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“Do you…” she began gently. “Lark, darling, do you regret your refusal?”

Lark looked between her aunt and uncle, fearful of their response, but when she hooked onto Aunt’s gentle gaze, she could no longer deny the words aloud.

“Yes. Very much,” she breathed.

Aunt’s eyes glistened. “You mean to say you wish to accept him?”

Lark’s heart overflowed at the very notion. “Yes, very much,” she repeated. “I have to tell him. I have to let him know.”

Aunt’s smile spread across her lips as she turned to Uncle. “You said he only left an hour ago?”

“Well, yes, but I⁠—”

“Call for a carriage, Francis.”

“Now see here, she cannot⁠—”

Aunt turned to face him with a tight-lipped expression Lark had never before seen. “No, you see here, my dear,” she stated firmly. “Lark is old enough and of a sound mind. If she says she wishes to accept an amiable gentleman’s proposal, there is no reason for us not to lend our undying support.”

Uncle’s face grew red. “If he were amiable, that would be fine, but he is not. He is a member of⁠—”

“Oh,” Aunt Harriet broke off, casting an impatient look to the ceiling. “If I hear one more word about ‘Blackstone’s this’ and ‘White’s that,’ I shall go mad.”

“It matters!” Uncle exclaimed. “He is not a good man, he⁠—”

“Uncle?”

This time, Lark interrupted, her voice soft through their argument. They faced her, both falling silent at her words.

“I know you wish to protect me, and you always have,” she began, “But I am older now than I was with Mr. Yates. Older and wiser. I have learned much. And I can say assuredly that Henry Branok is a good man. He is the best of men. And I will accept his proposal and marry him, if he will still have me.”

Uncle grew more and more flustered, huffing unintelligible words as fear shone in his eyes.

Lark’s heart reached out to him, and she placed a soothing hand on his arm. “I cannot thank you enough for always being there for me, Uncle Francis. Though, I assure you, I know what I am doing. You will see in time. But right now, I must find him.” Then she looked to Aunt. “Will you help me?”

Aunt beamed. “What are we waiting for?”

Together, the two of them ran from the room, Uncle following closely behind them, still red in the face, though silent as they reached the entryway and Mrs. Chumley and Mrs. Shepherd walked in at that same moment.

“Heavens, what is all this about?” Mrs. Chumley asked, looking from person to person.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Mrs. Shepherd asked next.

Lark met her eyes. Mrs. Shepherd would never know what Lark had overheard the other night, but Lark felt a kinship with her she’d never experienced with anyone other than Aunt.

As such, she smiled at her knowingly. “I’m going after Mr. Branok.”

Mrs. Shepherd’s eyes lit with joy.

“He left?” Mrs. Chumley asked, glancing between the others again.

Lark caught them up to speed while Uncle steamed silently in the background, and moments later, Mrs. Chumley herself called for a carriage.

“We’re coming with you,” she stated. “This is far more appealing than making ready to find some bird in the cold tonight.”

Mrs. Shepherd nodded, and Aunt happily agreed. “Any amount of carriage sickness is worth this.”

Lark could only smile.