Page 75 of A Season for Scandal

“Maud can fit in just about anywhere,” Win said with a proud smile.

“Where did she learn French?” I asked.

“Oh, I taught her.” Winnie beamed. “Maud has a wonderful ear for languages.”

“Perhaps you could teach me?” I said tentatively. It hadn’t ever seemed necessary before, but the Aviary was expanding my world in so many ways.

“Of course,” Winnie said. “I’d be happy to. Though Maud might be more help.”

“More help with what?” Maud asked.

“Mari wants to learn some French,” Win replied.

A wicked grin lit Maud’s face. “Oh, yes, let’s have the first lesson now.”

The next few minutes passed in fits of helpless laughter as Maud taught me an absurd number of rude words in French, and the waiter delivered us tiny glasses of milky green liquid that tasted like liquorice that had been set on fire.

“Go steady with that.” Maud smirked. “Absinthe is not for the faint of heart.”

“So, Maud.” Maud’s friend, Eloise, stopped by our table, an empty tray in her hand. “What are you doing in Paris?”

“We’re working,” Maud said brightly.

“Ah.” Eloise nodded in a way that made me believe she knew at least some of the truth about the Aviary. Her eyes moved to Winnie and I. “You must be Win,” she said, smiling. “Maud told me so much about you when I was last in England.”

“Yes.” Win’s eyes were soft as she glanced at Maud. “And this is Mari, our newest recruit.”

Eloise and I greeted each other. “So – not that I’m not glad to see you – but is this just a social call?” she asked after some small talk about Paris.

“Yes and no.” Maud twirled her glass between her fingers. “We needed a night off, but I did think if there was information worth having that you might have it.”

“And what sort of information might you be looking for?” Eloise asked, raising her brows.

Maud pulled some bank notes from her pocket and slid them across the table. Eloise picked them up and stuffed them in her apron with a practised nonchalance.

“We’re looking for a couple called Lavigne and their daughter, Helene,” Maud said.

Eloise shrugged. “Never heard of them.”

“What about David Brown?” I asked. “An Englishman.”

Eloise pursed her lips at that. “David Brown,” she said softly, the name sounding musical in her French accent. “There was a man by that name a couple of years ago. A con man based out in Ménilmontant near the cemetery, I think. Ran with a bad crowd.” She tilted her head. “Cheated some dangerous people. I thought he was dead, actually. I’m sure that was the story.”

“Nothing else?” Maud pressed.

“I heard he left England in the first place because things got too hot for him there, but he went back and forth using an alias. Maybe more than one.” Eloise tapped her fingers against her skirt, her face screwed up in concentration. “Yes,” she said thoughtfully. “That was right. I remember because Hugo… You remember Hugo?” she asked Maud with an arch of her brows.

Maud chuckled. “Oh, I remember Hugo.”

Eloise sighed, pressed a hand to her chest and grinned at me. “Broke my heart.”

“Was that before or after you stole his family silverware?” Maud scoffed.

Eloise primmed her mouth, though her eyes still danced. “I don’t know what you are referring to.”

“Fine, fine,” Maud said. “But back to David Brown…”

“Ah, yes.” Eloise nodded. “It was Hugo who knew him a little. Said he had a line on the best forger in England.Real prime stuff, as you would say. Meant he could more or less come and go as he pleased. But that was a while ago. If he’s not dead, I don’t know where to find him. He could well be using a different name.”