Page 50

This gown always did the trick.

A hint of guilt crept up behind her, reminding her of why she’d worn the gown in the first place—and how she’d retreated because of it. And yet, now that Mr. Branok stared at her exactly as she’d hoped he would, she could not find the desire within her to stop him.

Even with knowing the rumors about his name.

She hesitated at the thought.

Long ago, when gossip had spread about her around Suffolk—word that she’d scared Mr. Yates off due to her strange obsession with birds or that she was too greedy to share her inheritance with a husband—Lark would have given anything to have the chance to share her side of the story—the truth. But no one cared enough to ask.

Had Mr. Branok ever had the opportunity to share the truth? Dare she ask?

“Or perhaps,” she began, her heart rapping against her chest, “we both hold a certain sway over others.”

His eyes met hers, curious.

“Or so at least I hear,” she ended heavily.

He tipped his head to the side, so the angle of his jaw looked even sharper. Slowly, recognition settled in his expression. “Listening to rumors, are we?”

She shrugged, keeping her shoulder raised in the air. “I suppose I am not so very wise after all.”

He eyed her shoulder still raised in the air, then followed the length of her arm before allowing his gaze to linger on her bare hand on the banister.

“What have you heard, then?”

Chapter 16

Lark steadied herself on the step as she responded to Mr. Branok’s question. She did not relish sharing such things with him. But he had more of a right to know than anyone what was being said.

She would simply have to beg forgiveness in her prayers that evening for breaking her promise to Penelope in allowing the rumors to spread to just one more person.

“There’s talk of a woman falling for you,” she replied, “incapable of resisting you. But that you could not bear to have your wings clipped, so you allowed her to fall in love with you, only to leave her at the first sign of another expedition.”

His eyes found hers. “So nothing new, then.”

She paused. He knew? How long had the rumors been spreading? “I must apologize for even mentioning such things,” she said.

“Then why did you?” His question wasn’t condemning in any way, merely asked with sincerity.

“Because when something is said about a person, that person has the right to know.”

He nodded, pensive. “So, your bringing up these matters has nothing to do with your own curiosity to see if such rumors were true?”

She hesitated until she saw the smile in his eyes. He wasn’t upset? How was this possible?

“Very well,” she replied. “A small part of me is curious. But I did not tell you to force a confession out of you.”

He nodded, and to her surprise, belief registered in his expression. “You are as generous as you are wise, Miss Fernside. And I must thank you. Not many would provide such consideration. Although, I should expect such coming from you, knowing the rumors about your own name.”

She blanched, swallowing hard as she attempted to speak levelly. “Y-you know of them?”

To her surprise, he grinned. “No. I know of no such rumors. I was merely attempting to catch you out, which I have appeared to do so successfully.”

His smile grew as he was so obviously pleased with his subterfuge, and despite herself, Lark smiled in return. “You are a scoundrel, Mr. Branok.”

“That will be unsurprising to you, given the rumors about my name,” he returned. “But what would you say in regard to the gossip you’ve experienced?”

She thought for a moment. “Like all tattle, what sliver of truth there may be is shrouded by an overabundance of untruths.”