Chapter Fifteen

"My what?" Oliver was on his feet again in an instant, outrage written large on his face.

I had been temporarily stunned into silence. Max leaned over and slipped another scone on to my plate in a welcome display of support.

"It's simple," Mrs Finch continued, unruffled. "We need to infiltrate Oliver's home and be able to ask lots of impertinent questions and poke around the house, searching the Lavignes' rooms. Oliver's intended bride would have every reason to be extremely interested in both the house and his family. Mari is well placed to go, and with her skill at talking to people, at reading them, she is the perfect plant. Sylla, Winnie and Maud will collect whatever information they can about the Lavignes' history, and the accident itself."

Sylla nodded. "I see. Perhaps a trip to Paris is in order. I have been meaning to make a visit to Worth for some gowns."

"Win and I can hold down the fort here," Maud said. "And follow up on whatever information Max digs up."

"I haven't even finished my probationary period!" I protested weakly. "And what about the shop? I can't just leave and go to the middle of nowhere and pretend I'm getting married." I started panic-eating the scone.

"This will be an important part of your training, and Sylla said you did well the other night." Mrs Finch smiled.

"I said her work showed potential," Sylla was quick to correct her, lest I ended up getting an inflated sense of my own skills.

"And you won't be going alone," Mrs Finch continued. "I will go as your chaperone. Your godmother, perhaps. You do have one, I suppose?"

"Yes, of course," I murmured, dazed. "But how would I possibly explain this to my family?" I managed thickly. Six months later, the lies I had to tell them still sat heavy in my stomach, no matter how important I knew it was to keep my secrets.

Sylla waved a hand. "Oh, that part is easy. You will simply tell them that Oliver Lockhart has declared his intentions and that you've been invited to a house party so that you can get to know one another better in a chaperoned environment before you agree to an engagement."

Thankfully, I had already swallowed my scone as my mouth dropped open at this. "You want me to tell them I am being courted? By him?" My voice was shrill as I gestured wildly at Oliver, who now looked offended.

"What's wrong with me?" he demanded.

"We have to tell your family a story that is as close to your cover as possible, in case the Lavignes send someone to check you out," Sylla said, her tone practical. "When you return, you simply tell them you found the two of you didn't suit, but that you had a lovely time in the lap of luxury. And besides" – she lifted her eyebrows – "if you explain that a very wealthy man has declared his honourable intentions and wants to whisk you off on a tour of his castle, don't you think they'll all be delighted to help take care of the shop while you're gone?"

"Well, yes, I suppose," I said, knowing that my family would probably want to throw a parade, especially after the whole Simon debacle.

"It's not a castle," Oliver murmured sulkily.

"It is sort of a castle," Izzy put in.

"This is what agents of the Aviary do," Sylla told me. "We haven't spent all this time training you for our own amusement."

"If it helps, Max and I had to do something similar last year," Izzy piped up.

"And that worked out perfectly," Max said quietly.

I darted a glance at Oliver, who was looking at the lovestruck couple with such obvious disgust that it was almost funny. Still, Sylla was right. Working with the Aviary wasn't a game, and I couldn't quake at the first big challenge they set me.

"All right," I said. "I suppose if it's just for a few days it should be fine. Although" – I cast a look at Oliver – "you do realize you'll have to meet them all?"

"What?" Oliver looked confused.

"My family," I clarified. "If I'm going to disappear with you to join this house party, it's going to look a bit strange if you haven't introduced yourself. You don't have to actually propose, but you need to…" I cleared my throat, the words coming haltingly. "You know… Appear to be making the effort to … woo me."

Oliver's face had turned a sickly shade of green. "No," he said firmly.

"You asked for our help," Mrs Finch reminded him. "This is the most efficient way to get answers."

"Why can't you just come as guests?" Oliver said desperately. "Why do we have to be" – he eyed me resentfully – "engaged?"

"Give me another good reason why you – a bachelor – have invited a young, unmarried florist and her godmother to stay in your house and dine with you and your family and wander around the house asking a lot of questions," Mrs Finch said.

"I – I—" Oliver stuttered. "Perhaps I want her to … arrange some flowers for me."

The look Sylla gave him was withering. "It is of absolutely no surprise to me that you desperately need our help."

"Developing a sudden interest in flower arranging may be stretching it a bit." Max pressed his lips together as though trying not to laugh, and Oliver skewered him with a glare.

"And let me ask you this." Mrs Finch leaned forward, a knowing glint in her eyes, "What possible reason have you given the Lavignes for haring off to London and leaving them kicking their heels in Yorkshire?"

"I told them I needed to speak with the lawyer," Oliver said stiffly. "To look into the information they gave me."

"So their guard will be up," Mrs Finch said. "Whereas we want them to relax. Let them feel like you believe them, so they let something slip."

"Yes, it's much better if you rushed down to London to propose to the love of your life," Maud said. "And what could be more natural than to bring her home to meet your long-lost sister?"

"So romantic," Winnie murmured.

Oliver made a strangled sound.

"Don't worry, Mr Lockhart." I managed a smile, my spirits perversely buoyed by his obvious discomfort. "I'm sure my family will love you."

The queasy look on Oliver's face deepened.

"Good." Mrs Finch stood, shaking out her skirts. "So Oliver will call round to Bloom's tomorrow afternoon and declare his intentions to court Mari, then we'll all set off for Yorkshire."

She said it as though she was talking about stopping in at the grocer's.

"Time to put you out in the field, Mari." The smile Sylla gave me was sharp. "And we'll see just what you're made of."