Page 116 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

Kalila slowly lowered her hand. “That must have been difficult.”

“It was,” he agreed. He paused, then asked, “I-I—you don’t think that was cruel, do you?”

She ran her fingers along his jaw with a sad, small smile. “There are some things that cannot be fixed,” she said, voice gentle. “And I trust your judgment.”

Oliver exhaled in relief. “Right.”

“You could never be cruel,” she murmured. “You simply aren’t capable of it.”

“I just—couldn’t have him there,” Oliver said. “Not when I want you there instead.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Me?”

He had told her he loved her, but there was more. So much more. And she had to know.

“Kalila,” he said brokenly, “I have spent my entire life living in fear. It started out with my being afraid of the fights my parents would have. Then it evolved into being scared of my father. Being scared of reaching out to my mother, even. And then it turned into being scared of allowing myself to fall in love and turning into my father.”

Kalila nodded, her expression serious even as she remained silent.

“But I’m done with all of that,” he said. “And I want to tell you with certainty, standing before you, that I could never be afraid of what I feel for you.”

She whispered his name, trailing off as though she couldn’t respond further.

“And you may have been made to feel that you’re too much, but I want you to know that you’re perfect as you are. If anything, I’m the one who isn’t quite up to snuff. But I promise to try to be.”

“But you are enough!” she burst out, almost startling him with the force of her words. “You’re clever and kind and far more sensitive than I could ever hope to be. And you’re so, so brave.”

Oliver’s heart swelled in his chest. How could he have been so averse to this? This feeling, this complete and utter devotion he had for the woman standing before him—it was everything. Gently, Oliver took Kalila in his arms, unable to tear his gaze away from those dazzling, ethereal eyes of hers.

“I will never stifle you, Kalila,” he assured her. “And you’ll never have to choose between the things—and people—you love.”

Her agreement came out on a gentle exhale. “You’ll never stifle me.”

Oliver cupped her face in her hands, pressing his forehead against hers, aware of every breath that passed through her body. “Please, Kalila. Marry me. I cannot bear another moment without you.”

“I will.” She pushed herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Of course I will.”

He pulled her against him, very much the way he had the day they’d danced at Willow House. She kissed him wholeheartedly, looping her arms around his neck and dragging him closer to her. He picked her up, pressing their bodies together, kissing her until he was sure she understood how fully she possessed him.

Finally, as he lowered her to the ground, he said, “Now, about that Society of yours—”

“We’ll use Rosewood, of course,” she said, hands still gripping his shoulders.

“Naturally. And I assume that, as sole investor, I’ll have full control over the accompanying journal?”

Kalila raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you getting at?”

“It’s just that there’s a certain paper by one Miss K.D. that I have some—thoughts about. Do you think she’d be willing to discuss them with me?”

Kalila prickled, as he expected she would. “Discuss? If you think you’re going to be allowed to leave even one comment—”

“Ah, it seems I’ve touched a nerve,” he said. “Perhaps this debate is one that would be better held in private.”

“In private? How much more private could we—” Understanding dawned over her features, followed by a dusting of rosy pink across her cheeks and nose. “Oh.”

“Oh is right,” he said with a grin. “What do you say?”

“I say Miss K.D. would be happy to discuss in private,” she responded, breath hitching in her throat. “But only if you’re prepared for a spirited debate.”