Page 29 of A Season for Scandal

“So either Helene is Ellen, or the imposter met Ellen at some point?” Sylla summarized.

Oliver’s jaw ticked again. “Precisely. As it stands, the Lavignes seem convincing enough to warrant further investigation. They have remained in my house in Yorkshire, where my staff are keeping an eye on them until I return. I did not want them anywhere near London while I came to consult with you, though they believe I am looking into their claim.”

There was a long pause as this sank in.

Finally, Max broke it. “I can certainly dig around for some more information on the accident, but it seems to me that the Aviary will be best equipped to deal with this particular problem.”

“Naturally,” Sylla said. “I take it we will be sending someone to Yorkshire?”

“Yes,” Mrs Finch said calmly. “We’re going to send Mari.”

My squeak of protest was drowned out by Oliver’s horrified “You’re going to sendwho?”

“Izzy’s charm is busy with a separate case,” Mrs Finch said. “And, besides, Mari is perfect for the part.”

“What part?” I asked suspiciously.

Mrs Finch sipped her tea serenely. “The part of Oliver’s fiancée, of course.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Mywhat?” Oliver was on his feet again in an instant, outrage written large on his face.

I had been temporarily stunned into silence. Max leaned over and slipped another scone on to my plate in a welcome display of support.

“It’s simple,” Mrs Finch continued, unruffled. “We need to infiltrate Oliver’s home and be able to ask lots of impertinent questions and poke around the house, searching the Lavignes’ rooms. Oliver’s intended bride would have every reason to be extremely interested in both the house and his family. Mari is well placed to go, and with her skill at talking to people, at reading them, she is the perfect plant. Sylla, Winnie and Maud will collect whatever information they can about the Lavignes’ history, and the accident itself.”

Sylla nodded. “I see. Perhaps a trip to Paris is in order. I have been meaning to make a visit to Worth for some gowns.”

“Win and I can hold down the fort here,” Maud said. “And follow up on whatever information Max digs up.”

“I haven’t even finished my probationary period!” I protested weakly. “And what about the shop? I can’t justleaveand go to the middle ofnowhereand pretend I’m gettingmarried.” I started panic-eating the scone.

“This will be an important part of your training, and Sylla said you did well the other night.” Mrs Finch smiled.

“I said her work showed potential,” Sylla was quick to correct her, lest I ended up getting an inflated sense of my own skills.

“And you won’t be going alone,” Mrs Finch continued. “I will go as your chaperone. Your godmother, perhaps. You do have one, I suppose?”

“Yes, of course,” I murmured, dazed. “But how would I possibly explain this to my family?” I managed thickly. Six months later, the lies I had to tell them still sat heavy in my stomach, no matter how important I knew it was to keep my secrets.

Sylla waved a hand. “Oh, that part is easy. You will simply tell them that Oliver Lockhart has declared his intentions and that you’ve been invited to a house party so that you can get to know one another better in a chaperoned environment before you agree to an engagement.”

Thankfully, I had already swallowed my scone as my mouth dropped open at this. “You want me to tell them I ambeing courted? Byhim?” My voice was shrill as I gestured wildly at Oliver, who now looked offended.

“What’s wrong with me?” he demanded.

“We have to tell your family a story that is as close to your cover as possible, in case the Lavignes send someone to check you out,” Sylla said, her tone practical. “When you return, you simply tell them you found the two of you didn’t suit, but that you had a lovely time in the lap of luxury. And besides” – she lifted her eyebrows – “if you explain that a very wealthy man has declared his honourable intentions and wants to whisk you off on a tour of his castle, don’t you think they’ll all be delighted to help take care of the shop while you’re gone?”

“Well, yes, I suppose,” I said, knowing that my family would probably want to throw a parade, especially after the whole Simon debacle.

“It’s not a castle,” Oliver murmured sulkily.

“Itissort of a castle,” Izzy put in.

“This is what agents of the Aviary do,” Sylla told me. “We haven’t spent all this time training you for our own amusement.”

“If it helps, Max and I had to do something similar last year,” Izzy piped up.