His complexion was even paler than before. He said he wasn’t contagious, but his fever was shockingly high, and she couldn’t risk getting ill. She noticed a large bottle of quinine on the corner of the desk.

“Malaria?” she guessed.

He gave a brusque nod. “And I assure you it isn’t contagious.”

She understood. Too many of the scientists the Smithsonian sent to the tropics eventually contracted malaria, and it was a wretched, debilitating condition that could haunt a person with periodic bouts for the rest of their life. Quinine was the only known remedy, but all it did was treat the symptoms, it could not cure it.

It was hard to imagine a man this sick would want to see botanical specimens, but he took a magnifying glass from his drawer and waited as she opened the portfolio. After unbuckling the straps of the deep interior pocket, she lifted out the first of several specimens. The plants had been meticulously pressed, then secured with tiny strips of gummed linen to the parchment.

He used his magnifying glass to scrutinize the leaves and stem. “What’s in the envelope?” he asked, nodding to the packet taped to the bottom of the page.

She opened the flap to extract a pod and dozens of tiny seeds, laying them on the white parchment for closer examination. He denied being a botanist, but the fierce way he studied the seeds could have fooled her.

When he spoke, he said the last thing she expected.

“You have no idea how badly I want to taste those seeds.”

“You can’t!” she gasped.

“Why not?”

“They are valuable scientific specimens,” she sputtered.

“Bah! They’re useless to mankind unless we know how they taste. There are over a hundred varieties of vanilla orchids. How can I know if this one is worth cultivating without a taste?”

She swept the seeds into her palm and carefully replaced them in the envelope. She risked a glance at him and was once again caught off guard by the humor glinting in his eyes.

She stilled. “Were you joking?”

“Were you trying to pass off a cheap reproduction as a valuable map?”

She sent him a helpless smile. “I needed to get my foot in the door.”

“And you succeeded. Let’s see the rest of what you’ve got. I promise not to wolf down any of your valuable samples. Besides, as a botanist, you ought to know that vanilla seeds aren’t all that special. Most of the flavor is in the skin of the pod, and even then, it’s not fully developed until it has been processed.”