Page 33 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

A disapproving expression marred Dameer’s features. “I suppose you’ll be changing then?”

Kalila turned to the disguise that currently hung on a hook. She didn’t want to wait. Having her paper at the university made her feel vulnerable, as if she’d left a piece of herself in the laboratory. “I could, but—nobody will be there, you know.”

“I don’t know,” Dameer said, following her as she made her way out of the room. “And neither do you.”

Still, she felt fairly confident that she was correct. Room 107 was only locked after nightfall, especially since Virginia still called the back corner her home and therefore had to be made accessible to the Zoological Society. All Kalila had to do was slip in, grab her paper, and slip out.

And she needed her paper. More than anything.

“You’re welcome to walk with me,” she offered.

Dameer sighed, running his hands through his wild blond curls. “Fine. But I can only walk as far as the university. You have to promise me that you’ll find a hack to bring you home.”

Kalila pulled a bonnet over her hair as they stepped out onto the bustling pavement. “Are you expected at Willow House so soon?”

Dameer sighed. “I am. They’re having a ball tomorrow and are in the midst of tying up all the loose ends. Well, my aunt is, anyway. You know how she is.”

Kalila grinned as she thought of Aunt Dalia, with her henna-reddened hair and disregard for propriety. She was her English husband’s polar opposite—Jasper Wilmot was as sensible as he was subdued. They made an entertaining pair, and Kalila had always enjoyed visits with them.

She looked at her cousin from the corner of her eye. “Will you ask Amelia to accompany you?”

Dameer’s cheeks went from pale to pink with startling speed. “I already have. Caroline, as well. You’ll be expected, too.”

“I’ll be there,” Kalila said, knowing she owed her cousin that much, at least. “I promise.”

They came to a stop a few steps away from the university.

Dameer, ever anxious, began to fidget with his neckcloth before asking, “What if you’re caught?”

“I’ll simply pretend to have lost my way,” Kalila reassured him. “It’ll be fine, Dameer. I saw everybody leave the room myself.”

“And you won’t walk yourself back.”

“I won’t walk myself back,” Kalila promised. “Now, off you go. Tell your aunt and uncle I say hello.”

“Right, well.” Dameer hesitated. “I should see that you make it inside safely.”

“Dameer!”

“What?”

Kalila grumbled beneath her breath. “If it’ll give you some peace of mind, then—” She walked up to the university, ascended the steps, and waved down at him.

Visibly satisfied, Dameer nodded and made for Willow House. She couldn’t fault him his worry, seeing as how she’d all but disappeared the night before. She needed to be more sensible, she thought.

But it was so easy to get carried away with the freedom of it all.

Making her way into the entrance, Kalila ducked her head and shuffled toward 107. The hallway leading to the room was, blissfully, empty. All she had to do was go to her bench, grab her paper, and then return to the peace of the attic. She walked into the laboratory noiselessly, careful not to leave the door wide open. Her heart dropped when she saw a figure at a far bench blinking at her through a pair of spectacles.

Oliver Booth. In a pair of spectacles.

Part of Kalila was frustrated that she couldn’t even go half a day without running into Oliver in some way, shape, or form. A bigger part of her was abuzz as she drank in the image of him with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, waistcoat pulled tight against his broad chest. Why, with his tousled, sandy hair and spectacles, he looked positively—academic.

But in the most tantalizing of ways.

She took a deep inhale, and the spell was broken. Oliver, as if remembering himself, removed his spectacles and shoved them into his waistcoat pocket, his embarrassment betrayed by the color blooming on his cheeks.

“I—”