Nerves on high alert, Alexander asked with forced calm, “When was that?”
“Just a few days before that party. My mum’s been ill so I went to visit her at lunch …” His words dried up and his ears went red again at Robinson’s impatient eye roll. “Anyway, I was coming back to the U when I saw them on the street, walking and having a grand old time. Her hand on his arm, smiling and talking. Looked cozy, that’s all.”
Robinson stroked his chin. “That might be worth putting another bet on. You know Henry won’t stand for that, even if he chases after anything in a skirt.”
Alexander left a few hours later, the stink of smoke and beer clinging to his clothes. He’d have to get his head on straight before the ship sailed. They’d hassle him every day about having a drink, and he’d give in if he wasn’t careful. He always regretted it when he did, when one led to another, and he found himself barely able to stand. Better not to even start.
The street was damp from an early evening shower, the brisk air blissful after the rowdy, close air of the pub. He’d kept his ears peeled for any further mention of the investigation but heard no more than a handful of doubtful mutterings about Dr. Henry’s leadership. Nothing particularly helpful. Adams seeing Blake with Mrs. Henry just gave more credence to Saffron’s theory they were lovers.
He usually enjoyed talking shop, even with his tipsy friends, but tonight it felt like a wasted evening, with Saffron and her impending meeting never far from his mind.
He’d have to try speaking to her again tomorrow, Alexander thought as he unlocked the door to his flat and stepped inside. Convince her to rethink accepting that meeting, even if it meant accidentally insulting her again.
He sighed, leaning his head back against his bedroom door. Saffron was right. He didn’t understand why she would go to meet with the man who’d not only forced his attentions once, but whom they suspected was involved in the poisoning. The other thing she’d said, him not understanding the struggle to simply be at the university … well, he did understand that. Every day had been a struggle for him for years.
He shucked his shoes and smoke-ridden clothes and sat on his bedroom floor, already taking deep breaths to erase his worries from his mind. It would be a long time before he’d be able to sleep.
* * *
Saffron awoke early, her mind having buzzed all night with ideas for her research project.
The previous evening, Elizabeth had told Saffron to take Berking’s offer and put it somewhere unpleasant. She’d agreed that Alexander was absolutely right about being wary of Berking’s intentions, but she was just as sure as Saffron that it was all but impossible to say no. It didn’t comfort Saffron, but at least she felt understood. To bolster her confidence that morning, Elizabeth gave Saffron her favorite lipstick and promised a gourmet supper before sending her friend out the door with a smacking kiss on the cheek.
Saffron arrived just before eight o’clock at the North Wing. Her hands shook with anticipation as she searched her bag for the keys only to recall they were still missing. She never had found them. Wincing at the prospect of a run-in with the disagreeable maintenance man of the North Wing, Mr. Tummel, she set off to find him in his basement office. He unlocked her office door for her with something that shockingly resembled politeness and promised a replacement key would be forthcoming. She arranged herself in Dr. Maxwell’s office, with reference books on all sides and her original proposal in front of her, and started back where she’d left off the previous evening.
Her hair ruffled and her fingers smudged with ink, at midday she had a new version of her proposal. She wished Dr. Maxwell was there to advise her, or that Dr. Aster was not so intimidating. The three other botany professors were unlikely to give her any help. Saffron sighed and admitted her best option for advice was Alexander, who, though not in her department, was very familiar with research proposals. She fixed her hair quickly and attempted to scrub off the ink on her fingers before knocking at his office door.
“Hello,” Saffron said from the doorway, not willing to feel uncomfortable that they had parted ways awkwardly last night. “I’m sure you’re very busy, but would you mind looking over my proposal?”
He agreed and beckoned her inside. Alexander looked a little worse for wear. His hair was slightly tousled, and he had shadows under his eyes. She tried not to wonder why he looked like he’d spent the previous night climbing through another garden.
He accepted her file and flicked through pages, frowning in concentration. She sat on the couch at first, then stood to examine his bookshelf. Then she went to the chair and sat.