Nick’s eyes gleamed. “Just so, I’m afraid. My work keeps me busy, usually with travel. I don’t mind though—work is the god we must all kneel to, eh? A better master than Lady Fortune, though.”
No doubt sensing the strange hostility between the two men, Elizabeth announced it was time for drinks. She supplied everyone but Alexander with sherry, provided Alexander with a glass of tonic mixed with some concoction of juices, then slipped out of the room to check on the roast.
That left Saffron with Alexander, Nick, and Colin. Alexander, who was angry at Nick for taking her to see a dead body. Colin, who was not pleased by Nick’s obvious references to gambling. And Nick, who was cheerfully pretending to be unaware.
Nick leaned on the arm of the couch, putting him nearly on eye level with Saffron, and said, “How is your work faring, Saffron? Plucked anything interesting out of the ground lately?”
“No,” she said, unsure if he was referencing dead Jeffery Wells or something else. “How was your trip up the northern line?”
Saffron wondered if Nick was aware that everyone in the room knew that he was no mere agent of the Agricultural Ministry. He shrugged, sipping his drink, and said, “It was highly productive, though examining decay is never pleasant.”
Saffron darted a glance at Colin. Nick must have known Alexander knew it, but she doubted he was aware that Elizabeth had told Colin all her mad ideas about Nick’s real job, including that Nick had found another dead member of a government lab. Colin showed no signs of anything more than vague interest.
It was then that Alexander decided that he would fill the conversational void with a tangentially related tale from one of his expeditions. Saffron was relieved he’d made the effort. It lasted until Elizabeth returned with hors d’oeuvres.
Elizabeth took up the mantle of conversation after that, playing perfect hostess, so that even Colin seemed relaxed by the time the main course was served.
In true Elizabeth fashion, the entire meal was flawless, though conversation continued to be somewhat lacking. Saffron had never thought that Colin’s long, droning stories from his days at Eton might be considered pompous, since many of her and Elizabeth’s friends from their youth had had a similar education. But when Colin asked Alexander about his own school days, and his reply made clear that his days had been spent in average London primary and secondary schools, Saffron realized that the conversation might embarrass either man. Colin did not seem daunted, though he was plainly taken aback.
“I see,” he said leaning back in his chair and idly swirling his glass of wine. “I thought I’d understood from Eliza that you had some connections at that university.”
“No, darling,” Elizabeth said easily, “that’s Saffron. Her father was a professor there.”
“But I thought your father was your grandfather’s heir,” he said, frowning at Saffron. “Or did I misunderstand that too?”
Saffron shifted uncomfortably. “He was, but he had a passion for science, and so he taught at the university for a few years,” she said, hoping that would put an end to the conversation. She didn’t care to have all this family drama laid out on the dinner table.
“I see,” Colin repeated. His tone suggested he didn’t quite see.
“Tell us about your people, Smith,” Nick said. He’d been quiet for most of the meal, responding with his jaunty amiability when addressed, but Saffron had caught him eyeing Colin on more than one occasion.
Colin shrugged. “Not much to tell, really. Pater works in investments.”
“They live in town?” Nick asked.
“Gads, no,” Colin said with a laugh. “No, they live over in Bath, of all places. My mother is convinced her health requires it, though everyone knows that nonsense about Bath water is drivel.”
“The minerals found in spring waters can be very effective in treating a number of ailments,” Alexander said. “Magnesium, for example, has been well documented in improving muscle and nerve function in mammals.”
This sent Colin into another long tale involving his mother and his aunt and their quest for the most efficacious curatives that ended up being a costly waste of time. Saffron couldn’t help but suspect that Alexander was rather enjoying Colin’s blathering on, she guessed because it so clearly bothered Nick. He’d lost some of his blandly pleasant manner through the evening, as if even his brotherly mask couldn’t stand up to his active dislike of Colin.
Saffron didn’t know whether to be amused, impressed, or concerned. But at least she was no longer thinking of her grandfather and his demands.
Dessert arrived at last. When Elizabeth disappeared into the kitchen to bring the butterscotch cake, Saffron nipped out to the landing to retrieve the bottle of champagne she’d hidden out there to keep cool. Alexander had obliged her by taking the champagne glasses out of the cabinet in the corner of the parlor and had them ready for her.
“Oh!” Elizabeth said softly when she returned to the room, cake-laden tray in her hands, and saw her guests were all raising a glass to her.
Saffron beamed and took the tray from her to set on the table. “To the dearest friend anyone could ever ask for, happy birthday. I wish you health, happiness, and the very best of what life has to offer.”
In a few weeks’ time, when it was Elizabeth’s turn to toast her on her own birthday, she’d no doubt come up with something more elaborate and polished to say, but Saffron received a watery kiss on the cheek from Elizabeth all the same.
Nick added his own well wishes. Everyone drank. Alexander’s barely passed his lips, Saffron noted, and Colin was eying them all in a strange way as he finished off his glass. Saffron ignored his obvious lack of celebratory spirit. Elizabeth seemed happy, especially once Saffron had passed her a generous glass of champagne for herself, and that was enough for now.
“You were no help with Colin at all,” Saffron hissed at Alexander, adding a playful elbow jab to his stomach for good measure. They’dbeen left alone in the parlor when Elizabeth walked Colin to the door and Nick excused himself for a moment.
He caught her elbow and pulled her down so they sat hip to hip on the couch. “If you were in the jungle and saw a hapless deer about to be eaten by a jaguar, would you try to help the deer, or let nature run its course?”
Shocked by the macabre joke, and perhaps a bit giddy at his closeness, she burst into a nervous laugh. “I suppose not, but goodness, why on earth would you call Nick a jaguar?”
