Page 12 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

“I don’t think I can do much more than refuse her again.”

“And you’ll talk her out of marrying Francis.”

“And I’ll—why in the hell would I do that? Who she marries is none of my bloody business.”

Leila raised a pointed eyebrow at him. “Temper, Peregrine.”

Twice now, fury had threatened to overtake him at the thought of Miss Rafiq marrying Francis. It was less about the woman in question, and more about the principle of the situation. He was certain of it.

“It’s none of my business,” Grey repeated, forcing evenness into his voice. “She can do what she wants.”

“She must be a vision.”

Grey frowned. “I never said anything about—”

“It would do you well to remember how difficult I am to fool, Peregrine,” his grandmother said, pushing herself off the bench. “Now, do you need me to come to Fleet Street with you?”

Grey followed suit. “Whatever for?”

“Who else is going to convince this girl to see what’s right in front of her?”

“Oh, she saw what was right in front of her,” Grey muttered as his grandmother led him toward the house. “Scar and all.”

Leila dropped his arm in surprise. “Peregrine! You might consider saving such displays for your wedding night.”

“I was stretching! I was stretching, and I thought I’d check for improvements in the mir—never mind.”

She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And are there any improvements?”

“No,” he said flatly. “It’s as hideous and uncomfortable as always.”

“We’ll find someone else to look at you,” Leila promised. “Dr. Ayad owes me a favor, anyway. Repayment for saving his mother’s life.”

“When did you save his mother’s life?”

“Back in Baghdad, a snake found its way into his family’s house. I grabbed it by the head and threw it out the door before it could sink its fangs into the poor woman. He is still in my debt all these years later.”

“Of course he is,” Grey said, distracted. He was used to his grandmother’s outlandish—and, frankly, unbelievable—tales.

In less than an hour, he would see Miss Rafiq again. How many buttons would she have trailing down her bodice today?

“Did she run screaming from you?”

Grey returned his attention to his grandmother. “Who?”

“Miss Rafiq. You said she saw your scar.”

“Oh. No. She seemed rather curious about it, actually.”

“Very interesting. Invite her over for tea, would you?”

“Absolutely not.”

Leila shook her head as they stepped into the house. “I see you insist on dragging this out.”

“I’m doing no such thing,” Grey said. “It’ll take me all of five minutes to send her on her way.”

“Until she returns to marry Francis. Then you and I will be forced to attend his wedding and listen to him simper on about—”