Free The Sergeant Major's Daughter by Sheila Walsh Page A

his own son. She was not long finding out.
    “Geoffrey! What goes on here?”
    Felicity swung around—and stared. If there had been time to form some picture in her mind of the boy’s father, she would have been sadly out. Captain Hardman was short in stature; his stirrup leathers had been taken up to a point that made his feet stick out ludicrously from the horse’s belly and he had the kind of figure which defied all the attempts of his tailor to pass him off as a gentleman. Felicity had the illusion that it must be the tightness of his cravat which accounted for his unhealthy pallor—and caused the pale blue eyes to bulge.
    But it was the voice which surprised her most—an overlight voice for a man—stilted, expressionless, and unaccountably chilling.
    “You are trespassing, madam.”
    The boy shot a look of smug malevolence. “Yes, Father—she is—she is! And she has taken away my whip. Make her give it back!”
    The pale eyes unhurriedly assessed the scene and came finally to rest on Felicity. She repressed an involuntary desire to shiver.
    “Well, madam?”
    “I had little choice, sir. Your son was beating this poor wretched animal until its screams could be heard from the road. I came to investigate.”
    “You are new here, I think. Your name?”
    “Vale, sir. Miss Felicity Vale.”
    Something flickered for a moment in his eyes and was gone. The boy gazed at her with renewed interest.
    “She’s the schoolmarm, Father! The one you said...”
    “Be silent, Geoffrey.” There was no raising of the voice—no noticeable change of emphasis—yet the boy shrank a little. “Go back to the house and take that ... creature with you. Give it to Masterson to treat or we shall have the flies feeding off its sores.”
    His callous indifference infuriated Felicity.
    “I was only doing what you said,” the boy muttered. “ Titus refused to come to heel—and I punished him.”
    “ I will hear your explanations later. Do as you are bid or Titus will not be alone in his punishment.”
    The boy untied the dog and slunk away, dragging it, whimpering, at his heels.
    The Captain waited until all sound had died away.
    “Come here!”
    Felicity bristled. “Certainly not. I have nothing to say to you, save that I deplore your callousness and its inevitable consequences upon your son. I bid you good day.”
    She swept around on her heel, but the thin voice came again.
    “You are on my land, madam — and will remain until I give you leave to go. Furthermore, I want none of your highty-tighty schoolroom airs. Now, come here.”
    It was hard to explain why she complied. She told herself it would be politic to humor him, but that reasoning took no account of the trembling in her legs.
    Captain Hardman still held his son’s whip. He leaned forward, allowing the lash to brush Felicity’s cheek. She set her teeth and glared up at him, meeting a contemptuous, flicking appraisal which was reflected in his next words.
    “I should not have thought you a stupid woman, Miss Vale—yet you seem bent upon behaving foolishly in all manner of directions. That Graham woman, for instance. Your friendship with her can do you nothing but harm. Pray—do not interrupt!” he snapped with sudden venom as she opened her mouth to protest.
    “And then we come to this school of yours. It does not please me, madam; had I not been away on business it would not have gone thus far unchallenged. If you are wise, you will abandon the project and return whence you came.”
    Indignation was coursing through Felicity’s blood, sweeping caution aside. “You are not only insolent, Captain, you are also ill-informed! The school ‘project,’ as you term it, is not mine to abandon. You must address yourself to Lord Stayne.”
    The whip jerked just sufficiently to flick her cheek. “Oh, I shall do so, madam—I mean to make it plain that there will be no foolish notions fostered amongst my workers here. The more ignorant they remain, the better it