Page 24 of A Hint of Scandal (The Mismatched Lovers #2)

“D id you manage to ask your brother which church he was married in?” Serafina asked Max at breakfast. They were the only ones present save for a footman, but she kept her voice as low as possible, all the same.

Max, who was in the process of picking at a plateful of unappetizing devilled kidneys, nodded, his gaze flicking sideways towards the expressionless footman where he stood beside the breakfast buffet. “I did. We can talk about this later. When we’re alone.”

Serafina nodded back in understanding. If the servants picked up on any of this then it would fly around not just this estate but probably all the surrounding ones as well. That didn’t bear thinking about, especially as a little voice at the back of her mind was busy warning her that none of this rang quite true. Something about it wasn’t right, she was almost sure, but as yet she had no idea quite what. Hopefully, that would be made clearer as their investigations progressed. She returned to picking at the scrambled eggs and bacon she’d helped herself to from the huge variety of breakfast alternatives on offer in as desultory a way as Max was with the kidneys. She didn’t quite have the appetite for food.

Elsie, her newly acquired maid, was over the moon when Serafina informed her they were to make a trip to Oxford that day, and that she would have to come too. “Ooh, Miss, I’ve always wanted to see Oxford and them smart buildings, but never been. I’ve not been nowhere really, to tell the truth. I’m that excited.”

Serafina smiled at this double negative and pondered how she would manage to talk in private with Max with the voluble Elsie in tow. There must be a way to avoid this. She frowned. They might be about to be married, but it would not be the done thing to undertake this journey with just Max and his driver, especially as it would be necessary to spend a night in an Oxford hostelry. Whereas driving alone with Max had been acceptable in Town, in an open carriage, it would not be in the countryside in an enclosed vehicle.

Inspiration came to her as she and her maid descended the stairs into the hallway, Elsie hauling a bag for each of them. “If you want to see more of the countryside, Elsie, you may travel with Badger on the front seat. So you’d best be wrapped up warm as it’ll be cold.”

Elsie’s face lit up. “That’d be a rare treat, Miss. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Serafina shook her head. “Not in the least. It’s a fine day and you’ll get to see all sorts of things, I’m sure. I refuse to stand in the way of your education.”

Max, waiting in the hall attired in great coat, hat and boots, smothered a smile. “Neatly done,” he muttered to her as they stepped out of the large front door and onto the front steps. Below them, drawn up on the gravel, stood a landau drawn by four perfectly matched grays, both hoods of the vehicle in the up position.

She couldn’t help but comment. “What beautiful matched horses.”

Max smiled, a touch of pride in his dark eyes. “My brother has always had a penchant for good horseflesh.” And he handed her up into the luxuriantly upholstered interior. This was how the other half lived. Araminta would be frowning at the extravagance of the whole equipage, particularly for a man who was housebound, but she would nevertheless have been almost overcome with envy. Let her be. Serafina had no intention of dwelling on what her sister-in-law would be thinking. Today she was going to enjoy herself being useful to the man she was rapidly beginning to think she cared a lot for. If she couldn’t have him care for her back, then she would accept his admiration, and the surest way to that was by helping him with this enormous problem.

He settled himself beside her on the forward facing seats and as soon as Elsie had been helped onto the seat beside Badger, the carriage moved off.

Serafina peeped out of the window at the wide expanse of parkland they had to cross before sinking back into her comfortable seat and turning to look at Max. “You said you’d tell me later.”

He was looking particularly dashing this morning, with his dark hair tousled and his eyes bright with anticipation. If only he could be wearing that expression because of her. “I did, but we’d best keep our voices down even though we’re alone.” He glanced out of the window as though gathering his thoughts. “I saw my brother this morning before breakfast. He was a little improved, perhaps because he thinks I might be able to get him out of this mess. I can only think his brain must be as addled as it was when he bigamously married Maria, knowing full well he shouldn’t be doing so. If this comes out, he would risk jail, or even transportation if he were not at death’s door.”

Max seemed to still be convinced of the veracity of this claimant. Serafina ignored most of what he’d said. “Which church do we need to find, then?”

“Saint Michael’s at the North Gate. I was up at Oxford myself before taking up my commission, and I know where it is. It lies where the old north gate used to stand in Oxford’s city walls. An ancient church but one much frequented by undergraduates seeking to marry, so I understand. Or that’s what Julian told me. Without a hint of shame about him.”

“We must go there first,” Serafina said, resigning herself to being the chief investigator in this affair. “And verify if a marriage truly took place.” She paused. “It’s possible your brother thought it a marriage when it might not have been a true one.”

Max’s brow unfurrowed. “I doubt it, but we can hope you’re right. He seemed sure a real priest had married them, and he’d only told the lie to the girl to rid himself of her.”

The carriage rumbled down the drive towards the twin gatehouses.

Serafina kept her gaze on Max. Not a difficult thing to do. “Where does your mother think we’re going today?” At least the dowager had not been up for breakfast so she’d not had to face her and tell the old lady a bare-faced lie.

