Page 16 of A Hint of Scandal (The Mismatched Lovers #2)

T he journey back to Great Titchfield Street seemed to Serafina to take at least three times as long as their journey out had done. Having escorted her inside, Max took his leave, and she made haste to excuse herself from the parlor as suffering from a megrim. She made her way upstairs, leaden-footed with disappointment.

The empty bedroom, however, felt like the quiet haven of peace she’d been in search of. Sitting in the parlor with Araminta and Letty, and the lovesick young man who was still in residence, would have been intolerable. His obviously smitten expression coupled with Letty’s air of self-satisfaction would have been too much to bear.

Without bothering to remove her pelisse, she sat down on her bed and wrenched off her borrowed gloves. Was she, could she but bring herself to admit it, just a little bit jealous of Letty? The thought brought guilt flooding over her. Despite their two very different positions within the household at Milford, she’d never felt any jealousy towards Letty or her sisters and brothers. Yet now, here it was, raising its ugly green head in her heart.

Since Letty had been a rosy-cheeked baby, just learning to walk, and she’d been a motherless six-year-old orphan, there’d been an unbreakable bond between the two of them, although perhaps that bond was stronger from her side. With no mother to care for her, she’d showered her love onto the one creature who loved her back without question. Pretty little Letty, a child who’d been so easy to love and so willing to be loved. Letty’s younger brother Theodore had arrived much later, when the two girls had been ten and five, and although Serafina loved him and his three younger siblings, she cared for none of them as much as she cared for Letty.

And now she was feeling jealous of her beloved niece, a fact that proved disquieting in the extreme. Why would she suddenly feel like this? Perhaps because of all the eligible young men who were calling on Letty with nothing but love in their eyes. How ridiculous was that? It wasn’t as if she’d seen this trip to London as being anything other than centered around Letty and the requirement that she find a husband. And she’d known men would fall at Letty’s dainty feet as soon as she smiled at them, and that Letty would bask in their attention as though they owed it to her. She was that sort of girl, to whom everything came easily and who treated that luxury as an unassailable right.

No. She, Serafina, knew her place, and it was to wait upon the increasingly demanding Letty and make sure she married the right man. Because she loved her. And envied her… This last sentiment came as a surprising revelation she’d rather sweep under the rug and deny.

But she couldn’t. The ugly sentiment kept rearing its equally ugly head. And it was all because she’d met Max. His fault. She’d never for one moment expected to meet a gentleman she herself might like. Until she’d laid eyes on him.

And there she was admitting it to herself. The truth was, she wanted Max to look at her in the way men looked at Letty. Only he never would. She wanted Max to want to marry her because he loved her, not so that he could claim his inheritance. But no, she was nothing but a convenient step to gaining what he wanted. She was useful to a man who saw himself as unattractive to women. Because he thought she’d be grateful for the attention. Because she was plain and badly dressed and well past the first flush of youth. Because he felt sorry for her. And as for her, she was probably just suffering from an infatuation with the first man who’d ever shown her any interest. The first man who’d done anything for her. The first man she’d ever liked. That was it. She was ridiculously infatuated like a schoolgirl.

A tear trickled down her cheek, and she swiped it away with the back of her hand. Much good all Letty’s primping had done, even if it had proved that somewhere in Letty’s self-centered heart lurked a girl who could care for others. Although Letty might see the primping as having been a success. Max had offered for her, after all.

Another tear followed the first at the realization that what she truly wanted was the same romance in her life as Letty appeared to be receiving. She wanted someone to gaze into her eyes with open adoration and tell her they loved her. Before they asked for her hand in marriage. But that was never going to happen. No one was ever going to love her. She didn’t list the reasons again but they were there, nevertheless, lodged in her aching heart. No matter how infatuated she might become of any man, none of them would ever give her a second look. She just wasn’t falling in love material.

More tears ran down her cheeks, unheeded now. What hurt the most was the way being with Max made her feel, and knowing he didn’t reciprocate those feelings. She sniffed. She could never let him guess at how she felt. Never. It would be too humiliating. If she accepted his offer, she must maintain the illusion that she was accepting a business contract. That she was agreeing to be the means to him inheriting his estate. That was what he wanted and that would be what she would give him. She would lock this silly infatuation away in the deepest recesses of her soul and never take it out again. She would be what he’d said—sensible, educated, practical.

