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Henry attempted to clear his thoughts. “I am equally both.”

“Not excited, then?” Lord Blackstone asked.

Pull yourself together, Henry.

He cleared his throat, smiling. Honestly, this was excellent news. Leaving England, focusing on finding other birds—it would be just the thing he needed to forget about Miss Fernside altogether.

“On the contrary. I am thrilled,” he responded. “I cannot wait to leave. When is the departure date?”

“There he is,” Lord Blackstone said with a chuckle to the others. He faced Henry again. “The ship will set sail the first week of June. I had to pull quite a few strings to make this happen, but we must jump on this opportunity. It took…”

Henry’s heart fell, and Lord Blackstone’s words faded away. The first week of June. That was a week before Cornwall wrapped up. That meant he would miss seven days of the excursion. And seven days of Miss Fernside’s presence.

Such knowledge should have excited him further. After all, why should he care about leaving her? They had been friends, nothing more, and he’d been leaving behind good friends for years.

And yet, the twisting pain within, the emptiness that filled his heart at the knowledge of no longer seeing Miss Fernside, was nearly unbearable.

“Of course,” Lord Blackstone continued, “this means you will have to cut short your trip now, but that won’t be a problem, will it?”

Henry stared. Yes, it would be a problem, but not because of what the viscount thought.

This was what Henry had been trying to prevent all along. This was why he’d never wanted to marry. Because he wanted to travel without regret, without leaving anyone behind. He wanted to join these excursions because there was no reason not to.

The noise around the cardroom pressed down on him, the heat from too many bodies and shining candles causing beads of sweat to slide down his back.

Leaving on excursions was far easier knowing his parents were gone and he had no other immediate family members living. Leaving behind Miss Fernside would make him long for home—long for her presence, effectively causing the excursion to be one filled with pain, regret, and loneliness, even more than he already experienced.

But he should not be feeling any of this. Miss Fernside had, in an essence, rejected him. Chosen her uncle over himself. So how had she captured him so fully that he was already regretting the time he wouldn’t get to spend with her? How had he allowed himself to be so wrapped up in the mere memory of her affection that he’d even considered beginning a deeper relationship with her?

He wouldn’t stand for it.

“I see no problem at all,” Henry stated calmly, ignoring the way his voice echoed mutely in his own thoughts. “I will simply tell the host I’ve no other option but to leave early.”

Mr. Chumley would have no problem with that. Henry would be finished with his teaching by that point, anyway, and the others would be allowed to venture forth on their own to put into practice all they had learned.

And Miss Fernside would…Well, she would do whatever she wished to do, and whatever that was, it wasn’t Henry’s concern.

“Excellent,” Lord Blackstone said, beaming.

He carried on about plans for the expedition, and Henry did his best to listen and show his excitement, despite the trepidation unsettling his happiness.

Leaving Miss Fernside would be painful. He was man enough to admit it. So departing from Cornwall early was for the best—for both of them.

This way, she could remain single and free to live her own life. Henry could do the same. And both of them would be happy in their decisions.

At least on his part, he hoped that would be the case. For as of right now, all he could think of was how departing from Miss Fernside was not the answer to his happiness.

The last few weeks had made that clear enough.

Chapter 30

London – May 15, 1817

Since her arrival in London two days prior, Lark had been to more social events than she wanted to for the rest of her days. Granted, there had been a single dinner party, two promenades through Hyde Park, and only one ball, which she was attending currently, but still, she was utterly spent.

Apparently, she had grown far too accustomed to being around like-minded individuals whose first love was a bird. The people she was forced to associate with now were as drab as dry dirt, going on and on about “this hairstyle” and “that cravat” and always the latest gossip.

Even so, Lark would do her duty and play the part of the amiable female in search of a husband to fulfill her agreement with Mother—even if it was all for pretend.