“I’m going to see Jarl and find a meeting where I can ask some subtle questions about Alfie Tennison’s possible radical connections. If Wells owed him money, Alfie could have forced him to do something crooked at the laboratory. And you …” She swung around, still pacing. “You’ll have to go back to Harpenden.”
“I haven’t had luck finding out what’s going on there. It’s too hard to look around where I’m not meant to without someone noticing.”
“Then go when no one is around and look at everything you can get your hands on,” Elizabeth said grimly. “We’ll break in. Poke around. Tonight.”
“You just said you need to see Jarl.”
“Drat.” Elizabeth propped her hands on her hips. “Take Lee. He seemed to enjoy our outing to Le Curieux Cabaret.”
“I’ll take Alexander,” Saffron said as the idea came to her. “He’s the one who identified the fungus, after all. He knows laboratories better than any of us.” She pursed her lips, recalling how Lee’s hand had lingered on the small of her back, how his eyes had dipped to her lips during their adventure at the cabaret. “You should take Lee with you instead. You’re right, he did enjoy the outing, but I think it was for the wrong reasons. I don’t want him to get ideas.”
“I’d wondered if you’d noticed that.” Elizabeth’s lips pursed. “It’s Alexander, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes,” Saffron said, surprised by her suddenly serious tone. “He and I are together now.”
Elizabeth’s expression softened. “No, darling. It’sbeenAlexander, hasn’t it?”
The truth of what Elizabeth suggested sank through her, sending her heart fluttering. She nodded, temporarily robbed of words.
With a comforting hand on her shoulder, Elizabeth gave her a bracing smile. “For all his flaws, Lee is a decent fellow. I doubt he’ll hold it against you.” She smiled rather viciously. “But if he does throw a fit, feel free to toss him right into the bin along with Colin. Poor fellow will need some company.”
CHAPTER37
Breaking and entering was best done in the warmer months, Saffron decided. Summer would be ideal, for lurking outdoors would be pleasant rather than cold. She’d never plan criminal activities for the winter again.
She and Alexander had arrived at sunset in Harpenden. He’d agreed immediately to her scheme, asking only once if she felt it was a good idea, and had kept quiet after she admitted she was wary but determined to get Nick out of their lives.
She’d known there was a cluster of new homes being built further down Milton Road, providing a convenient, if uncomfortable, place from which to watch the activity at Number 28. The windows of the lower level, where the laboratories were, had been dark for hours already. It was nearly ten in the evening. Another hour, and Saffron was sure the few lingering lights above stairs would be extinguished.
A gust of wind swept through the half-finished house, and Saffron burrowed further into her coat. The cold had set in as twilight came upon them. She’d not thought to wear trousers, and her freezing legs were complaining about it. She’d already wrapped her scarf around her ankles.
Alexander’s voice drifted through the dark. “You can see the house fine from here.”
“But then I can’t see the road. Believe me, I would much rather be taking advantage of your body heat.”
His chuckle faded quickly, and they went back to sitting in silence.
They’d eaten sandwiches from the Dancing Sparrow soon after they’d settled in the defunct house, but they’d neglected to bring anything to drink. Her mouth was sticky and dry, and not just from the corned beef. Her realization about the extent of her feelings for Alexander had kept her tongue-tied, unsure what, if anything, she ought to say to him about it.
“I had to do this during the war,” he murmured. He was all but invisible, just a black shape against a dark wall, but she perceived him turning to her.
“I often took night watch,” he said. “I preferred it to the daylight duties on offer between bouts of shelling. Better to watch and wait than clean dishes or shore up the breastworks.”
Saffron had no idea what to say to that. She didn’t often hear about the mundanities of war, and she’d least expected them from Alexander. After poking at his secrets for the past few weeks, she didn’t imagine he’d tell her much willingly.
“I thought it would be exciting,” he continued, “being the one to raise the alarm if I caught sight of a light or heard gunfire.”
“Did you?” She’d never thought of him as the sort of person to seek out excitement in the form of outright danger. He’d been scolding her off such pursuits for nearly the length of their acquaintance.
“I did,” he said, almost wistfully, but it disappeared from his voice as he continued. “That was how I came to be injured. Command planned to take a place called Sugarloaf. It was a small rise that the German bulge occupied. We were to attack from the west. A division of Australians were to come at them from the east. I volunteered to do some scouting. I had no business going, but I was sick of standing around waiting. It was a warm, quiet day, the sort that once you got far enough away from camp, you might have forgotten we were at war.” He shifted in the darkness. “We lingered too long and were caught by surprise when the shelling started before the attack. I don’t remember much after the shelling began, but I remember seeing movement in the grass, and my companions yelling to take cover. I can only guess what happened, but I think someone panicked and threw a grenade. The blast caught us, but I was damned lucky. The debris set my uniform on fire, but the ground was wet, so only my right side burned. Theremaining member of my party dragged me back to camp. I missed the attack, which proved to be my salvation. I was unconscious, on my way to the field hospital while my peers ran to their deaths.”
Without making the conscious decision to do so, Saffron rose and went to where Alexander sat. She sank down next to him so she faced him, his face touched by faint silver light.
He had not fallen into his recollections, she realized. His depthless eyes were sharp on her.
“The leadership had vastly underestimated the Germans’ preparations. They—” He broke off with a sigh. Her hand moved to cover his. The leather of their gloves kept their skin from touching, but she felt the connection nonetheless. “Suffice it to say, it was a disaster. Nearly an entire battalion of Australians were killed. My own division came out badly as well.”
In the heavy, silent darkness, Saffron was struck with understanding of his reluctance to speak about his days as a soldier. They’d been short and harrowing, but his injury marked a mistake, a mistake that allowed him to keep his own life while thousands of his fellows perished. She could not fathom the guilt he must have felt, the unwarranted shame of it.
