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“I hope you don’t mind,” Tenburgh said at her approach. “I was getting chilled. The wine helps.”

“You don’t have a shirt,” she hurled back in an annoyed tone though she was giddy at the sight of him. Especially those long muscular arms and chiseled torso. He really was quite spectacular.

I could swoon. Again. Right now.

“And that belongs to me,” she said, nodding at the wine. “To celebrate the end of my research.”

“Well, it isn’t as if you were going to drink the entire bottle even if you found all your little beetles.” The half-smile was firmly fixed on his lips, his eyes on her soft.

“Psyllobora vigintiduopunctata.” A most delicious sensation bloomed across her chest, though she tried to tamp it down. “Why are you still here?”

Tenburgh made a huffing sound. “What did I tell you about the Latin, Analise? Rather unfair of you to keep using it. I was waiting for you.”

Her heart fluttered again.

“It is hardly my fault you failed at Latin.” Analise plopped down beside him, trying not to smile. She’d been prepared to not see him, ever again, yet she was ridiculously happy he was here.

“According to the headmaster at Eton, I was incapable of learning another language. Which is true. I’m equally terrible at French. You probably speak it, don’t you?”

“ Oui .”

A sound came from him. Disgust. “I ate all the roast beef and the bread, but.” He held up one hand.

“I left you some cheese and a handful of strawberries. I didn’t omit breakfast intentionally this morning, but one of my secretaries appeared and started to badger me about,” he twirled a finger around, “matters.”

“How many secretaries do you have, my lord?”

“Four. Constant irritations. They are one of the reasons I wished to take a sojourn in the countryside, along with my complete disregard for balls, fetes, and garden parties where they serve watered down punch.” He peered at Analise over the lip of the bottle.

“Annoying a female entomologist was not expected.”

“You do annoy me,” Analise replied. “So much.”

“You like it.” He took another swallow of the wine. “Tell me, Analise, don’t you think Ware, great beast that he is, looks silly tiptoeing about with a tiny net in his hand? How he managed to wed Tamsin Sinclair is a mystery. They are nothing alike.”

“She’s very beautiful,” Analise said reaching for a bit of cheese.

“That isn’t why he wed her.” Tenburgh sighed.

“We have a history, me and the duke. There were many times David and I would see Ware roaming the lawn around our estate intent on a moth. Apparently, the moths he sought adored our gardens more than his own. My mother insisted Ware must be tetched in the head. But he isn’t. ”

“No, my lord. Only focused. His marriage is a love match.”

“Even I can see that much, though Ware and his duchess are complete opposites and appear to have nothing in common.” Tenburgh’s eyes lingered over Analise. “I am more like the duchess, I think. We both like horses a great deal.”

“Am I Ware in this comparison?” She chewed the cheese, demanding her heart stop waffling about.

“I am attempting to make a point. But yes, you are Ware.”

“How flattering.” Analise reached into the basket and fished out the tin cup tucked inside. She held it out. “At least share the wine. You’ve left little else, my lord.”

“I would prefer you address me as Finley. I’m not overly fond of my title, which I’m sure you’ve surmised, clever little beetle collector.”

“I don’t know you at all, my lord.”

“Finley. And I disagree. I would venture you see me better than most even after so short an acquaintance. Why do I not care to be a marquess, Analise? Shouldn’t I boast about it, especially if I am intent on seduction?”

Analise had figured out that much about the man sitting beside her. Which made her earlier assessment of his motives false and the unexpected feeling between them, real . As unlikely as that might be.

She took a sip of the wine, allowing it to sit on her tongue. “Because the cost to be a marquess was your brother,” Analise finally said. “You would give it all up to have him back. That is why the title means little, why you don’t care to be in society, and why you left London.”

He nodded and lifted the bottle. “I should warn you, I’m rather persistent.”

“Persistent?” She frowned at the abrupt change in his tone. “About what, exactly, my lord?”

“You, Miss Peregrine. I intend to be persistent about you . I realize it is sudden, but I’m declaring my intentions now.

And I have something to confess.” His eyes ran over her.

“You’ve had two reeds stuck atop your head for the entire day, making you appear like one of your beetles.

I neglected to tell you.” He leaned over and deftly plucked something from her hair, holding out the reeds.

“I thought they’d fall out while you were out searching for your ladybirds. ”

Analise bit her lip to keep from laughing. “That was unkind.”

“Do not allow that to sway your opinion of me.” Finley cocked his head.

The ache in her heart grew stronger. Analise pressed a kiss to his cheek, surprising him.

“Too late,” she whispered.