Page 13 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

“The lectures!” she gasped, stumbling out of bed. “Today!”

How could she have come so close to forgetting? She, Caroline, Amelia, and a reluctant Dameer had spent the last two days preparing her for the role of a lifetime despite the little hiccup that had come into play with Mr. Booth’s appearance at the townhouse. A neatly pressed, Kalila-sized suit was hung on a hook, and Amelia trailed in with a curly wig in her hands.

“Isn’t this perfect?” She raised the hairpiece up to the sunlight. “The wigmaker got Dameer’s hair just right.”

“My hair isn’t quite so bright,” Dameer muttered, entering the room. “Just to be clear, I am completely against this.”

“We know,” Caroline said, pushing Kalila into a chair. She began to pull her hair into braids. “If all you’re going to do is whine, you’re welcome to leave.”

“I’m not whining,” Dameer snapped, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. His voice softened. “Kal, if you’re caught—”

“I won’t be,” Kalila interrupted. “I promise.”

“You can’t promise such a thing.” Dameer buried his head in his hands in a show of frustration. “Mr. Booth is bound to notice that you’re not the man he met two days ago, but rather the woman.”

Kalila frowned, wondering if Mr. Booth would indeed discern such a thing. After all, they’d stared at one another for an unusual—and embarrassing—amount of time. There was a possibility that he’d meet her today and notice that she stood a full head shorter than the Dameer he’d met. Though she and her cousin both had sharp features, Dameer took after his mother with his round eyes and high forehead. Kalila could mirror his mannerisms to perfection, but some things simply couldn’t be imitated.

Still, what were the chances Mr. Booth remembered exactly what she and Dameer looked like? He had met Dameer for all of fifteen minutes, and her for all of three, before he’d been ushered out of the house. Most people could barely recall a person’s eye color after having known them for weeks, let alone take stock of their height, nose, and eye shape.

“If he says anything on the subject, I will have to skirt around it,” Kalila said finally. “After all, it’s possible for cousins to look very much alike.”

She wasn’t about to give up her chance to mingle with the Society just because Mr. Booth had seen her. It had been unfortunate, but nothing she couldn’t brush under the rug.

Or so she’d told herself repeatedly since they’d removed him from the parlor.

“Besides, he spent most of his time here staring at Amelia,” Caroline said around a mouthful of hairpins.

Kalila saw Dameer bristle in the mirror, and she bit back a smile. As soon as Caroline was finished pinning down the last of Kalila’s hair, Amelia stepped up behind her and attempted to place the wig on her head.

“Oh, no.”

“What’s the matter?” Kalila asked. It looked perfectly fine in the mirror.

“It doesn’t fit over the back of your head,” Dameer said, sounding somewhat triumphant. “You’ve too much hair.”

Kalila reached back and felt her own hair at the nape of her neck. “What can we do?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid,” Caroline said, tapping her finger against her cheek. “It’s too late to find another wig.”

The room fell silent as they registered this new hurdle. If only Mr. Booth hadn’t seen Dameer with his ridiculous, cherubic curls. If only he hadn’t seen either of them. Then she could have—

She broke the grave quiet to say, “Cut it off.”

“Kalila!” Dameer gasped as Caroline sent Amelia to fetch a pair of scissors. “Have you gone mad?”

“Not at all.” Kalila twisted in her chair to look at him. “It’s the only way to make it fit.”

“Or,” Dameer ground out, “you could give up this mission of yours. Isn’t that the more logical course of action?”

Kalila stared at him for a moment, feeling wounded despite herself. Didn’t he realize just how important this was? This was her opportunity to change the direction of her research, for her to finally take all of her passion and mold it into something real. Her cousin gave her a challenging look that soon faltered.

“Dameer—” she started.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out at the same time.

Caroline glanced between them in amusement.

“I-I still think this is a terrible idea,” Dameer said. “But I know how much you care about your work. I shouldn’t have implied—I just don’t want you to get caught, and after Mr. Booth’s visit—”