Page 89 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

“Yes?”

“Will you teach me?”

Chapter Twenty-One

If there was one thing Kalila was aware of, it was the amount of pride a scientist had to swallow before admitting they needed something explained to them. Although she’d offered to guide Oliver through her theories before, he’d never taken her up on it.

Until now.

Now, he stood before her with a hopeful look on his handsome, perfect face, awaiting her response.

“Yes,” she breathed. She felt a smile take hold, wide and uncontrolled. “Yes, of course I will.”

Oliver returned her grin with a charming, crooked one of his own. “Are you quite sure? You’ll have to hold my hand through every single one of your theories.”

“I don’t mind.” Folding her arms across her chest, she assessed him with an analytical air. “You won’t argue against them, will you?”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” he responded, his grin widening. “But I do promise to be a good pupil.”

Kalila made her way to her desk to retrieve a sheaf of clean paper. “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

“Why, Kalila, it’s almost like you don’t trust me,” he said in mock offense, joining her as she sat on the floor and spread the papers between them.

“It’s almost like I know you,” she said, trying and failing to mask her delight at having been asked to teach. Picking up a pencil, she drew an arbitrary shape. “This is a cell.”

“I know what cells are,” Oliver said, this time sounding like he was actually a little bit offended.

“I know,” Kalila said. “Focus.” She drew two more shapes underneath the original one. “These are daughter cells. My interest,” she said, tapping her pencil to the mother cell, “has to do with the properties of the parent.”

Oliver was absorbed in an instant, the perfect picture of serious concentration. Encouraged, Kalila continued to draw, explaining the intricacies of each one of her theories. Pleasure spiked through her at Oliver’s every nod and murmur of agreement, and she realized that this was the first time she’d had a rapt audience.

It was wonderful.

Hours slipped by without notice, and Kalila was pleased that her lecture was going by without incident. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, she stood and stretched with the intention of lighting a few candles. While illuminating the room, she heard the distinct sound of papers shuffled behind her.

“There’s something missing,” Oliver said, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

Kalila turned, eyes narrowing. “Missing?”

“Not missing, I suppose.” His tousled golden hair glinted in the candlelight, almost distracting her from the oncoming critique. “It’s just that this can’t apply to every organ.”

“I didn’t say it does,” Kalila said, returning to her spot on the floor. “I said it likely occurs in the majority of organs.”

“But which ones?”

How would I know?

“I don’t think it matters in the context of my work,” she said instead, folding her arms across her chest.

“Perhaps not.” He let the sheet he’d been holding float to the floor. “But it is something you should consider.”

“Consider?” she echoed. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been asked to consider no less than two hundred different questions in the years it’s taken me to craft these theories. I’m quite at my limit.”

“What’s one more?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

She spluttered. “One more? Why don’t you tell me which organs these theories apply to, Oliver? In the spirit of collaboration, that is.”

He laughed, the sound rich and almost musical.