Page 80 of A Season for Scandal

With that, we finally began to slow down. I peeled my fingers away from the side of the buggy with a sigh of relief.

“So what do you suggest?” Oliver asked, turning to look at me. It seemed that Sylla was right, and I was going to have to start making my own plans sooner rather than later.

“We must separate Lucy from her parents, and deliver her to the Finches, of course.” I pulled my watch from my pocket. “It is gone three o’clock. If you drop me back at the hotel, I will find some pretence to get Lucy to come to my room alone. You go to Café Fleur and wait for the others. Get them back to the hotel as soon as possible. The sooner we question Lucy Brown, the better.”

“Fine.” Oliver nodded. “But if that doesn’t work…”

“If that doesn’t work, we can take it in turns punching David Brown in the face.”

His eyes slid to me. “I haven’t seen this side of you before, Bloom,” he said. “Bloodthirsty. I like it.”

“Every rose has its thorn, Lockhart,” I replied coolly. “The Aviary is no ladies’ social club, after all.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Back at the hotel, I headed immediately for the salon, where I knew the Lavignes were due to take tea but found no sign of them. Spotting one of Sylla’s contacts working on the reception desk, I drew her aside and she informed me that the Lavignes had gone upstairs to their room twenty minutes ago. Winnie and Maud had entered the hotel right behind them, and seeing the Lavignes – or rather, the Browns – settled they’d headed out to our rendezvous at Café Fleur. I had just missed them.

Thanking the young woman, I made my way straight up the stairs for Lucy’s room. This, I thought, might work to my advantage. Lucy and her parents had separate rooms, and hopefully catching her alone would make it much easier to lure her up to my suite. I hadn’t quite worked out how I was going to do that, but I’d think of something. Perhaps something to do with wedding gowns… After all, shewasposing as the sister of the groom.

Another stab of anger struck. It might have been my job to keep Oliver calm and focused, but beneath my cool demeanour I was burning up. I knew what Oliver’s mother and his sister had meant to him, especially growing up with his father, and the fact that these people had taken something so pure and good in his life and twisted it for their own gain made me feel sick inside.

I moved down the thickly carpeted hallway, towards Lucy’s room, and knocked softly on the door. I didn’t want to alert the Browns in the next room of my presence. There was no answer.

“Helene,” I said quietly. “It’s Marigold. I need to talk to you.” When that produced no response, I tried the door handle, which turned easily.

I gave the door a gentle push and was met by the sound of raised voices. I froze in the doorway for a moment before my brain made sense of where the sound was coming from. There was a connecting door between Lucy’s room and her parents’. The three of them were clearly next door, locked in a ferocious argument.

Slipping into Lucy’s room as soundlessly as possible, I edged towards the connecting door, which had been left slightly ajar.

Heart pounding, I took hold of the handle and slowly, slowly widened the crack until I could peep through to the other side.

Lucy stood in the middle of the room, tears running down her face as she faced her parents.

“I won’t let you do it!” Her voice was high, breathless. “You swore no one would get hurt! You said it was a victimless crime. But it never was. Never!”

“Don’t be hysterical,” Mr Brown responded coolly. “What do I always tell you? We might have to get our hands dirty now and then, but everything your mother and I do is for you. For our family.”

“Family!” Lucy spat. “What would you know about family? Oliver Lockhart cares more about family than you ever did, and I won’t let you hurt anyone. I won’t!”

“Lucy, darling.” Mrs Brown’s voice was soothing. “This one thing, this one small thing, and then we’ll be set for life. We will finally be able to give you everything you deserve. A life of luxury, a place in society, a husband and a family of your own. And no more worry. Never again. No more penny-pinching. No more jobs. A clean sweep.” She set her hand on Lucy’s arm. “You know how much your father and I love you.”

The look in Lucy’s blue eyes was anguished. She turned her back on her parents. “I heard you,” she said, determination in her voice. “Just now. I heard what you have planned, and I won’t be a part of it. I’m going to tell them everything. If you want to avoid prison, you should gather your things and go – get out of here before it’s too late.”

“Lucy, sweetheart,” Mr Brown began, but then Lucy made a soft sound of surprise and crashed suddenly to the floor.

For several seconds nothing moved. I stood with my hands pressed against my mouth to stop myself from calling out as Mrs Brown stood over Lucy’s prone body, arm raised, a small gold ornament in her hand.

“Joan!” Mr Brown sighed. “Was that really necessary?”

With a terrifying cool, Mrs Brown leaned over Lucy and checked her pulse.

“She’s fine, just knocked out,” she said shortly. “We must get on with it before she comes to.”

Mr Brown eyed Lucy narrowly, and the speculative expression on his face made my heart sink and my stomach churn. “What if she tells them the truth after she wakes up?”

I braced myself to intervene. Surely the man couldn’t mean to murder his own daughter?

Mrs Brown scoffed. “She won’t have the stomach after the thing is done. She’s soft; she won’t want to see us arrested. And once the threat is gone, she’ll be living in style. Money can make a person far more amenable to telling a lie or two, I’ve found.”