Chapter 10

"Adrian," cut in a hard voice from Saffron's left.

Alexander, the actual Alexander, had materialized at Adrian's side. Seeing the brothers next to each other made her question how she'd ever confused the two. Alexander was slightly taller, broader, and infinitely more serious looking. "Would you excuse us for a moment?"

Adrian's grin didn't disappear, but he seemed to deflate. Saffron couldn't make out his reply, but he leaned closer to Saffron and said, "A pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you again, miss." He disappeared into the crowd.

Saffron rounded on Alexander. "How dreadfully rude you are."

"May I speak to you?" His eyes only met hers on the last word, following Adrian out of sight.

"No." A distant, entirely sober part of her knew she was being silly to refuse him after being angry with someone who'd turned out not to be him, but he had been abominably rude, sending his brother away without an introduction.

"Please," he said through gritted teeth.

She glared at him but waved for him to lead the way. He took her hand to guide her, but rather than using the front door as she'd expected, he led her to a nearly invisible door off the side of the dance floor. It led to a dim corridor devoid of any of the interior's glamor with its scuffed floor and the paint stained and peeling. With the sound of the band slightly muted, she could make out the sounds of a busy kitchen at the other end of the hall.

"What are you doing here?" Alexander asked the moment they came to a stop.

"Dancing," she shot back.

The long look he gave her suggested he imagined otherwise. "I'm here with Elizabeth and her brother," she added, exasperated.

"Nick and Elizabeth are here," he said, not as a question.

"We're celebrating Elizabeth's birthday." He examined her in a way that brought heat to her already flushed cheeks. "What?"

"You've been drinking."

She bridled. "I am enjoying a night out with friends. Or I was enjoying it. What is the matter with you, Alexander?"

He didn't reply, merely swiped a hand over his jaw. It was not clean-shaven, suggesting he'd not made the effort to prepare for an evening out, or he hadn't had the time. She took in the rest of him. His dinner jacket did not fit him as well as it had before. It strained at his shoulders, as the rest of his suit jackets did. Hadn't he said something about rowing after he'd returned from the Amazonian expedition?

Perhaps her scrutiny made him uncomfortable, for he took half a step closer to her, dropping his voice. "I'm sorry for being abrupt earlier. It's just … I did not intend to introduce you to Adrian this way."

Saffron grimaced. She obviously hadn't made a very good first impression, interrupting his date so aggressively, only to babble like an idiot when he confronted her.

His expression matched hers. "Adrian does not present the best image of himself in … such circumstances."

"Adrian was perfectly nice," Saffron said, confused. There was something about him that tickled her mind, however, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Possibly she just found it odd that a man accused of murder was enjoying a night out.

She sighed, recognizing that some of the glow of the evening that had been lost was not going to be regained. "I'll have to speak to him eventually, for the case. I'm afraid my involvement is not off to a good start. Inspector Green did not accept my offer of assistance."

"Why not?"

"You know why," Saffron said impatiently. "Conflict of interest. But it doesn't matter, I managed to get some information to start with. Between the chemists helping with the inquiries and Lee looking at the autopsy notes, I—"

A gabble of male voices startled them as two waiters carrying trays of food and drink emerged at the end of the hall. Saffron and Alexander had to press themselves to the grimy wall, and the pair gave them amused glances as they passed.

Alexander frowned down at her. "Lee is helping?"

She returned his frown, silently daring him to make an issue of it. "Yes."

"That is … decent of him," he said, his tone leading to an unspoken question.

"It is. But friends do favors for friends, don't they?"

He didn't reply but gave her a thoughtful look that lasted only a moment before he was offering her his arm. "Enough of my interruption. You were here to have a good time. Let's return you to it."

Saffron thought Alexander had changed his mind about her spending time with his brother when they emerged back into the smoke and music of the club, since he did not immediately usher her toward her companions. Pleasantly surprised by his change of heart, for reasons she didn't care to identify, she searched for the tall, gangly form of Adrian on the dance floor.

But Alexander twirled her, sending her tipsy head spinning, and she landed hard against his chest a moment later. When her eyes could see straight, she realized they were moving in time to the beat. He was dancing with her.

It was perhaps unfair to have assumed that because Alexander was rather a reticent man, and a scientist at that, dancing would not be something he'd be good at. But he moved as if he'd taken to the dance floor as often as he scrutinized bacteria in a microscope.

A giggle bubbled up in her chest at the thought. Alexander looked down at her with a small smile.

"You can dance," she said through a laugh.

"I can."

