Page 84 of A Season for Scandal

Helene’s eyes shone with tears. “Mother was going to send for him,” she said. “When we were in Spain. I don’t know the details, but she told me he would come. She wouldn’t have just left him. Not like I did.”

“You were a child,” I insisted.

“What more could you have done?” Lucy grasped her hand again. “It is a miracle that you survived at all. Now the two of you can be reunited. The story will finally have a happy ending. Your mother would be proud.”

The three of us sniffled then.

“This is… This is very nice tea,” I said, clearing my throat.

Helene gave a watery chuckle. “I buy English tea. I can’t help myself; I never did learn to like coffee.”

I looked at Lucy, something tickling at my mind. “Ah, so that was part of your Helene backstory?” I asked. “Don’t tell me you actuallydodrink coffee?”

Lucy winced. “I couldn’t be sure what Oliver knew or remembered, and Helene always hated coffee.”

“Horrible, bitter stuff,” Helene agreed.

“What a poor Frenchwoman you are,” Lucy said fondly. “I will be very glad to go back to drinking it.”

“Coffee,” I murmured, still reaching for the idea that refused to come quite into focus. “But … didn’t you say…”

I sat up suddenly, sloshing tea into my saucer. “Coffee!” I yelped.

Helene and Lucy were both looking at me with obvious concern.

“Lucy,” I managed. “Didn’t you say that your parents were going to poison Helene’scoffee?”

Lucy frowned. “I suppose thatisstrange.”

“They knew she didn’t drink coffee because you made such a point of it. Why would they say that?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Lucy said. “Perhaps my father misspoke?”

“But how were they planning to poison Helene’s drink, anyway?” I said slowly. “It doesn’t make sense. They’re not even here. It’s such a strange plan…” I looked at Lucy, her expression one of wary confusion. “Tell me again what they said,” I demanded. “Exactlywhat they said.”

“Um…” Lucy squinted, clearly trying to remember. “Father said, ‘Now that we have the packet from the chemist, we shouldn’t delay.’ He said the coffee would mask any taste.” Lucy’s face scrunched up in concentration. “Then Mother said, ‘Perhaps this trip to Paris was a blessing, after all. Now we have the opportunity to eliminate any remaining threat far from home and prying eyes.’”

“But England isn’t their home,” I said slowly. “Or Helene’s. Go on,” I encouraged her. “Say the rest.”

“I don’t remember,” Lucy said. “I think then Mother said something about a document that I didn’t understand.”

“What about a document?”

“She said that their man over here was almost as good as the contact back in England anyway, so it didn’t matter about the authorities being on to him.”

The forger, I thought, the pieces tantalizingly close to fitting together. The one who had forged the Browns’ papers had the authorities breathing down his neck, thanks to Max. That must be who they meant, so perhaps they had another man in Paris who could do something similar. What sort of papers would they need forging now?

“What else?” I demanded.

“That’s it. Then they said that with Helene gone nothing would stand in their way, that I would be the only heir.”

“You’re sure?” I said, gripping the edge of the table. You’re sure they said withHelenegone?”

“I…” Lucy hesitated. “I don’t know… No … perhaps not. But who else stands in the way of me becoming the only heir?”

A buzzing noise filled my ears, and I swayed in my seat. “It wasn’t Helene they meant to kill at all. It is Oliver,” I whispered. “They’re going to poison Oliver.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE