Page 111 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

“You could stay here,” she reminded him. “Caroline clearly doesn’t mind.”

He laughed, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

“I’m not,” she protested, the sound of her voice muffled by his waistcoat. “It’s just that—”

“It’s just that you cannot imagine spending the night without me?”

Kalila untangled herself from his arms. “I’ve changed my mind. You ought to return to Rosewood this very minute.”

Oliver tugged her toward him once more, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “Your denial does not fool me, Miss Darwish.”

She gave him a fond shake of her head. “Good night, Oliver.”

God, she loved him.

“Until tomorrow, my love.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her palm. “Will you be counting down the minutes until we’re reunited?”

“Leave,” she giggled, shoving him out of the room.

Once she had finally managed to be rid of Oliver—after another extended goodbye by the front door—Kalila returned to the parlor. She dropped into a comfortable chair, allowing her gaze to travel around the room. Exhaustion crept over her, and she realized that she hadn’t properly relaxed in days.

I’ll just rest for a spell, she thought, allowing her eyelids to slip shut. Then it’s up to the attic—

“Kalila!”

Kalila’s eyes popped open, her hand flying up to shield herself from the sun.

What in—?

Squinting, she saw that Caroline was standing before her, concern painting her pretty face.

She tut-tutted in disapproval. “Did you spend the night here?”

“By accident,” Kalila assured her. “How is it daytime already?”

“Not only is it daytime,” Caroline said, “but you also have a visitor.”

Kalila frowned. “A visitor?”

“Don’t worry,” Caroline told her, “I’ve put him in Papa’s study.”

“Him?” Kalila repeated. “Who?”

“A Mr. Laurence Comerford.”

“What?” Kalila gasped. She stood, almost knocking Caroline over in the process. “You should have turned him away!”

“He was quite insistent,” Caroline said, giving Kalila a quick once over. “You might consider tidying yourself up, if you’d like to have him wait as punishment for dropping by unannounced.”

Kalila marched upstairs to the attic, her mind unable to figure out what Comerford could possibly have to say to her. He had insulted her in every conceivable way, and he had some nerve to insist upon seeing her. She had a right mind to scold him for it.

After completing her morning rituals, she made her way downstairs, the gears in her mind still whirring. Pushing the door to the study open, she caught sight of Comerford examining Mr. Southcott’s bookshelves with great interest.

“Mr. Comerford,” Kalila said, startling him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Comerford whirled around, and Kalila was struck by the weariness that was etched upon his weathered features. “Miss Darwish. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”

“I did no such thing.” Kalila moved deeper into the room. “It was you who insisted on calling upon me.”