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“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.