Page 67 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

“The pleasure is mine,” Kalila said. “But we’ve met before, sir.”

In a clear attempt to feign innocence, he asked, “Have we?”

“We have,” she confirmed flatly.

Hughes cleared his throat. “Of course.” He gestured to the tangled wig she held in her free hand. “Would you like me to take care of that, miss?”

Kalila handed it over. “I’m not sure it can be saved, but you’re welcome to try.”

“We’re off to the laboratory,” Oliver said, sounding unnervingly chipper. “To take care of the fish.”

“Of course.” Hughes moved out of the way. “Do let me know if you need anything.”

Nodding, Oliver led Kalila up the stairs and to their destination. As he rummaged around for tools, Kalila lifted the fish out of the crate and placed it on the bench. The usually well-lit room was painted with the colors of the sunset, and she found herself grateful for the electric bulb that sat nearby. Taking the knife that was offered to her, she took a deep breath and made a sharp, precise cut into the fish.

Only for eggs to spill out.

Kalila gasped in delight, her awkwardness forgotten. “Eggs!”

“Eggs?” Oliver repeated, peering over her shoulder.

“This is perfect.” Kalila bent to examine them. “Comerford will never expect eggs.”

When Oliver did not respond, Kalila looked up to see that he had perched himself on a stool across from her and was staring at her with a lazy sort of smile on his face.

“What?” she demanded.

“You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met, Kalila Darwish,” he said, fondness plain in his voice. “Are you sure you aren’t for me?”

“Don’t tease,” she admonished, glad that the weak light hid her crimson cheeks. “And I am like every woman you have ever met. The only difference is that I was lucky enough to be well-loved, encouraged, and provided for. That alone has brought me here.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Oliver said, eyebrows raised in surprise at her response. “But I do think—”

A loud, terrifying pop interrupted him, sending the both of them flying away from the bench and onto the floor. A beat later, Kalila opened her eyes.

Her heart was still hammering in her chest when she spoke. “What in God’s name was that?”

Oliver clambered to his knees to assess the state of the bench. “The light bulb’s exploded.”

“Oh.” Kalila broke out in nervous laughter. “Thank goodness. It sounded like a gunshot.”

“I suppose we’ll be sticking to gas lamps a while yet,” Oliver remarked, coming to sit by her on the floor. “You didn’t get hit by any glass, did you?”

Kalila shook her head and leaned against the bench, waiting for her pulse to return to normal. “No.”

They drifted into silence, both of them focused on the sunset that was just visible through the window. As Kalila began to wonder why exactly her heart was still beating in an insistent rhythm, Oliver spoke.

“I want to thank you again for finding my microscope,” he said. “Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It wasn’t an accident, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t. You deserved to have it returned to you.”

“And the butterfly?”

“I would have taken it home no matter what. It’s hard for me not to feel sorry for unremarkable things.”