Where was her handkerchief? Unable to find it, she resorted to wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her pelisse, which reminded her she was still wearing her outdoor clothes. With rather shaky fingers she removed her bonnet and slipped out of her pelisse, laying them neatly on the bed beside her. With precise care, she laid Letty’s gloves on top of the pelisse.

The fact that she had allowed her thoughts to wander in the direction of acceptance of his offer brought a new shock. Was she so mercenary that she would resort to using him to escape her brother’s household? The money he professed to be about to inherit meant nothing to her, didn’t it? What did she care for pretty gowns and fancy carriages? What she’d never had she could do without. All she asked for was a fire in every room in winter and an end to the chilblains she’d grown so used to. Yes, if she had that she’d be content. And the infatuation would wane.

He’d promised more, as some kind of incentive, no doubt, but material wealth meant nothing to her. The memory of how she and Letty had laughed together as they’d listed the attributes required of a suitor, and how wealth had featured highly on that list. Bittersweet. That now, when her heart had engaged, if with reluctance, she had to acknowledge that it no longer seemed nearly so important. Nowhere near so important as fires in every room, and they came in at a poor second to being loved.

She heaved an unsteady breath just as the door burst open and Letty came bouncing in, as full of energy and enthusiastic good cheer as ever. She threw herself down on her own bed and bestowed a wide smile on Serafina. “What a day. I can’t believe how successful my debut in society has been.” She paused, head tilted to one side in a coquettish manner. “Well, I suppose I can. I knew I was pretty, of course, but knowing that yourself and having others say it to you, many times, are quite different things. And as so many of them have said it, I’m certain they must be right.”

Hidden by the gloom in the as yet unlit bedroom, Serafina pulled herself together with a huge effort and nodded. “Of course they are right, dear Letty. You are quite the prettiest girl of the Season, as far as I can tell from just the one ball we’ve attended. And I’m sure also that you’re the most successful. You deserve to be.” Only this time when she said it, a little voice nagged at her asking why Letty should get all this praise heaped on her just for the way nature had favored her. Not a thought that had ever crossed Serafina’s mind before. Not until she’d discovered jealousy, that was.

Might Max have professed some kind of love for her had she been as beautiful as Letty?

Letty’s pretty face took on a smug expression that wasn’t all that attractive. Better warn her not to let slip that look while there were gentlemen around, nor at the next ball they were to attend, which she remembered with a start was tomorrow night. They might get the wrong idea. However, she couldn’t bring herself to point this out just now. “Did your Mr. Talbot return?”

Letty’s face lit up. “He did indeed. I was so pleased to see him. Mama says he is the one I should encourage, on account of his enormous fortune, and also because as yet no one properly titled has shown any interest in me. She says there aren’t any available dukes as there are so few of them in the whole of England. Which is most annoying.” She giggled. “Although there is one, she says, the Duke of Dunbar, but he’s very old—older by far than Mr. Talbot—and a widower with children older than Mama herself. And he walks with a stick and has white hair.” She paused, her brow wrinkling. “Mama told me she would have considered him had he not already been provided with a son and heir and grandchildren by his first and second wives. I’m quite glad he has been, to be honest, as I don’t fancy being married to someone that old.”

How like Letty not to notice someone else’s distress, although the room was growing gloomier by the minute as evening fell outside. However, it gave Serafina the chance to regain her self-control. There would be no point in sharing her own doubts and fears with Letty. The feelings of someone else had never mattered to her self-centered niece. She cleared her throat. “I must say that I too am glad your mama has dismissed this elderly duke from her list of possible candidates for your hand.” She managed a smile. “Although whether he would have been in agreement had she decided you should set your cap at him, I have no idea.”

Letty chuckled. “Before Mama’s determination, I fear he would have been putty in her hands. Unable to resist.” She paused and patted her curls, as she was wont to do when thinking about her looks. “And of course, once he’d seen me…”

“A lucky escape,” Serafina said, trying hard to keep the irony out of her voice. “For you and him.”

Letty rose to her feet. “But it’s almost dinner and neither of us are changed. Come, Fina, and you can help me choose a pretty gown to wear and do my hair for me.”

