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She was finished with being pulled this way and that due to her interactions with him—embarrassed, flattered, wounded. Let Mr. Branok complain to Mr. Chumley. Lark would no longer hold her tongue.

“I manage to see birds because I am capable of doing so, sir ,” she stated, indignation burning in the center of her chest. “And I assure you, I do very well despite my unfortunate circumstances and have seen more than just a few birds.”

One hundred and fifty-four to be exact. But she wasn’t about to share that number with him, as he had to have somewhere near nine hundred on his own lifelong list.

To her surprise—and even further infuriation—the man cracked a smile, that glimmer in his eyes returning full force. “Of course,” he said.

Did he tease her? Was he satisfied now that he’d riled her up? What she wouldn’t give to throw her journal toward him and prove just how many birds she had seen.

“I have ,” she restated in a raised voice, checking her tone with a quick glance at Aunt and Uncle, who remained fast asleep.

She wouldn’t wish to wake them—not when she was finally allowing herself to speak freely. Aunt and Uncle would no doubt remind her of her desire to hold her tongue, but she was past the point of caring now.

“I trust you keep a lifelong list of the birds you’ve seen?” Mr. Branok asked next.

“I do.”

“Would you care to share a number?”

“No, I would not. Only know that it is more than sufficient.”

He smiled again. “Very well. You may keep your secret. At any rate, I do not doubt that you have seen many birds.”

He leaned against the back of his seat with arms folded, and his leg moved toward her in the motion, grazing Lark’s knee. A shock of energy sailed up her thigh, and she pulled back with a frown, but he did not seem to notice that he’d even touched her.

He smirked as he continued. “But you cannot deny that you would see more birds, should you leave your home and your books behind. After all, is that not the reason you are here on the excursion?”

Her gaze faltered for just a moment as she thought of her real reason being that of Mr. Branok’s presence, but she readily set that notion aside.

He was a reason no longer, of that she was certain.

“I am on this excursion to see more birds, yes,” she returned in a soft tone, keeping her knees tucked and safely away from the man’s encroaching movements.

“But I do not do so to raise myself above others. I simply wish to see more birds because of my love for them. I assure you, however, that I witnessed enough in Suffolk to be more than satisfied with the amount I’ve seen.

” She paused, knowing full well she was not being truthful, but she greatly lacked the desire to stop her words.

“Oh, but I forget, I am not considered a true observer of birds unless I leave England, explore the world, and write seven—sorry, eight —books, as you have done.”

“Now, Miss Fernside,” he said with a knowing tip of his head in her direction. He had a look about him filled with insufferable patience and even, dare she think it, tempered amusement . “You know I did not say that.”

She raised her chin. “Perhaps that was not your exact phrasing, but that is what you meant, for that is how all gentlemen think.”

She must have revealed a little too much bitterness, then, for he paused, seeming to think before he spoke again.

“I must apologize,” he said softly, flicking his gaze in the direction of Aunt and Uncle.

“I did not mean to cause offense. Allow me to start again. All I wished to say was that if you have the chance to leave abroad—I would suggest that you take it, for there is much to see, and you appear keen to see it.”

His apology was so graceful, so generous, Lark was minded to accept it instantly.

But then, if she did, what would become of her?

Surely this was not the last time they would disagree—surely this was not the last time he would cause her offense, for most gentlemen caused continuous offense. Excepting Uncle, of course.

If she relented now, that would only leave her open to feeling more pain and frustration in the future. Better to keep her defenses at the ready.

But she could feign generosity better than even he could.

“Thank you,” she stated. “I apologize for any misunderstanding on my part, as well. However, I will end on this—while there is much to see of the world beyond our country, there perhaps is more than you haven’t seen inside of England than out.”

She gave a curt nod, then pulled her body to sit straight as she cast a leveled gaze out of the window, determined to ignore Mr. Branok until Aunt and Uncle arose and she would be forced to behave.

