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Her embarrassment melted away, her hazel eyes watching him with such focus, he nearly became unnerved, but he maintained her stares so she might know he spoke the truth.

“You must have thought me so callous, so detached from reality when we first met,” he continued. “To think I attempted to prevent individuals from calling themselves observers simply because they were incapable of leaving their homes.” He grimaced. “I truly did not wish to cause offense. And I am sorry that I so clearly did.”

Her features softened as much as her voice. “All is well, Mr. Branok.”

And just like that, she’d forgiven him again. He could not look away from her this time. She glowed in the grey light of the morning’s rain. Flawless skin, warm eyes, soft curls. Lips coaxing and tempting as they smiled at him. Lips he’d had the chance to taste before—but would never have again.

He and Miss Fernside had made such progress to become better friends. But then, the look in her eyes—and what he assumed was in his own—was anything but friendship.

Which was precisely why he needed to look away. Doing so would help him prevent another mistake of nearly kissing her. He respected her too greatly—just as he respected their mutual desire to remain single—to allow himself to falter again.

Unless…unless Miss Fernside just so happened to change her mind in a few years.

He cleared his throat, setting aside the ridiculous notion to return to the more platonic—and safer—conversation from before.

“So you truly have read my work over and over again?” he asked.

She sighed, clearly giving up her denial. “I have.”

“Then how on earth did you confuse me with Mr. Dunn if you were so intimately aware of my work.”

Her high cheekbones painted pink. “I had never seen you before. Though that was not due to any lack of effort. You are the reason I chose to⁠—”

She stopped abruptly, her eyes wide and lips parted.

“I’m the reason you chose to what exactly?” he pressed.

She held her lower lip between her teeth, tantalizing, though he knew she was not meaning to be. “Never mind.”

As if there was any possible way he could let his curiosity go. “Come now, Miss Fernside. Surely we are past feeling embarrassment around each other.”

“Surely we are not.”

He scooted forward to the edge of his seat, shifting to face her more fully and casting her his most charming smile. “I promise you are safe to tell me.”

“No, it is far too telling.”

“What if I promise not to tease you?”

She shook her head.

“If I promise not to respond at all?”

“No.”

“It really is that telling?” he asked.

“It really is that humiliating.”

He thought for a moment. “What if I agree to remove ten birds from my list?”

“That would be against the rules.”

“Very well. May I beg?”

“Certainly. But it won’t work. There is no amount of begging in this world that would convince me to⁠—”

Her words stopped, and she gasped as Henry left his chair behind to take a knee before her, wrapping his hands around one of hers as he held it just above her lap.