Page 83 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

Grey kept apace, his hands shoved in his pockets. “What do we do now?”

The question startled her because it was hard to know what he was referring to. Was he asking what they were meant to do about Helena? Or was he asking about them?

Farah kept her response light. “Aren’t I usually the one who asks questions to that effect?”

“Yes, but I find myself at your mercy this time,” he replied, a small half-smile gracing his usually stern features.

Farah’s heart fluttered at the words, playful though they were. The palpitations reminded her that she really needed to sort herself out before—before—

For once, she was at a loss as to what her next steps were. For once, she was without a plan.

She shrugged. “We ready our trunks, I suppose.”

He hummed in agreement as they reached Northborough’s front door. He followed her up the stairs, separating from her once they came across his room.

“Farah—” He stopped speaking as soon as he’d started.

“Yes?”

“Nothing. I’ll see you downstairs.”

With a sigh, Farah went to her room to pack a small bag. By the time the others were ready to go, she’d been idling in the main entryway for ten minutes. After a bit of hustle and bustle, she found herself seated across from Kalila in her aunt’s carriage with Grey and Oliver rolling ahead of them in a conveyance of their own.

After a quiet moment, Farah spoke. “I feel terrible.”

Kalila looked up from the notebook she’d been scribbling in, hazel eyes curious. “What about?”

“Helena,” Farah murmured. “I didn’t reach out to her as much as I ought to have.”

“Did she reach out to you?”

Farah shook her head. “Not that I know if. But maybe she felt she couldn’t because I’d been such an awful friend to her.”

“You don’t know that,” Kalila said. “Besides, you can apologize once we find her. You can make amends.”

“Yes, and—” Farah paused, considering. Kalila was the smartest person she knew by far. Perhaps luck had put them in this carriage, where they might speak without being overheard. “Kalila, how do you know when you’re in love?”

At this, Kalila closed her notebook with an audible snap. “Oh, thank God. I thought I’d have to be the one to bring it up.”

Farah swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a reason I asked to travel with you.”

“But—how?”

“You know me,” her cousin said with all the serenity in the world. “I always pay attention.”

“Right.” Farah bunched her hands in her skirts. At Kalila’s silence, she let out a sound of pure exasperation. “Well? Are you going to answer the question?”

“I’ll need more context first,” Kalila, ever analytical, replied. “Why are you asking such a thing?”

Farah bit her lip hard enough to hurt. “Promise me you won’t share this with anyone. Even Oliver.”

Kalila marked her heart with an imaginary cross. “Promise.”

“I think I’m in love,” Farah said, the words foreign and wonderful in her mouth. “And it’s exactly what I dreamed of! Except—except I’m not sure it’s real.”

“Why not?” Kalila tilted her head in curiosity. “Also, just to clarify, we are talking of Mr. Montgomery, correct?”