A Botanist’s Guide to Society and Secrets (SAFFRON EVERLEIGH MYSTERIES #3) by Kate Khavari EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Kate Khavari
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.8 MB
- Price: Free
Cold rain soaking her boots, splashing her stockings, and leaking from the
brim of her ruined hat and onto her face was the least of Saffron Everleigh’s
worries.
No, it was the lingering nausea of the crossing, clinging to her like a
zealous strand of Galium aparine, combined with the exhaustion of
traveling for over twenty hours, that made her miserable and desperate for
the quiet comfort of her flat.
Thanks to the freezing downpour making the November night dreary,
there were no cabs available as Saffron emerged on wobbly legs from the
train station. She’d resorted to the bus, which had been a poor choice, given
her uncertain stomach and London bus drivers’ general propensity for
driving like hellhounds were at their heels. Rather than risking vomiting all
over the passengers of the cramped bus, she’d alighted three blocks before
her stop and had to complete the walk with neither an umbrella nor an
adequate raincoat.
Given the late hour, her quiet Chelsea street was dark, save for one flat.
The warm lights emanating from the top floor of her building drew her like
a bee to bee balm, promising a hot cuppa, a bath, and home.
She trudged up the stairs, her numb fingers fumbling with the pins of
her hat. At the top, she eagerly pounded on the door. It swung open, and the
anticipatory smile on Saffron’s lips died.
Standing at the door to her flat was a stranger. He was youngish, tall,
gangly, and wore wire-rimmed glasses and a look of haughty indifference.
“Yes?”
Saffron blinked, checked the number on the plate next to the door, then
looked back at the stranger. He had glossy blond hair in a washed-out shade
of flax and very pale skin, which made the redness around his mouth and
neck more apparent. His tie was loosened, she saw as she followed the color
to his neck and then to his haphazardly buttoned waistcoat. At a loss, she
asked, “Er—who are you?”
He lifted a brow. “Pardon me. Who are you?”
“Who’s at the door, darling?” asked a voice from within the flat.
Saffron made to look around the man, but he moved with her to block
her view. She glared at him and called down the hall, “Elizabeth?”
The man bristled, propping his hands on his hips and doing his best to
loom over her. “Now, see here—”
Behind him, Elizabeth Hale popped around the corner at the end of the
hall. “Why, hullo! You’re back! Don’t just stand there. Colin darling, move
aside so she can come in!” She disappeared around the corner.
The haughty man—Colin, apparently—grudgingly retreated to the
parlor without a word. Saffron stepped inside and negotiated removing her
woefully soaked coat just inside the door. She could hear Colin saying
something and Elizabeth’s husky alto replying.
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