Page 84 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

Farah’s cheeks burned scarlet. “Yes.”

“Wonders will truly never cease,” Kalila said, an odd, cryptic smile on her face. “But why are you so uncertain?”

Farah began to pick at the embroidery on her dress. “How can I tell the difference between reality and my own girlish fantasies?”

“Is this because of Mr. Beaumont?”

“It’s because of everything,” Farah admitted. “Everything. The person I am, how determined I was to squeeze love from anybody who would have me. How can I be sure I haven’t simply replaced Francis with Gr—Mr. Montgomery?”

Kalila shifted from her bench to sit beside her cousin, her hand patting Farah’s shoulder in a soothing gesture. “I’ll admit that the timing isn’t quite ideal. But don’t you think your uncertainty suggests a little growth on your part?”

Farah frowned. “How do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t have questioned this for a second a few months ago,” Kalila explained, voice steady and kind. “In fact, I rather think you’d have run to the hills with it, wedding gown in hand.”

“That’s true,” Farah said with a giggle. “I wouldn’t have wasted a single second for fear of losing it.”

Kalila nodded. “Exactly. And while I understand your anxiety, all you really need to do is what you think is best. Trust your heart, as they say.”

“I’m trying to,” Farah whispered. “But I want to be sure, because if I’m not, and I tell him all the same—he deserves certainty. He deserves someone who knows, with every fiber of their being, that they love him.”

“You are in love.” Kalila appeared awe-struck before she blinked herself back to reality. “I knew, of course. I noticed the minute you arrived.”

“How? I didn’t admit it to myself until this morning.”

Kalila shrugged. “Like I said, I’m always paying attention.”

“It doesn’t feel real,” Farah said with a sigh. “The emotion, I mean.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Kalila agreed, grinning. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I want to tell him, of course.” The admission sent a thrill through Farah’s body. “But it has to be saved for the perfect moment.”

“And how will you identify this so-called perfect moment?”

“I’ll know,” Farah said. “As soon as I sense a tiny bit of magic in the air, I’ll know. Which only leaves one thing to worry about.”

Kalila returned to the seat across from Farah’s. “And what’s that?”

“Whether or not he returns the sentiment.”

Instead of weighing the gravity of Farah’s statement, Kalila snorted. “Right. Well, do report back. I’ll be most interested in hearing the results.”

“It’s not an experiment, Kalila!” Farah admonished. “We’re talking about two people somehow choosing to love each other by chance. That’s magic, not science.”

Kalila blew a stray curl out of her face, unperturbed. “They’re one and the same to me, Farah. They always have been.”

Chapter Twenty

“I punched Jennings in the nose for that,” Oliver said cheerfully. “And not a day later—not a single day later!—Comerford was trying to get Kalila to—oh.”

“To what?” Grey pressed. For three days, Oliver had regaled him with the story of his time as a member of the Society of Microscopic Biology, fleshing out what little Grey had been told of Kalila’s bid to infiltrate it by abandoning her skirts for a pair of trousers. At first, Grey had listened because Oliver’s endless chatter served to distract him from his thoughts. The story, however, had turned out rather interesting. Despite himself, he was curious to know what happened next and was slightly irritated that Oliver had decided to trail off at such a crucial moment.

“We’re in London,” Oliver observed. “Sans Mrs. Jennings.”

Grey looked out of the window. “Damn.”

They had stopped at so many inns, Grey had lost count. At each one, Farah had asked after Helena with barely concealed worry, every shake of the head in response to her inquiries bringing her closer to tears. With nowhere left to go, they’d naturally ended up in town. Nighttime had fallen an hour or two ago, which only served to make the situation seem that much more hopeless.