Page 61 of A Season for Scandal

Mrs Lavigne’s smile began to look a touch frozen. “But surely, sir, you can see that without your introduction it will be very hard for Helene to meet people her own age, to make friendships … perhaps to form an attachment of her own.”

“Mother,” Helene said again, softly, and she and Mrs Lavigne had one of those wordless exchanges that mother and daughter can share with only a glance.

“You know I only care for your happiness, dear,” Mrs Lavigne insisted, and the words held a steel that had Helene’s shoulders slumping with defeat.

“Mrs Lavigne is quite right,” Mrs Finch piped up unexpectedly, and all eyes swung in her direction. She smiled at Oliver, and it was a smile full of schemes. “At the very least, you really do need to introduce Helene to the local gentry as soon as possible. You can’t expect the poor girl to stay cooped up in this house indefinitely!”

“I’m sure Mr Lockhart has no intention of keeping Helene to himself for ever,” Mr Lavigne chimed in.

“Exactly,” Mrs Finch said, “so why rest on our laurels when there is so much to celebrate? You must throw a dinner to celebrate your engagement, Mr Lockhart, while we are still here to enjoy it!”

“I can’t think that is necessary,” he said, glaring daggers at Mrs Finch.

“Surely, there is not time…” Mrs Lavigne began, clearly not wanting the spotlight of their first social event to be on anyone but Helene. “I believe you said you were planning to stay for only a few more days?”

Mrs Finch waved her hand. “Oh, plenty of time for something informal. Dinner, dancing, just a handful of guests.” Oliver’s expression darkened with every word out of her mouth. “Why, I’m certain we could pull such an event together in a couple of days.”

“A couple of days!” Mrs Lavigne exclaimed.

“Yes.” Mrs Finch nodded, and like a magician pulling a white rabbit from her hat, she presented her trump card. “I have received a letter today, informing me that the Duke and Duchess of Roxton are passing through Yorkshire in two days’ time, taking a tour of the north, and I know that they are close friends of yours, Mr Lockhart… What better opportunity to celebrate your engagementandintroduce them to your lovely sister?”

A brief, dazzled silence followed this announcement.

“The Duke and Duchess of Roxton?” Mrs Lavigne uttered, once she had picked her jaw up from the floor. “I – I had no idea you were acquainted, Mr Lockhart.”

Oliver cast another dark look at Mrs Finch. “Yes, we are acquainted, though I wouldn’t say…”

“Roxton, Roxton,” Mr Lavigne murmured, his tone thoughtful. “Now, didn’t I read something about his marriage in the society papers recently?”

“Indeed you did!” Mrs Lavigne exclaimed with some agitation. “It was the social event of the decade! A double wedding, with the St Clairs, at St George’s no less. Why, even the Prince of Wales attended!”

“It was a miserable crush,” Oliver grumbled, and then reared back at Mrs Lavigne’s high-pitched reaction to these words.

“Youattended the wedding?” she screeched.

Before he could reply, Mrs Finch cut in. “I believe Mr Lockhart was part of the bridal party.”

“Only because that damned fool Max—”

Oliver was stopped short here, by Mrs Lavigne murmuring “Max” in awed tones.

“From whatIheard,” Mrs Finch said sweetly, mischief in every word, “it was a beautiful service. Very emotional. Why, even thehardestheart might have been moved to shed a tear.”

“The church was very dusty,” Oliver said hotly.

“Well, well,” Mrs Lavigne all but purred. “This does put quite a different light on the matter. The Duke of Roxton! It seems Helene will be moving in very high circles indeed.” The naked calculation on her face was hard to miss.

“Oh, but surely I am not—” Helene began, colour high on her cheeks. “We shouldn’t put Mr Lockhart to such trouble. I couldn’t … that is … aduke!” This last word was spoken in such distress that one would think Mrs Finch had suggested Oliver introduce Helene to Lucifer himself.

“Nonsense.” Mrs Lavigne dismissed this outburst with barely a flicker of acknowledgment. “But can an appropriate event really be put together in so short a time?”

“I’m sure with Mr Lockhart’s resources nothing is impossible,” Mrs Finch said. “Marigold and I will speak to Beth.”

Clearly understanding – as I did – that there was a reason Max and Izzy needed to descend on the house, Oliver was left with little choice but to concede.

“It seems it is all decided,” he said sourly.

Mrs Lavigne stood, flustered. “Thank heavens we went to York yesterday, for I have a whole new wardrobe on order, but I shall have to impress upon the dressmaker the urgency of my need!”