Chapter Four #2
A tense silence fell before Dameer gave her an uncertain smile. “You’re teasing.”
“Do I look like I’m teasing?” Kalila demanded.
The smile vanished from his face.
Caroline straightened in her chair. “Can someone enlighten the rest of us as to who this Mr. Booth is?”
“He’s a member of the Society,” Kalila explained, still frozen in place as her heart continued to jump in a staccato beat. “He leaves ridiculous comments on my pap—oh, God, I slammed the door in his face.”
“What else were you to do?” Dameer asked, panic evident in his voice. “Introduce him to the whole lot of us?”
“We need to let him in,” Kalila said, strength coming back to her. “Dameer. You have to let him in. We’re to work together, and I have to have all of them on my side when I make my case to Comerford. There will be strength in numbers.”
Dameer stood. “What case?”
“That’s it.” Caroline grabbed Amelia by the sleeve and gestured at Kalila to follow. “Let the man back in, Dameer.”
Dameer made to leave the room. “And then what?”
“Get rid of him,” Caroline instructed, ushering Kalila and Amelia into the hallway.
“An easy task, I’m sure,” he grumbled.
“Oh, you can do it, Dameer,” Amelia cooed. “I believe in you.”
Dameer, naturally, turned pink at her words. Kalila found herself huddled with Caroline and Amelia in the darkened hallway, barely able to breathe. She heard the sound of footsteps as the men entered the parlor.
“My apologies,” Dameer was saying. Kalila strained to see him, pressing herself against the wall for a better view. “My elderly grandmother is visiting, you see, and my cousin thought she heard her call.”
“It’s quite all right,” came the response. Kalila’s breath caught in her throat for the second time that day as Mr. Booth came into her line of sight. Her initial assessment hadn’t been wrong—he looked just as dazzling inside of the parlor as he had outside on the steps.
“Good Lord,” Caroline whispered. “That is your Mr. Booth?”
“He isn’t my Mr. Booth,” Kalila whispered back.
“He ought to be,” Amelia chimed in. “Look at him!”
“I thought I might come by to introduce myself,” Mr. Booth was saying.
He ran a hand through his hair, and Kalila could almost feel Caroline and Amelia suppress dreamy sighs.
She, meanwhile, reminded herself that Mr. Booth had done nothing to help her along on her scientific journey.
In fact, he very often presented himself as an annoying bump in the road.
A devastatingly handsome bump with an unbearably rakish smile, but a bump nonetheless.
“Surely this could have waited,” Dameer said.
“I’m afraid not,” Mr. Booth responded. “Your papers never cease to astonish us, Mr.—ah, my apologies. I only know you by your initials.”
“Rafiq,” Dameer said automatically. “Dameer Rafiq.”
Another knee-weakening smile. “Rafiq. Well, Rafiq, you’re certainly persistent.”
He pronounced Dameer’s surname in the light way English folk tended to do, the q at the end transformed into a k no matter how hard they tried.
“Indeed,” Dameer mumbled. Kalila noticed he hadn’t offered Mr. Booth a seat and hoped it was part of a plan to be rid of him.
Mr. Booth bounced on his heels and Kalila furrowed her brow. Was he—excited? About Dameer’s—her—work? That couldn’t be true. Ridiculous comments such as his indicated that he found her work pointless. Or boring. Anything but exciting.
“I’m curious to know what your responses to Comerford’s recent comments are,” Mr. Booth said, his brown eyes twinkling in interest.
Dameer’s incredulity was plain. “You aren’t curious to know what my responses to your comments are?”
Caroline placed her hand against her forehead and let out a soft exhale. “What part of get rid of him did your cousin not understand?”
Mr. Booth grinned. “Naturally. But I’d much rather get into the science first.” He scanned the room, having clearly decided to make himself more comfortable. Gesturing to an armchair, he said, “Shall we?”
Dameer let out an abrupt, “No!”
“No? Am I interrupting something?”
“Yes?” Dameer said, sounding unsure as Kalila prayed for the ground to swallow her whole.
