Page 61 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

Though how anyone could readily bare their chest before knowing whether or not a dagger would be plunged into it, he did not know.

To his surprise, it wasn’t the butler who returned to fetch him, but Farah. She was dressed in her costume still, the silk wrinkled, the draping askew. When her eyes met his, color rose up her neck.

He ached with the need to touch her, but he kept his hands in his pockets where they belonged.

When she finally spoke, it was to say, “Did you find my note?”

“I did.”

Granted, it hadn’t been the best way to wake up. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t stirred at her leaving—he’d always slept like the dead—but he had been surprised that she’d left at all. In his slumber-addled mind, he’d been hopeful, been convinced that everything had changed overnight, that all complications had disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Nothing was ever that easy. He was exactly where he’d been five years ago, but this time riddled with emotions that ran so deep they almost brought physical pain along with them.

Farah began to fidget, and Grey noticed that she held a letter in her hands. “Is everything all right?”

She glanced down at the letter, as if seeing it for the first time. “Oh! Yes. Well, maybe. It’s from Kalila.”

“Your cousin who went undercover at some scientific society or another.”

Farah pulled the note to her chest, her eyes round in her face. “You remembered.”

Of course he remembered. How could he forget a single word she’d said?

“It looks like I’m to return to Painswick.”

Grey’s blood turned to ice. “You’re—you’re what? Farah, if this is about last night, we can for—”

“No, no,” she interrupted, waving the letter in the air. “It’s not about last night. My brother managed to break a bone a day into my family’s return from their holiday. That’s all.”

He exhaled. “Oh. I see.”

We can forget it ever happened. Those were the words that had almost tumbled out of his mouth. If Farah implied for even a second that she didn’t want last night to destroy her carefully laid plans, then Grey would have meant them. Not that the memory of her would ever leave him, but—God, he needed to know.

“It’s rather silly, actually,” she said, forcing a smile. “It seems he fell out of a tree while trying to pick an apple.”

“An apple?” Grey echoed. “Why would he go to such lengths for an apple?”

The smile on her face shifted from strained to fond. “A show of love, if I had to hazard a guess.”

A show of love?

“Will your aunt be joining you? Or Mrs. Jennings, perhaps?”

Farah shook her head. “No. I’ll be traveling alone in one of my aunt’s carriages.”

“And how long is the trip to Painswick, exactly?”

“It’s only three days,” she said, all innocence.

“Only three days.”

“Really, Grey, it’s not as if I haven’t made the trip before.”

“Before doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’ve a right mind to accompany you.”

“Accompany me!” Farah laughed. “I do not need accompanying.”

“Yes, you do, and I—”