Page 51 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

Oliver’s head snapped up to see pity etched on her lovely features. “Only when he’s been to the pub.”

“Which is often?” she pressed. He noticed she wasn’t bothering to put her voice on, but was speaking to him as Kalila. The Kalila who had thought to insert herself between them, who had tried to placate his wretched father.

The Kalila who made him feel ready to take a risk, despite the fact that his own father often blamed his horrible marriage on his son. Despite the fact that Oliver could end up just like him.

“Often enough.” Oliver stood, placing the box gingerly on a nearby bench top. “At least he didn’t touch the Buron, hmm?”

“Does he usually do things like this?” Kalila’s voice was still riddled with concern.

“Not always,” Oliver said, feeling as if he were in some bubble far away from the rest of the world. “He usually calls me an idiot and goes on his way.”

“You aren’t.”

“Not smart enough to understand your theories, however,” he said in a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

She frowned.

“I’m only teasing,” he said gently.

Her frown melted away as she placed her hand on the slide box. “I can help you remake your broken slides, if you like.”

He’d told her that he wanted to see her again. Her offer was so sincere, so sweet, that he almost forgot how his father had embarrassed him.

But only almost.

“Let me walk you home.”

She snatched her hand away from the box. “Oh. I can walk myself.”

“Rafiq,” he said, already halfway across the room. “Please.”

Understanding flickered in her eyes and she joined his side in a heartbeat. He led them out of Rosewood and down a dark street toward the townhouse. They walked in silence, Kalila fidgeting with her coat.

“Oliver,” she said, breaking the silence, “I’m sorry.”

“Wasn’t I the one meant to be apologizing today?” he asked with a wry grin. “What are you sorry about?”

“Your father,” she said, blurting the words out in a rush. “I cannot imagine—”

“It’s fine,” he interjected. “And not quite something I’d like to discuss.”

Her mouth snapped shut, and he almost felt guilty for it. She went back to fidgeting with her coat.

“What will you do after the lectures are over?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.

She shrugged. “Return to Painswick, I suppose.”

Right. He’d forgotten all about Painswick.

“Perhaps I’ll come visit,” he suggested, fully expecting her to respond with a creative excuse.

“Perhaps,” she said, surprising him. “It’s rather boring, you know.”

“Boring is good sometimes, no?”

He’d take boring over Rosewood any day.

She chuckled, and he felt the sound snake its way beneath his skin. “I thought you enjoyed a good time, Booth.”