Page 26 of A Season for Scandal

My eyes locked on to Oliver who was standing with one arm propped up against the top of the fireplace, as though he thought he was some sort of Austen hero. It was strange to see him in person again. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of him over the last six months, though I had almost convinced myself I had imagined just how dangerously handsome he was. Unfortunately, if anything, my memories didn’t do him justice, and the sight of him now was creating a rush of peculiar feelings that I didn’t have time to sort through.

His black suit, stark in its simplicity, was cut to perfection. In fact, everything about him was severe and buttoned up. Despite the warmth of the day, he wore his long, dark coat, which gave the impression he did not intend to stay and make himself comfortable. I felt an overwhelming and bizarre urge to mess up his necktie and tuck a daisy behind his ear.

“We haven’t exactly been formally introduced,” I said.

Izzy grinned. “Well, I can take care of that. Oliver Lockhart, please meet Miss Marigold Bloom. Mari, this is Oliver.”

Oliver snorted. “Marigold Bloom? What a ridiculous name. It sounds made up.”

There was a brief, awkward pause.

“I suppose all names are made up, really,” I said cheerfully, and it was Maud’s turn to choke on a laugh.

Something flashed in his eyes. “And what is MissBloom” – Oliver said my name as if he remained dubious of its authenticity – “doing here exactly? I thought you said whoever was on her way would be able to help me.”

“Marigold is one of our newest recruits,” Mrs Finch said matter-of-factly. “Indeed, it is thanks to your intervention that we found her, and I think we can all be grateful for that.”

There was a murmur of agreement and Max appeared at my side, smiling down at me. I blinked, momentarily overwhelmed. Looking directly at Max was a bit like looking into the sun. I still wasn’t used to his gleaming handsomeness. I had heard that in society he was considered something of a stiff, haughty figure, but around the members of the Aviary he always seemed utterly relaxed and his manners were flawless.

“Here, Mari, come and sit down and have a scone,” he said, offering me his arm like the gentleman he was. “They’re delicious.”

“He’d know,” Maud said with a sly grin. “He’s had three already.”

“Shall we get back to the matter at hand?” Sylla asked, pouring herself a cup of tea. “Now that Mari isfinallyhere.”

“I only sent her the note half an hour ago,” Izzy protested.

Sylla simply harrumphed as though the limits of time and space did not apply to her.

“Miss Bloom may be one of you,” Oliver said grudgingly, “but I still don’t understand whyheis here.” He gestured to Max.

“This is my house!” Max mumbled around his fourth scone.

“Oliver, I know it is one of your favourite hobbies, but don’t be rude to Max,” Izzy chided, coming over and standing next to her husband. “Or I shall write to Beth with several new and exotic seafood recipes.”

“You wouldn’t!” Oliver hissed. “That woman is a menace in the kitchen as it is.”

“She absolutely would.” Max grinned up at Izzy. “My wife is ruthless.” The way they looked at one another made something ache in my chest.

“Oliver, Max is here in his governmental capacity. Once you lay out the whole story, then we will be able to decide if his help is required or if this is strictly an agency matter.” Mrs Finch accepted the plate that Winnie brought over to her.

I felt my eyes widen at that. I knew that Max was involved at a high level with secret governmental business, but it was rare for his work to intersect with the Aviary’s. I got the impression he and Izzy were careful to keep their jobs as separate as possible. I was also surprised to hear that Mrs Finch was considering taking on a case for a client like Oliver Lockhart – men of means tended to be able to solve their issues in far less covert ways than we typically offered.

“Everyone sit down and have some tea and something to eat,” Izzy said, gesturing to the cluster of chairs arranged around the tea table, “then we can talk it all over.”

“Isthere anything left to eat?” Sylla lifted a brow. “Now that Vane has got his big bear paws on the cakes.”

“I can always ring for more,” Izzy said, cutting across whatever retort had sprung to Max’s lips.

For a moment everyone settled in, and I was not displeased to find myself with my own plate laden with goodies. Izzy’s cook really was excellent.

Reaching into my big leather bag, I pulled out a small box full of lavender shortbread, which I slid stealthily across the table to Max, who was sitting beside me. His eyes lit up as he palmed the box, slipping it into his pocket. Having discovered Max’s sweet tooth when he visited the shop and devoured an entire tray of biscuits, it was an unspoken agreement that I brought a box whenever I visited.

“Marigold Bloom, if I wasn’t already married…” he began, and Izzy elbowed him in the side.

Oliver made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl.

“So, Oliver,” Mrs Finch said, drawing his attention back to her. “Why don’t you tell everyone what you told me?”