Page 53 of A Season for Scandal

Helene cleared her throat, looked down at her hand once more.

“Hmmm.” Mrs Finch ran her finger gently over the scar. “Well, it makes it harder to read of course, but it is another long, well-curved line and so I think it is safe to say there is another happy ending in your future. You will find love, Helene, and it will be a great love that lasts many years.”

“Oh!” Helene flushed with colour. “Do you think so? I—”

“My goodness, and what is going on here?” Mrs Lavigne’s arch voice shattered the moment, and I turned to find her entering the room with Oliver on her heels.

“Good morning,” I managed, and he gave no outward sign of any discomfort beyond his usually surly demeanour.

“Mrs Finch was telling me about her grandmother,” Helene said, and I couldn’t help noticing that much of her stiff unease had returned with Oliver’s presence. “She was a spiritualist, and Mrs Finch was reading my palm.”

Helene had snatched her hand away, and now had them both neatly folded in her lap.

I saw Oliver’s eyebrows twitch ever so slightly.

“It is only a game, really,” Mrs Finch said lightly. “Sadly, I do not have the same power that my grandmother possessed, but I do enjoy the practice of palmistry, so intriguing what one can divine. It’s why I was so unsurprised when Mr Lockhart declared his intentions towards my goddaughter. It was clear to me from the beginning that the two of them were destined.” She leaned forward, tapping her nose knowingly. “Matching heart lines.”

“How interesting,” Mrs Lavigne said. “I had no idea. And did I overhear something about Helene’s romantic future?”

“Bright indeed, Mrs Lavigne,” Mrs Finch replied, while Helene blushed again.

“I do hope so.” Mrs Lavigne smiled. “My greatest wish for my daughter is the same happiness that I have found with her father. In France we were not really in a position to bring Helene out into society, but I expect that will change soon.”

Oliver looked startled and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Oh. Yes.” It appeared he had only just realized he might have some responsibility in presenting his unmarried sister to the rest of the world. A responsibility that would certainly involveother people.

Mr Lavigne bustled through the door at that moment. “I see I am a lazy oaf this morning.” He beamed. “My apologies.”

“Not at all, my dear,” Mrs Lavigne said. “It seems you have beaten the cook to breakfast, after all. Poor Beth seems ratheroverworked.” She smiled sweetly at Oliver, who only scowled back.

“If Beth wants any help, she only has to ask,” he said shortly. “She has the running of the house well in hand and has for many years.”

“Of course,” Mrs Lavigne acquiesced, condescension in every word, “when one has been a bachelor for so long, I suppose that is the way these things happen, but soon Lockhart Hall will have a new mistress.” She treated me to one of those long looks that felt like honey over steel. “I’m sure Miss Bloom will makemanychanges.”

As Oliver’s frown deepened at this, I could only assume that Mrs Lavigne was attempting to remind him that marriage would disrupt the running of his house in ways he might not like.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Oliver surprised me by jumping in first.

“Miss Bloom, of course, will have whatever she wants.”

I felt colour burning in my cheeks.

“Can I pour anyone some more coffee?” Oliver asked, seemingly untroubled.

“Not for me, thank you,” Helene said when he held the pot over her cup. “I was just telling Miss Bloom that I never outgrew my dislike of it, despite being practically a Frenchwoman.”

“That’s right,” Oliver said easily. “I had forgotten.” I knew it for a lie, could read it in his face, though I doubted anyone else could. He had been gently testing her again. And she had passed. Again.

At that moment, Beth and Barker appeared, carrying in silver chafing dishes that they lined up on the side table against the wall.

After two more trips, they lifted the lids from the dishes revealing piles of bacon, sausages, cold meats, kedgeree, grilled tomatoes, devilled kidneys and fluffy scrambled eggs.

My stomach gave a growl of appreciation. It seemed that breakfast was the meal at which Beth shone, and from the pleased look on her pink face, she knew it too.

We descended on the spread with enthusiasm, and when I sat back down it was with a plate piled high.

“Forgive me, Beth.” Mrs Lavigne held up her hand, and I realized she hadn’t partaken of any of the food on offer. “Would it be possible to get just some thin porridge and perhaps a plate of fruit?” She cast a smile around the table. “A lady must sadly sacrifice to maintain her figure.”

“Of course,” Beth said politely, heading back towards the kitchen.