Page 21 of A Hint of Scandal (The Mismatched Lovers #2)

N eedless to say, neither Araminta nor Ogden were enamored of the dowager’s proposal to sweep their helpmate off to the country. However, in the presence of both the countess and her determined mother-in-law, all they could do was agree, stony-faced, to the arrangement. It was agreed with false smiles of pleasure, that Serafina would leave for Bratton Park in Wiltshire on the following day, in order to make the acquaintance of the earl himself and to be married in the family chapel. This last so the earl could himself attend his brother’s long-awaited nuptials.

On the return journey from Cavendish Square, neither Ogden nor Araminta spoke to Serafina about what had occurred at Westbury House. Perhaps they feared to air their views in the face of what now seemed certainty where the forthcoming marriage was concerned. They probably wouldn’t want to alienate the countess and her mother-in-law, now they’d established a connection with her family. However, once they’d returned to the house in Great Titchfield Street, a strong air of disapproval clung with steely determination to the very air, prompting Serafina to make herself conspicuous by her absence.

Letty came upstairs a little later to find Serafina packing for the journey that was to take place the following morning. “Well,” that young lady said, plumping herself down on her own bed and regarding her aunt with, it had to be said, open admiration. “If anyone had asked, I would never have guessed this outcome to my first Season in London.”

Serafina looked up from where she was carefully folding her threadbare linen. “Neither would I, if that’s any consolation.” She couldn’t help but smile at Letty, who at least seemed to have gotten over her annoyance at her coming wedding. If she was leaving her behind, then it would be preferable for her last memory of her to be a pleasant one.

Letty matched puzzled brows with a smile and a shrug. “To be upstaged by someone who looks like you do, though. Although I suppose he is only a younger brother… but of an earl, no less. I wish Mr. Talbot had a title.” She frowned a bit more. “Although I daresay he might be able to buy himself one with all the wealth he supposedly has. Like Lord Clive of India. He wasn’t nobly born, was he?”

Serafina, surprised by Letty’s sudden historical knowledge and unsure whether it was right to imply the late Lord Clive had bought his peerage, ignored the insult. Long experience had taught her that Letty didn’t mean her words to be hurtful even if that was how they came out. “I have to say that I agree with you. I didn’t for a moment imagine this would happen to me. I’m as surprised as everyone else.”

“And you’re going to visit the earl’s estate, where you’ll meet the earl himself, who Mama says is not at all well. And you’ll stay in their enormous house, which is the next best thing to being a castle. Indeed, Mama says it once was a castle. Of sorts.” There was about her voice a definite tinge of envy, even though she was being so friendly. She sighed, probably wishing that Mr. Talbot had a castle.

Serafina shrugged as well. “But I shan’t be living there once I’m married. Max, Captain Aubrey, will inherit his own estate and we will live there.” She smiled. “Have you managed to discover where Mr. Talbot’s house actually is?”

Letty frowned more deeply. “I have, and I’m a little dissatisfied. While it turns out that he owns a smart townhouse here in London, he told me he doesn’t see the point in having a house in the countryside. Because he’s not interested in country pursuits, and living here in London enables him to attend to his matters of business.” The frown vanished like a cloud revealing the sun. “I suppose, if I were to marry him, it would mean I should always be in Town where the best parties are, and the best dressmakers and young men to flirt with.” She paused. “If he offers for me, that is. He’s being such a slowcoach, I begin to suspect he just likes to be seen at the park with me, or at a ball. Perhaps he’s not after a wife at all.”

“There will always be plenty of other young men for girls as pretty as you,” Serafina said, as she laid her old gowns with infinite care into her trunk. “You are blessed with your good looks, you know. Whereas for me, only the one chance will ever come. A chance I truly never thought I’d have.”

Letty dimpled at the praise. “What do I care if Mr. Talbot never proposes? You’re quite right. I’m sure there are lots of other men who are more interesting and more handsome who will be happy to make me an offer. Younger men.” She fiddled with her hair. “It’s just that you have already received a most respectable offer, and that makes me nervous that I never will. I still can’t quite understand why you have had such success without even looking for it, while I, with all the callers I’ve had, all the admirers of my beauty, have so far received nothing but fine words. It’s most puzzling.” She wrinkled her nose and sighed, as baffled as only someone with such a high opinion of herself could be.

Serafina added her last gown to the trunk. “Perhaps you haven’t yet met the right man?”

Letty shrugged. “I suppose that’s possible…”

Serafina had to smile at her niece’s inability to contemplate anyone else receiving attention before her. “And when I’m gone to Wiltshire, please don’t forget all my advice. Do not encourage any men your mama says are rakes, nor those you yourself suspect of being so, exciting as they might appear. Do not push yourself forward, as nothing is more damaging to your reputation than being known as fast. You may flirt, but in moderation. And never be alone with any gentleman. That is completely forbidden to respectable young ladies.”

Letty sighed. “Yes, yes, I know all that. My life must be conducted in the most boring of ways. No need to keep reminding me.”

Yes there was, because her mother certainly wouldn’t be doing so. She would probably like nothing better than to force a titled and rich gentleman into marriage after her daughter had been compromised. A good thing she didn’t know she’d already been compromised by the stable boy. “I can’t help being anxious for you without me. I almost think I shouldn’t go.”

Letty’s face crinkled in thought. “I was thinking that too,” she said. “At first. But when I considered the matter more deeply, I decided that I mustn’t stand in your way. You may trust me to follow your instructions to the letter, Fina dear. And if Mr. Talbot can muster the courage to ask me, I shall accept his offer on condition that he buys me a house in the country, preferably in Wiltshire, so that you and I may call upon one another whenever we wish. A castle, I think, if he can find one. I wonder if there are plenty of them in that county?”

Serafina laughed. “Splendid. When I’m at Bratton Park, I shall await a letter from you announcing your engagement with bated breath.”

Letty bounced up and down on the bed. “It’s settled then. I shall be sad when you leave, but I shall also endeavor to be pleased for you.”

The drive down to Bratton Park was a long one, that could only be accomplished by a private carriage in a minimum of two days. Having broken the journey in the excellent hostelry of The George Inn in Reading, Badger, Max’s brother’s coachman, brought the carriage in through the impressive gates to Bratton Park just as the sun was setting on the second day of their journey.

Serafina, who’d passed the entire trip having to answer questions from the dowager about her father, was feeling more than a little jaded by this time. She’d managed to glean enough information from the old lady to work out for herself that her attachment to her father had been an emotional one. The dowager had been guarded, but her constant questions had given away a deep-seated sadness that endeared her to Serafina and made replying easy, if tiring. And a little melancholy, as some of the memories were ones she’d not taken out and studied for some time as they were too painful. Once or twice she and the dowager had shed a few tears together.

Max had accompanied them in the carriage, because, he told her, with only one arm such a long journey on horseback would have been difficult for him. From the wistful expression on his face, she guessed he would have preferred to have ridden, but with one arm, a journey of over eighty miles would have been too much. Knowing he was an ex-cavalryman, her heart went out to him, for riding would have been more congenial than being cooped up in a carriage for two long days, no matter how comfortable it was.

She would have relished the fresh air herself, despite there still being a chill left over from winter in the air. However, she’d not ridden since she was a child. Araminta had seen to the selling of her pony—“to pay for your keep.” Riding again after so long would probably not have been as comfortable as she hoped.

With the dowager in full flow and occupying all of Serafina’s attention, he’d contributed only a few short contributions to the conversation, and for the rest of the time sat quietly in his corner, a lot of the time with his eyes closed as though he were sleeping, although Serafina wondered if it was just a ruse to avoid having to talk.

Leaving the twin gatehouses behind them, the road wound up through woodland on either side, with here and there a track leading off to left or right between the trees. As they neared the top of the rise, the parkland opened up before them, stretching away towards a slight dip where the vast slated rooftops of the substantial building that was Bratton Castle glimmered in the pale wintry sunlight.

