Chapter 4
L ark could hardly breathe, her head spinning.
“Finally,” Mr. Chumley said, his voice distant in her embarrassed haze, “a man who needs no introduction, our wonderful guest of honor, Mr. Henry Branok.”
The group clapped, but Lark was so stunned, she could not move. The gentleman—the real Henry Branok—grinned as he bowed in response, his eyes sparkling with delight.
“Come, join me at the front of the room, sir,” Mr. Chumley invited.
Mr. Branok nodded, moving a step forward before seeming to think better of it and glancing back down at Lark. He took a subtle step toward her, clearly ignoring all propriety and caring not an ounce of what others might say as he shifted closer.
With barely moving lips, he whispered, “I did try to tell you who I was. But you were right about one thing…I certainly do not take bird observing very seriously.”
With a twinkle in his eye, he moved to the front of the still-applauding group, running a hand through his thick, dark blond strands.
Lark was left behind to suffer with burning cheeks and limping pride as she contemplated how she would ever be able to show her face around Mr. Branok again.
What a nightmare.
Aunt Harriet gently tapped against Lark’s arm, and Lark bent down to level her ear with her seated aunt.
“ He is Mr. Branok?” Aunt whispered, her dark eyes focused on him as he reached Mr. Chumley.
The gentlemen clasped hands with friendly smiles.
“Apparently,” Lark responded.
“But he is so very young to have accomplished so much, is he not?”
“He is,” Lark said.
Which was precisely why she had guessed Mr. Dunn to be Mr. Branok instead. Writing novels, receiving awards, exploring the world—achieving so much at what could only be eight and twenty? He was so very capable.
And Lark had shushed him like a schoolboy. She had accused him of not being serious in his bird observations .
An ache in her brow pulsed.
“What did he say to you before he left just now?” Aunt asked next.
Lark hesitated, swallowing hard. “Oh…He simply apologized for the disruption his late arrival caused.”
Aunt nodded, leaning back as she seemed to accept Lark’s falsehood.
Lark straightened, guilt poking at her conscience.
She wanted to tell the truth, but she would not reveal a word about what she’d said to him.
She was far too humiliated to admit her actions aloud.
Especially when she’d so wrongfully assumed that he’d been seeking her marital status due to being interested in her fortune.
He was obviously simply curious that she was a single female on an excursion, that was all.
She gritted her teeth. This was all Mr. Drake’s doing. Lark had been on edge ever since his swift and loveless proposal. Had it not been for Mr. Drake dredging up her past—reminding her of the last time she’d been proposed to—she never would have assumed something so unjust of Mr. Branok.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Chumley said, motioning to Mr. Branok, “I must share with you how often I have attempted to coerce Mr. Branok to join me on an expedition around England. He leaves our fair country so often, it has taken me years to find a time for him to finally be here. Is it not wonderful to have him join us? We shall surely be educationally fed by him over the next two months.”
The group clapped, and Lark did her best to join in, though her limbs had grown weak due to the distinct depletion of energy she was still overcoming from her mistake.
Mr. Branok—the real Mr. Branok—clasped his hands behind his back and smiled around the room.
“Thank you all so much for your warm welcome,” he said, his voice deep and rich as opposed to when he’d whispered.
“While I cannot claim to be a master in the art of observation, I have experienced a great deal over the years in relation to viewing birds that I will be happy to share with you. I do hope, however, that we may learn from one another as we delight in observing God’s beautiful creatures together. ”
The group clapped again, and this time, his eyes landed on Lark’s. She could have sworn she’d seen them sparkling once more, but she looked away, unwilling to acknowledge the interaction that had already taken place between them.
How was she to behave around him? If he was old and married like Mr. Dunn, she could have easily told him how she admired his writing and wished for his signature to be on each of his volumes of work she’d brought with her.
But now that she was so painfully aware of how he was young and handsome—and single?
He had not brought a wife with him. Either way, saying such things would hardly be proper.
Suppose he thought her too forward? That she was attempting to express a certain fondness for him?
Although, she had no notion how he could think such things, especially after she’d explained her desire to remain unmarried.
She chewed on her lower lip, the pinching above her brow growing steadily stronger.
“We certainly cannot wait to learn from you, sir,” Mr. Chumley said, clasping Mr. Branok’s shoulder and delivering a firm nod of his head, then he faced the others.
“So let us begin this journey, shall we? Three carriages await our departure just outside. We thought it best to assign individuals to specific carriages for the duration of our journey to avoid any confusion and prevent anyone from being left behind. So, the first carriage shall house me and my wife and the Shepherds. The second carriage shall hold the Kay Brothers, Mr. Dunn, and Mr. Gibbon. And the third will be for Mr. and Mrs. Haskett, their niece, and Mr. Branok himself.”
Lark blanched. They would be riding in the same carriage? That would be days of travel to reach Yorkshire alone, not to mention the next two months they would be stationed together.
