Page 32 of A Season for Scandal

The sound of the doorbell being rung exploded through the air.

Perfect.

I eyed my weeping family with apprehension. “I’ll go and get that, shall I?”

Leaving them to compose themselves, I headed out of the dining room, along the hallway, and then down the stairs that led to the front door at the side of the shop.

When I opened it, I found Oliver and Mrs Finch standing outside. I felt a wave of relief at the sight of Mrs Finch’s steady countenance. She looked utterly calm, treating me to that small half-smile of hers.

Oliver, on the other hand, was pale and miserably clutching a small bouquet of flowers, which he thrust at me.

“Let’s get this sham over with,” he said, stomping past me into the hallway.

“It was nice of you to bring flowers,” I said as I closed the door behind them and moved ahead of him.

My arm brushed against his as I did so, and I felt a strange, electric tingling running the way down into my fingertips. All at once, I was very aware of how big he was, how much taller than me. And how nice he smelled, like sandalwood and green, open spaces. The air disappeared from the hallway, just for a moment.

Oliver looked down at me with a frown. “Mrs Finch brought them,” he said gruffly.

“No, I didn’t,” she whispered in my ear, when he turned to examine the small entry hall.

I felt something light bubble in my chest at that.

“Um, I think I’d probably better warn you,” I said as I climbed the stairs ahead of them. “My family are quite … excited.”

“I’m sure Oliver will have no problem with playing the doting suitor,” Mrs Finch said tranquilly. “Will you, Oliver?”

His only response was a low growl.

“Very well,” I said, taking a deep breath as I opened the door to my home. “I suppose this is really happening, then.”

The moment the door swung on its hinges, they were on him like a pack of rabid dogs. I watched in mute amusement as my mother wept into Oliver’s neck while Grandfather pumped his hand up and down.

“Delighted to meet you at last, we’ve been looking forward to it for so long,” boomed my grandfather, a man who had learned of Oliver’s existence approximately fifteen minutes ago.

“Welcome to the family!” my mother exclaimed.

“Thank you,” Oliver croaked.

“Marigold, I thought you said he wasn’t handsome?” Daisy exclaimed with devastating clarity.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“You said I wasn’t handsome?” Oliver sounded offended.

“I said that I didn’t say youwerehandsome,” I corrected.

He scowled, considering this. “I think that’s the same thing.”

“What is wrong with you?” My sister hissed in my ear. “That’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

As the tips of Oliver’s ears turned pink at this, I don’t think Daisy was being as subtle as she intended.

“I’m sure we can all agree my godson is a handsome devil,” Mrs Finch chimed in with a winning smile. “Though I suppose I am biased.”

“You must be Mrs Finch.” My mother disengaged herself and came over to shake her hand.

“Mrs Bloom, you have a lovely home.” It was bizarre to see the head of the Aviary calmly chatting with my mother. In fact, this whole farce was extremely strange, and I was no professional actress. I kept a wide smile pinned to my face, but from the concerned look Daisy gave me, it was edging dangerously towards a grimace.