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Mr. Branok frowned, while Mr. Drake looked as if he wished to crawl into a very large, very deep hole.

What a fool she’d been. How blind she’d been—just like before.

“This clears up matters perfectly,” she said, though nothing was clear at all.

“What matters?” Mr. Branok questioned, his brow furrowed.

Lark hardly heard him, her mind connecting the dots from here and there as she tried to make sense of Uncle’s accusations and Mr. Branok’s behavior that just didn’t match up.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew him?” she asked in a haze. “And why didn’t you tell me why you were blackballed?”

His look of confusion grew. “Miss Fernside, please…”

But she shook her head. “No, it doesn’t matter any longer.”

And it didn’t. She was past the point of caring. Her anger, her stress, her will to fight slipped through her fingers.

What did it matter if the men were friends? What did it matter how he was blackballed? And what did it matter if she ended her relationship with Mr. Branok? It never would have lasted anyway.

She raised her chin. “I hear you are off to India.”

He hesitated, clearly confused with the shift in her persona. “Who did you…I was hoping to tell you myself.”

Mr. Drake looked between them, appearing more uncomfortable by the second.

“You needn’t tell me anything now.” She took a step away from him. “I truly hope your time there is a success. As for our challenge, we may render it void so you will be under no obligation to finish it.”

His features fell, but she refused to apologize.

She looked between the men. “I hope you both find what you are looking for, though I pray it is not at the expense of another woman. Farewell, to you both.”

Mr. Drake remained silent as Mr. Branok called after her, but Lark marched ahead. She was finished. Finished being whipped from one emotion to the next, and one gentleman to the next.

From now on, she would simply be Miss Lark Fernside.

Forever and always…alone.

Chapter 32

Henry stared after Miss Fernside, utterly speechless. What on earth had just happened? He and Mr. Drake had been having a civil enough conversation. Henry had asked if he knew Mr. Haskett, Mr. Drake had hemmed and hawed, then without warning, Miss Fernside had appeared.

She was clearly upset, believing he and Mr. Drake were close friends, then she’d written Henry off, as if she never meant to speak with him again. How had she jumped to such an act?

“Deuces,” Mr. Drake muttered under his breath.

Henry looked at the man, an awkward expression across his features.

“Branok, I owe you an apology for dragging you into this.”

“Dragging me into what, exactly?” Henry asked. He had utterly no idea as to what had just occurred.

Mr. Drake glanced over his shoulder toward the door, then back at Henry. “I must make this brief. I…I have somewhere I need to be. But first, you must promise to repeat this to no one.”

Henry hesitated. He knew Mr. Drake to be honorable enough. But to be sworn to secrecy? And yet, if this allowed him to understand what had just occurred with Miss Fernside, he would do anything.

“Of course, sir.”

Mr. Drake leaned toward him, his words swift and soft. “I cannot explain in detail why, but I have no other choice but to marry money.”