Well, if she hadn’t been worried enough about the coming interactions with the gentleman, she certainly was now.
Would he tell Aunt and Uncle about her shushing him?
Would her aunt and uncle blather to Mr. Branok about how greatly she’d long admired his work?
That would be one surefire way to seal the fate of her never speaking with him again.
Mr. Chumley finished, then led the way forward, his wife on his arm and Mr. Branok close behind. The group swiftly followed, clearly anxious to seize their chance to speak with Mr. Branok before the long journey ahead.
Lark would have done the same. But now…
Aunt stood from her seat, and the three of them brought up the rear.
“This is a most happy circumstance, is it not?” Aunt whispered, her eyes shining as she looked at Lark. “Sharing a carriage with Mr. Branok? How fortunate!”
Aunt Harriet did not know Mr. Branok from Adam, but her excitement was for Lark more than anything. And yet, Lark could not even manage a smile.
“Are you not pleased with him riding with us?” Uncle asked, his brow furrowed as he must have noticed Lark’s lack of enthusiasm.
“Oh, I am quite pleased,” Lark said, looking at the group ahead to ensure they would not overhear her. “Merely nervous, that is all.”
Aunt smiled at her with understanding. “Your uncle and I will help with your nerves, my dear. Worry not.”
But that was precisely why Lark was nervous. “Perhaps…” she began, “perhaps we ought not share just how often I have read his books.”
Aunt paused. “Whyever not?”
“It is only that,” Lark continued, still ensuring no one was near enough to overhear, “I should hate to draw too much attention to myself and cause him discomfort.” Or rather, cause herself discomfort.
“After all, I did promise to remain inconspicuous on the trip. I simply would not wish for him to think that I am anything but an admirer of his works—and his works alone .”
She emphasized the last word, giving them both a telling look.
Aunt and Uncle exchanged a look of their own, then nodded in unison.
“Of course,” Aunt Harriet said, “we understand perfectly, my dear. We shall ensure platonic friendship at all times.”
Lark knew a small degree of relief, and she nodded her gratitude as they left the parlor with the others.
She was comforted to know she could rely on her aunt and uncle, just like always. She cringed to consider what might have occurred had Mother joined her on the expedition instead.
“He is single, handsome, has a fortune, is your favorite writer, and loves birds as you do?” she would say. “What in the world are you waiting for, my darling Lark?”
The truth of the matter was, Lark was waiting for freedom. The freedom to explore the world and observe birds at her own bidding. The freedom to leave her home without a chaperone. The freedom to simply do as she pleased.
Having a husband would not provide her with any of that, aside from allowing herself to leave her home without a chaperone. But even that was not guaranteed, depending on the husband one possessed.
She’d learned after her experience as an impressionable eighteen-year-old, that in order to be happy, she would have to extricate herself from nearly all social gatherings.
So, that was precisely what she did, remaining with Aunt and Uncle in Suffolk while making it clear that she would stay indelibly unmarried.
For the last six years, however, Mother had not once stopped attempting to pull Lark to London—and toward every available gentleman in remotely good standing in Society. Lark, however, had stood her ground…until this year.
“If you wish to have my blessing for you to attend this excursion,” Mother had said, “I would ask that you first agree to attempt to find a spouse for one final Season.”
Reluctantly, Lark had agreed. She loved and respected Mother, despite the two of them having less in common than a siskin and a smew.
Where Lark loved peace and quiet in nature, Mother loved the hustle and bustle of the city.
And where Lark loved being seen for who she was inside, Mother loved the attention she received from her wealth and status.
Their relationship had always been strengthened rather than hindered after time apart, so Lark had done her best to please her mother, consenting to attend all the balls and parties Mother pressed her to, before, during, and after the excursion.
Lark had already fulfilled a fraction of the bargain, attending a number of social outings before today, but after Mr. Drake’s treatment of her—which Aunt and Uncle knew of, but Mother did not—Lark had changed the agreement on her end.
She would still do as Mother begged, but Lark would no longer attempt to catch a husband by playing the ever-demure, ever-unopinionated, ever-the-non-bird-loving individual she was forced to be in Society to be accepted.
Instead, she would be unabashedly herself.
Except while on this tour…all thanks to Mr. Chumley.
She puffed out a breath of air as they moved through his fine townhouse. The next two months would be a test on her will, and that was putting it lightly. She hadn’t even made it through Mr. Chumley’s introductions without scolding his guest of honor.
But that was in the past. She would move forward, apologize to Mr. Branok for her discourteous words, reservedly express her enjoyment of his books, and then spend the rest of the expedition observing birds in silence and not dwelling a single moment more on Mr. Branok and his sparkling blue eyes.
And yet, just as she was beginning to be certain she could fulfill these goals, she caught Mr. Branok looking over his shoulder at her, and she realized with a skipping heart that those goals had been lofty at best.