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“However,” he began again, and her features fell, “there is one more matter I wish to address.”

“And what is that?” she asked.

He delivered a small smile. “When you said you would not create another disturbance…I certainly hope that is untrue. For what is life without a little disturbance now and again?”

He thought he saw a flicker of a smile shining in her eyes, but as Mrs. Haskett’s head popped forth from within the carriage, calling after her niece, their solitude ended.

“Lark! Heavens above, there you are,” Mrs. Haskett said, stretching out her hand toward Miss Fernside, though she hardly looked concerned. “I do not know how we became separated.”

Miss Fernside approached the carriage, making ready to give her excuses, but Henry walked forward and spoke first.

“Forgive me, Mrs. Haskett, but your niece and I were held up by Mr. Chumley,” Henry said, ensuring he spoke the truth, if not all of it. “He wished to speak on a few matters.”

“Oh, that is more than fine, sir, of course,” Mrs. Haskett said with a warm smile. Her soft, graying temples and wrinkled features tempered her words further. “I believe we are to share the same carriage, Mr. Branok. Do join us.”

“With pleasure,” he responded.

She pulled inside, and Miss Fernside looked up at Henry with gratitude. He gave a subtle nod before offering her help to enter the carriage.

She stared at his hand for a moment, then accepted it graciously. Her gloved fingers, so slender and petite, curved around his, fitting so effortlessly in his hand that his heart responded with a soft pattering.

He quickly put it back in its place. There would be no time for such nonsense, no matter how enticing the feeling.

When it was his turn to enter the carriage, he removed his hat and ducked inside, realizing a half a second later that each spot was taken, apart from the backward-facing seat beside Miss Fernside. She glanced at him, then quickly averted her gaze, as if she’d only now just realized the same as he did.

He had sat next to handsome women before this—though admittedly not as beautiful as Miss Fernside. There was nothing to be done but enjoy himself.

He settled upon his cushioned seat, then faced Mr. and Mrs. Haskett with a smile. “I do trust you will forgive my intrusion on what might have been a family affair.”

“Not at all,” Mr. Haskett responded. He boasted a high brow and tight lips with an overall no-nonsense air about him. Still, his smile was welcoming enough. “We hope you do not mind sitting with your back to the horses, sir. I fear my wife and I become quite plagued with illness when we ride in any carriage, but facing forward seems to help to a degree.”

“I am sorry to hear about your illness,” Henry responded. Now the seating arrangement made perfect sense. “But worry not. I suffer with no such malady.”

He settled deeper into his seat, aware of Miss Fernside slightly shifting farther away from him, as if she feared them touching.

He turned his eyes toward her, though was careful to keep his legs pointed away. “I assume you do not suffer from the same illness as your aunt and uncle, Miss Fernside?”

She held her book on her lap, her gloved hands gracefully folded atop the dark leather cover. “No, fortunately, I do not,” she replied.

“I suppose it is a very good thing you do not have such an illness, Mr. Branok,” Mrs. Haskett began. “Or you would be very miserable, indeed, on so many of your excursions.”

“Oh, yes,” Henry said. “However, I will admit to becoming quite unwell a time or two during particularly stormy days. There is nothing quite like traveling across an angry sea.”

“Do tell,” Mr. Haskett said. “We have all been waiting to hear more of your trip to…where was it again?”

“The West Indies, sir.”

“Ah, yes. We would love to hear all about your travels.”

Would they—including Miss Fernside?

Before he could say a word in response, a footman secured the door closed, and a moment later, the carriage jerked forward, causing the four of them to sway back and forth in their seats as the clip-clop of horse hooves and the rumbling of carriage wheels filled the air.

“And so we begin,” Mrs. Haskett said, looking at her niece with bright eyes.

Henry glanced at Miss Fernside just in time to see her grinning in return, and he was struck with the ethereal beauty of her natural smile that changed her features from fine and regal to soft, approachable, and dazzling.

And he had the woman and her family all to himself. His parents were certainly looking out for him from up above.