But Mr. Branok spoke again. “I must admit, I cannot agree with you,” he said, his voice reaching her ears across the rumbling carriage.

She attempted to keep her focus on the trees atop the distant hills again, but his words were too much to ignore. Why did he insist on sustaining their conversation—or rather, their argument? Did he enjoy it? Or was he simply not finished exasperating her yet?

Either way, she found responding impossible to resist. “I expected as much,” she said. Her eyes traced the favorable angle of his jawline and the golden tint of his skin that resembled the tops of warm, buttered rolls.

“Why is that?” he asked, one corner of his masculine lips lifting.

The look in his eyes as they searched her features held something akin to admiration in them, and her stomach dipped.

Swiftly, she looked away. He did not admire her.

And even if he did, she would do well to remind herself what sort of person he was, for a handsome face could not make up for a decided lack of character—no matter how her quickened heart begged to differ.

“Have you explored England?” she asked, knowing very well that he had not.

“I cannot say that I have,” he stated confidently.

“Then that is why I expected you to disagree,” she said. “How can you know what you are missing when you have not even bothered to explore your own country? There are a number of species here. Over four hundred.”

“Yes, I am aware of that.” He paused. “And nearly eleven thousand in the world.” He dipped his chin and looked at her with those sea-blue pools. “Not much of a comparison, is there?”

Her heartbeat stamped an image in her mind of that look, never to be replaced. Drat. He was far too charming for his own good, even when he was attempting to instruct her.

“Very well,” she agreed, “there is no comparison when referencing the number of species. However, the level of difficulty of finding birds in one’s own country is far greater than finding them in others.”

His smile grew. “And just how have you come to that conclusion, Miss Fernside?”

She turned her eyes to face him evenly, careful to keep her legs away from him this time.

“Because when one exhausts all the common and recurring birds in one’s own country, one must work harder to discover the scarcer birds.

However, when a gentleman ventures forth to countless countries, he can easily find all their common birds and consider himself quite the skillful observer, when in reality, he has only discovered the easily ascertainable birds, as opposed to the rarer birds in England. ”

He didn’t respond for a moment, his eyes searching hers before a dazzling smile broke out across his lips.

Her own smile faded, then. That was not the response for which she’d hoped. Why was he not put in his place, as she had been before?

“Miss Fernside,” he began, his eyes delving into hers as he drew closer to her, “are you suggesting you are a better bird observer than I?”

She knew he was meaning to intimidate her with his closeness, but she refused to allow him to see the fact that it was affecting her—her skipping heart making it difficult to draw in steady breaths.

She leaned closer to him until their faces were mere inches apart and she could see the dark blue outline of his sea-colored eyes. “I am not suggesting , Mr. Branok.”

His eyes flicked between hers, shining with barely restrained mirth, but she did not budge. However, when his gaze dropped to her lips for a single moment, her breathing stopped altogether.

Out of seemingly thin air, a peculiar pull occurred between them—a magnetism she could not deny.

She had never felt such an attraction before, as if she could not keep herself from leaning forward.

And as his focused gaze moved back to her eyes, locking her in place, she felt as if the two of them were the only people left in existence.

“What say you to proving your claim?” Mr. Branok asked, interrupting her drifting thoughts with a low, rumbling voice.

Lark blinked. What claim had that been? Ah, yes. That she was the better bird observer. Her mind was still in a hazy fog, brought on by his proximity, that look in his eyes, and that smirk…That smirk that spoke of just how greatly he was aware of what his closeness was doing to her.

She pulled away at the thought, snapping out of the stupor she’d allowed herself to fall into. This gentleman was utterly too attractive.

“Unfortunately, there is no way to prove such a thing,” she stated, quite pleased with how smooth her tone was, compared to how he’d unsettled her.

“Oh, I can think of a way,” he said softly.

She may have pulled back, but he, however, remained leaning toward her.

“What way is that, then?” she asked, getting lost in his eyes.

“By taking part in a competition,” he replied, “just the two of us.”