Page 21 of A Game of Scandal

“It may be that in this case we could make an exception.” Mrs Finch’s voice was quiet and Izzy’s eyes flew to her. “It’s clear that Felicity is the best, the only person for the job on such short notice, and if your suspicions are correct – which for the record, I am inclined to believe – then the situation is dire enough to warrant extreme measures.” Her eyes took on a distant look for a moment. “Yes,” she said, almost to herself. “I really do fear it is.”

There was a pause, and then she smiled at me. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that Ash had already anticipated this situation. He’s arranged for Felicity to join the game as his guest under a false name. She’ll be masked, of course, and he will assume the hosting duties himself. I’m assured that Felicity’s safety is his highest priority.”

“Oh, well, if Ash says he has it all in hand.” Izzy rolled her eyes.

“I know the boy is a rascal” – Mrs Finch’s eyes twinkled – “but give him some credit, Izzy. I think he might surprise you.”

“This is my sister we’re talking about,” Izzy said fiercely.

“Izzy, I’ll be perfectly safe,” I sniffed, trying to cover the quick burst of emotion I felt at her fierce declaration. “Stop fussing. I’ll simply go to the game and stop Laing from winning too much money. I should think between Ash and myself, we’ll be able to work out if and how he cheats. I’ll keep my ears open for any information you might find useful, then I’ll get in a carriage and come home. It’s hardly scaling walls and ducking knives. All of which I know you do, by the way.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Izzy murmured. She turned to Sylla. “What do you think?”

Sylla was silent for a moment. “I think if Mrs Finch believes it necessary, then we’d be wise to listen. If your suspicions about this Laing character do prove accurate, then he’s a dangerous, unknown quantity, and that simply won’t do. Lady Felicity appears” – here, her eyes drifted over me, taking inventory – “at least fairly competent. She’s clearly outwitted her brother on several fronts.”

I grinned.

“Of course, that particular task is hardly difficult,” she added, delivering a quick, sharp prick to any inflation in my ego.

“I suppose you’re right,” Izzy said reluctantly. “Though I cannot like it.”

“Then it’s settled,” Sylla said firmly. “We have a week to prepare. Felicity may receive at least some training.”

I perked up at that. I didn’t precisely know what training at the Aviary might look like, but I had a feeling it was going to be markedly different from the sort of finishing lessons I’d been subjected to at home. I thought about the moment when I had twisted Davey’s wrist. How I’d felt powerful and in control. Perhaps here I could feel more of that.

“I believe there’s also the matter of reimbursement,” Mrs Finch said.

“Oh,” I said. “Money?”

“Money,” Mrs Finch repeated evenly. “Our cause may be an important, moral one, but as a woman it’s crucial that you demand what you’re worth. You say you’re the only person who could do this? That because of your talent, skill and long years of study, you are the best person for the job?”

“Yes,” I agreed, wishing that my answer had sounded more certain. No one had ever spoken to me this way before.

“Then you should be compensated accordingly.” Mrs Finch brushed her skirts. “Do you think your brother doesn’t get paid for his work? Do you think all the powerful men in this country are out there doing what they do out of the goodness of their hearts? Too often we see women come through these doors because the law and our ridiculous social rules mean that it’s only men who are allowed to care about money, to deal in it, to talk about it, to work for it, to manage it.” She leaned forward. “It may not be pleasant, it may not be right, but it is a fact: money is freedom. If you work for the Aviary, then you will be paid fairly for that work.”

I felt breathless, as if I’d run some great distance. I glanced at Izzy and she wore a small smile.

“Thank you for that,” I said softly. “I believe I needed to hear it.”

“I believe we all did.” Izzy sighed. “So that’s decided, then.” She looked at me, then took a deep breath. “Welcome to the Aviary, Felicity.” She held out her hand, but when I reached to take it, she hesitated. “On a strictly temporary and perfectly safe basis,” she finished.

“Of course,” I agreed, smiling angelically.

CHAPTER TEN

I was in heaven. Funny that it had never occurred to me before that heaven would look like a laboratory above a haberdasher’s, but here we were.

“And, of course, this is a complete catalogue of scientific and mathematical papers and publications,” Winnie said, pushing her glasses up her nose and gesturing to the bookshelves in front of us, which teetered with bound manuscripts. “Thanks to Mrs Finch’s connections we can get hold of things before anyone else. Quite a few of these are awaiting translation, but we have a team that takes care of that. I’m sure you know: the gears of academia grind slowly, so anything we can do to move them along…” Here, Winnie Phillips, third daughter of the third son of the Earl of Newborough, grinned at me.

I was already grinning back. In fact, I hadn’t stopped smiling since I had been introduced to Winnie, and she’d blinked and said, “F. Vane is Max’s sister? How wonderful! Dr Volterra and I have been discussing your work on harmonic progression and I find myself a touch out of my depth. Would you go over some of the figures with me?”

That was three hours ago. Since then, Winnie and I had been locked in her lab, while she peppered me with questions about my work, and I peppered her with questions about hers. I might be a mathematician, but I had more than a passing interest in the scientific world, keeping myself up to date on all the latest studies.

“My work is in natural sciences,” Winnie had said, “though everything must be underpinned by a sound foundation of mathematical study. I’m not working on the same level as you, of course, but…”

It was like music to my ears. Here was someone who was not only a potential friend but a true colleague, a person whose work intersected with mine in several fascinating ways. Already she had shown me several of her experiments that had promise and that might benefit from collaboration. Winnie may not have quite my mathematical skill, and I may not have her breadth of scientific knowledge, but each of us knew more than enough about the other’s field to get lost in excited conversation.

It felt as though something inside me had opened up. As though I had been walking around for years speaking a different language to everyone else, only to finally stumble across someone who understood me. Having been confined to written correspondence with great men who didn’t even know who I truly was, this afternoon with Winnie felt like a gift, a moment bursting with joy.