Serafina leaned forward in her seat to better peer out of the carriage window as they approached their destination, taking in the tree-lined avenue that led towards the front of the house, and the creamy-golden stonework of the facade. It was enormous, dwarfing Milford and making it appear a mere cottage in comparison.

She glanced at Max, to find him regarding her with a quizzical expression on his handsome face. He must, of course, be well used to living in such a place, although he’d been away much of his adult life in the army. Perhaps he didn’t take it for granted after all. “It’s magnificent,” she said, feeling as though some comment were warranted and wishing to distract herself from the fluttery feeling in her chest when he looked at her like this.

He nodded. “Too large for one family, I always think.”

His mother snorted. “Nonsense. A perfect size. You have the most bizarre opinions, Max, so please keep them to yourself.”

His eyes met Serafina’s, twinkling with amusement, and he winked. Was he deliberately baiting his mother? For a brief moment Serafina felt an almost irresistible urge to laugh, but managed to hold herself in check. It would never do to laugh at the dowager.

The carriage drew to a halt on the wide gravel forecourt of the house, in front of an imposing door that, even as the wheels ceased to turn, swung open to reveal not just a butler but two liveried footmen as well.

Luckily, the dowager didn’t seem to have noticed her son’s amusement. She laid a hand on Serafina’s. “Welcome to Bratton, my dear. I shall, of course, be staying here with you rather than returning to the Dower House in order to maintain propriety. Shall we go in so that you can meet my older son?”

Trying her best not to gawp and look like a country bumpkin in such hallowed surroundings, Serafina descended from the carriage and followed the dowager and Max inside the house, which was even more splendid on the inside than the out. The marble tiled entrance hall contained a wide, oak staircase leading to the floors above, and a stone archway led through into an enormous space that rose to a domed, ornately decorated ceiling where high, unreachable windows let in the light. All around the upper floor a balustrade ran, mirroring the ground floor arches, and decorated with stucco and coats of arms. Were they perhaps the coats of arms of other families the Aubrey’s were related to? Might one day her own coat of arms join them?

“This way,” the dowager said with confidence. “Upstairs. Julian will be in his library at this time of day. He always is.”

She was quite right. After mounting the stairs to the galleried landing, and passing through a wide doorway, they found the Earl of Westbury in residence in his library. But what a library. A slightly faded Turkish rug of epic proportions covered the wooden floor, and every wall, save of course for the long curtained windows, was covered in bookcases. At one end a cluster of comfortable chairs clustered welcomingly around a fireplace in which a fire blazed, and at the other, seated at an impressive dark oak desk, sat the man they sought.

It didn’t take much common sense to realize that Julian, Earl of Westbury, was not a well man. He sat at his desk in a red banyan and a gaudy turban over loose clothing that might have been his night attire. His countenance, bloated by what was probably excess water in his body, had a grayish tinge. Similarly bloated, and heavily ink stained, fingers rested on a book that lay on the table before him, and beside that lay an untidy pile of papers. The only vital thing about the man before Serafina was his eyes, bright and dark and not unlike Max’s. But they were the only part of him anything like his brother.

He made to rise out of his seat, his breath wheezing.

The dowager waved him back down. “Be seated, Julian. We come bearing glad tidings. Your brother has an announcement to make. He is betrothed.”

Julian Aubrey, Earl of Westbury looked past his mother and brother at Serafina, those brightly intelligent eyes studying her with open interest. “I take it you are the lady concerned?” he said, with a slight smile. His voice was thready, as though he didn’t have enough breath to give it volume. “I confess myself delighted to make your acquaintance. You will forgive me for not rising.”

Max, who had hung back, stepped forward. “Julian, I would like to introduce you to Miss Serafina Gilbert. We are to marry as soon as the banns have been called. Serafina, this is my brother, Julian.”

