Page 8 of A Hint of Scandal (The Mismatched Lovers #2)

T he next morning, Serafina was up early as usual, even though they now had the servants Mrs. Cottrell had hired, and Ogden and Araminta had been coerced, with great reluctance, into paying for. After a late return from the ball, no one else was as yet up, of course, so she had the house to herself. With no duties to perform, and breakfast being attendant on Ogden’s rising, she took the opportunity to retreat into the sanctum of the small library. The shutters had been opened and the dismal light of a foggy London morning was creeping in through the long windows.

Of course, no fire had been lit, but as she’d donned one of her warmest old gowns this morning and augmented it with a thick shawl about her shoulders, and a pair of fingerless gloves, that hardly mattered. A short perusal of the shelves provided her with a book, which she took to one of the two high-backed chairs in front of the cold hearth. She could pretend, as she’d so often done before, that a cozy fire burned in the grate. Pulling the shawl more closely about her body, she opened the book, the musty scent of its many ignored companions tickling her nostrils.

But she couldn’t read. Well, she could, but she found she kept on having to read the first few paragraphs over and over again, as their content had made no impression on her brain. Why was she finding it so hard to concentrate? An easy answer to that. She was thinking about her fascinating encounter last night with Captain Max Aubrey. A man whom she might also classify as fascinating in person.

She’d never met anyone like him before. Well, she’d hardly ever met any men at all, ensconced as she’d been for all of her life at Milford House in deepest Berkshire, and certainly none of them had been young and handsome. The fat old physician came to mind, followed by Ogden’s balding man of business, then the widowed vicar of St Mary’s who, with his long, thin legs and lank gray hair, closely resembled a heron strutting about in the shallows of the river, or in his case, the churchyard. Of course there’d been that handsome young stable lad she’d caught Letty with, but he’d been no older than her niece and with eyes only for Letty’s obvious attractions. She wasn’t such a fool as to have thrown herself at a servant. Ogden and Araminta would have relished the opportunity to throw her out on the street for that sort of indiscretion.

Captain Aubrey’s dashing good looks had not been lost on her, and nor had his polite interest in what she had to say. Despite her long-ingrained opinion of herself as not likely to be the object of any gentleman’s attentions, a girl could dream. She closed her eyes for a moment, and he appeared in front of her, not cloaked in darkness as he’d been in the summerhouse, but in the full light of the ballroom, when she’d spilled the lemonade on him. So tall and slim, yet with broad shoulders beneath his tight-fitting tailcoat that suggested immense strength. And his hair. Oh goodness, his hair. She’d never been a girl given to romantic nonsense, but Captain Aubrey possessed hair she’d quite definitely like to run her fingers through, preferably while held tightly in his arms.

And those eyes, like peaty pools… she gave her head a little shake but couldn’t rid herself of the image of his eyes, nor of those lips… Even though she’d never been kissed, the thought of pressing her lips to his sent a shiver of excitement coursing through her. Kissing was supposed to be a pleasurable activity, and she nurtured a forlorn hope to one day try it out for herself. Even if it were just once.

She pulled herself up sharply and opened her own eyes, dispelling the alluring image of the captain. Whatever was she thinking? Just because a man had been kind to her, kind enough to offer to take her to visit somewhere she’d been longing to see, it didn’t mean a thing. He was the son and brother of an earl, a war hero despite his denial of it, and, as far as she was concerned, the handsomest man at last night’s ball. So, despite his kind words, he would not be interested, at least not in the way she would have liked, in a plain spinster without a penny to her name and who was definitely too old to be considered for matrimony. Araminta had told her so often enough.

No, if he decided at some point to marry, it would be to the daughter of a peer from a higher level of society than a baronet’s impecunious half-sister. And he would choose someone young and pretty. There’d be plenty of young ladies overjoyed to have his attentions. He would never cast his eyes in the direction of someone as plain as she was. Not at all. She’d better get used to that and modify her vivid imagination.

He was just being kind. And polite. As any gentleman would be.

The morning crept by as though someone had applied a strong brake to it. After what seemed an interminable length of time, Ogden and Araminta appeared downstairs and breakfast was served in the dining room. 35 Great Titchfield Street was too small a house for a dedicated breakfast room. Serafina joined them but found she had no appetite, something which no one seemed to notice. Letty had not yet risen, and was, according to her proud mother, ‘resting after her successful debut last night and her popularity amongst so many eligible young men’. In that moment, if Letty had not been her only friend, Serafina could have almost hated her.

