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He gave a short bow, then turned to leave, but she stopped him. “Mr. Branok?”

“Yes?”

She hesitated. “Thank you.”

“For what, Miss Fernside?”

“For accepting me as I am.” To his surprise, tears glistened in her eyes.

Henry could not keep from her any longer. Slowly, he reached down, taking her hand in his and bending low to place a kiss on the back of her soft skin.

He closed his eyes as he did so, lingering a moment, memorizing the feel of her hand in his, the warmth of her skin upon his lips, the scent of her swirling in his mind, until finally, he pulled back with a lingering look in her direction.

“It is my pleasure to know you as you are, Miss Fernside,” he whispered, then he gently released her hand, delivered another bow, and walked from the room.

Chapter 25

The Lake District – May 5, 1817

Over the next several days, the rain fell in droves. Though the women remained indoors, the men ventured forth each morning, returning in good spirits despite being thoroughly drenched.

Henry could only imagine how Miss Fernside felt, being trapped within the confines of Greygrove Manor, but they’d both agreed to continue their challenge, despite her being locked away.

“I do not think it fair for me to add birds to my list when you cannot,” Henry had told her.

But Miss Fernside had insisted. “If you don’t know I am still looking for birds out of the window every moment of the day, you are a greater simpleton than I thought.” Then her hazel eyes had sparkled.

So, Henry did his best to continue finding birds around him as he walked with the other gentlemen each morning, if only because he’d promised to do so.

But despite his best attempts, the birds were fewer and farther between, which pecked at the other men’s patience. Henry tried to keep them all satisfied, but doing so was difficult when something else was also niggling at his repose.

That of Mr. Haskett’s new and decided intolerance for Henry.

Henry had hoped he’d imagined the change that had come over the gentleman, but ever since Lord Blackstone’s name had been mentioned a few days prior, Miss Fernside’s uncle had essentially ended all friendly interaction with Henry.

Mr. Haskett was still respectful, but gone were their conversations during carriage rides, replaced with stiff silence and lowered brows. And gone was Mr. Haskett’s interest in Henry’s travels, for the man could barely stomach a glance in his direction, even when Henry instructed the party or taught more about the birds in the Lake District.

Henry had attempted to speak with Miss Fernside on the matter, but their conversations when her uncle was near had become painfully stinted, for Mr. Haskett’s hawk-like eyes watched them devotedly.

One morning, nine days after their arrival in the Lake District, Henry plucked up his resolve to confront the gentleman. He hardly cared if Mr. Haskett approved of his choice in club, but knowing that he was Miss Fernside’s uncle, Henry needed to put forth more effort, if only to keep his friendship with Miss Fernside intact.

With the rain still pouring forth from the dark skies above, Henry joined the gentlemen on their daily walk near the lake. He attempted time and again to walk beside Mr. Haskett, but the man was adept at avoidance.

Still, after his fourth attempt, Henry was successful, catching Mr. Haskett when the man became distracted with a nearby eider duck.

“Strange to see one so far beyond the coastline,” Henry began, “is it not?”

Mr. Haskett visibly stiffened. “Indeed, sir.”

His cravat stood tall and crisp, skimming the bottom of his ears as he maintained his view directly ahead.

They stood for a moment in silence. Henry struggled internally between his lack of concern over the man’s opinion and his desire to maintain a positive relationship.

Think of Miss Fernside.

“How are your niece and wife fairing remaining indoors so frequently?” Henry asked next.

“I believe they are quite content.”