Page 49 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

“Indeed,” he said, approaching the bench. “But part of my peace offering is this.” He pulled a dust protector off a shining case-mounted microscope, suppressing a grin at the way she immediately lit up.

“A French microscope,” she noted, seeming to forget that she was annoyed with him. “Buron, correct?”

He nodded, watching her fiddle with the draw-tube and pull open the drawer beneath the stage. She was glowing, interest and curiosity coming off her in irresistible waves.

He placed his elbows on the bench and leaned forward. “You were right, you know,” he said as she peered into the eyepiece. “About allowing women into the Society.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to think me against you,” he continued, wishing she’d turn her focus to him. “I don’t—I don’t typically stand against friends. And we are friends, Rafiq.”

“I know,” she repeated, the words softer this time.

“I shouldn’t have said that I am not quite against it,” he said. “Especially given that I am not against it at all. My surprise was foolish. Will you forgive me?”

She remained silent for a moment, hand resting on the microscope as she finally looked his way. She studied him with uncomfortable intensity before saying, “Do you have any interesting slides?”

Relief flooded through him at the response, at her roundabout way of granting her forgiveness. He quickly fetched a box of slides from a nearby drawer, pushing it toward her before resuming his position across from her at the bench.

“It’s hard for me,” he admitted, once she was absorbed by the microscope once more. “With Comerford, I mean. I know that most of his rules are completely made up, and I know he’s wrong, but—”

“He’s your mentor. I understand.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said, shaking his head. “It shouldn’t mean anything. And if you want me to say something to him, I will.”

She offered a small smile. “I appreciate that, but no.”

He knit his brow in confusion. “No?”

“No,” she repeated, switching out the slide for another one. “The lecture series will be over soon. I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

It didn’t seem like her to give up so soon, he thought.

“Of course it’s worth it,” he said. He paused, then went for the lowest hanging fruit. “Maybe we could figure out another angle if you explain to me why you’re so passionate about it.”

“I’m not sure that’s worth explaining, either.”

It was worth another try. “You can trust me, you know.”

Kalila tilted her head at him, the curls of her blond wig shifting with the movement. “Well, I—”

“Are you in there, boy?” a voice interrupted from behind the door. Not a second had passed before Oliver’s father entered, reeking of drink.

God, no, Oliver thought, overcome with embarrassment. Anything but this.

William’s gaze landed on Kalila. “You’ve a guest? That’s a shock.”

Her brilliant eyes darted between Oliver and his father. Clearing her throat, she offered a stiff bow. “Dameer Rafiq, sir. A pleasure.”

William eyed her with suspicion. “Not every day we have a guest at Rosewood.”

Kalila remained silent.

“Rafiq attends lectures with me at the Polytechnic University,” Oliver explained, hoping to bore his father into leaving.

William snorted, unimpressed, before turning to Kalila. “Not sure what the lot of you fuss about, looking at pieces of glass all day.”

“It’s science,” Kalila told him. “And Oliver is quite good at it.”