Chapter 4

Saffron barely noticed Alexander next to her as she pounded up the steps. Her mind was too loud with all the things she wished she could throw at him, accusations and more sarcasm and outright shouting about him being a selfish, manipulative man.

None of it would come out, however, because underneath all that frustration at his hypocrisy was an appreciation for the absoluteness of his apology and his loyalty to his family. Even if she couldn't trust that his apology was entirely genuine, it was very hard to be completely angry with a man who'd humble himself to help his brother. Not to mention he said he thought she could actually help the inspector solve the case.

But that too could easily be a manipulation. He knew that saying such things would work in his favor.

At the top of the stairs, Saffron shoved her key into the lock and pushed the door open. A wave of warm air scented with a savory dinner and traces of lingering bleach poured into the cold hall.

Saffron turned to tell Alexander good night, but before she could get a word out, Elizabeth was clattering down the hall.

"Saffron! And Alexander, what a pleasant surprise!"

Saffron opened her mouth to explain that it was not a pleasant surprise at all, but her words died as Elizabeth came to a stop before them. She wore one of her best dresses, burnt orange with yellow floral lace appliqué, and flawless makeup that left no hint of her cleaning frenzy on her person. But the smile stretching Elizabeth's scarlet lips was more of a desperate baring of teeth.

"Is your brother still here?" Saffron asked.

"Yes, and I've just brought out coffee," she replied. "Won't you join us? Alexander, come and meet my brother, Nick."

Alexander's sudden stillness behind Saffron drew her attention away from the obvious subtext of Elizabeth's invitation, that she didn't want to spend another moment alone with her brother. Saffron turned to see that his face, which had been open and earnest during his plea, had shuttered. After a brief glance at Saffron, he said, "Of course."

They removed their coats and were chivied down the hall by Elizabeth. She briefly squeezed Saffron's cold hand in her own warm one, though Saffron didn't know if it was in warning or gratitude.

The parlor was bright and inviting. The table that Saffron used as a desk had been dragged from the window to stand before the fire, lingering debris from supper layered atop.

A man rose from the couch as they entered. He was tall and solidly built, as all the Hale family were, and had the light, sandy coloring all three siblings shared. But that was all that Saffron found familiar in the man smiling broadly at her.

His eyes were crinkled into a warm smile, his teeth even and white. He wore some of his weight in his jaw and neck, both giving the impression of a sturdy character to go with his frame. His thick hair was short and neatly brushed back on his high forehead.

He stepped forward to meet her. "But this is never little Miss Everleigh, terror of all Bedfordshire," he said with a chuckle.

Saffron offered him her hand. "How do you do, Nick? It's been a long time."

"An awfully long time," he agreed, not releasing her hand right away. Instead, he held her away slightly, taking her in with friendly appreciation. "Long enough for you to be unrecognizable, apart from those Everleigh blues."

A slight flush rose in her cheeks, and she slipped her hand from his. "I'm afraid even ten years won't change my eyes."

Nick chuckled again. Saffron wasn't sure what she'd expected, but he was nothing like the stuffy sort a decorated military man was likely to be. He was all ease and smiles, perhaps even a hint of flirtation.

Scowling, Elizabeth said, "Well, don't let the two of us interrupt your jolly little reunion."

Saffron cast her an exasperated look as she took Alexander by the elbow to draw him further into the room. He'd stopped just inside the door.

When the two men were face to face, she said, "Nicholas Hale, this is my colleague, Alexander Ashton."

"Pleased to meet you," Alexander said somewhat stiffly, offering his hand.

"Mr. Ashton." Nick took it with a still broader grin. "Call me Nick. I'm Elizabeth's older brother."

They broke their handshake, and an awkward silence fell, with only the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional snap of the fire in the hearth to ease it. Alexander looked at Nick, Nick looked steadily at Alexander, and Elizabeth seemed to be trying hard to look anywhere but at her brother.

"Coffee," Saffron said, recalling it just as the scent found her over the smell of eau de cologne and rain-dampened wool. "Shall we?"

They settled onto the couch and armchairs, with Saffron pouring and doctoring each cup to the liking of her companions.

"So," Saffron began as she handed Nick his black coffee, "I'm afraid I haven't any idea what you're doing these days, Nick, so much so I cannot even introduce you with your proper rank. What does the army do to keep you occupied these days?"

"Not enough," Nick replied cheerfully. "Not enough entertaining things, anyway. I'm now former Major Hale. Though king and country still pull my puppet strings, as it were."

"Nick works for the Agricultural Ministry," Elizabeth said rather acerbically, accepting a cup from Saffron. "It appears our home county has gotten its claws deep in him after all. Agriculture, after the thrills of war. I can hardly credit it."

Nick shot her a grin. "Thrills and a lot of unpleasantness, I assure you. I find the quiet life of paperwork and farms suits me." He turned back to Saffron. "Eliza says you're a scientist, Saffron. Botany, like your father. I'd wager Lord Easting is not pleased by that."

Saffron couldn't help but sigh at Nick's guess. No, her grandfather was not at all pleased with her following her father into the sciences. "I believe my grandmother has the greater objection, but no, neither are pleased."

"Now that a terrifying prospect," Nick said, playing up a little shiver. "Viscountess Easting always knew how to express that infamous displeasure with such bone-chilling hauteur. I don't envy you in the coming weeks." He caught the confusion on her face, for he added, "Returning home for the holidays. A very frosty Christmas welcome is in your future, I'm sure."

Like a trowel cutting into damp earth, a hollow opened inside of Saffron. She hadn't been home for Christmas in three years, since the last time she'd subjected herself to her grandparents' scolding in person.

Elizabeth snapped, "Neither Saffron nor I have been back to Bedford in a very long time." Saffron could practically hear her continuing on, something you'd have known if you'd bothered to write more than once a year. Did he know that Elizabeth was all but estranged from their parents, as Saffron was from her grandparents? What had Nick said when he learned his parents had planned to marry Elizabeth off to an old man in a foolish attempt to repair the fortunes that the war had cut in half? Had he known that his sister had all but fled for London, following Saffron when she began studying at the university?

Nick's eyes bounced between Elizabeth and Saffron. "I see I have misstepped. I apologize."

Saffron was aware of Alexander's gaze on her, but when she met his eyes, she saw he was not idly watching her reaction to Nick's apology but looking at her with such intensity she felt she might be scalded if she didn't break eye contact.

"It's no matter," Saffron said, turning back to Nick.

Saffron didn't think Nick missed the glare Elizabeth shot in his direction, for a few minutes of idle chat later, he rose to his feet.

"The hour grows late," he said dramatically, almost like he was quoting a play. "Thank you, Eliza, for the matchless hospitality. The dinner was exquisite, only trumped by the company." He smiled at Saffron and Alexander. "I'll be in London for a few weeks. I hope to repeat this treat soon."

Saffron agreed, privately thinking she'd rather take a stroll in a patch of giant hogweed. She could hardly believe Nick was oblivious to the tension laying like a thick fog in the parlor.

After a round of polite goodbyes, Nick departed. Before the door had even closed, Saffron was pointedly looking at Alexander to make his own exit, and he complied, murmuring a promise to talk more the following Monday, when Saffron would return to campus.

When they were finally alone, Saffron and Elizabeth exchanged weary glances. By mutual unspoken agreement, they tidied up the flat and retired to their rooms in anticipation of the morning, when they would inevitably dissect each word their unexpected guests had said.