Saffron’s lips parted in surprise.Thatwas what he’d told her grandfather? “I … saw some of his papers,” she said slowly.
Her grandfather’s scowl deepened. “Not enough for you to go digging around in the garden, no. You had to make it a profession. Now you’re digging about in my son’s things.” He shifted in his seat, looking restless and disgruntled. Saffron realized it wasn’t just because of the scolding he was giving her, but because he would have usually gotten up to pace at this point, and he perhaps couldn’t. Guilt stirred up anew in her chest.
“And not just Thomas’s things! You’ve meddled in police business.Twice.” He shifted again, his eyes going to the mantle, where the photograph of Saffron and her parents sat. “You were never able to sit still when something interested you.” Saffron thought there was a hint of warmth in that comment, but it disappeared with his next words. “But I never expected that incessant curiosity would assert itself so irresponsibly.”
“It is one thing to embarrass the family by taking up a profession,” he went on, “but another to drag our name through the muck. I kept it quiet the first time, never expecting to have to do it again. I barely had the influence to suppress reports of your involvement with police matters a second time.” His gaze had wandered, but he focused on her again, lips twisting bitterly. “I never saw much point in dallying about in town, making nice with the sots who hang about in clubs rather than manage their land. But that means that when I need favors from those same sots, I’m at a disadvantage.” His derisive snort turnedinto a cough. Saffron made to stand to fetch water, but her red-faced grandfather waved her back into her seat. His cough subsided, and his color faded. “I’ve had enough of this, my girl. I’m too old and tired to indulge you any longer, and I’m ready to give your grandmother what she’s wanted from the beginning, which is you, back at Ellington where you belong.”
Saffron’s mouth fell open, a rushing in her ears. “I’m not going back to Ellington.”
“You are,” her grandfather said firmly. “Your grandmother wants you there, and your mother …” He shook his head. “Your mother would benefit from your presence too. I allowed you to stay in London, thinking that you would tire of the challenges of city life without my support. I admit, I had moments when I wanted you to succeed. One has to challenge their spouse on occasion, and your grandmother looked like she’d bitten into a lemon each time I said I’d let you stay.”
That hint of the rascally man she’d known her grandfather to be made Saffron sit forward and say, “Sir, I have succeeded. I’m a researcher now, just like Papa. I—”
Her grandfather gripped the edges of the table and with, a grunt of effort, hoisted himself up. Saffron leaped to her feet, just stopping herself from offering a hand for support. When he was steady, Lord Easting gave her a beady look. “I don’t care, my girl. You could be running that university yourself and I would still bring you back home. Thomas did not work so hard—”
He broke off, coughing again. Saffron took his arm to help him back into his seat.
He rasped out, “You are coming home. Now.”
“I am not,” Saffron said automatically, forgetting to be cowed. “I’m staying here, Grandpapa. This is my home. London is. The university is. There’s nothing for me at Ellington.”
“Your family is at Ellington.”
That stymied her for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “I can’t go back. I would be expected to live as Grandmama dictates until she finds me a husband who will then expect me to live as he says.” She covered his gnarled hand with hers. It was cold, and shesqueezed it gently. “You have always said that we are the sort of people who do things, Grandpapa. You would consign me to a life of sitting in a parlor pouring tea?” He seemed unmoved, so she added, with some measure of guilt, “Is that what Papa would have wanted for me?”
He looked away, lips thinning. “It is not a matter of what I want for you, but what I want for my family. I will not tolerate this tarnish on our family because you would rather avoid a few boring callers.”
“That’s not it at all—” Saffron’s hand tightened on his, but he shook her off.
“Pack whatever you need for the journey. I expect a few of your things are still in your room at Ellington. We can send for the rest.”
He pushed to his feet, steadier this time. He walked to the door, stopping at the threshold expectantly.
“I’m not leaving,” Saffron insisted.
His eyes went cold. “You will.”
The challenge in his words shifted the air between them. Saffron could see her future if she capitulated now. Her life would be nothing but compromises until she had nothing left of the life she’d built for herself here: living independently, exploring the world through plants, earning money of her own with a position that challenged her and gave her opportunities. No more Elizabeth, no more Lee, and no more Alexander.
That was unbearable.
“Don’t make me do this,” she said, suddenly desperate. “Don’t make me choose.”
Her grandfather stiffened. “There is nothing to choose.”
The doorbell rang.
Neither of them moved. Behind her grandfather, Elizabeth tiptoed by, flashing Saffron a wide-eyed look over his shoulder before slipping down the hall to the door.
A low murmur sounded. Alexander.
Her already knotted stomach twisted. She’d barely begun to imagine introducing Alexander to her grandfather, but this was quite possibly the worst moment to do that.
Her grandfather must have read the panic on her face, for he turned and slowly made his way around the corner. Saffron hurried after him.
Elizabeth, now in her evening dress, stood at the open door with Alexander. Elizabeth’s rapid whispering fell silent at the sight of Lord Easting coming toward them.
Elizabeth nudged Alexander out of the way, and they both stepped into the hall to give Saffron’s grandfather space to leave the flat.
