Page 71 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

“He’s Francis’s cousin,” she burst out.

Dameer and Kalila’s squabbling came to an immediate halt.

“What?” Dameer said with a frown.

Kalila’s response came at the same time. “Well, I certainly couldn’t have guessed that.”

“It’s true,” Farah said. “That’s how I came to know him. Just—just don’t tell anyone. Please.”

Dameer considered this request for a moment before saying, “Why?”

“I don’t want anyone to bombard him with questions about Francis, that’s all.”

“Because he knows something about him that we don’t?”

For a moment, Farah floundered. She should have been more firm, should have told Grey to remain in London. They could have avoided this mess entirely.

Kalila came toward her, resting a gentle hand on Farah’s arm. “Your secrets are just that, Farah—yours. You don’t need to tell us anything.”

“Kalila!” Dameer sputtered.

Ignoring him, Kalila continued with, “Just answer us this—are you safe?”

“Oh, yes,” Farah said, the weight disappearing from her chest.

“Then that’s all that matters.” Kalila returned to sit by Dameer, whose frown had only deepened. “If you’re interested in my opinion at all, I am of the firm belief that everything will happen as it should.”

Farah swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat. “Do you think so?”

“I’m certain of it,” Kalila said. Her next inquiry was directed at Dameer. “Does that calm you down?”

“It does not, thank you very much,” Dameer muttered. “Something strange is going on, and I don’t like it.”

“No, you don’t like knowing what it is,” Kalila corrected. “Now, did Amelia ask after your leg?”

Dameer sighed. “We reminisced about the sprain she’d suffered to her ankle three years ago.”

“Perhaps we should ask our resident love expert on how to proceed,” Kalila said, smiling at Farah.

Farah almost rolled her eyes. Forget love—all she was an expert at was making messes of the worst kind.

“You should do what you think is best,” she advised, lacing her voice with false cheer.

“I think,” Dameer replied, “I should move to America and change my identity to escape embarrassment.”

“Oh, Dameer.” Kalila giggled. “You don’t mean that.”

Farah’s mind drifted as they talked. She, too, would do what she thought was best.

And she’d do it tonight.

Chapter Seventeen

Grey rolled over in his bed with a sigh. He’d been put up in what felt like luxury to him, the room large and beautifully appointed. Given how soft the mattress was beneath him, he should have had no issue drifting off.

But he was having trouble sleeping.

To his surprise, the remainder of the evening had gone well, though he supposed he had Oliver to thank for that. The man had expertly deflected every attempt made to pry into Grey’s business, distracting the room with his good humor and relentless cheer. He seemed an odd match for Kalila but, then, the same could be said about Grey and Farah.