Kit held onto his temper. “Margo, you can’t fake languages.
”No … but I can fake being a deaf mute, which is just as good! I’ve worked so hard, dammit! I deserve a chance to prove myself.”
Kit didn’t know whether to be angry or scared out of his mind. “You’ll get that chance. When I think you’re ready.”
For a moment she just sat there, breathing hard. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. Then, in a low, hurt voice, she said, “I’m not hungry any more. I’ll think I’ll go study!”
She fled past a whole line of waiting tourists who gaped after her. Kit cursed under his breath and shoved back his chair. Arley met him halfway to the door.
”Trouble?”
Kit nodded tightly. “Cancel our orders, would you? Put it on my bill.”
”She’s young, Kit.”
”That’s no excuse. The universe doesn’t give a damn when it squashes you.”
Arley let him go without further attempts at sympathy. Kit headed for the library. He had to make her understand. After London-and St. Giles-he’d hoped… But all she saw was the need to study fighting techniques, not the history and languages to help avoid the fight in the first place. She clearly understood the tactical advantage of invisibility but wasn’t thinking of knowledge as one way to achieve it.
Scouting was a career men spent years–sometimes decades — preparing for, only to run into trouble anyway because they slipped up on some tiny, seemingly insignificant detail. He had to make her understand that, make her understand she simply must take the necessary time to prepare for it.