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A nalise sat curled into Finley’s side as clouds floated above them and a breeze stirred her still damp clothing.

He asked a multitude of questions about her research and in return, Analise decided to limit her use of Latin.

He seemed genuinely interested in why she’d decided on entomology and how her passion for insecta had started.

A first for Analise, honest interest in what she considered her purpose.

“My parents died some time ago,” she said.

“I live with Martha and her family. My sister loves me, but does not understand my scientific nature. Hardly surprising, given Mother and Father didn’t either.

I suppose Martha assumes that now that they are both gone, it is her duty to oversee my life,” Analise said with annoyance.

“Do you have any siblings, who are determined to be overbearing?”

Finley made a noncommittal sound. He stared out at the lake, hand still toying with her own, though he’d grown rather pensive.

Perhaps she had bored him. Or he was having regrets.

The silence between them lengthened and she waited for Finley to mumble something polite.

Jump back into the lake and swim away, never to be seen again.

It was ridiculous to assume anything more would come of today, though part of her wished for it.

She had never met a man like Finley before, one who seemed to accept all her eccentricities.

But Finley didn’t leave, he merely sat beside her, stroking the inside of her wrist staring at the water.

Her clothing was nearly dry. Analise had her research to complete. She cleared her throat. “Well, my ladybirds await. I should probably—”

“I’ve seen the duke march about dozens of times with his tiny tweezers,” he interrupted her.

“But I never paid him a great deal of attention. It was David who always asked Ware questions.” His features clouded for an instant.

“He was…far more scientifically inclined than I. Better at Latin.” Finley’s gaze remained on the lake.

“David?” she asked.

“He thought Ware’s hobby to be fascinating,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“I, on the other hand, thought pinning all those poor moths to a board somewhat sadistic. The duke would often camp on this island. Sometimes for days. Collecting his bugs.” There was a faraway look in Finley’s eyes.

“He doesn’t do it now. Spend the night here. That was before .”

“Before?” She had a sense that Finley was about to say something unwelcome. She’d had the same feeling watching Entwhistle call upon Father to declare Analise’s lack of appeal.

“Before Ware inherited the title,” Finley said, eyes deep and dark as he turned to face her.

Devoid of anything but lingering sadness.

“Which he was never meant to. That is the only thing the duke and I have in common, besides you, Miss Peregrine. Our brothers died.” There was a bitter sound to him. “And we were left to carry on.”

Analise scuttled back from him, staring at him in disbelief. “You’re Tenburgh.” She jerked away, nearly tripping over the fire. Finley, shirtless and swimming about, was the marquess. Ware’s neighbor.

Oh, Analise, you idiot.

She’d been so… overwhelmed by his looks and the sight of his naked chest, she hadn’t really looked at Finley. The aristocratic cast to his features. The arrogance with which he spoke.

Latin wasn’t my best subject.

She stumbled towards her leather satchel thinking that her observation skills were sorely lacking. Not only had she assaulted a marquess with an oar, but Analise had foolishly allowed—

“This is your island. Your lake. You aren’t supposed to be in residence. Ware said you stay in London.”

“Technically, the lake is only half mine,” he answered. “And life in town became excessively tedious. I was bored out of my mind. Thus, I retired to the country.”

“Why,” she demanded as hurt filled her, “wouldn’t you tell me. You could have anyone.”

“You were so excited about your ladybirds; I didn’t want to spoil…things. You were much happier believing I was a horse training groom.”

“Psyllobora vigintiduopunctata ,” she spat out. “Not ladybirds. Psyllobora vigintiduopunctata.”

“Stop flinging Latin at me,” he shot back.

Analise had not regretted what occurred between them, but now she did. She could have seen a future with a horse-training Finley. Maybe. But there was absolutely no chance of a future with the Marquess of Tenburgh. She was so far beneath him that the very idea was ludicrous.

“You sought amusement in the country.”

“I sought an escape,” he snapped. “London had become dull.”

There was no mutual attraction, no instant connection between them, no actual feeling .

Only a jaded marquess seeking a way to escape the tedium of his privileged existence.

Didn’t she see the same sort often enough at the scientific lectures she attended?

Gentlemen with no purpose in life so they pretended interest in subjects they cared nothing about, yawning in boredom before finally slipping out of the lecture hall.

Martha’s fears had not been unfounded, it seemed.

For all your brilliance, Analise, you are woefully na?ve in certain matters.

“I hope I’ve provided satisfactory entertainment for you today, my lord.” This stung far worse than Entwhistle.

“Analise.” He reached for her, and she stepped away.

“Miss Peregrine,” she replied crisply.

“Your assumptions are incorrect.” He shook his head. “Never mind. You won’t listen.”

Picking up her leather satchel, she straightened her shoulders. “I am sorry about your brother, my lord. Feel free to enjoy the basket. I’ll collect it later, or not. I thank you for your help. And the fire. But I must get on with my research. I bid you good day.”

Analise didn’t wait for a reply before she marched off into the tree line, more upset than she’d ever been in her life.

She didn’t stop until the water was out of sight.

Reaching a tall tree, she finally halted and took a deep painful breath.

Seemed a perfect spot to wallow in self-pity. She should have known.

A man finding her desirable? An utter absurdity.

Clearing her throat, she moved forward. There was a path, although a little overgrown. She had work to accomplish. Research that would solidify her reputation. Worth far more than a few moments of stolen pleasure.

Tenburgh had likely already departed. The only positive was that she was unlikely to ever see him again. No one would know what occurred today. Hopefully. Unless he was something of a braggart.

She focused on the trees before her, eyes scanning the undergrowth. When she saw the psyllobora vigintiduopunctata circling the small puddle before her, Analise took a deep breath, joy and purpose filled her. There was work to do.