He nodded slightly.
Naturally, the first question that came to mind was “How do you know Nick?”
Next to her, Alexander stiffened. She poked his arm. “Well?”
“That isn’t something I can tell you.”
“But you just said—”
“I find it difficult to discuss Nick with you when you smell like him.”
Saffron gasped with embarrassment and surprise. “What?”
Half the room turned to her with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. She hastily coughed.
She forced herself to be quiet for five minutes. When she was sure the newest topic of discussion, the question of wage increases, had riveted the entire room’s attention, she leaned over to Alexander and whispered, “The house with Wells’s body stank to high heaven and Nick doused my handkerchief with scent. I smell like him so I didn’t have to endure the stink Wells left behind.”
Alexander slanted her a glance, but she couldn’t discern his expression. “I see.”
He was infuriating! “Forget it. Forget all of it. I see your notion of personal questions means questions like a favorite book or food. Nothing real.”
His fist tightened further in his lap. “Nick and I met in Greece.”
Her heart leaped. “During the war?” He nodded, and she asked, “In Salonika?”
With another shallow nod, he said, “I can’t say more.”
“But why were you there? Why was Nick there?”
He shook his head slightly.
She thought furiously about the theories that had crowded her mind over the last day. Despite her protestations, she’d been unable to prevent herself speculating. Lee had mentioned it was a diplomatic trip. Alexander might have had family in political positions, but he likely would have mentioned that when describing Adrian’s unintentional pro-Constantine activities. That would have had greater implications if their family was in a place of political power.
Alexander would have been coming out of healing from his injury then, and if he’d been well enough to travel, he might have been shipped out to fight again. That left only a few options.
Her first guess was the one she’d thought was the most likely. “You were a translator?”
She could feel him going still next to her. She tried to peer into his face. He gave her the smallest of nods.
Relief and something else overtook her in a warm wave. A translator. That was so simple, so reasonable. He wasn’t some sort of spy, like Elizabeth imagined Nick to be. He could speak Greek; he was already in the military. It made sense that he could have been chosen to come along to assist with communication.
And the idea that he’d served England in that way, after he’d already been injured, was admirable. Very admirable.
Saffron did not ask more questions after that. A mystery had been solved, the answer something simple and logical. Alexander had allowed her to figure it out, helped her to understand him. It made sense, too, why he hadn’t simply told her. He’d been keeping his word, he’d said. Of course, he couldn’t just go talking about it; the things he must have heard were confidential.
She was lighthearted when she was called upon to speak. She found the usual self-consciousness that a hundred staff members all watching her brought on was absent from her brief speech about the progress of her pigmentation study.
She was still in the clouds when the meeting adjourned what felt like hours later.
“Will you come to visit the strychnos seeds now?” she asked Alexander as they stood. The words were polite, but the look she gave him suggested it was not the seeds that a visit to her office promised.
His face gave nothing away when he agreed.
The sound of the office door closing was loud in contrast to the utterly quiet building. With the sun disappeared beneath the city horizon, the university had settled into a relaxed state of slumber.
Saffron didn’t feel relaxed in the least. She’d convinced Alexander to follow her up here, but now she wasn’t sure what she wanted next.
“They’ve sprouted,” Alexander commented. He’d moved to the window, where he bent over the third makeshift terrarium. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to do any better than Winters. But your notes were very thorough”—he slanted her a smile—“if a little disorganized.”
