Page 31 of A Hint of Scandal

Her cheeks reddened, but in a most attractive manner. She bit her lip, keeping her eyes down to regard his right arm where it hung in its sling. Damned thing. “Might I enquire as to how you came by the injury to your arm? And if it is… permanent?”

He glanced down as well. Best to be honest, Julian would say, and lay your cards upon the table, face uppermost. “You may ask indeed, and I have no reason not to tell you. I was shot while involved in a somewhat reckless cavalry charge at the Battle of Vimeiro in Portugal. The nerves are damaged beyond repair.” He paused. “I’ve seen every doctor in London, I think, and they all say the same. I’ll not be able to use it again. I have no feeling in it from the shoulder down.”

She reached across and laid her own hand on his useless one. “I am truly sorry.”

Unable to feel her touch, he found his heart unaccountably aching for want of it. Such a small thing, touch, but so important. More important than he’d ever given it credit for.

To cover his discomfort, he shook his head. “What for? You didn’t pull the trigger. And there’s nothing anyone can do to undo the damage. It’s been six months, now, and I’m growing used to my limitations.” He sighed. “But I wanted you to be fully aware of my disability.”

“I had guessed it, but it makes no difference to our friendship. You are not diminished by it in my eyes. I am not about to shun you for it.”

Badger maneuvered the barouche through the busy gates into the park and they set off, most decorously, down Rotten Row, in the company of a whole host of other equestrians both in carriages and mounted. The brighter weather had brought them all out. Over in the distance Max caught momentary sight of the distinct form of Mirza Abulhassan Khan, the Persian ambassador in his colorful national dress, cantering sedately along the Row.

Was this the place for him to continue in the direction he had planned? He took a deep breath. “Serafina, you told me you weren’t here in London looking for a husband. That you were here for Letty, alone. There’s something I didn’t tell you. I’m here not just to escort my sister-in-law and my niece, but also to find myself a bride.”

Her face fell.

“No, no, you misunderstand. I am twenty-nine-years old. On my thirtieth birthday I will inherit a substantial fortune left to me by my father. Property and funds that came into the family from my maternal grandmother and so are not entailed. But only if I’m married by that date.”

Her eyes widened, still confused. He was bad at making himself clear.

“I have been away in the army until very recently and marriage was far from my mind. My brother has made it known that he wants me to marry before he… before it is too late, and I am in agreement. But I’m not easy to please and I don’t find any of the girls my mother has thrust beneath my nose in the least bit attractive.” He shrugged. “And I doubt any of them found me to their taste either, as I’m unable to dance with them, and that is all girls like that want to do—dance and flirt.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. If she interrupted him he’d never get it said and the moment would be gone. “No. Let me finish. I need a bride who will not bore me in a month. I need someone who is sensible and intelligent, not some feather brained girl straight out of the schoolroom. And I must marry very soon or I’ll lose my inheritance.”

Her gaze sharpened. “You wish me to help you find a bride?”

He almost laughed. “No. Not at all. I wish for you to be my bride.” There. He’d said it.

Damnit. A carriage going in the opposite direction to them pulled in close. It held the impressive Lady Routledge and one of her many similarly impressive daughters. She waved imperiously at Badger to stop, and he did.

Serafina shot Max a hunted look before composing her features into bland politeness. Max forced himself to smile. “Why, Lady Routledge, how unexpected.” She would choose this very moment to appear, as if out of the blue. The woman had an altogether uncanny nose for gossip. His eyes slid sideways to check Serafina wasn’t about to give everything away and found her face still expressionless.

“Captain Aubrey, good day to you.” Lady Routledge’s beady eyes fixed on Serafina, a touch of confusion in them. She must be sorting through her memories to fix upon exactly who Serafina was. “Ah,” she finally exclaimed. “Miss Gilbert. Lady Gilbert’s… young relation. I thought I knew you.” She raised her exquisitely painted-on eyebrows at Max. “Out with Captain Aubrey, I see.”

