“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?
CHAPTER11
Armed with a headache powder and a thermos of very strong tea, Saffron made it to her office without regretting the previous evening too ardently. The sight of her cuttings and seedlings happily ensconced within the makeshift terrarium helped her nearly forget that her head pounded and her feet ached.
She resisted the urge to stroke a tiny cotyledon that was just poking its head from the dirt. The seed leaf was the promise of something thrilling, and she couldn’t risk damaging it. So she merely gazed down at it, pleasure permeating her like warm sunshine.
She allowed it to fuel her work for a few hours until she deemed she’d waited long enough to return to the Chemistry Hall. Would Savita Datta or her cousin have found anything useful, or would Saffron find she’d wasted a day when she could have been making progress in helping Adrian Ashton?
The Chemistry Hall was humming with activity, but Romesh’s office was quiet and dark. She ought to have been more specific in asking the time Romesh would be available.