After breakfast, Serafina went upstairs to the room the two of them were sharing before Araminta could find a chore for her to do. The room was gloomy, and Letty was just a hump under the covers, her auburn curls spread across the pillow. Time for her to get up. Serafina needed someone to talk to. She drew back the curtains and the feeble London daylight filled the room. So different from a morning in the country.

Still no movement from Letty.

Serafina gave her dainty shoulder a shake. “Wake up, can’t you, Letty? It’s nearly midday. Aren’t you hungry?”

Letty rolled over and squinted up at her out of bleary blue eyes. “That’s still morning. I’m not getting up until it’s afternoon. You know how I hate mornings.”

“Well it soon will be afternoon,” Serafina said, sitting down on the edge of Letty’s bed. “You’re not usually such a slugabed.”

Letty rubbed her eyes. “I haven’t usually been up until the early hours of the morning dancing. I’m quite exhausted, my feet hurt and my legs ache. I had no idea having fun could be such hard work. I need my sleep. You should know better than to wake me up.” She pulled a cross face.

Serafina bestowed an admonitory frown on her niece. “I’d say you’ve had enough sleep. After your success of last night, you need to be up and dressed because some of the young gentlemen you danced with, and no doubt charmed, are going to be calling on you before very long. That’s what happens after balls. And you don’t want to still be lying in bed when they arrive, now do you?”

Letty sat bolt upright in bed. “I forgot about that.” Her hand went to her mouth. “I’m sure I invited far too many of them. All of them, in fact. And they’re bound to want to come and see me. They were so attentive and every single one of them practically begged me for invitations.” She patted her disarrayed curls. “One of them told me I was the prettiest girl in London. And another said I was a diamond of the first water, whatever that might be. But of course, it must have been something good. No one could say anything bad about the way I look.”

Serafina ignored Letty’s burst of self-congratulation, and smiled, content for now to bask in the radiance her niece was throwing. “Of course they all will come if you invited them. I believe that’s the whole point of going to balls and soirées. You go out and are seen, and then would-be suitors come calling.” At least, that was what she’d been led to expect. She was no expert herself.

Letty’s blue eyes flew wide. “Suitors? I wonder how many of them might be thinking of offering for me? Even though we only met last night, and I only danced with each of them once, I do think several of them were quite smitten by my looks. I did manage to make friends with another girl, as Mama advised, although she wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as me. Lady Arabella Aubrey. Her papa is an earl, she told me. Unfortunately, though, her brother, who’ll be the next earl, is only twelve, or I should have set my cap at him. That would have pleased Mama no end.”

Might this Lady Arabella Aubrey be the niece whom the handsome Captain had said he was escorting to balls in lieu of his brother? Serafina shrugged. She’d think about that later. For now, she was beginning to tire of Letty’s unbounded self-confidence. “Who can tell how many might be considering proposals? But best for you to be prepared, I always think. And everyone else has already taken breakfast. I’ll ring the bell and ask Roberts to fetch you up something to eat. How does hot chocolate and toast sound?”

Letty pushed back the covers. “Perfect. Now, where’s my peignoir?”

Five minutes later the two girls were seated at the small round table in the window while Letty ate her toast with gusto. Roberts, taking advantage of the fact they were in a new kitchen with servants who didn’t know Araminta’s penny-pinching housekeeping methods, had brought two cups of hot chocolate, and Serafina was savoring the unlooked for bounty.

“Did you see how many gentlemen danced with me?” Letty asked, between bites of toast. “My dance card was full to bursting. There must surely be one amongst them I could envisage spending the rest of my life with. And more than one who allows fires in every room. So hard to choose though, as they were all so handsome, and they all gushed about my beauty. It was most satisfying.” She patted her curls again, as she was wont to do whenever she found herself considering her own good looks.

Not so handsome as Captain Max Aubrey, but Serafina didn’t volunteer that information.

“Was there one amongst them whom you liked more than the rest?” she asked, pushing another vision of Max out of her head.

Letty gave a shrug. How very beautiful she looked with her hair mussed up from sleep and the excitement of the night before making her eyes shine and her skin glow. She was only five years younger than Serafina, but the age gap had never gaped more widely. Almost as though she came from an entirely different generation. She set down her toast, only partly nibbled. “One dance isn’t enough to form an attachment, I don’t think. At least, not for me. Although I did rather enjoy the company of Lord Grey’s younger brother—Mr. Herbert.” She dimpled. “He asked me to call him Louis.”

