Page 64 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

“Why you would play along, for one,” she said, voice still wobbly with emotion. “And why you’d want to see me, for another.”

“I-I thought it would be fun at first,” Oliver admitted, hoping she’d forgive his childishness. “To play along, I mean. After a while, I wondered if you might trust me enough to—to let me in on the secret.” He paused. “How could you ask me why I’d want to see you?”

“Is that so wrong?”

“Kalila,” he said patiently, still leaning before her as if praying at an altar, “I think you know that there’s something here.”

“Here?”

“Between us,” he explained. He needed to say it, needed to have it out in the open so that she might do what she pleased with it. It was as much a relief as it was terrifying.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she swiped at them in annoyance. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to stop crying, and—and I haven’t been this angry in so long. I shouldn’t have—”

“Why are you crying?”

“I’ve mucked it all up,” she whispered. “All of it. And I can’t even deny the something you’re talking about, but I’m so tired, and I’ve sworn off any and all connections to men, or at least I promised myself I would, and—”

“Because of the man you thought you were in love with?” he asked, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

“Yes,” she said, clearly unwilling to offer up more information.

Oliver sighed, the spell they’d been under broken. Then, realizing she had started to shiver, he said, “You need to take your clothes off.”

Indignation came over her. “Excuse me?”

“You’re freezing.”

“So are you,” she said.

“Then I suppose I should take my own advice as well.”

She lifted her chin. “Fine. Turn around.”

“I should ask the same of you.”

Scoffing, Kalila turned her back to him. He mirrored her and began to work on the buttons of his waistcoat. He could hear the tiny movements coming from behind him even over the roar of the storm. He began to fumble with his buttons, unable to get a proper grip on them. His mind had decided to abandon fine motor function in favor of picturing Kalila peeling wet clothes off her body, and—

“Are you done?” she asked, voice stronger now.

The question jolted him into action, and he quickly discarded everything but his trousers before he responded with a rough, “Yes.”

They turned around simultaneously, and he was greeted with the sight of her engulfed in the dusty blanket. He was struck for the first time by the fact that she was a small, scrappy thing when all of the finery was put aside. She seemed that much more vulnerable, and he found himself firmly reminded of the woman who had been hidden beneath the wig and suit.

Her eyes, meanwhile, slid from his face and down his bare torso. Without warning, she broke out into a short chuckle.

“That’s rather mean of you,” he said. He was no prize fighter but was fit enough that the muscles of his stomach could be made out if one cared to do so. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said, waving from beneath the blanket. “Of course you’d look like that.”

“Like what?”

“Never mind.”

He gave her a wicked grin. “Of course I’d look so delicious, is that it?”

“Please,” she spluttered, though he noted that she didn’t exactly deny it. “Put a blanket over your shoulders.”

He shook another blanket out. “Are you worried that I’ll catch cold?”