Page 57 of A Hint of Scandal

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The following morning, Max managed to rise at the intended time and was pleased to find he wasn’t suffering from a significant hangover, although he was very thirsty. Having attended to his morning ablutions, he descended The Star’s twisting staircase and headed to the same parlor as last night. There, he took breakfast with a decidedly quiet Serafina while, in the innyard, Badger, who had probably risen much earlier than his master, prepared their horses.

Little was said between him and Serafina as they ate, and she seemed quite relieved when the little serving girl arrived to inform them their carriage awaited outside the front door of the inn.

Max settled up with the landlord and handed Serafina into the landau. As a fine drizzle was falling, Elsie came to sit inside as well, leaving only Badger, in his voluminous great coat and cocked hat, to suffer the inclement weather. Which rendered private conversation impossible. Not that he suspected Elsie of being a gossip, but because she presented that risk and there was no way in which the reason for their trip should be allowed to become common knowledge. At least, not yet. If it all turned out to be true, which he was increasingly afraid it would, that would be a different matter. One he didn’t even want to contemplate. Bloody Julian. Why couldn’t he have slaked his lust with some bawd who didn’t want a ring on her finger in order to give away something that probably wasn’t even untouched? She must have seen Julian coming from a mile off. So much for their father having considered Julian the more trustworthy and dependable of the two brothers.

To do her credit, it wasn’t long into the journey before Serafina came up with the ideal excuse for extending their journey down into Marlborough. “Are there any dressmakers shops in Marlborough?” she asked, eyes wide and innocent of all guile, as they left Oxford’s gleaming spires behind them.

Max, impressed at her ingenuity, could answer that with ease. He smiled. “I believe the Misses Sedgewick have a most reputable establishment in that town. My mother and Maria frequent it for a lot of their clothing. The two ladies who run it should be able to meet whatever requirements you have for clothing.” He cast a sideways glance at Elsie, who was staring out of the window at the passing countryside, mouth slightly open. “If we call there today, they can take your measurements and show you some pictures of gowns you might like. I’m not familiar with the process, but I think that’s what Maria does. You’ll need a new gown for the wedding. My mother would like you to order more than one gown, though, so if the dressmakers take your measurements, she can go down there tomorrow and place some orders. She has impeccable taste, you’ll find.” Was this the right way to go about equipping a young lady for marriage? Did it even matter if it wasn’t?

Serafina nodded in satisfaction, despite the implication that she should have her gowns chosen for her. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested that. She returned his smile. “Precisely. Although, to be honest, I’m not sure I will need more than one or two new gowns. I’m very good at making ends meet and would not like to be the cause of too much expense.”

Elsie took a sideways glance at her new mistress before reverting her gaze to the passing countryside.

Max cleared his throat as a warm hand clutched his heart at the thought of her having to patch old gowns and keep them useable, and how lovely she would look in some new ones. He had to clear his throat a second time before he could speak, and even then his voice came out throaty and gruff. “That was in your past. Your future lies with me, and I don’t intend my wife to be criticized for her lack of decent gowns. You will have a generous allowance to spend on yourself which will include gowns and anything else you might need in that direction. And pin money, of course.” He had a vague idea that women required all sorts of things that were beyond his ken, and that he didn’t feel he should enquire about. Women’s things about which he’d rather stay ignorant.

She bestowed a smile on him that he couldn’t read. “Thank you. That will be most satisfactory.” Her eyes twinkled for a moment before she returned to gazing out of the window at the wet landscape. Between the clouds a touch of blue gave hope of better weather to come before they arrived in Marlborough.

And that, due to Elsie’s presence, was the extent of their conversation for some time to come, apart from a few niceties as Max pointed out things of interest along their journey. Things that were few and far between as the road traversed an abundance of open downland. Really, when you couldn’t say what you wanted to say, long journeys by carriage could be very boring.

At last, Max was disturbed from the fitful sleep he’d fallen into by the wheels of the landau rattling over Marlborough’s cobbled main street. He’d taken the opportunity to snatch this much needed slumber as last night he’d not slept well, due in the main to the influence of the alcohol he’d imbibed earlier and also to the fact that he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Serafina. She could be said to have haunted his dreams. And she’d kept on doing it as he dozed inside the landau. Drat the woman. What was it about her that was putting her constantly at the forefront of his thoughts? No other woman had ever had the power to do that to him, and he’d met plenty of much prettier girls than Serafina Gilbert during his time at Oxford and in the Dragoons.