Leaning forward, Julian held out his hand to Serafina. When she set hers in his, he bent his turbaned head and kissed it. “Excellent. A wedding will give me something to look forward to. I have precious little like that at the moment.” He emitted a deep sigh. “My little brother is to marry.” His smile widened. “And you have brought her here to meet me. I am touched, Mama, by your consideration. And by yours, Max.” His eyes twinkled much as Max’s could do, making him suddenly appear much younger and giving him a fleeting look of his younger brother. He must once, before sickness had ravaged him, have been a handsome man.

Serafina made a respectful curtsy. “My lord.”

Julian sank back into his seat again, breathing heavily as though the effort had been too much for him. Absent mindedly he began to draw together the papers on his desk. “You find me employed in my study of Greek antiquities, Miss Gilbert. Please forgive me for not being able to be more welcoming.” He looked at Max, his eyebrows rising. “You never cease to astound me, little brother, as I clearly lacked enough faith in you. But may I offer you my hearty congratulations.”

Max nodded. “Thank you. I thought you’d be pleased.”

So Julian was party to Max’s reasons for offering marriage in such a hurry. He must be a very magnanimous older brother if he wanted to make sure Max inherited what would perhaps have otherwise been part of his own estate, and that he could have passed on to his own children. How many had Max said he had? Was it not two girls, Arabella being one of them, and two younger boys?

Julian smiled. “Now, pleasant as this tête-a-tête is, I can see Miss Gilbert is as fatigued as I am. If you ring the bell, Max, I’ll have Larkin show her to her room. Let it not be said that taxed as I am, I cannot offer a welcome to my brother’s intended.”

The dowager nodded her approval. “Shall we ask your valet to come and take you to your room for a rest?”

Julian bowed his head. “I feel that would be appropriate. I would have liked to dine with you this evening, to properly welcome Miss Gilbert into our family.” He coughed, his chest battling for breath. “But I fear I am too tired and I do not wish to be carried down the stairs this evening like a baby. I have my pride. I will dine in my room.”

Max moved towards him. “I can help you.”

But Julian shook his head. “With your one arm? No, brother, you’re as incapacitated as I am, nearly. And Rumbold knows my habits and needs far better than you do. No. You should escort Mama and Miss Gilbert to their rooms. Dinner can be delayed until seven tonight, to give the ladies time to prepare themselves. I would not want to be an inattentive host to a young lady who is about to become a member of my family.” He coughed again.

Max bowed to his brother. “And Larkin will have to provide Miss Gilbert with a maid as she was unable to bring hers with her.”

He was being very tactful in avoiding mentioning that she didn’t possess her own maid. Would that have shocked the dowager or the earl? Never having had the luxury of a maid of her own, Serafina had no idea.

As a butler, Larkin must have been trained to show no reaction no matter how odd the request made to him, and his face stayed impassive at the revelation that Serafina had arrived without a maid. Probably the servants all knew she was Max’s betrothed. Word like that would spread like the proverbial wildfire in a country house. Although it was most likely the driver, Badger, who’d told them. Or Max’s valet, Watkins, who had travelled in a second carriage with Mrs. Howard, the dowager’s housekeeper, her maid and the luggage, and gone to take care of it the moment they arrived. One of them at least was bound to have confided everything in the servants’ hall. Even at Milford, with its comparatively few servants, gossip was known there well before it arrived upstairs.

“The blue room, I think, sir,” Larkin said. “I’ll have Miss Gilbert’s luggage sent up immediately and inform Elsie that she is to be promoted to lady’s maid for the duration of her stay.”

Max turned back to Serafina. “Best to let Larkin decide which room, or he’ll get in a huff. Can’t disturb the smooth running of the house, and he’s the key to it. You’ll like the blue room. And I believe Elsie will make you a personable and useful maid.” He hesitated. “Perhaps you too would like to lie down for a while? As we’re not dining until seven, you might manage a short rest before dinner.”

Serafina bowed her head. After the long journey in which she’d had to entertain the dowager, followed by the overwhelming splendor of the house, a short rest would be wonderful.