Chapter 16
After reporting to the guides that the tower was not safe to mount, Saffron intended to do as she ought and document the flora of the area.
But she could see Alexander on the other side of camp, speaking with the other team leaders.
She wanted to see if she could salvage at least a bit of time together.
She sidled up to the group and regretted it when she realized that tension was thick in the air.
“Just spit it out,” growled Balthazar, archaeology’s team lead, his craggy face darkening.
“Dr. Henry—” Alexander began, but the linguist, Hazelwood, cut him off with cleared throat and a frown. Alexander continued, “Several artifacts have gone missing.”
Hazelwood paced away, shaking his head in obvious disapproval, while Balthazar’s mouth fell open. “Why the devil wasn’t I told?”
“Probably because it was likely someone on your team that nicked it,” grumbled Templeton.
“What?” Balthazar rounded on him. “What did you say?”
The historian and the archaeologist began bickering. Hazelwood looked keen to simply walk away, and Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose.
This might be the ideal time for a rescue. Softly, she called, “Alexander?”
His expression was equal parts relief and consternation as he stepped away to where she stood at the edge of the tent. “What is it?”
“Would you like a break?” she asked with an empathetic smile.
“I would,” he said, “but I need to sort this out. If I leave them to it, the whole camp will hear about the missing artifacts and we’ll have a near mutiny, if Balthazar’s reaction is anything to go by.”
Saffron nodded, trying to cover her disappointment with very real understanding. With Dr. Henry off-site, it was up to the team leaders to keep everyone on track. “I’ll see you later, then. At dinner?”
Alexander smiled tiredly. “We’re cooking on the fire tonight. You’ll get to have some true field experiences, after all.”
She squeezed his arm and took her leave. Though the camp was bristling with people, she didn’t see Martin. That was just as well; it would be nice to wander without her little shadow for once.
Notebook in hand, she made a slow circuit of the exterior of the castle ruins.
The interior was open to the elements and therefore also full of plants, but it was currently being trampled by any number of men setting up camp or flitting about in search of something to do.
A number of people were also outside the half-circle of the castle walls, but they paid her no mind as she bent and knelt to dash down names and descriptions of the plants she found along the perimeter.
Sweat trickled down her back as she straightened up after sketching a lovely little plant she could have sworn was a relative of sweet pea.
She stretched her sore back, contemplating returning to camp for water.
Looking around for the direction she needed to go, she found she was a dozen yards from the base of the tower she’d climbed earlier.
The view of the sea would be lovely, now the sun was starting to ease toward the horizon.
She began in that direction, then turned when she heard a faint male voice. Martin walked toward her, red-faced and anxious-looking. She sighed. He’d likely been looking for her this whole time.
Not looking forward to consoling him, she paused—only for him to rush at her like a rugby player and tackle her to the ground.
Something hammered the ground, shaking it underneath her. Pain burned in her ankle.
“Miss Everleigh? Are you all right?”
Saffron blinked and tried to sit up but her head swam. Martin leaned over her, his eyes wide as dinner plates and his hair totally awry.
“I’m all right, I think,” Saffron said, a bit dazed. “What happened?”
“A piece of the watchtower fell.” She looked where he gestured. Just a few feet away now lay a pile of stone, dust still hovering around it.
“The crenellation,” she said, craning her neck back to look at the tower. There was nothing but the side of the tower, blue sky, and tops of the pines.
“I’m sorry—I’m so sorry I pushed you out of the way like that, but it looked like it was going to fall right on top of you! Are you hurt?”
As much as she wanted to say she was fine, her ankle hurt. Badly. She sat up gingerly and tried to rotate it, but pain struck her like lightning. She bit her lip. Something was wrong.
She pushed up, maneuvering around her skirt to crouch on one foot before Martin helped her stand. Pain lashed her the moment she put her foot to the ground.
Martin winced at how she hissed in pain. “I can carry you—”
“That will not be necessary.” Naturally, her leg nearly collapsed on her the moment she attempted forward movement.
