Page 45 of A Hint of Scandal

His eyes met Serafina’s, twinkling with amusement, and he winked. Was he deliberately baiting his mother? For a brief moment Serafina felt an almost irresistible urge to laugh, but managed to hold herself in check. It would never do to laugh at the dowager.

The carriage drew to a halt on the wide gravel forecourt of the house, in front of an imposing door that, even as the wheels ceased to turn, swung open to reveal not just a butler but two liveried footmen as well.

Luckily, the dowager didn’t seem to have noticed her son’s amusement. She laid a hand on Serafina’s. “Welcome to Bratton, my dear. I shall, of course, be staying here with you rather than returning to the Dower House in order to maintain propriety. Shall we go in so that you can meet my older son?”

Trying her best not to gawp and look like a country bumpkin in such hallowed surroundings, Serafina descended from the carriage and followed the dowager and Max inside the house, which was even more splendid on the inside than the out. The marble tiled entrance hall contained a wide, oak staircase leading to the floors above, and a stone archway led through into an enormous space that rose to a domed, ornately decorated ceiling where high, unreachable windows let in the light. All around the upper floor a balustrade ran, mirroring the ground floor arches, and decorated with stucco and coats of arms. Were they perhaps the coats of arms of other families the Aubrey’s were related to? Might one day her own coat of arms join them?

“This way,” the dowager said with confidence. “Upstairs. Julian will be in his library at this time of day. He always is.”

She was quite right. After mounting the stairs to the galleried landing, and passing through a wide doorway, they found the Earl of Westbury in residence in his library. But what a library. A slightly faded Turkish rug of epic proportions covered the wooden floor, and every wall, save of course for the long curtained windows, was covered in bookcases. At one end a cluster of comfortable chairs clustered welcomingly around a fireplace in which a fire blazed, and at the other, seated at an impressive dark oak desk, sat the man they sought.

It didn’t take much common sense to realize that Julian, Earl of Westbury, was not a well man. He sat at his desk in a red banyan and a gaudy turban over loose clothing that might have been his night attire. His countenance, bloated by what was probably excess water in his body, had a grayish tinge. Similarly bloated, and heavily ink stained, fingers rested on a book that lay on the table before him, and beside that lay an untidy pile of papers. The only vital thing about the man before Serafina was his eyes, bright and dark and not unlike Max’s. But they were the only part of him anything like his brother.

He made to rise out of his seat, his breath wheezing.

The dowager waved him back down. “Be seated, Julian. We come bearing glad tidings. Your brother has an announcement to make. He is betrothed.”

Julian Aubrey, Earl of Westbury looked past his mother and brother at Serafina, those brightly intelligent eyes studying her with open interest. “I take it you are the lady concerned?” he said, with a slight smile. His voice was thready, as though he didn’t have enough breath to give it volume. “I confess myself delighted to make your acquaintance. You will forgive me for not rising.”

Max, who had hung back, stepped forward. “Julian, I would like to introduce you to Miss Serafina Gilbert. We are to marry as soon as the banns have been called. Serafina, this is my brother, Julian.”

Leaning forward, Julian held out his hand to Serafina. When she set hers in his, he bent his turbaned head and kissed it. “Excellent. A wedding will give me something to look forward to. I have precious little like that at the moment.” He emitted a deep sigh. “My little brother is to marry.” His smile widened. “And you have brought her here to meet me. I am touched, Mama, by your consideration. And by yours, Max.” His eyes twinkled much as Max’s could do, making him suddenly appear much younger and giving him a fleeting look of his younger brother. He must once, before sickness had ravaged him, have been a handsome man.

Serafina made a respectful curtsy. “My lord.”

Julian sank back into his seat again, breathing heavily as though the effort had been too much for him. Absent mindedly he began to draw together the papers on his desk. “You find me employed in my study of Greek antiquities, Miss Gilbert. Please forgive me for not being able to be more welcoming.” He looked at Max, his eyebrows rising. “You never cease to astound me, little brother, as I clearly lacked enough faith in you. But may I offer you my hearty congratulations.”

Max nodded. “Thank you. I thought you’d be pleased.”

So Julian was party to Max’s reasons for offering marriage in such a hurry. He must be a very magnanimous older brother if he wanted to make sure Max inherited what would perhaps have otherwise been part of his own estate, and that he could have passed on to his own children. How many had Max said he had? Was it not two girls, Arabella being one of them, and two younger boys?

Julian smiled. “Now, pleasant as this tête-a-tête is, I can see Miss Gilbert is as fatigued as I am. If you ring the bell, Max, I’ll have Larkin show her to her room. Let it not be said that taxed as I am, I cannot offer a welcome to my brother’s intended.”

The dowager nodded her approval. “Shall we ask your valet to come and take you to your room for a rest?”

Julian bowed his head. “I feel that would be appropriate. I would have liked to dine with you this evening, to properly welcome Miss Gilbert into our family.” He coughed, his chest battling for breath. “But I fear I am too tired and I do not wish to be carried down the stairs this evening like a baby. I have my pride. I will dine in my room.”

Max moved towards him. “I can help you.”

But Julian shook his head. “With your one arm? No, brother, you’re as incapacitated as I am, nearly. And Rumbold knows my habits and needs far better than you do. No. You should escort Mama and Miss Gilbert to their rooms. Dinner can be delayed until seven tonight, to give the ladies time to prepare themselves. I would not want to be an inattentive host to a young lady who is about to become a member of my family.” He coughed again.

Max bowed to his brother. “And Larkin will have to provide Miss Gilbert with a maid as she was unable to bring hers with her.”

He was being very tactful in avoiding mentioning that she didn’t possess her own maid. Would that have shocked the dowager or the earl? Never having had the luxury of a maid of her own, Serafina had no idea.

As a butler, Larkin must have been trained to show no reaction no matter how odd the request made to him, and his face stayed impassive at the revelation that Serafina had arrived without a maid. Probably the servants all knew she was Max’s betrothed. Word like that would spread like the proverbial wildfire in a country house. Although it was most likely the driver, Badger, who’d told them. Or Max’s valet, Watkins, who had travelled in a second carriage with Mrs. Howard, the dowager’s housekeeper, her maid and the luggage, and gone to take care of it the moment they arrived. One of them at least was bound to have confided everything in the servants’ hall. Even at Milford, with its comparatively few servants, gossip was known there well before it arrived upstairs.

“The blue room, I think, sir,” Larkin said. “I’ll have Miss Gilbert’s luggage sent up immediately and inform Elsie that she is to be promoted to lady’s maid for the duration of her stay.”

Max turned back to Serafina. “Best to let Larkin decide which room, or he’ll get in a huff. Can’t disturb the smooth running of the house, and he’s the key to it. You’ll like the blue room. And I believe Elsie will make you a personable and useful maid.” He hesitated. “Perhaps you too would like to lie down for a while? As we’re not dining until seven, you might manage a short rest before dinner.”

Serafina bowed her head. After the long journey in which she’d had to entertain the dowager, followed by the overwhelming splendor of the house, a short rest would be wonderful.