Epilogue

Hugh and Dot had left shortly after witnessing the storage of the rubies, and gave Bert a lift in a taxi back to the lodgings he'd started to miss (Mr Butler was a bit too much of a fan of starch in the shirt collar for Bert to want to stay at 221B terribly often). Cec and Alice took a little longer to dislodge, but only because their connection with the outside world, when faced with the likely onset of connubial bliss was … tenuous. Eventually, Phryne shepherded Alice to the taxi with a warm-but-firm arm and an offer of help with flat-hunting.

Dinner was quiet and elegant, because Mr Butler was the happiest anyone had ever seen him, Lin Soo had taken sole responsibility for the cocktails and Elizabeth was in bed, trying and failing to watch the stash on the nursery mantelpiece of lollies that her parents had brought home, because her eyes kept stubbornly trying to close.

After post-prandial whiskies, Jack offered to show Dieter up to bed and make sure he had everything he needed; Phryne meandered through to the kitchen to offer her thanks. Tobias and Soo, having made short work of what washing-up there was, sat at the table cradling delicate cups of jasmine tea. She sank down beside them and accepted another cup then attempted, with an air of carelessness, to ask an impertinent question.

They exchanged glances; Soo spoke first.

"Grandmother would never allow it."

"Leaving Grandmother – an immensely worthy woman, of course – firmly to one side, please understand that we really don't wish to marry, Miss."

"Not wish to, Mr B?" She was genuinely surprised. Mr Butler might not be the triple pillar represented by the other gentleman of the household, but he certainly had some fairly self-evident Doric characteristics.

"It is true, Miss Phryne. For my Tobias," Soo glanced at him, and Phryne was surprised to see a vulnerability in Mr Butler's expression she'd never imagined could be compatible with his omnipotent image, "marriage is what he had so happily and for so many years. What we have now is … something other."

Mr Butler, without taking his eyes off the young woman, finished her thought for Phryne.

"Something … of an adventure, Miss Fisher."

Soo's eyes sparkled with laughter and Phryne felt all of a sudden rather de trop.

It was not a feeling to which she was accustomed, and in case it became an unpleasant new habit, she dealt with it by excusing herself and going to check on the progress Detective Chief Inspector Robinson was making with … whatever he was doing.

It turned out that he was doing it in her bed, while snoring gently, and he succeeded beautifully at Not Minding the interruption. The waking version of Mrs Robinson was, after all, immeasurably better than even the most delightful dream.