Page 84 of A Game of Scandal

The moment stretched between us, long and slow, and then … he smiled. Touching his fingers to his head in a jaunty salute that managed to be mocking, he turned on his heel and strode from the room.

What did it mean? I wondered. Does he know we’ve found the bomb? But if so, then why had he seemed so calm? So … pleased with himself?

“Felicity?” Mari’s voice snapped me back to the moment.

There wasn’t time to worry about it now, I told myself, and we exited the ballroom, heading for the card room. The Aviary would be keeping an eye on him; we’d found the device. We were almost safe.

A small, bemused-looking crowd milled outside in the corridor (though perhaps “corridor” was the wrong word for a space so big and grand), and two footmen stood in front of a nearby door.

“Heard them say something about a leaking pipe,” huffed one of the gentlemen in the crowd. “In Buckingham Palace! Should’ve ignored the wife and stayed at White’s where it’s civilized.”

“And I was about to trounce Scott with the hand I was holding,” his friend grumbled.

We slipped past them and through the door. The footmen stepped aside wordlessly, so I assumed they had already been briefed on our arrival.

Inside, we found several card tables set up in an ornate room. The place was empty except for Sylla – resplendent in a gown of amethyst tulle – and a man, who I took be one of Max’s.

“Fenton here found it a few minutes ago,” Sylla said without preamble. She gestured to the overturned table beside them. Hidden underneath was a slim wooden box of the same glossy walnut as the table itself. The top of the box had been removed, revealing the neatly packed dynamite, the tangle of wires and the familiar gold pocket watch.

I don’t think I had truly believed the bomb was real until that moment, and my breath caught. Ash’s warm hand slipped round mine and squeezed.

“How on earth did you find it?” I asked.

“I was thorough,” Fenton replied, a clipped soldier-like response that earned one of Sylla’s rare looks of approval.

Fenton kneeled beside the device.

“The good news is it looks as I expected.” He ran his eyes over the device, then with a finger traced the line of several of the wires.

Now that I was so close, I could hear the gentle tick, tick, tick of the pocket watch, each second bringing us closer to disaster. My palms were slick and I wiped them on my skirts.

“Pass me the clippers,” Fenton said, and Sylla held out the small wire cutters.

“You should all go.” Fenton turned to look at us over his shoulder. “Until I disarm this there’s still a chance it could detonate.”

“We’re fine where we are,” Sylla said calmly.

Fenton’s eyes moved to mine. In response, I crouched down beside him. I was going nowhere and I wanted to see what he was doing. Mrs Finch and Winnie would want a full report.

I felt almost alarmingly calm in this moment. I certainly wasn’t about to run away and let a palace full of people – including my mother – get blown up. What if there was some way I could help? Ash hunkered down at my side, pressed his palm to the centre of my back, a small, steadying touch.

Fenton turned his attention back to the bomb, his focus so complete that I was certain that, for him, the rest of us had ceased to exist.

It took only a couple of minutes, though it felt like hours. Fenton snipped through wires and carefully separated the various elements of the device, lining them up neatly on the floor.

“It’s done,” he said finally, and I felt Ash exhale a long, slow breath of relief.

“We’ll still need to be careful with the removal,” Fenton said as coolly as if he had carried out some simple domestic chore, rather than saving hundreds of lives, including the future king of England. “There’s enough dynamite there to blow a nasty hole in the palace. I’ll go and report to Max – he’ll want a quiet removal.”

With that, he stood up and left.

“He did well,” Sylla murmured, which was the most effusive thing I had ever heard her say.

“I saw Laing leave a few minutes ago,” I said, and she nodded.

“Your work here is done,” she said. “You may leave Laing to the Aviary.” The smile she gave me then was one that made me glad she was on my side.

Oliver and Marigold drifted away, his arm round her waist, whatever he was whispering in her ear making her giggle.