Page 32 of A Game of Scandal

“During the game, Laing mentioned a man who had died,” I said. “Peregrine Archer. He was shot in the street some time ago and died yesterday morning of his injuries.”

Mrs Finch’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I received word of it earlier this evening,” she said, and I knew it shouldn’t be surprising that she had the news before anyone else.

“The other players were upset,” I began, but I was interrupted by Winnie.

“Huh,” she murmured.

Mrs Finch’s head whipped round. “Anything the matter, Win?”

“No, no,” Winnie said, sounding distracted. “Only the device is a touch more sophisticated than I expected and there does seem to have been a failsafe that I might have accidentally … activated.”

“What do you mean, activated?” I squeaked.

“Right, on to Plan B,” Sylla said, scooping up the parcel while Winnie made a sound of protest, and carrying it over to the window.

“I thought you said that throwing it out of the window was an embarrassing suggestion,” I murmured as Sylla lifted the glass and glanced out at the street below.

“It was at the time,” Sylla replied coldly. “However, one must be prepared to adapt to ever-changing situations.”

With that, she hefted the device out of the window as hard as she could. A heartbeat later, the room filled with a flash of light and the floor beneath us trembled as a deafening boom split the air.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

An hour later, I arrived back at home, well and truly done in. It had been a long night, culminating in an actual explosion, and I was ready to collapse into bed and sleep for three to four days.

I had left the Finches in a cheerful enough mood. There had been no damage to the building, the device being relatively small. (“If they’d really wanted to blow us all up, it would have needed a much greater charge,” Winnie had said. “Though that failsafe was ingenious. I suspect it was the order in which I cut the wires that did it. I wonder if there’s anything in the debris I can examine…”)

Pushing my way through the front door, assuming that even Wheeler was not awake at this hour, I was startled when Izzy erupted into the hallway, looking pale and anxious. I should have known she’d be waiting up for me.

“Oh, Felicity!” she exclaimed, wringing her hands. “It’s terrible.”

How on earth had she found out already? I wondered.

“It was only a very small bomb,” I said, my tone reassuring.

“I—” Izzy came to a halt. “Bomb? What bomb?”

“I don’t… What were you talking about?” I asked, confused.

“I was talking about your mother. She arrived early – not long after you left. What’s this about a bomb?”

“At the Aviary,” I said. “My mother is here? Now?”

“At the Aviary!” Izzy exclaimed.

“Goodness, Izzy, you act like you’ve never seen a bomb before,” I said distantly, because in the grand scheme of things, the (very small) bomb had already happened and I was demonstrably fine, but my mother arriving almost two weeks early in a fit of excitement over my first season was a real catastrophe.

“What did you tell her about where I was?” I asked.

Izzy sighed, but seemed to accept the shift of priorities. “I told her you’d already gone to bed because you were up late last night corresponding with one of your academic friends.”

I nodded. “Excellent,” I said, then my shoulders slumped. “Only now she’s going to expect me to be up shortly, and I’d like to sleep for a week at least.”

“Poor Felicity,” Izzy said, coming forward to take my hands. “You do look tired. How did it go at the club?”

“I won,” I said with a yawn. “Laing didn’t seem too worried, which is worrying in itself. I took the money to Mrs Finch, and there was a parcel there that exploded. Sylla threw it out of the window first, so it didn’t damage much except my ears, which are still ringing.” I was overcome by a wave of exhaustion that left me swaying on my feet.

“All right,” Izzy said, calmer now, and I took a moment to think how nice it was to have a sister-in-law who wasn’t perturbed for long by bombs and murderers and unexpected mothers-in-law. “At least your work with the agency and Laing is finished now, so that’s one less layer of subterfuge we’re managing.”