Tom raised his eyebrows as he listened, wanting to say sothing but hesitated when he saw Tony winking at him, so, in the end, this honest man just cleared his throat awkwardly and smiled: "Actually... you don’t have to be so ticulous, we’re all rough folks here, hardly able to tell the good from the bad."
"How could it be unnecessary?" She imdiately retorted, her eyes shifting to Ledley: "Chief Inspector Jin, this cup of red tea with honey is for you; I rember you were coughing badly the last ti you ca."
Ledley was taken aback, quickly stood up to take the tea cup: "You rember... thank, thank you."
"Of course, I rember." Fiona smiled and turned to Tony: "Chief Inspector Ackhart, did you notice? These muffins are soaked with rose water; I rember you said last winter your wife loves this flavor."
Tony opened his mouth, feeling his lips go numb: "Uh... yes, thank you."
She slightly lifted the tray in her hand and gave the crowd an appropriately asured curtsy: "Please enjoy, everyone. I’ll be downstairs, call anyti should you need anything."
After a brief silence, the officers exchanged glances.
Plunkett looked at the empty doorway and whispered: "Let tell you, Miss Ivan’s tricks... are tighter than the confidentiality files of our Police Intelligence Departnt..."
Before Plunkett could finish, a light patter of footsteps suddenly sounded by the door.
Everyone instinctively looked over, only to see a familiar silhouette already standing at the staircase; the well-tailored dark grey wool coat swayed slightly, raindrops quietly dripping down its hem onto the carpet.
The black ebony stick was dexterously put away by him, yet before he could personally hand it over, a pearl-gloved hand already reached out ahead.
It was Fiona.
At so unknown ti, she had quietly made her way around the small corridor by the stairs, showing up beside Arthur just before he entered the eting room, her stance so natural as if she just happened to be passing by.
Arthur glanced at her, said nothing, just nodded slightly in greeting.
But inside the room, almost everyone promptly set aside their teacups.
Tom instinctively swallowed a gulp, sneaking a glance at Tony beside him, only to find Tony’s expression even more remarkable than his own.
Anyone could see, and even if one didn’t, they could feel it from these minute details.
Miss Fiona Ivan, one of the top won in London’s underground society, controlling countless underlings and informants, seed to be urgently driven by the sudden appearance of Miss Flora Hastings.
Fiona just steadied the coat and cane as she took them, imdiately instructing the staff to dry the coat in a low voice.
Her actions were crisp and efficient, and if the officers hadn’t witnessed it all, they would absolutely not have felt a hint of deliberateness.
What Fiona did seed to prove to everyone that this wasn’t the first ti and certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Completely oblivious Arthur walked into the eting room, surveying the surroundings, everyone rising to greet.
"Sir Arthur."
"You’re all present." Arthur smiled and gestured for everyone to sit down: "Seems I’m a few minutes earlier than expected."
Fiona retreated not far behind Arthur, tip-toeing to whisper in his ear: "Your tea is brewing; I’ll have soone bring it shortly."
"Much appreciated." Arthur didn’t turn back, rely asked: "Alexander sent a few bottles of perfu from Paris; I left it at Nightingale Mansion."
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