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She glanced at Mr. Branok, but he would not meet her gaze.

Crestfallen, Lark returned her attention to Mr. Taylor. “Yes, of course. I would be happy to.”

She excused herself from the others, feeling Mr. Branok’s eyes on her as she walked past and away from the circle, though she did not turn around.

Doing so would only lead to greater disappointment, for he was the only man she wished to dance with that evening—and she knew he was the only man who would not ask her.

Chapter 31

Henry was grateful when the small circle disbanded so he no longer had to speak.

His mind was too muddled, too confused. Seeing Miss Fernside in all her scarlet glory was even more unsettling.

He stood on the outskirts of the ballroom, doing his best not to watch as she twirled, spun, and clapped during the dance with her partner. The only knowledge that comforted him in that moment was knowing that the gentleman appeared far happier than Miss Fernside did.

Although, that didn’t surprise him. From what she had said before, he could only imagine how miserable she had to be within the confines of the ballroom instead of freely exploring the world—and birds—around her.

If only he could help her.

He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath before looking away from her. Such thoughts would not lead to anything productive. He was already confused enough. Wanting to ease her burdens, help her be happier, would only draw them closer together, and that was not what he wanted.

Or was it?

He blew out an aggravated sigh, rubbing his fingers against his temple to dispel the growing ache in his head.

He’d tried to forget about her. He’d tried to convince himself that she was not worth a second of his time. He’d tried to wrap his mind up with India so much he could care about nothing else. He was finally fulfilling his dream, his parents’ dream.

But none of it worked. She was the first thing he thought of when he woke up, the last thing he thought of when he fell asleep. Even then, he did not feel relief, for his dreams were filled with images of her smile and warm eyes.

Thinking of her wasn’t even the worst of it. It was the longing he had not expected. It was as if his very soul yearned to be with hers. To be strengthened by her, comforted by her, even challenged by her.

Even now, he had to fight to keep himself from striding directly toward her, interrupting the set, capturing her hand in his, and begging her to dance with him for all the rest of his days.

He turned away, but it did not help. Nothing ever did.

His eyes trailed to her once again. Her blonde curls were piled high and elegant atop her head as she danced. Rubies dangled from her ears, swinging jovially back and forth as she smiled at the couple dancing down the set.

Her gloved hands tapped in time with the music, and with each clap, Henry’s heart beat against his chest.

His time away from her was supposed to have subdued any attraction he held for her. But all it did was dissipate his hurt and anger. All it did was make him uneasy about the coming days when he would be without her. He could hardly manage two days. How was he to manage one hundred and fifty?

The same panic that had been growing for days sparked again inside his chest, igniting a greater desire to speak with her. If he still had to leave for India, if he still had to be parted from her, could he at the very least speak with her now? Would she allow him that much?

She’d wanted to before, had told him they could speak in Cornwall, but he’d promptly set her aside. Perhaps…perhaps he could ask her to dance now and tell her he would wait. Her Mother would allow him the opportunity to dance with her, surely. She seemed eager enough for her daughter to draw closer to him. And with Mr. Haskett nowhere in sight, Henry had more of a chance than ever.

He unabashedly observed Lark as she neared the end of the dance, his heart racing at the thought of speaking with her again, telling her he was bound for India, but that he wanted her—needed her—to still be his friend when he returned.

That knowledge would surely be enough to sustain him through their many months apart, would it not?

The music neared its completion. Henry tapped his fingers anxiously against his thighs, waiting for the song to end. However, when he glanced at his left and spotted Mr. Sebastian Drake standing nearby, Mr. Haskett’s words from before flooded his mind.

“Are the two of you merely acquaintances or have you struck a friendship with him?”

Henry had noticed Mr. Haskett becoming visibly agitated when Henry had called Mr. Drake honorable, and Henry had been wanting to decipher the meaning of that conversation since. Perhaps now would be the perfect time to do just that—before he spoke with Miss Fernside.

He glanced at her, her figure still dancing around her ever-smiling partner, then he made for Mr. Drake.

“Branok,” the gentleman greeted. “I hear you are headed to India.”