"I'd never have guessed." His smile faded somewhat, and the loss made her feel unexpectedly sad. "Odd, we've never had the opportunity until now."

"Hopefully we will again."

Saffron had taken dance classes growing up, the waltz and several other steps that she found she rarely even thought about, let alone used in the ballrooms she'd been expected to swan around in. Even if she hadn't relocated to London, she doubted she'd have found herself often using them. The world had changed so much since she was a girl, standing up with the younger of Elizabeth's two brothers, Wesley, to learn dances in the stuffy ballroom at Ellington. Grand estates with their monthlong house parties, grandiose balls, and tightly rehearsed teas were increasingly a thing of the past. Fortunes had been lost and made in the war, not to mention the shifts in society meant the world to which her grandparents belonged was dwindling. Saffron found, as she twirled the floor of a somewhat disreputable dance club in the arms of a man her family would likely not approve of, that she was rather glad not to belong to it any longer.

"Where did you learn to dance?" she asked Alexander when the song ended and a slower one began. "I was given lessons. They were dreadfully boring, even with the amusement of watching Elizabeth attempt to flirt with our instructor constantly."

"That must have been quite the sight."

"It was. She'd bat her eyelashes and find excuses for him to correct her form. It made her brother very cross." She laughed to remember how Wesley would grumble under his breath about it as they toddled through the steps of the polka.

"Nick attended dance lessons with you?"

"No, Wesley. He was the middle child in the Hale family. You saw his photograph at our flat."

His expression, which had grown remote, softened. "Your sweetheart who died at Flanders."

Saffron swallowed, looking away. She didn't want to think about Wesley at Flanders, not now. "And you? Where did you gain your mastery?"

"In clubs not unlike this one," he said. "My brother and cousins are all several years older than me. I was always pulled along with them on their misadventures. They had a friend who used to own a place similar to this, and I spent many evenings as an undergrad with them."

The answer was so unexpected that she laughed again. "I can't imagine you making plans to dance all night!"

"I assure you, I did not. Adrian and my cousins, on the other hand …"

"I think it's nice they wanted to bring you along. I'm not very close with any of my family save for my cousin, John." But speaking about John would require her to think about France again. "Are you still close with them?"

"They were not thrilled I chose to pursue academia rather than join their business. But bacteria called to me." He chuckled, and she could feel the vibration of it in her own body.

The sensation lasted only a moment. The band erupted to life, and their conversation died as the foxtrot demanded their attention.

When her legs felt as if they would give out and her cheeks hurt from smiling, she dragged Alexander from the dance floor. He was not even winded, though sweat dotted his brow. As she looked for Elizabeth or Nick, her eye caught on Adrian Ashton once again. He stood at the bar, laughing with a trio of men who shared his dark features. Saffron squinted at them through the smoke. "Are those the famous cousins of yours?"

Alexander turned to follow her gaze, and she thought she saw unease cross his face. He cleared his throat and drew her arm tighter through his. "We ought to find Elizabeth. It's getting late."

Saffron allowed him to pull her away. It was likely very late, and she would already be regretting the hours dancing, not to mention drinking, come the morning.

Elizabeth's dancing partner seemed disappointed when she abandoned him to drape her arm around Saffron's shoulder and babble about how grand Lou's was and how they had to come back soon.

Nick materialized soon after, looking as fresh as when he'd arrived on their doorstep. "Ashton! Good to see you, old man. How do you do?" He offered Alexander his hand. "Like jazz, do you?"

Alexander nodded. "I trust you'll see the ladies home safely."

If Nick was bothered by Alexander's rather rude lack of greeting, he didn't show it. He bobbed his head with a pleasant smile. "I will. Girls, let's heave-ho and find a cab."

Alexander escorted her outside alongside Elizabeth, who seemed to be leaning heavily on her brother. On the curb, Nick summoned a cab and helped Elizabeth inside. He made as if to offer Saffron a hand inside as well, but Alexander subtly moved ahead of him to hand her in himself.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said firmly.

Then Elizabeth was saying something, and he backed away. At the sound of the cab door closing, Saffron turned back to see Alexander had shut it. She peered out, wondering if Nick had decided to stay at Lou's, but he was speaking to Alexander.

She could only imagine what was making Alexander look so serious as they spoke. Nick, on the other hand, clapped Alexander's shoulder and grinned before swinging the door open and clambering into the cab himself. He gave the driver their destination, and the cab rolled away. Through the window, she could see anger lingering on Alexander's face, cool and controlled but present nonetheless.

What in the world had that been about?