Page 96 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

“I am, in a way.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t think I’ll ever see such freedom again.”

I’ll make sure you do, he thought.

“There’s still time to make this right,” Oliver reminded her. He’d sensed something in her, something that told him she couldn’t possibly be willing to forgo this particular battle. “I’ll try to work it out.”

“Oliver, don’t—”

“I know, I know,” he said, feeling his skin warm. “I’ve disappointed you before with similar promises.”

“It’s not that,” she said, “it’s just that I don’t think there is a way to work it out.”

Oliver gathered her close, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Will you let me try, at least? Consider it an apology for not having done so before.”

Kalila propped her head against his shoulder, growing very still as she fell into deep thought. Finally, she tilted her head back, her face aglow. “All right. Just know that I won’t be upset if you do not succeed.”

He chuckled. “Your confidence in me is nothing short of inspiring.”

“You’ll let me know how it goes, won’t you?”

Perplexed, Oliver regarded her, wondering how it was he knew what she was about to do before she did. A spark flickered in those wide eyes of her, a spark that told him that she’d be unable to sit the seminar out. Hard as she tried to keep it under control, her curiosity would eat away at her. Absolutely nothing would keep her in that townhouse. He was as certain of that as he was of his own feelings for her.

“Of course I will,” he promised.

“Wonderful.” She pushed herself up on her toes to drop a kiss on his jaw. “Although it will be a shame to be the last person to hear of what occurs.”

“Indeed.”

She frowned at him. “You sound unconvinced.”

“Me?” he asked, all innocence. “What could I possibly have to be unconvinced about?”

“I’m not going to that seminar.”

“I know that. Your days as Dameer Rafiq are over. You said so yourself.”

She pressed her lips together before speaking. “Yes, well. Good.”

That he knew she would, in fact, attend went completely and purposefully unsaid.

“Good,” he said, “is right.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next morning, Oliver found himself leaning against the wall outside of Comerford’s office. For the first time, he was at the university before his mentor was.

Ex-mentor? he wondered, suppressing a yawn. A part of him still hoped that Comerford would surprise him—and it wasn’t a small part of him, either.

He finally spotted the older man as he made his way down the hall, his figure large and imposing. He seemed unperturbed to see Oliver, offering him a nod and a grunt of acknowledgment as he made his way into his study, leaving the door open in silent invitation. Taking a deep breath, Oliver entered, sitting on the same rickety chair he’d sat on over two weeks ago.

Comerford settled behind his desk and folded his hands over his stomach. “What brings you here, Booth?”

“It’s about the seminar,” Oliver said, astounded at the steel in his own voice. “Jennings shouldn’t present.”

Comerford appeared unbothered by this, his cool eyes steady and unblinking. “Why not? He did well by building on Rafiq’s work.”

“That’s just it—” Oliver began.

“And I am giving Rafiq his due,” Comerford continued. “So I fail to see the issue here.”