Martin lowered her to the ground, and she followed, unable to balance alone. “Don’t move, I’ll run and find someone.”
“No,” Saffron said quickly. “I can manage—”
But Martin was already jogging away.
“Please, just Mr. Ashton,” Saffron called. She huffed disconsolately. This was going to be a nightmare.
Martin didn’t return with Alexander. It was Banks who accompanied Martin around the bend of the castle’s wall.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your work, Mr. Banks,” Saffron said, her facing burning.
“Not at all,” he said, kneeling next to her.
“Not much for me to do around here but translate the same phrases again and again. You’d think the fellows would learn them by now.
Neill said there’s something amiss with your leg, and I see you’ve managed to get your boot off.
With your permission, I’ll just take a look to see what the trouble is. ”
Saffron gave it, and soon Banks was examining her ankle while Martin looked anxiously on, rocking back and forth on his heels while his eyes flitted from Saffron’s foot to anything else.
There was nothing lewd about examining an injury—the ankle was already swollen to something less than attractive—but it seemed Banks was the only one not embarrassed by the situation.
“I’m afraid this will put you out of commission for a few days.
” Banks articulated her ankle, watching her face for signs of discomfort.
She didn’t hide any. “I don’t think it’s broken but it’s certainly hurt.
Let’s get you to camp see if one of the drivers can take you back to the hotel to see a doctor before nightfall. ”
Despite protests against leaving camp and needing a doctor, then further protests when Banks swept her up into his very well-muscled arms, Saffron found her face burning as she was brought back to the campsite on the far side of the castle.
Her bare foot and swollen ankle indicated she was injured, but plenty of their colleagues saw her being carried like a bride over the threshold and looked on with blatant curiosity.
“Ah, there’s Ashton,” Banks said, turning his steps toward the same tent she’d sought him out before.
When he caught sight of Saffron and Banks, with Martin trailing behind carrying her boot, his expression went from confused to concerned in a heartbeat and he moved toward them.
“What happened?” he asked her, his eyes moving from her face, which must have been a tomato by now, to her exposed foot.
“I hurt my ankle, but it’s barely—”
Martin piped up. “A piece of the watchtower fell, sir, and I pushed her out of the way, but I’m afraid her ankle was hurt.”
Alexander backed up to the nearest bench. “Set her here. Neill, get someone to bring one of the motorcars.”
Banks set her down and Neill scampered off in the direction of where the motorcars were parked.
“Neill knocked you over?” Alexander asked Saffron.
“He knocked me out of the way of the falling bit of the tower. He didn’t mean to hurt my ankle.”
Banks gave a brief report of his examination of the injury, adding his experience taught him Saffron’s ankle was definitely in need of several days’ rest despite her looking imploringly at him.
“I need you to go give that tower a once-over,” Alexander told him.
“Martin and I already reported it to the guides,” Saffron said, and they both turned to her in surprise. “Earlier, we’d climbed to the top, and one of the crenellations was loose. Martin nearly knocked it over …”
Realization turned her blood to ice. A wave of dizziness blurred her vision momentarily.
Alexander dropped to his knees, his hands coming up to brace her shoulders.
“I’ll get water,” Banks said, rushing out of the tent.
“Clark saw that piece was loose,” Saffron whispered to Alexander. His eyes flared, but he remained silent. “He saw Martin nearly knock it over.”
He was quiet for a long moment before asking carefully, “You believe Clark tried to drop ruins on you?”
“No. No, of course I’m not saying—” She broke off.
She didn’t like to believe it, but it was all there.
“He’s hated being paired with me, and I’m sure he suspects I helped Banks with the graffiti.
You know how he is, Alexander. Three times already he’s done something to me that could have caused significant damage. ”
His dark brows winged up. “Three? There was the snake, then the storeroom. What else happened?”