Max ground his teeth. The last thing he wanted was one of the worst gossips of the ton seizing upon him as a subject. “My sister-in-law is acquainted with Lady Gilbert,” he lied, although probably it wasn’t as much a lie as he was thinking. “We’re out taking the air.”

Lady Routledge raised just one single arched eyebrow at him this time. “Remember me to dear Lady Westbury, Captain Aubrey. Good afternoon, Miss Gilbert. Captain.”

Her driver clicked to his horses and her carriage moved away.

The moment she was out of earshot, Serafina turned to face Max, her gray eyes brimming with accusation. He’d rather hoped they’d be brimming with excitement at the prospect of marriage to him. “Was that a proposal?”

Feeling less confident, if that were possible, he nodded. “It was. You need to escape your family, and I need a bride in order to receive my inheritance. Perhaps it’s a little more along the lines of a business proposal.” Good God, had he just said that? But there was no unsaying it now.

“Oh.” Nothing in her tone gave away what she was thinking but her eyes had not lost their accusing expression. Had he somehow insulted her?

“You would gain significantly. I will inherit a house and estate in Wiltshire, not too far from my brother’s estate at Bratton Park. I’ll keep a house in Town as well, if you wish. And you’ll have a generous allowance for… your attire. I know from Maria and Arabella how much ladies like to spend on gowns and such like.” Was this the right thing to say? From her appearance she didn’t look like a girl who spent money on clothes, but he might be wrong about that.

Why was she not looking pleased?

“You will have your own carriage and as many servants as you require.” What else might a young lady require on marriage? He was scraping the bottom of his barrel of knowledge now, but felt more as if he were digging himself a deep hole to fall into.

Her eyes narrowed. “Pray tell me what it is you would expect in return?”

Aha. The nub of it. She was a virgin, of course. She had told him she didn’t want to be married and was probably worried she might have to partake in one of the consequences of the marital state. Despite his fondness for her, or perhaps because of it, he felt sympathy. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Merely that you will be hostess for any social gathering I might wish to hold.” But was that really all he wanted? Dealing with young ladies was so much more confusing than dealing with soldiers.

“Nothing?” Did she sound a tiny bit disappointed? Or was he reading into her tone of voice something that wasn’t there? Perhaps, on the other hand, it indicated relief?

He nodded. “A marriage strictly in name only, so that I may receive my inheritance. And so that you might escape your brother’s house.” The longing for her to fall into his arms and declare that she would love to be married to him rose from nowhere. Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen when one made an offer for a young lady? Even if love were not involved. He pulled himself up short.

What was he? A romantic hero from a novel? He swept that thought away, to where it belonged. Even though she’d claimed she didn’t find his useless arm unmanly, the certainty that she didn’t have feelings for him remained. And of course, he didn’t have feelings for her beyond those warm ones of friendship. And as his mother would say, many a good marriage was based on friendship alone.

She nodded. “Oh. Of course. How very kind of you to wish to take me away from Milford House.” Her tone had flattened.

“An arrangement that should suit us both. I imagine we could spend many evenings discussing Egypt together.” This wasn’t quite how he’d wanted his proposal to come out. In his head, her reactions had been quite different. She didn’t even seem pleased.

What had gone wrong?

They were approaching the Kensington Palace end of the Row now, where Badger swung the carriage around. A weak winter sun shone down on them and the breeze ruffled Serafina’s hair.

She gazed at Max out of troubled eyes. “Thank you very much for your offer, Max. But if you don’t mind, I shall have to take some time to think about it.”

What? She was considering saying no? Was he so awful that staying on with her brother as an unpaid servant was a better option than he was? Max slumped back in his seat, speechless, his ego well dented. He’d rather imagined she’d be grateful to be removed from the frosty confines of her brother’s house and shown just a little pleasure in his proposal. It was going to be an awkward drive back to Great Titchfield Street.