Page 93 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

It was easier to avoid all of this. When they’d been caught in the rain, he’d mentioned something existing between them. Her heart knew what he’d been referring to, even as she’d denied the nature of it when he’d tried to probe deeper. When he told her he liked her, a part of her had warned her that this was as far as she dare go.

Naturally, she’d ignored that part. Now she was paying the price of her—frankly annoying—insistence on bouncing between being on the very edge of falling in love and locking herself up in an ivory tower filled with microscopes.

She was a sensible woman, though. She knew this couldn’t last—that she’d have to make a decision soon and stick to it. She could either choose love, or she could choose the safety of solitude.

One would think the decision easily made.

“Here we are,” Oliver said, pulling her out of her reverie.

Kalila came to a stop, the skirts of the jade-colored dress she had changed into fluttering about her ankles. She surveyed the building before them.

“I’ve been to the university before, Oliver,” she said dryly.

“I know that,” he said, grinning. “I want to show you something.”

“It’ll be locked,” she reminded him as they went up the steps to the main entrance.

“Never fear,” he said. He reached into his waistcoat pocket, scowling as he pulled out his spectacles. “Not what I meant to retrieve.”

“I think you should wear them more often,” she told him, thinking back to the day she’d stumbled upon him in 107 with his sleeves rolled up and his spectacles balancing on his nose.

He smirked. “While I am most interested in your fascination with my spectacles, what I really meant to retrieve was this.”

A key.

Kalila’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why do you have a key to the university?”

“You’re better off asking the guard why he so carelessly dropped it,” Oliver said, unlocking the door and ushering her in. The door shut behind them, enveloping them in the calm, still silence of the foyer. “Follow me.”

Kalila obeyed, walking beside him as he led them deeper into the building than she had ever been before. Past the door to the gardens, past 107, past Comerford’s office. Finally, Oliver stopped at a door that nobody had even bothered to close, let alone lock.

“What is this?” she whispered.

“You’ll see,” he said, unable to conceal the excitement in his voice. He pushed the door open, revealing a long hallway poorly lit by the moonlight that shone through a row of windows. Leaving her at the entrance, he disappeared into the gloom, the sounds of rummaging betraying his location. Kalila squinted in an effort to see where he’d brought her. Without warning, light from a gas lamp illuminated the room, and she saw that the hallway was, other than being dusty, lined with tables and hung with pictures.

“I still don’t know what this is,” she said, making her way toward him. She’d only taken a few steps before she found herself rooted to the floor, her interest captured by a strange creature that sat preserved in a jar. She bent and stared through the glass, fascinated.

Oliver’s voice came from behind her. “Comerford has been putting together this museum for an age.”

Now that he’d mentioned it, Kalila could see that it was in fact a museum, if one could call a narrow hallway such. She caught sight of an array of microscopes, a collection of plants, and a smattering of large specimens suspended in spirits. A smile came over her as she turned to Oliver who, of course, smiled at her in return.

“It’s wonderful,” she said, stepping over to the microscope closest to her. A small rack of slides sat next to it, and a diagram had been framed and hung on the wall above. Kalila pulled out a slide at random and gestured for Oliver to provide her with a little light. She gasped as she looked into the eyepiece, a gleeful giggle escaping her. “Marine specimens! Oliver, this is—”

She was cut short by the sound of footsteps and, before she could utter another word, Kalila was pulled into a small alcove that had been hidden behind a woven tapestry of one of the many, many male scientists beloved by her peers. The gas lamp now extinguished, Oliver held his finger up to his lips, eyes twinkling in amusement as she tried to bite back a laugh of her own.

The loud stomping of boots echoed, followed by a grumbled, “Thought I heard something here.”

Silence fell shortly after, though it did nothing to dampen the adrenaline running through Kalila’s veins.

“Who was that?” she murmured.

“A guard, most likely.”

She paused, considering. “Do you think we can return to the hallway?”

He nodded, though neither of them moved. Kalila found herself transfixed by the sight of Oliver bathed in the weak moonlight that filtered through the threadbare tapestry. His face was a work of art in and of itself, all sharp angles and crooked grins.

The very smile she’d been thinking of tugged at his lips. “What are you thinking?”