She swallowed, but he wouldn’t let her avert her gaze from his. His fingers found her chin, lifting it so she couldn’t avoid his eyes. “What else?”
“He might have put something in my champagne the evening we arrived at the hotel.”
His nostrils flared, and he dropped her chin. He got to his feet, and with hands propped on his hips, frowned down at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“The usual reasons. You’re busy being responsible for the team. I refuse to let you fight my battles. I have no proof it was him. And it was quite enjoyable to see Clark shocked to see me awake and upright the next morning. I didn’t want to ruin it by letting him know his plan nearly worked.”
Alexander ran his hand through his hair in an agitated way. “What do you want me to do?”
“I … I don’t know, truly. It’s one thing to menace me with snakes and things, but if Martin hadn’t knocked me out of the way, I might have been killed.”
“I’ll inform Dr. Henry, then.”
That would be as if she was running off to tattle. “No—” Alexander lifted a brow. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m letting you or Dr. Henry solve my problems.”
“Clark sabotaging you and nearly flattening you with a ruin is not just your problem.”
“It might not have been him,” she said quickly. “I’m upset from the fright of it and the pain. It probably just fell over on its own after Martin loosened it.”
Banks ducked into the tent and said the motorcar would be there in a moment. Alexander stepped over to him and they spoke quietly for a moment, Banks raising an eyebrow to whatever Alexander told him. He jogged off through the gate to the exterior of the castle.
“What did you tell him?” She didn’t like the grim expression on Alexander’s face.
“Nothing. I’ll just go find our team to inform them they’ll be on their own for the next day.”
Saffron caught his hand before he got too far. “Alexander,” she said, pulling him back and onto the bench beside her. “You don’t need to come back with me. I can see a doctor alone. The Henrys and the Demirels are at the hotel, besides. I don’t want you to miss anything because of me.”
“I won’t be missing anything.” His eyes softened slightly. “Believe it or not, I’m fairly used to tending to your injuries.”
“You don’t need to this time. This is just a bruise and some swelling and it’ll be taken care of in no time. Plus, imagine the nonsense Clark will say if you leave with me.”
Outrage momentarily flared in his eyes. “I don’t care what Clark might say.”
They looked at each other, the air around them very warm and still.
Saffron took a deep breath. “I do care. I’m already going to be a laughingstock after Banks carried me into camp like that.”
“He was a stretcher-bearer in the war. If anyone was going to help you apart from me, better it was him.”
Martin cleared his throat from a few paces away. He carried Saffron and Alexander’s bags. “The car is ready, Mr. Ashton. Miss Everleigh, I hope you recover quickly.”
Alexander carefully untangled her arm from his, ensured she was steady, and took the bags to the boot of the motorcar.
“Miss Everleigh?”
Saffron looked at Martin, who was hovering in his usual nervous manner. “Yes?”
“I am dreadfully sorry about your ankle,” he told her, doe-like eyes bouncing between hers. “And I’m sure it is horrible for me to ask a favor of you but—” He swallowed audibly. “This diversion here, to the castle, it means I can’t—there was a young lady on the ship—”
“The one Mr. Clark put you off of introducing to me?”
“Yes, that’s the one. She is in Smyrna, you see, and I was supposed to meet with her this evening.” A bead of sweat tumbled down his temple, and there was an ashen quality to his skin. He looked painfully uncomfortable.
“I understand,” she said quickly. “You didn’t get a chance to send her a message that our plans changed.”
He nodded, and his gaze darted to the left, where Alexander was making his way back up the hill to where they stood. He dropped his voice. “Would you be kind enough to send a note to her and tell her? I can’t bear the thought of standing her up.”
Saffron agreed, and he shared the girl’s name and hotel.
He was still thanking her when Alexander returned, and scuttled away moments before Alexander swung her up into his arms. He ignored her complaints, which were half-hearted as her ankle was now throbbing in time with her heartbeat.
Once he helped her into the back seat, he slid in beside her, and they pulled away from the castle ruins.