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“Name it.”

“You must let me know the moment you publish your book about all your bird findings in India so I can be the first in line to purchase it.”

She’d expected a smile from him in return. Perhaps a chuckle. But when his features softened, and he fixed his attention on her, a fissure of delight stirred in her stomach.

“Miss Fernside,” he said, “have you any notion how fortunate I am to simply know you?”

A sudden emotion washed over her, a perfect mixture of love and sorrow. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them swiftly away. She shouldn’t be feeling any more attraction to Mr. Branok. She shouldn’t be falling in love with him any more than she already was. But how could she not when he spoke such lovely things to her?

He took a step toward her, his intent clear as he closed the distance between them. He reached his hand to her cheek, her skin tingling with anticipation.

Snap!

A twig broke behind them, followed swiftly by voices, and Lark’s heart jumped to her throat.

They were not alone out there. If she and Mr. Branok were to be discovered…

She shot a look toward him, but he was already in motion. He seized her hand and pulled her deep into the woods.

Chapter 34

Mr. Branok led her through the forest, weaving their way around trunks and bushes until he pulled her behind a wide tree. He leaned his back against the trunk, pulling her body face forward against him to shield her from any sighting. She clung to the sides of his jacket, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, though she tried to stifle it, for each breath pulled her closer to Mr. Branok. He held her in place, his strong hands searing her upper forearms with heat, as if his protective hands would be branded into her skin forever.

At least then she would have a part of him with her when he left.

The voices grew louder, a distinct male and female tone marking the air.

“Who are they?” Lark dared to whisper.

Mr. Branok didn’t respond for a moment, then he bent down, whispering in her ear, “Shepherds.”

His breath tickled the side of her neck, and pleasant chills ran up and down her skin. She closed her eyes to balance herself, his proximity making her head spin as he straightened, though he kept hold of her behind the tree.

She strained to listen to the couple approaching, finally hearing their words.

“This is utterly ridiculous, Mr. Shepherd,” Mrs. Shepherd said in a voice that Lark guessed was supposed to be a whisper.

“Ridiculous?” Mr. Shepherd returned. “My dear Mrs. Shepherd, this is romantic.”

Mrs. Shepherd giggled, and a small degree of Lark’s nerves settled, at least in regard to being discovered. Of all those in their party, the Shepherds would cause the least amount of damage.

Though Lark had always said she cared not what Society thought of her, she did not have the energy to go through whatever rumors would abound should she and Mr. Branok be caught in such a compromising situation. As such, she sealed her lips as the couple drew closer.

“Come along, my darling,” Mr. Shepherd was saying, “where is your sense of adventure?”

“I never had one, if you recall. You would no doubt be better off on your own out here.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Shepherd said at once. “I am far happier with you than without. After all, what would be the purpose in partaking in an activity like this if I cannot share it with the one I love?”

Lark felt the hair at her brow shift back and forth with the breeze, only to discover it was Mr. Branok’s breath instead, warm and steady against her skin, his fingers still encircling her in a protective yet gentle manner she’d never before experienced.

“It is freezing out,” Mrs. Shepherd continued, her voice jerking as if she shivered. “Why can we not find the bird in the daytime?”

“You heard Mr. Branok. The bird is most active at night. Come now, I shall keep you warm.”

Silence followed. The couple must have stopped just a few feet away from the tree Lark and Mr. Branok had hidden behind, for Mrs. Shepherd’s giggling sounded louder. “I thought you brought me out here to find that night…ling? Night…tern?”

“Nightjar,” Mr. Shepherd said.