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Lark had told Penelope of Mr. Chumley’s stipulations even before Aunt and Uncle—and Lark had sworn her to secrecy about the hefty price she’d paid as well. Was there something Penelope wished to discuss further in regard to either of these topics?

If there was, she remained silent, helping Lark dress down to her stays and chemise before Lark sat in front of the looking glass as Penelope started her hair.

Throughout it all, Penelope remained uncharacteristically quiet until Lark could bear it no longer. “Have you something on your mind, Penelope?”

Penelope blinked. “I s’pose.”

“Would you care to share?”

Penelope didn’t look up. “I don’t wish to gossip, miss.”

Nor did Lark wish to encourage her to do so. And yet, her curiosity always seemed to speak louder than her conscience.

“Is it gossip if it does not leave these four walls?” Lark asked.

Penelope smiled knowingly. “I suppose not, miss. I was only goin’ to say, if you are worried about what Mr. Chumley could do to you…I wouldn’t be worried about it any longer.”

Lark stared. “What do you mean by that?”

“Only, I’ve heard the chatter downstairs, miss.

Talks of allowin’ a single female on the excursion.

It’s unheard of for Mr. Chumley. But apparently, after marryin’ Mrs. Chumley two years back, it’s she who rules the house now.

She heard word of your desire to come and fought for your presence.

” Penelope paused, looking up at Lark with a mischievous smile.

“So if you’re worried abou’ him sendin’ you home, you oughtn’t be, for Mrs. Chumley wouldn’t allow it even if he tried. ”

Lark stared, dumbfounded. Mrs. Chumley was the reason Lark was there? Did the woman know of Lark’s promise to remain unseen and what she had to pay to join? Lark had the sneaking suspicion that Mrs. Chumley was none the wiser.

“You’re certain your source is reliable?” Lark asked. “Forgive me, but Mrs. Chumley hardly seems the forceful type.”

“I know, miss. Mrs. Chumley is quite reserved when it comes to new people and large gatherin’s.

She prefers the company of just a few close friends.

I shan’t tell you who I heard this from, but I know the person to be a reputable sort.

And Mrs. Chumley is quite known at their house for standin’ up to her husband. ”

Interesting. Very interesting.

Mrs. Chumley hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to Lark the entire excursion.

Lark had assumed the woman was merely distracted with Mrs. Shepherd, but did she truly stay away from new faces out of insecurities?

It seemed more than plausible. As did the knowledge that Mrs. Chumley ruled her home above Mr. Chumley.

Truthfully, Lark had wondered—even with her hefty price and promises—how the man had ever been talked into allowing Lark to join. Learning that Mrs. Chumley had been the one to coerce him made perfect sense.

All at once, the cage Lark had locked herself within at the start of the excursion flung open. Courage fortified her wings, and a lightness filled her soul. Did this mean she was free? Could she now act how she wished and speak about birds with her equals without fear of repercussion?

A smile touched her lips, and when she stared at her reflection in the looking glass, she caught sight of the blue gown still laid out on the bed.

Only six days had passed since she’d been in London, dressed up to the nines with Mother night and day. And yet, she couldn’t deny that, while such finery was worthless during bird observations, in the proper setting, they gave her great confidence.

When she was younger, she hadn’t minded wearing fine gowns and jewelry to balls and dinner parties.

But after Mr. Yates’s treatment of her eight years before, she’d discovered that dressing simpler—if not dressing down—provided her with far less attention from other fortune hunting gentlemen.

The very fact that her being an heiress was on parade when she’d met Mr. Drake was simply further proof that when she dressed wealthier, she was treated wealthier.

And that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

In truth, this was the real reason she hesitated to wear finery here. Yes, she’d been nervous to provoke Mr. Chumley’s wrath, but more than anything, she did not wish to go through what she already had with Mr. Yates and Mr. Drake. Not again.

“Even with that knowledge of Mr. Chumley,” Lark said unprompted, as if attempting to convince herself she’d made the right choice, “I still believe the pink gown will be better for this evening.”

