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“I enjoyed our conversation earlier,” he began again after he swallowed. “Before you shushed me, that is.”

He eyed her sidelong, and she hid her smile. “I can’t imagine how you were enjoying it. I wasn’t being particularly delicate.”

She never should have shared her opinion about his class—even though he’d asked her to. She hated to think that she’d offended him.

“Fortunately I wasn’t seeking delicacy,” he returned. “I appreciate your feedback and will take it into account. I only regret that we were interrupted. Perhaps we ought to carry on now?”

Lark wasn’t sure that was a good idea. Was it not better to leave things on a positive note? “I am uncertain. We almost missed seeing the kingfisher due to that conversation.”

“I can see your point,” he said. “I shudder to think how many birds you’d miss in this dining room if we continued now.” He stared at her from the corner of his eyes. “Unless you are counting the pheasant?”

He motioned to the pile of meat before them left untouched by them both.

“Perhaps that ought to be rule number seven,” she said. “Plated birds do not count toward our accumulative total.”

He laughed, then held a tanned fist to his lip, checking himself before he drew attention.

A thrill shot through her to know she’d elicited such a reaction.

Mr. Dunn’s words drifted toward them for a moment. “But with such a grand lake, I have the pleasure of seeing so many birds. I shall list them for you all. Wren. Robin. Swallow. Brent goose…”

He continued, but Lark didn’t hear as Mr. Branok spoke with her instead. “Might you agree to finish the conversation, though? For me?”

He sent her that ever-so-charming smile, and she sighed. She was fairly certain, if he asked her to, she’d eat that entire plate of pheasant before them, just so she could earn another one of those smiles.

“Very well,” she relented.

He smiled, satisfied. “I merely wished to know if there was any other advice you might have to make my instruction better.”

She humbly shook her head. “Really, sir, you ought not be taking any advice from me. I am no world traveler, as you well know, nor have I instructed others or…”

His grin stopped her, and she pulled back with a frown. “Why do you smile?”

“Because I cannot make heads nor tails of you, Miss Fernside.”

“What do you mean?”

“One minute, you are fully confident in your opinions and with your bird observations, and in the next, you humbly and readily set aside your accomplishments.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He was reading her far too accurately. “I have no accomplishments.”

“You see? Even now you dismiss yourself.” He stared over at her. “Now if only I could decipher which one is the real Miss Fernside.”

He looked at her expectantly, and to Lark’s surprise, she wanted to explain herself to Mr. Branok. Perhaps it was because he was the first man who had ever truly wished to know who she really was.

She glanced around the table, ensuring the others still listened to Mr. Dunn’s droning voice as she responded. “I suppose,” she began, “I am a bit of both. I must prove my worth for others to see my worth—for I do believe I have worth. But then, I do not wish to be seen as ungrateful or pompous.”

Mr. Branok seemed to mull over her words for a moment. “I understand your reasoning. And yet, you needn’t stifle your talents and abilities out of fear.”

“That is easier for you to say than for me to do. You are loved and embraced by all.”

His features sobered. “Not all.” He peered off, as if deep in thought. “But I have learned these last few years that we needn’t prove who we are. We simply need to be who we are.”

His eyes met hers, his stare delving into her soul as he continued. “You are a naturally humble person, Miss Fernside. I can see it in your eyes. But I have also been witness enough to know you are gifted. As such, if you ever have anything to share with the group—anything at all—I would welcome and appreciate your words and knowledge. For you have just as much right to be here as the rest of us.”

Lark didn’t know what to say. His words had tugged her spirits out of the cage they’d been locked within since the start of the excursion. And yet, she hesitated. To be her true self—bird-loving, fortune-hunted, society-despising Lark—was a frightening notion.

“Do you disagree with my words, or simply find fault in them?” Mr. Branok asked as she remained silent. “I can only assume both, due to that frown upon your brow.”