Page 33 of A Hint of Scandal

Maria’s expression brimmed with triumph. “How lovely. And how is she? Shall I issue an invitation for her and Lady Gilbert to call for tea?”

Max gave a determined shake of his head. “Please don’t. I doubt you’d find Lady Gilbert good company, and I fear to do so would be to play into her hands, as by her demeanor each time I call, it appears she would like nothing better to be on friendly terms with an earl and a countess. Or at least a countess, as Julian is not here.”

“But Miss Gilbert is not like that, I trust?”

Why were women always so nosy? If he’d gone to his club instead, none of the men there would have asked him a single question about how he’d spent his afternoon. “No,” he said in a tone that indicated, he hoped, his desire to end the conversation here. “She is made of different materials to her sister-in-law, thank goodness.”

Maria opened her mouth for another question.

Max held up his hand. “I need to go and change for dinner, Maria. It takes me longer than it did, on account of my arm, and I wouldn’t want to keep the family waiting.” The one thing he didn’t want to have to disclose was Serafina’s obvious lack of enthusiasm for his marriage proposal. If she decided to refuse him, he didn’t want anyone to know he’d even asked. It was bad enough having one’s ego knocked without having one’s family know that it had happened. So the less Maria knew about Serafina, the better.

Maria’s face betrayed her disappointment at failing to glean any further information on his outing with that young lady. “Very well. Shall I ring for Watkins and send him up to you?”

“Thank you.” And with that, Max hurried up the stairs out of her way.

Watkins joined him a few minutes later, puffing a little as though he’d been running.

If he was going to share his predicament with anyone, it would be with the sensible Watkins, who could be relied upon to keep it to himself. His valet was several years his senior, and, having traveled extensively while in the army, probably would have described himself as a man of the world. He’d been known to share details of his amorous past with his master on a number of occasions. Mostly around campfires in Portugal and Spain, it had to be admitted, when differences of class had seemed far away and unimportant. But nevertheless, that easy camaraderie still existed between the two of them, and Watkins had on occasion corrected Max when needed.

Watkins pulled Max’s boots off for him, revealing his thinning hair and a burgeoning bald spot as he bent.

Max stretched his legs. “Watkins…”

The valet was slipping the trees into the boots. “Yes, Captain?”

Max bit his lip. “You’re a man who knows women, are you not?”

Watkins had the grace to blush. “I like to think I am, sir.” He came to help Max out of his coat. “A clean shirt and cravat, sir?”

Max nodded. “Might I ask you a rather awkward question?”

Watkins brushed imaginary dust from the coat. “Of course you may, sir.”

“Have you ever proposed to a girl?”

Watkins’ bushy eyebrows rose. “As a matter of fact, I have. A long time ago.”

Max pulled at his cravat and failed miserably to get it undone. Watkins came to his aid. “And did she answer in the affirmative?”

Watkins undid the top buttons of Max’s shirt. “She did indeed, sir. And we were married forthwith, once the banns had been called.”

This was news indeed to Max. Watkins had never mentioned a wife in all the time he’d known him, and if he had one now, he was keeping her well hidden. “Did she give you her answer straightaway?”

A faraway look came into Watkins’s eyes. “She did, sir. She said yes straightaway. And we was married, like I said, as soon as the banns had been read. Happiest day of my life.”

So Watkins’s mysterious wife had known her mind immediately, and had in fact been in such a hurry they’d waited only the requisite three weeks to wed. What had he done wrong that Watkins had clearly done right?

Max rubbed his chin, which had grown stubbly during the day, uncomfortable at this catechism to which he was subjecting poor Watkins. “And did you love her?”

Watkins, who seemed not in the least bit uncomfortable, nodded. “I did, sir. I loved her with all my heart.” The sincerity of his words rang true.

Max wriggled out of his dirty shirt, with Watkins’ help. Damn this arm. “Might I ask where she is now?”

Watkins had the clean shirt ready. He helped Max into it before he replied, his voice solemn. “I was already in the army, you must understand. As you know, I joined up as a boy. I was home on leave when we decided to marry. We’d been sweethearts before I joined up. We married and had a few weeks together before I had to rejoin the regiment.” He cleared his throat. “While I was gone, she caught the typhus fever. I never saw her again.”

Max stared at his valet, a man who’d served him for nearly ten years, but who’d never revealed how he’d been married and widowed. “I’m sorry, Watkins. I feel this is something I should have known about you.”

Watkins shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry about, Captain. Weren’t your fault she caught the typhus fever. No one could’ve prevented it. Things like that just happen. But for a short while, she were mine, and we was happy. I’ve got that here.” He patted his chest. “In my heart forever. I gets it out from time to time and it’s still all warm and fresh, despite all the other women I’ve had doings with since then.”