After Frodo had mailed his letter, he returned to the inn to join Sam and his cousins for dinner. He found Val was also in the common-room, waiting to speak to him. Even in the dim fire- and candlelight, the red-and-gold waistcoat was dazzling.
"Mr. Baggins, I've come to apologize," Val said, stepping forward to greet Frodo as he came in. "I was very short with your kinsmen today-" he bowed slightly in the direction of Merry and Pippin, who were seated with Sam at a table some distance away. "And I was rude to you yesterday, when Mother engaged your services. I hope you'll pardon my unforgivable behavior."
"Yes, of course," said Frodo. This turn of events was surprising, but Val sounded sincerely contrite.
At Frodo's acceptance of his apology, Val smiled. "I'm so glad you understand. It's no excuse, but this has been a most unpleasant and awkward situation for me."
"You must be distressed about your wife."
"Yes," Val agreed. "It hasn't been easy for me to acknowledge that Camellia might not have gone visiting after all. Nor is it easy for a gentleman to have a lot of strangers asking questions about his wife and prying into private affairs that should be nobody's business but his own." He met Frodo's eyes meaningfully and, in a lowered voice, murmured, "I'm sure you know just how I feel, Mr. Baggins. You've been the subject of gossip yourself."
Frodo felt the blood rush to his face. He knew exactly what Val was alluding to: last year, before Sam's marriage to Rosie had quashed the gossip around Hobbiton, there had been rumors about their relationship--all quite true, but disastrous for them both if it was ever openly acknowledged. He hadn't realized that the gossip had gotten so far.
"You- ah- won't have to put up with our prying much longer," he answered. "We'll be leaving Budgeford in the morning."
Val's eyebrows rose. "Surely you haven't given up so easily?"
"No--I'm going to speak to my cousin Angelica, as you suggested."
"So they told you about that?" Val glanced at the other hobbits at the table again; all three were watching with avid curiosity. Sam was especially alert. "I hope you didn't think I was implying Mrs. Whitfoot had anything to do with Camellia's departure?"
"Not at all," Frodo assured him. He would have written to Angelica in any case.
"It's only that I know she and Camellia are girlhood friends, and girl-friends usually confide their secrets to each other," Val explained. "I had the pleasure to meet Mrs. Whitfoot at Michel Delving earlier this summer. A charming young lady, and quite a handsome one. That seems to run in your family."
"Er- yes." Frodo felt bewildered and somewhat lost. He didn't know what to make of this. Was Camellia's husband flirting with him? He'd had a long experience of Sam's unspoken devotion, before he'd coaxed Sam into saying what he felt, and some experience of Merry's playful kisses, but no older male hobbit had ever spoken to him this way before. Or was he mistaken, and was Val simply trying to win him over by flattery?
"Well, I shan't keep you from your supper a moment longer. I wish you the best of luck in your inquiries, Mr. Baggins. Mother and I will be most grateful when my dear wife is returned home and this dreadful business is ended. Good evening to you." With another little bow, Val turned to leave.
"So that's Mr. Stillwaters," Sam said, watching warily as the gentleman exited. "What did he want?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Frodo admitted, and sat down to eat his dinner in some confusion.
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