Sutcliffe lurched to his feet. “The entire ecosystem that your greedy stomach relies on would collapse if it got out!” His face had gone an alarming shade of puce. He sat back down heavily, chest heaving.
“He’s right,” Saffron murmured.
Nick gave her a quelling look, but she was quite done taking instructions from him. “Dr. Sutcliffe is right,” Saffron repeated.
“Of course I am,” he grunted. “Humanity isn’t mature enough to not use something like that.”
Nick didn’t reply, but she saw calculation in his eyes. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She was so tired of this. So tired of the contrivance and manipulation. She wanted someone to do something good and right without it costing something.
But as she departed the ministry building soon after, arm in arm with Alexander, she wasn’t sure that was how things would ever be with Nick Hale. Luckily, she didn’t plan to see him, or any of his colleagues, ever again.
EPILOGUE
Three Months Later
The night was dry but cold, making the warm air of the flat all the more welcoming when Saffron and Alexander stumbled inside. In truth, Saffron stumbled, giggling, and Alexander followed with a fondly exasperated expression. As soon as the door closed, that fell away into a heated look she’d come to anticipate.
His mouth had just captured hers when a throat cleared.
Alexander stepped back, and Saffron turned to Elizabeth, blushing. Apparently, her encouragement for Elizabeth to leave the house and go out that evening had not been effective. She stood at the end of the hall, dressing gown tied at her waist and a mostly empty glass of wine in her hand. At least she wasn’t drinking straight from the bottle as she’d been doing almost every evening for months.
“Sorry, Eliza,” Saffron said, stifling another giggle. She’d definitely had one too many cocktails, but keeping up with Alexander on the dance floor was thirsty work.
“Don’t mind me,” Elizabeth drawled. “Only you received a telephone call that sounded rather urgent.”
“Who from?” Saffron asked.
“That lawyer fellow, Mr. F.,” Elizabeth said.
“Feyzi?” Saffron asked, frowning. She’d not heard from Mr. Feyzi since she and Alexander visited him in November.
“Said to telephone his office, no matter the hour.”
The last of her tipsy glow left her. “That cannot be good.” She reached for the telephone.
Alexander frowned. “Would you like privacy?”
She paused, hand on the receiver. She had no idea what bad news Mr. Feyzi might tell her—for that was the only kind of news one received at nearly midnight. “Yes, thank you,” she said softly before speaking to the operator.
Alexander disappeared around the corner, ostensibly going to the parlor. She was glad he hadn’t decided to leave. Things had been going very well between the two of them lately, and she wasn’t quite finished with him this evening.
“Miss Everleigh,” Mr. Feyzi’s voice said.
“Yes, good evening.”
“I apologize for requiring you to telephone so late,” he began, “but I received news from Ellington that I am obliged to pass on to you as quickly as possible.”
Saffron’s stomach dropped. “What is it?”
“Lord Easting has suffered a heart attack.”
“Is he—” She couldn’t bring herself to ask if he was alive.
“He is alive and conscious,” Mr. Feyzi said, anticipating her. “I know scarce more than that. Mrs. Everleigh requested I pass on the message that the family has installed the telephone in the manor and awaits your telephone call.”
Surprise and delight momentarily chased away the worry for her grandfather. If Ellington had a telephone, that meant she could speak to her mother whenever she wanted. They’d been relegated to letters for a very long time, since her mother never left the house anymore.
“I will ’phone there now. Thank you, Mr. Feyzi.” She rang off before he’d finished saying goodbye.