“My apologies.” Mr. Booth raised an unconvinced eyebrow. “I can return at a later time.”
“N-no,” Dameer stammered, almost turning his head toward the door that led to the hallway.
“We should do something,” Caroline murmured. “He’s at death’s door out there.”
“We can’t,” Kalila replied. “Well, I can’t. Mr. Booth has already seen far, far too much of me.”
“I’ll help him,” Amelia offered, straightening her skirts and hobbling into the parlor before either Kalila or Caroline could stop her.
Both men turned to look at her as she gave an awkward little dip.
“Apologies for interrupting, but I forgot my—” She paused for a moment, tapping a finger against her crutch in thought. “My book.”
“Of course,” Mr. Booth said, having the nerve to sound pleased at the sight of her. He gave her a short bow. “Oliver Booth. A pleasure.”
A tingle shot up Kalila’s spine. What was wrong with her?
“Miss Amelia Southcott,” Dameer mumbled. “A friend of the family.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Booth,” Amelia said in that detached way of hers. She walked over to a book that had been left on the table and tucked it under her free arm. “How do you know Dameer?”
“I’m a member of the Society of Microscopic Biology,” Mr. Booth explained. “I’m sure Mr. Rafiq has told you about the lectures that begin next week.”
Amelia smiled. “Of course.”
“I came to make Mr. Rafiq’s acquaintance,” Mr. Booth continued, the very picture of civility. “He’s quite famous around these parts, Miss Southcott. He keeps the Society rather occupied with his theories.”
“How lucky that he chooses to send them your way,” Amelia said, her tone featherlight.
Mr. Booth chuckled, the sound sincere and uninhibited. “Lucky is certainly the word I’d use, yes. He’s built quite the rapport with us.”
“Indeed,” Dameer said. “Tell me, Mr. Booth, are you visiting all the participating scientists?”
“Not at all,” Mr. Booth replied, speaking in a way that suggested a complete and utter lack of shame.
“Only yourself. I was most interested to meet the man responsible for all the theories that come to our door, fantastical though they are.” Then—and Kalila could barely believe this—he winked at Amelia.
Wonderful. Her archnemesis was a rogue with a heart-wrenching, lopsided smile.
Also—fantastical?! The nerve of him. He wasn’t even capable of proper critique and was therefore the last person who could—
“And now that you’ve met,” Amelia said, “what do you make of him?”
Behind Kalila, Caroline bit back a groan.
Mr. Booth eyed Dameer with a curious air. “He’s spirited—and rightfully unsure of me.”
“Rightfully?” Amelia echoed.
Mr. Booth nodded. “I’m afraid I haven’t made a very good impression with my comments on your work, Rafiq.”
“One could say that, yes,” Dameer said, bringing forth a surge of affection in Kalila. Of course he’d prickle on her behalf.
“Ah, well.” Mr. Booth ran a hand through his tousled hair and gave an embarrassed smile. “You’ll soon find out that it’s all in good fun. We’ll be far better than acquaintances by the end of all this.”
“How lovely,” Amelia crooned. Caroline let out a purposefully loud cough, which made Amelia stand to attention.
“Well! I’m afraid you must excuse us, Mr. Booth.
We’ve ever so much to do, what with Dameer’s grandmother visiting and all.
I don’t know if he’s told you, but she’d quite old and in need of our help. ”
“Of course.” Mr. Booth allowed himself to be shepherded from the room and Kalila almost collapsed with relief. “I’ll see you in two days, Rafiq. Bright and early, hmm?”
“Bright and early,” Kalila heard Dameer grumble.
When the door finally shut, Kalila and Caroline burst into the parlor.
Amelia fell onto the chaise with a sigh. “He is even more beautiful up close.”
“He’s all right,” Dameer muttered.
“You did a wonderful job, Dameer,” Caroline said. “And you,” she said to Kalila, “are about to have the most interesting summer.”
Please, Kalila thought, stomach squeezing at the thought of Mr. Booth’s lazy smile. Tell me something I don’t know.