A brief smile lit his face, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “To visit friends of mine. The Callingtons. I told her we might stay the night. She was very annoyed as she wishes to lavish the attentions of her dressmakers on you to equip you for this hasty marriage. I fear she was feeling frustrated.”

“She will not think it rude of me to depart so precipitously? I wouldn’t want to offend her.”

He shrugged. “You won’t. She’ll blame it all on me. And who knows? We might find a trail to follow in Oxford and our return might be delayed for a second night.”

He might have told her this before they left. “I’ve only brought luggage for one night, as has Elsie.”

Another shrug, as though this rather important point didn’t matter. “As have I. If it becomes necessary, we’ll manage.” Elsie might find it a bit odd though.

They rumbled on for a few minutes in silence. From up above, came the indistinct hum of chatter, mainly by the sound of it from Elsie. She must be enjoying her sojourn into the big wide world. “Would you mind if I asked you about your time in Portugal?” Serafina said. “You’ve told me about Egypt, and now, as I’m to marry you, perhaps you’ll tell me how you came to lose the use of your arm.” A little daring, but she was curious.

He rubbed his freshly shaven chin. “How much do you know of the Peninsular War?”

At least he didn’t seem offended by her blunt curiosity. “Not a huge amount. Ogden has the Times every day, but he never lets me read it. Only what I’ve heard mentioned when I’ve been to church. When we’ve prayed for our soldiers.” She frowned. “We lead… led… a very reclusive life at Milford and attending church was one of the only times I was able to meet other people.”

“Good God. They kept you incarcerated? I surmised from what you’ve told me, and how Sir Ogden and Lady Gilbert behave towards you, that they don’t consider you of any importance, but I had no idea they kept you shut away.”

She shook her head, managing a little chuckle. “Pray don’t think that they did that only to me. No one except Ogden goes anywhere while at Milford. As I said, only church. So not only I, but poor Letty as well, has been kept very much away from society.”

“No balls?”

“Very few, and neither she nor I were allowed to attend. She was too young, of course, and I was considered… as you say, unimportant. Letty’s brothers and sisters were too young to feel the lack of social life and have a governess so no need to go to school. Perhaps that accounts for how Letty has seized upon the Season’s events with such gusto.”

“I had noticed.”

“Don’t think badly of her. She cannot help the way she’s been brought up. She’s a lovely girl, really. Blame her parents for allowing her to be so selfish and demanding.”

“Only of you, I imagine.”

“Perhaps. But I love her, Max, so I excuse her because I know she knows no better. And she can be very kind.” She shook her head. “But what about Portugal? You started to tell me before we were sidetracked.”

He smiled, and her heart did a little uncontrollable flip. Sitting this close to him she could smell the musky masculine scent he must have applied this morning and it was almost too much to bear.

“Do you want me to start at the beginning? We have a long journey to make and it might pass the time.” To her nod, he continued. “I was a captain in the 20 th Light Dragoons, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Charles Taylor, and last year we were sent out from England to Portugal to reinforce Sir Arthur Wellesley’s army. Our squadron joined with the rest of our men who’d been in South America, in Maidstone in Kent, while we waited embarkation orders.”

Never having had the opportunity to speak with a soldier, Serafina listened with interest as he spoke of his former life. She could, she realized, keeping her smile hidden, have listened to him reciting a list of imports and exports, or a shopping list. So listening to him speak of something close to his heart was no trouble at all. “Go on,” she said in encouragement, in case he might think her bored by his talk of manly things.

He rewarded her with a smile. “In the end four troops left for the Peninsular. Thirteen of us officers, three-hundred-and-sixty-eight men and two-hundred-and-fifteen horses. Sir Arthur, our Lieutenant General, had shipped from Cork with eleven-thousand men and was joined by four-thousand from Gibraltar, in Mondego Bay.” He eyed her a little suspiciously. “I’m not boring you, am I?”

She shook her head with vigor. “No. Not at all. Go on. I’m finding this very interesting.”

“It’s just that I’ve never met a lady who was interested in the affairs of war.”

She smiled. “Well, you have now.”

He returned her smile, once again making her heart do that delightful flutter and this time her stomach turned to water. Good heavens. She must make sure she hid the way she was feeling lest it unsettled her betrothed. After all, he wanted this to be a marriage based strictly on business. Didn’t he?

He cleared his throat. “They were reinforced by a squadron of the Lisbon Mounted Police, so with our cavalry included, we were quite a formidable army. Our first battle was at Rolica on the 17 th of August, although we cavalry weren’t involved as the ground was unsuitable for a charge.”

Serafina watched his mouth as he spoke, finding it more and more difficult to concentrate on what he was saying by the minute. Perhaps she ought to go and sit in one of the rear facing seats opposite, just for the sake of her equilibrium. A fine sheen of moisture covered his brow, even though it wasn’t warm in the carriage. Might he be sickening for something?

