Page 24 of A Game of Scandal

“Well, of course,” Maud said. “It’s good business sense. Anyway” – she put her hands on her hips – “that’s enough of a rest for you. We’ve got a week to work on you. Let’s see what else you can do.”

PART THREE

One week later

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“It’s a good thing Max is still away,” I said as Izzy busied herself, doing up the long row of buttons that ran down the back of my gown. “This time at least I can leave by the front door, rather than via the pear tree.”

It was the night of the card game – one week since my first visit to the Aviary, and my life had been transformed from something quiet and solitary into a busy, bustling whirlwind. It was not lost on me that this was precisely what Mother and Max had promised me when it came to preparing for the season, though I was finding nothing but pleasure in this alternative experience.

Mother’s fast-approaching visit loomed over me, with under two weeks to go until she was due to arrive. I was clinging to the hope that, by the time she was here, Izzy and I would have convinced Max that a season was unnecessary. Max’s continued absence was making this particular plan harder to put into place – whatever business was keeping him away appeared to be dragging on, and we had no definite idea when he would return.

“I used to use the trellis up the wall at my mother’s house,” Izzy replied with a nostalgic sigh. Then she gave her head a shake. “Besides which, if Max were here, you’d still be using the door, because we would have told him everything.”

My eyes met hers in the mirror. “Of course we would,” I said on a laugh.

“No, Felicity, don’t,” Izzy protested. “You make me feel wretched. I hate the thought of lying to your brother. I’m sure when he returns and we explain it all to him, he’ll understand perfectly.”

“And if he doesn’t, you can kiss him until he forgets,” I said lightly.

Truthfully, I knew what Izzy meant about deceiving Max. It felt as though I’d accidentally forced her to take sides against him. I may not always agree with Max’s decisions but not for one moment did I doubt that he loved me, that he wanted what was best for me.

Whatever qualms Izzy herself was feeling, she must have pushed them aside, smiling brightly at me in the mirror. “This gown is so becoming, Felicity, and a different style to your usual wardrobe.”

“Mrs Finch arranged it for me from her dressmaker,” I said. “I’m supposed to be playing the merry widow, so I could hardly go out looking like the debutante I am.”

The gown in question was a gorgeous rustle of peacock-blue silk with an emerald sheen that glinted in the light. It was scooped low at the front, though a frivolous fluttering of Italian lace stopped it short of being indecent. I found that I much preferred it to the insipid pastels I was typically laced into.

“Mrs Williams,” Izzy said, as though trying the name out.

“An ordinary name, isn’t it?” I murmured, still a bit disgruntled. “Mrs Williams. You’d think I’d have something with a bit more flair. After all, I’m about to infiltrate a late-night poker game with a potential criminal.”

“That’s precisely why you don’t need flair,” Izzy said firmly. “You look dashing, but you must remember that you’re not there to take any risks. You’ll stop Laing from winning too much, and you’ll observe and listen. That’s all, Felicity, do you hear me? Or I really won’t be able to look your brother in the eye.”

I’d been preparing hard for the game all week. If I wasn’t training with Maud (or on one, particularly terrifying occasion, Sylla), then I was calculating equations with Winnie, or playing cards with Mrs Finch. The latter had been an instruction in the art of the bluff – I had never met someone so inscrutable.

When I asked Mrs Finch how she kept her face so still and blank while she was playing, she said, “I simply imagine I am listening to a man expound on the subject of financial planning. I find that usually does the trick.”

Before this evening, Izzy and I had hardly seen one another. Her charm (the name, I discovered, that described a group of Aviary agents – or “Finches” – who worked together) was still keeping an eye on Edward Laing, though I understood his movements had not been suspicious.

The upcoming game had occupied so much of my time that I had begun dreaming about it – terrible, clawing dreams mostly, of smiling men and endless streams of numbers that kept jumping out of reach, of giant playing cards and smoky rooms lit by ruby-red light. Occasionally, these dreams were punctuated by an appearance from Ash who I hadn’t seen all week, and those ones troubled me in a very different way … mostly because I was disappointed to wake from them.

“You worry too much,” I said now, adjusting the neckline of my gown. “Honestly, I’ve been getting away with far more daring scrapes than this over the last two years. Only, you didn’t know about them.”

Izzy briefly closed her eyes, looking pained. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes,” I said staunchly. “Have a bit more faith in me. Maud said I was a natural.”

“A natural at getting away with things?”

“It seems to me that is a huge part of the job,” I replied.

There was a pause.

“You’ve worked hard this week,” Izzy said, and something tentative played around the edges of her words. “I know Mrs Finch has been pleased with you. Would you join the Aviary?” she asked finally. “On a permanent basis, I mean. If they asked you?”

It was a question I had asked myself many times over the last seven days. I turned to look at her, trying to gauge her expression, but it was hard to read. I shook my head.