Serafina heaved a sigh and, pushing all thoughts of matrimony out of her head, if with a little difficulty, as they steadfastly wanted to remain, rose to her feet. She would concentrate on Letty, and how best to ensure her mama didn’t marry her off to someone in his dotage, just for a title, and not think about Max at all.

After Max had bid goodbye to a silent and subdued Serafina, Badger drove him home in the barouche. Back to Cavendish Square, that was. His aim had been to sneak inside and upstairs to his room, where he could ruminate on the unexpected reaction of Serafina to his proposal, much as she was doing in Great Titchfield Street. However, Maria happened to be in the hallway outside the parlor and she hailed him as though she’d not seen him for weeks.

“Max, wherever have you been? I had a letter from Julian this morning and he specifically mentioned you in it.”

Uh oh. Max had a good idea in what context. He made a polite bow to the countess. “I’ve been out driving in the park. Or rather, Badger has. I was just the passenger. Of course.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Oh? By yourself?” This remark was made with the implication that of course he’d not been alone and he ought to admit this to her straightaway or she’d tease it out of him.

Max steeled himself. He might as well grasp the bull by the horns and tell her. She’d give him no peace if he didn’t. “With Miss Gilbert.”

Maria’s expression brimmed with triumph. “How lovely. And how is she? Shall I issue an invitation for her and Lady Gilbert to call for tea?”

Max gave a determined shake of his head. “Please don’t. I doubt you’d find Lady Gilbert good company, and I fear to do so would be to play into her hands, as by her demeanor each time I call, it appears she would like nothing better to be on friendly terms with an earl and a countess. Or at least a countess, as Julian is not here.”

“But Miss Gilbert is not like that, I trust?”

Why were women always so nosy? If he’d gone to his club instead, none of the men there would have asked him a single question about how he’d spent his afternoon. “No,” he said in a tone that indicated, he hoped, his desire to end the conversation here. “She is made of different materials to her sister-in-law, thank goodness.”

Maria opened her mouth for another question.

Max held up his hand. “I need to go and change for dinner, Maria. It takes me longer than it did, on account of my arm, and I wouldn’t want to keep the family waiting.” The one thing he didn’t want to have to disclose was Serafina’s obvious lack of enthusiasm for his marriage proposal. If she decided to refuse him, he didn’t want anyone to know he’d even asked. It was bad enough having one’s ego knocked without having one’s family know that it had happened. So the less Maria knew about Serafina, the better.

Maria’s face betrayed her disappointment at failing to glean any further information on his outing with that young lady. “Very well. Shall I ring for Watkins and send him up to you?”

“Thank you.” And with that, Max hurried up the stairs out of her way.

Watkins joined him a few minutes later, puffing a little as though he’d been running.

If he was going to share his predicament with anyone, it would be with the sensible Watkins, who could be relied upon to keep it to himself. His valet was several years his senior, and, having traveled extensively while in the army, probably would have described himself as a man of the world. He’d been known to share details of his amorous past with his master on a number of occasions. Mostly around campfires in Portugal and Spain, it had to be admitted, when differences of class had seemed far away and unimportant. But nevertheless, that easy camaraderie still existed between the two of them, and Watkins had on occasion corrected Max when needed.

Watkins pulled Max’s boots off for him, revealing his thinning hair and a burgeoning bald spot as he bent.

Max stretched his legs. “Watkins…”

The valet was slipping the trees into the boots. “Yes, Captain?”

Max bit his lip. “You’re a man who knows women, are you not?”

Watkins had the grace to blush. “I like to think I am, sir.” He came to help Max out of his coat. “A clean shirt and cravat, sir?”

Max nodded. “Might I ask you a rather awkward question?”

Watkins brushed imaginary dust from the coat. “Of course you may, sir.”

“Have you ever proposed to a girl?”

Watkins’ bushy eyebrows rose. “As a matter of fact, I have. A long time ago.”

Max pulled at his cravat and failed miserably to get it undone. Watkins came to his aid. “And did she answer in the affirmative?”

Watkins undid the top buttons of Max’s shirt. “She did indeed, sir. And we were married forthwith, once the banns had been called.”

This was news indeed to Max. Watkins had never mentioned a wife in all the time he’d known him, and if he had one now, he was keeping her well hidden. “Did she give you her answer straightaway?”

A faraway look came into Watkins’s eyes. “She did, sir. She said yes straightaway. And we was married, like I said, as soon as the banns had been read. Happiest day of my life.”

So Watkins’s mysterious wife had known her mind immediately, and had in fact been in such a hurry they’d waited only the requisite three weeks to wed. What had he done wrong that Watkins had clearly done right?

Max rubbed his chin, which had grown stubbly during the day, uncomfortable at this catechism to which he was subjecting poor Watkins. “And did you love her?”

Watkins, who seemed not in the least bit uncomfortable, nodded. “I did, sir. I loved her with all my heart.” The sincerity of his words rang true.

Max wriggled out of his dirty shirt, with Watkins’ help. Damn this arm. “Might I ask where she is now?”

Watkins had the clean shirt ready. He helped Max into it before he replied, his voice solemn. “I was already in the army, you must understand. As you know, I joined up as a boy. I was home on leave when we decided to marry. We’d been sweethearts before I joined up. We married and had a few weeks together before I had to rejoin the regiment.” He cleared his throat. “While I was gone, she caught the typhus fever. I never saw her again.”

Max stared at his valet, a man who’d served him for nearly ten years, but who’d never revealed how he’d been married and widowed. “I’m sorry, Watkins. I feel this is something I should have known about you.”

Watkins shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry about, Captain. Weren’t your fault she caught the typhus fever. No one could’ve prevented it. Things like that just happen. But for a short while, she were mine, and we was happy. I’ve got that here.” He patted his chest. “In my heart forever. I gets it out from time to time and it’s still all warm and fresh, despite all the other women I’ve had doings with since then.”

Max fell silent as Watkins helped him into his breeches and a fresh cravat. At last, attired suitably for dinner with the family, and his arm back in its sling, he turned to Watkins. “I wanted you to know, as I can trust you not to tell anyone else, that today I made an offer of marriage to a lady.”

Watkins’s eyes widened in genuine surprise before a gleam of pleasure lit them. “You did, sir? Please accept my congratulations, sir. I’m very pleased for you. Indeed I am.”

Max shook his head. “That, I’m afraid, is not all. She hasn’t given me an answer yet.”

Watkins shrugged. “I’m sure she’s just overwhelmed by your proposal, sir. Women, I mean young ladies, seem inclined to fits of the vapors when emotional. And I gather they’re also fond of keeping gentlemen dancing on strings.”

Max shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that, Watkins. I fear I’ve messed up my proposal and now she thinks I’ve made it just because I need my inheritance.”

Watkins’s eyes sharpened. He knew all about the details of the old earl’s will. “Forgive me for asking, sir, but was it indeed only because of the inheritance that you made the proposal?”

Max compressed his lips, suddenly unwilling to admit the truth even to Watkins. If it was the truth. “Well, in a way I suppose it was. But I like the girl. I think we could rub along together well enough. I wouldn’t have asked just anyone. She’s not a vapid miss. She possesses a keen intellect.”

Watkins smiled. “And am I to presume that because you’re telling me all this, you require my advice?”

Max nodded. “I do. You’re a sensible man and we’ve known each other a long time. You’ve been married, even though I didn’t realize it. I value your wisdom.”

Watkins sighed. “In my experience, Captain, a girl likes some romance in her life. Your young lady might not be a ‘vapid miss,’ as you say, and in possession of a keen intellect, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t dreamed of true love. Did you, might I ask, inform her of the conditions of your father’s will at the time of your proposal?”

Max nodded. “In the interest of honesty, I did. Full disclosure. I didn’t want her to be ignorant of it.”

Watkins shook his head, possibly in exasperation. “Perhaps not such a good idea. Honesty has its place, and I find in dealing with women—ladies—it is a somewhat unnecessary trait. Women like to hear what they want you to say, not what you want to say.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t have told her why I have to marry?”

“I am, sir.”

Max ruminated for a few seconds. “Damnit. I think I might have messed up.”

Watkins flicked a speck of dust from Max’s shoulder. “I think perhaps we might be able to undo your mistake. Go down to dinner and give me time to think about this.”

Max sighed. “If you can get me out of this spot, then you’re a miracle worker.”