Serafina frowned over the top of her chocolate cup. “That was very forward of him.” Letty, who had never been backward at coming forward herself, had to be kept a strict eye on. “And he’s a younger brother, so perhaps won’t have much of an inheritance. Younger brothers are wont to be the spendthrifts of the family, with money they so rarely have, so I’ve been told. You would do better there to set your cap at his older brother. He’s a viscount, I believe, with a small estate in Hampshire.”

Another dimple showed. “But Louis is so much more handsome than his older brother. With whom I also danced, of course.”

Thinking of Captain Aubrey again, Serafina frowned once more. “Looks don’t mean a thing. It is steadfastness you need, and reliability of finances. I thought both those young men a little on the boisterous side—perhaps too young to be considered suitable husband material.” She smiled. “We have to remember that young men take much longer to achieve sensible adulthood than we women.” Not that Letty had reached that stage herself yet. Not by a long chalk.

Letty waved a dismissive hand. “I have the whole Season to find myself a husband. I know I said I would accept the first man who offered for me, but I’ve changed my mind. I would rather not settle for one particular gentleman too soon. Now I’ve been to one ball, and I know what they’re like, I want to have as much fun as possible before I tie myself down to anyone. It’s such fun having a crowd of men clamoring around me for the next dance or to fetch me a glass of lemonade or to fan me.”

Serafina’s heart sank. This did not bode well. How very like Letty, the girl who’d indulged in a romantic tryst with a lowly groom, to take to London society in this wholehearted manner. Thoughts of seeing her safely married off retreated. This was not going to be as easy as she’d hoped.

The first caller arrived in the early afternoon, and he was not, after all, a caller for Letty.

Araminta had ordained that she, Letty and Serafina should occupy the small parlor, maintaining an image of industry for when the expected gentlemen callers for Letty should arrive. Consequently, Serafina was employed in doing some mending, while Araminta and Letty held pretty embroidery on their laps, although neither of them was much good at it, and the bulk of the neat work had already been done by Serafina. But it looked good, Araminta said. Ogden had retired to the library, now with a fire lit in the hearth, ‘leaving you ladies to yourselves’.

Joseph, the new young footman Ogden had taken on, who had to also serve as butler, as Ogden said hiring a butler for so short a time was an unnecessary expense, brought the first caller to the parlor.

It was Captain Aubrey.

Even more devastatingly handsome in his blue topcoat and hessian boots, and with his dark hair swept carelessly back from his forehead, he filled the doorway with his presence.

Serafina’s heart bounded within the confines of her stays, but she managed to keep her face a calm blank. It wouldn’t do to betray her feelings in front of Araminta.

Captain Aubrey swept a bow to that lady. “Captain Aubrey, at your service, Lady Gilbert.”

Araminta was looking at him in almost but not quite open mouthed astonishment. No doubt she knew quite well that Letty had not danced with him, and probably she also knew exactly who he was. And who his brother was. She’d made it her business to compile a list of all the Season’s eligible men with their titles, or the titles they might inherit, and their monetary worth. The cogs in her brain must be whirling as she turned over the prospects of an earl’s younger brother for her daughter. “Please,” she said a little faintly. “Do sit down beside my daughter.” She’d positioned Letty on a chaise longue with a handy space next to her for ardent suitors. “How very kind of you to call.”

Letty was also regarding the captain with an astonished expression, the acquisitive glint in her eyes betraying the fact that she was finding him more than pleasing to look at, despite, or perhaps because of, the sling. It further enhanced his rather swashbuckling appearance.

Captain Aubrey surveyed the room, his gaze coming to rest on Serafina, whose chair was pushed back a little out of the way of the suitors Araminta and Letty had foreseen arriving. A smile lit his face.

Letty’s brow furrowed.

Araminta’s frown deepened to almost scowl-like proportions.

Serafina’s heart nearly burst, and heat crept up her neck to her cheeks, but she kept her face emotionless.

“Miss Gilbert.” He bowed to her, a deeper bow than he’d bestowed on her sister-in-law, to whom he now turned. “You mistake my intentions, Lady Gilbert. I am here for Miss Serafina Gilbert, and not Miss Letitia.” And he took a seat close to Serafina.

He must be able to hear her heart hammering.