He glanced across at her. She was sitting primly upright and looking out of the window with interest as the wide main shopping street of Marlborough came into view. At least from here they could return to Bratton this evening without having to undertake too long a journey.

The carriage rattled to a halt. Max didn’t wait for Badger to climb down from his driving seat but opened the door himself and stepped out onto the pavement. He held out his hand to Serafina, who placed hers in his and descended, a little stiffly, it had to be said. She turned back to Elsie. “You may stay here with Badger. I shall be quite all right with Captain Aubrey. I can come to no harm at all in the middle of a town.”

A good idea. Their investigations could not be carried out with a curious maid in tow. Far too delicate a matter. Max closed the door and nodded to Badger. The horses could have a well-deserved rest.

Serafina, meanwhile, was staring about herself in some confusion. “I had no idea Marlborough would be as big as this. How many possible inns are there? I mean, ones that an actress might stay in?”

Max pulled a rueful face. “Quite a few. It’s a major coaching town. I suggest we eat in one and see if she’s arrived yet. Someone once told me that more than forty coaches a day stop in Marlborough, so it’s entirely possible we’re too early. So, sustenance first.” Not that he was feeling hungry, but she might be. His own stomach was doing some sort of ridiculous knotting he didn’t understand. It must be worry about meeting this claimant to Julian’s estate. For that was what the son would be.

“So long as we’re not too late.” Serafina shot him a radiant smile that lit up her entire face and Max’s errant heart did a leap in his chest. What was going on? He couldn’t recall ever having felt like this before and it was most unsettling.

On inspection of the inns on offer, Max immediately discounted The Castle Inn at the end of the street as being well outside of an actress’s pocket, so they selected The Angel for their repast, an inn which was clearly a coaching stop as it possessed a wide archway leading through to a busy stableyard behind. The landlord, a cheery, ruddy-faced fellow, was apologetic that he couldn’t provide such highborn guests with a private parlor as they were already taken by arrivals on the previous coach. He could, however, furnish them with an excellent dinner which he assured them was talked about the entirety of the Great Bath Road. “Like no other dinner you’ll ever taste, sir. You’ll eat in my hostelry and never want to go anywhere else again.”

They took a table near the blazing log fire, and found the food, when it arrived, was similar to that which they’d been presented with the day before at The Star. However, yet again, neither of them could do justice to it. At last, having sat in a somewhat uncomfortable silence while each of them pushed their food about their plates, rearranging it rather than eating it, Serafina pushed her plate away. “I’ve had enough of this,” she said as though issuing an ultimatum, but keeping her voice low as there were other customers in the taproom. “It’s a mystery even my skills as an investigator can’t work out.”

Max raised his eyebrows.

She sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t think either of us is sickening for anything, so we can’t be off our food because we’re ill. And now suddenly we can’t talk to one another.” Her face had flushed a becoming pink. “And I think this all stems from when we checked each other for fevers.”

Max, a little taken aback by her pronouncement, could only nod. “I think you might be right.” Heat had suffused his own face, sufficient to match hers. Why was he blushing like a girl? This wasn’t like him at all.

“I am right,” Serafina said. She’d clearly decided to seize the proverbial bull by the horns. “And although I’m sure I’m not ill, I have to admit to having been feeling quite odd in the stomach department.” She met his eyes, her own challenging. “And I need to know if you are suffering in that direction as well.”

One thing about her was that she certainly knew how to speak her mind. Which was surprising, given her upbringing.

Max swallowed. “I am.” He couldn’t very well shirk this answer. Her own honesty forced him to be as honest back. “And I’m unused to such a feeling.”

She was regarding him out of her candid gray eyes as though she was willing him to say something. Hope burned there, and determination, along with something else.

Max swallowed. It was now or never, and something was shouting inside his head telling him it had better be now. “Serafina.” He reached out and took her hand, shocked by how much he’d wanted to do this. He had to swallow again. “I-I’m not sure what to say to you. I’ve never been any good at saying what I feel.”

Her brow furrowed, but she was smiling a little, as if in encouragement. “Then just say what you can.”

He glanced about himself at the other patrons, but none appeared to be looking their way. Was this the place to make any sort of declaration to a young lady? In public, amongst tradesmen and workers, and in the common taproom of a small inn? But the moment had presented itself and he couldn’t go back now or he’d never have the courage to say anything. It would be past and over, never to come again. Every sense in his body was encouraging him to keep going.