“So what happened next?” she asked, determined to distance herself from how terribly distracting his presence so close beside her was. When she’d agreed to this trip, she hadn’t taken into account in how close a proximity they might have to be. For a long period of time. Hadn’t he said Oxford lay thirty miles off? How fast could horses go? No more than six miles per hour would be five hours. There and back. And they were to stay the night somewhere. Of course, having her maid would make that acceptable, but nevertheless…

“The French retreated, covered by their cavalry who were more numerous than ours, so we were still not put into the field. Then, a few days later, we took up position at a village called Vimeiro, near the mouth of the river Maceira, to allow two brigades of reinforcements to disembark.” He paused, a heavy frown on his face. “And with it came Sir Harry Burrard who outranked Sir Arthur—an arrival which turned out not to be a good thing.”

They had left the park well behind now and the carriage was rumbling down a narrow lane, the horses maintaining a spanking trot that made the scenery fairly rush past the window. Perhaps they’d arrive in Oxford sooner than she’d thought. “Why was that a bad thing?”

“Because he took over from Wellesley, a man of far greater experience than Burrard. We, the 20 th , were bivouacked on Vimeiro Hill, watching out for the French advance from Torres Vedras, with the rest of Sir Arthur’s army hidden behind two ridges to the north of the hill. We were in the valley with the village on our right. The French arrived and battle commenced.” His eyes took on a faraway look, as though he were seeing that battle again. Not something Serafina could come anywhere close to imagining.

“Then what? Did you fight them?”

He shook his head. “Not us. Not at first. We were left to stand and wait as our infantry met theirs.” He shook his head. “The frustration of standing idle while you see the battle going on is something I can’t explain. We all wanted to be at them, but even though Colonel Taylor rode up the hill to plead for us to go into battle, Brigadier Fane refused.”

Frustration was something Serafina could comprehend, so she nodded. Although not of the type a soldier might feel in battle. “Then what happened?” He must have been in the battle eventually, in order to have been injured.

“At last Fane shouted to us, ‘Now we want you, 20 th ! Forward and charge! And show them what you are made of.’ Those were his exact words. We needed no other command. Every horse was fighting for its head, each man was keyed up for the charge. We galloped up the slope to the sound of cheers from the rest of the army and in columns of half-squadrons, with the Lisbon Policemen on either flank, we charged at the French grenadiers.” His eyes were alight now and a real passion filled his voice. This was something he remembered with pride, even though he’d been wounded. Serafina felt her own heart, already deeply embroiled, begin to quicken. He told a good story.

“The Grenadiers were in retreat, and we galloped through them and out the other side to find we were facing over a thousand of the enemy’s cavalry—Dragoons and Chasseurs. We ploughed into them, as well, our swords cutting and hacking until they broke and bolted in every direction.” He shook his head and chuckled. “The trouble with a charging cavalryman and his horse, is that they don’t know when to stop. The light of battle seizes you, and your horse is like a galloper in the Derby, hooves flying across the ground. Out of control of our Colonel now, we kept on going in pursuit of the enemy. In fact, our Colonel was in the lead, so I doubt if he wanted to stop either.” He shook his head again. “Unfortunately for him, someone shot him dead. But it was an honorable death. A soldier’s death. Serving his king and country.”

That faraway look was back in his eyes. Would he have preferred to have died a soldier’s death himself, instead of having to return to Britain, wounded? That anyone might think like that had never occurred to Serafina before, and her heart went out to him. If she could do nothing else, she determined to make him happy.

“We ended up in a field, surrounded by the enemy, which was when I took a musket ball in my shoulder. It nearly knocked me from my horse, but I had my soldier servant with me, Watkins, who’s my valet now, and he kept me upright. I thought we’d all be killed for our recklessness, but we were saved by the intervention of the 50 th . As for those Portuguese Policemen—they were spotless while we were drenched in blood—ours and our enemies’. Those cowardly bastards hadn’t lifted a finger to help us. Sorry. I shouldn’t have used that word, but…’

“That’s quite all right. I think you were justified. I’m not shocked, have no fear. I’m not easily shockable.”

“We lost fifty-five men, including our colonel, and some were missing but rejoined us later. Those ungrateful locals, whom we were defending from the French, stripped our colonel’s body naked. So not such a glorious death as it might have been.”

“But you won?”

He nodded. “We did, but that idiot Burrard didn’t allow our Sir Arthur to follow up on our success. Not that I could have joined in. By then I was in a hospital tent. Instead, they allowed the whole French army to take transport back to France. Taken by our own navy, no less. Along with all their loot and guns and equipment. That’s not how to fight a war and I think the powers that be have realized. I believe Sir Arthur’s back in charge in Spain and Portugal. As he should have been all along.”

“And your arm?”

“The doctors tried, but the musket ball had severed the nerves. I have some feeling here and there, but I can’t use it.” He lifted his right hand with his left. “See here? I can feel with my little finger. How useful is that?”

Before she could stop herself, she’d reached out and touched his little finger. Under her hand, it twitched. “It moved.”

“I know. It’s about all I can do.” His voice had gone a little hoarse and color flared on his cheeks. Might he possibly like that she’d touched his hand?

Serafina swallowed. “Thank you for telling me your story.”

“And now,” he said, “you’d better tell me yours. We still have a long way to go.”