Araminta’s face was a picture of thwarted shock. Serafina experienced a longing to capture that moment forever. Astonishment, anger, jealousy—all flashed across Lady Gilbert’s face before she had it under control again. “I had no idea Serafina had made your acquaintance.” Her words were frosty cold. Icy. Threatening. Serafina’s already upset heart quailed. There’d be trouble over this. For her if not for the captain, who seemed all oblivious to the volcano fulminating on the far side of the fireplace.

“We became quite good friends last night, as neither of us were dancing,” Captain Aubrey said, with a smile. “In the course of our conversation, we discovered we share a common interest.”

Araminta’s pencil-thin brows rose towards her hairline. “Indeed? And what might that be, pray?”

The captain still seemed not to have noticed her frostiness. No, her glacial attitude. He smiled. “Why, our love of antiquities. I promised Miss Gilbert I would call today to escort her, accompanied by her maid, of course, to the British Museum. She tells me she has long desired to explore its many exhibitions.”

Letty got her furrowed brow under control, but the flash of her blue eyes betokened clear disfavor that not only was the first caller of the afternoon not for her, but that he was both handsome and eligible and not interested in her. Serafina had been on the receiving end of Letty’s jealousies once or twice before, and it had not ended well. “How nice for you to have your own gentleman caller,” Letty said, her voice nearly as cold as her mother’s. “And to have met someone who shares your odd passion for old bits and bobs. I’m so pleased for you.” She did not sound as if this was remotely true. The mean streak, which Serafina hadn’t experienced for some time, was clawing its way to the surface at speed.

“The British Museum?” Araminta pronounced the three words as though they were alien to her. Which they probably were.

Captain Aubrey nodded. “It’s a wonder of the modern age. I’ve been there before, of course, but not for some years, as I’ve been overseas with my regiment. And I’ve been lucky enough to procure tickets for us. For today. They’re quite sought after, I gather.”

Araminta’s gaze settled on the arm he held in the sling. “I see you have received a wound.” Her lip curled. Perhaps she was dismissing anyone with a useless arm as beneath her notice and therefore also beneath appearing on her list of possible sons-in-law.

Itching to be away from Araminta’s scorn, Serafina seized her courage in both hands. “May I go, please?”

Araminta’s eyes narrowed, hard as a pair of diamonds. She was going to say no, and then everything would be over. She’d probably never see Captain Aubrey again. In fact, she was more than surprised that he’d actually fulfilled his promise to her. All morning she’d been imagining that he wouldn’t come, and now here he was. In their parlor. If Araminta now said no, she would have successfully chased away the only person, apart from Letty, with all her drawbacks, she’d ever consider calling a friend. And she’d be back to being alone, because Letty was bound to capture some handsome gentleman of the ton , and never return to Milford for another freezing winter.

Captain Aubrey must have suspected the same, because he stepped in before Araminta could reply. Standing up, he reached out and took Serafina’s hand. “I promise you I won’t keep her out late, Lady Gilbert. The British Museum is somewhere that can be explored over many days, and I hope to have the privilege of escorting Miss Gilbert there more than once, if I can again procure tickets.” He smiled, his dark eyes dancing a challenge. “And I can assure you that my intentions are of the most honorable.”

Serafina, rising to her feet to stand beside him, had to stifle the impulse to look smug as she caught sight of the new expression on Araminta’s face. Pure fury at being bested. “She does not possess her own maid,” she snapped, as though this would prevent the excursion.

Letty, perhaps anxious to meet her own callers without Serafina and her beau present, was quick off the mark, though. “That’s quite all right, Mama. She can take Roberts. I have no need of her until I have to dress for dinner this evening.” She managed a smile. Perhaps her mean streak had been vanquished. “Have a lovely time, Fina.” She sounded as though she might mean it.

Araminta’s mouth shut in a thin, angry line. Bested, now, by her own daughter as well. Letty was going to be in almost as much trouble as Serafina. But that would be later, and right now, Serafina didn’t care. A visit to the British Museum with Captain Aubrey would be worth all the reprimands afterwards.

Captain Aubrey released Serafina’s hand and held out his good left arm. “That is settled then. We shall progress to the museum in the company of the redoubtable Roberts.” He bowed to Letty. “Thank you for the loan of this sterling escort, Miss Letitia.”

Serafina drew in a deep breath, avoiding Araminta’s gaze, and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “Thank you, Captain Aubrey.”