look at her. She realised then her cheeks were wet with tears.
‘I—I beg your pardon.’ Quickly she turned away, pulling out her handkerchief. ‘You have been most obliging, Major Coale, more than we had any right to expect.’ She wiped her eyes, trying to speak normally. ‘Nicky is sleeping now. We do not need to trouble you any longer.’
‘And what will you do?’
‘I shall sit with him …’
He shook his head.
‘You cannot sit up all night. I will watch over him for a few hours while you get some sleep.’
Zelah wavered. She was bone-weary, but she was loath to put herself even deeper in this man’s debt. He gave an exasperated sigh.
‘Go and lie down,’ he ordered her. ‘You will not be fit to look after the boy in the morning if you do not get some sleep.’
He was right. Zelah retired to the little anteroom. She did not undress, merely removed her shoes and stretched out on the bed, pulling a single blanket over her. Her last waking thought was that it would be impossible to sleep with Major Coale sitting in the next room.
Zelah was awoken by a cock crowing. It was light, but the sun had not yet risen. She stared at the unfamiliar surroundings, then, as memory returned, she slipped off the bed and crept into the next room. Nicky was still sleeping soundly and the major was slumped forwards over the bed, his shaggy dark head on his arms.
The fire had died and the morning air was very chill. Noiselessly Zelah crossed the room and knelt down by the hearth.
‘What are you doing?’
The major’s deep voice made her jump.
‘I am going to rescue the fire.’
‘Oh, no, you are not. I will send up a servant to see to that.’
He towered over her, hand outstretched. She allowed him to help her up, trying to ignore the tingle that shot through her at his touch. It frightened her. His presence filled the room, it was disturbing, suffocating, and she stepped away, searching for something to break the uneasy silence.
‘I—um—the story you told Nicky, about your wound. It was very … violent for a little boy. He seemed quite familiar with it.’
‘Yes. He asked me about my face the very first time he saw me and has wanted me to recount the story regularly ever since.’ He was watching the sleeping boy, the smile tugging at his lips just visible through the black beard. ‘I was working in the woods and he came up, offered to help me finish off the game pie Mrs Graddon had packed into my bag to sustain me through the day.’
‘You must have thought him very impertinent.’
‘Not at all. His honesty was very refreshing. Most people look away, embarrassed by my disfigurement.’
‘Oh,