Page 45 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

“No.” Kalila grabbed her hat and went to the door. “I need to think.”

Dameer murmured in acceptance and Kalila left, making her way down the stairs and out the front. She had wasted far too much time and had made very little progress. Only big strides would make up for it today. So big, that she’d have to toss out most of the intermediary steps and jump right to the end.

She marched into the university with the intention of making a beeline straight for Comerford’s office. She knew he usually spent the morning before a lecture reviewing papers in his study, and she hoped the early hour would provide them some privacy.

She’d knock, let herself in, sit down before him, and—

“Oh!”

Running into someone wasn’t on her to-do list.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

For the love of all that is good and holy, why does this keep happening to me?!

Oliver Booth’s warm, brown eyes greeted her, her breath coming up short at the sight of him. He had a gentle smile on his face and an almost beseeching air about him. He’d caught her by the shoulders when she’d bumped into him, the pressure of his hands bleeding through the layers of her clothing and singeing her skin.

Wait.

Kalila took a quick step back. In the same moment, Oliver seemed to catch himself and made his own shuffling retreat.

“I have to speak to Comerford,” she said, refusing to let the awkwardness linger in the air. It was her fault for panting up at him like some love-starved fairy-tale princess.

Her fault for feeling like one, too.

Oliver didn’t move. “What for?”

“I just—” Suddenly, desperately, Kalila wanted him on her side. She wanted to know that he wanted to be on her side, even if he couldn’t be. Not really, and not in the way her silly heart was hoping for. “What do you think about letting women into the Society?”

He let out a nervous laugh. “I—what?”

Kalila’s heart dropped. “Women. They should be allowed into the Society.”

“Is that why—I—you—” Oliver stammered. He let out another uneasy laugh and ran a hand through his sandy hair. “I’m sorry, I—”

Kalila wilted. It wasn’t a shocking suggestion. It seemed women were only considered equal to men when it was convenient.

“It’s something for Comerford to consider,” she pressed, wanting him to respond differently. Not wanting to be disappointed. “Women are always kept on the sidelines, don’t you think?”

Just say yes.

“Of course they are,” he said. “But Comerford, he’ll—that is, women are better off starting their own society.”

“Oh?” Kalila said, feeling as though a sliver of ice was slowly sliding down her spine. “With what resources? What equipment?”

“I didn’t—”

“Who will take their findings seriously?” she demanded. “Philosophical Transactions?”

They would always be at the mercy of men. It would take just one act of benevolence to let them in.

When he next spoke, it was to rather pathetically tell her, “You’re very passionate about this.”

Kalila straightened, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I should go before the lecture begins. I will see you in 107, Booth.”

“Oliver,” he corrected.

Kalila ignored him and marched to Comerford’s door, giving it a sharp knock.