Once more Penelope hesitated. She tucked in another pin within Lark’s blonde curls. “Is your reasonin’ the same as before, miss?”

Lark nodded in silence. Penelope had been there through Lark’s courtship of Mr. Yates and was no stranger to Lark’s fears that had surfaced since.

Mr. Yates had told Lark they would be removing her trusted maid from her position as soon as they married—despite Lark’s protests.

A mere week more of courtship, and Penelope would not be with her today.

“Forgive me, miss,” Penelope said softly, “but there isn’t anyone to be fearful of here, is there? They all must have their own fortunes to afford a trip like this.”

Lark sighed, having had the thought already herself. “I suppose you are correct.”

“Most of ’em are married, as well. And happily,” Penelope continued. “Those who are single hardly seem a threat. Mr. Dunn is, well, Mr. Dunn”—they shared a smile—“the Kay brothers seem too focused on the birds, and Mr. Branok isn’t?—”

Her words broke off abruptly, and Lark’s eyes snapped to Penelope, who pressed her lips tightly together.

“Mr. Branok isn’t what?” Lark asked.

Penelope busied herself with more pins in Lark’s curls. “I promised meself I wouldn’t say a word, but I s’pose it can’t hurt if you know.”

Lark’s intrigue grew, all else forgotten but the man’s blue eyes and mischievous whispers.

“On our first night here,” Penelope said in a voice just above a whisper, “Mr. Branok’s valet drank a bit too much in the evenin’ and began to share information with the butler here, who was also drinkin’.

They were both speakin’ so loudly, I couldn’t help but hear it, layin’ in me bed.

I don’t think even the valet’s aware of what he was sharin’.

At any rate, I heard that Mr. Branok,” she lowered to a whisper, “has sworn to never marry.”

Lark’s spirits fell. There was nothing so disappointing as being promised gossip, only to be delivered news one had already learned. But then, if Penelope knew this , perhaps she knew more.

“Did he give a reason for why he would not marry?”

A small smile slipped around Penelope’s lips.

“Apparently, he had an unfortunate experience with a woman a few years ago. They spent weeks gettin’ to know one another.

Flirtin’ and dancin’ and makin’ eyes, that sort o’ thing.

She fully expected a proposal from him, but apparently, he didn’t love the woman, so he left on another one of his excursions, hopin’ that his absence would end her admiration. ”

Lark leaned forward in her seat. “Did it?”

“Fortunately for him. When he returned some six months later, the woman had already married another—somehow, with her reputation still intact.”

“What a relief that must have been for her.” Lark looked away. “Was he upset at all with her marriage?”

“No, the woman never approved of his excursions anyway, so the valet said Mr. Branok was relieved.”

“Truly?”

Penelope nodded, removing a pin she held in her mouth before continuing. “Apparently, Mr. Branok’s benefactor won’t fund his excursions should Mr. Branok ever marry. Though I don’t know why.”

Lark mulled over the information. So that was why he wouldn’t marry, because he’d no longer be carted from expedition to expedition.

That made sense, of course, but what didn’t was the fact that Mr. Branok would lead a woman to marriage only to drop her days later. Was he truly capable of such unkindness? He’d always been respectful toward her—if a little unruly.

But then, perhaps his flirting was the guise he put up in the beginning to simply receive what he wanted.

A sliver of disappointment settled near the back of her stomach. Was he truly just using her? Were they not friends, then?

“All that is to say,” Penelope finished, “you needn’t worry about Mr. Branok pursuin’ you either.

He’s clearly unwillin’ to give up anythin’ for his excursions—even the reputation of a woman.

And if his only threat is makin’ a woman fall for him, with your decision to never marry, you have nothin’ to fear. ”

Penelope was absolutely correct. Lark truly had nothing to fear now.

She ignored the disappointment she’d felt before and squared her shoulders.

So, the man enjoyed the chase, did he? The chase with no finish line, apparently.

If that was what he was doing with Lark—flirting with her, attempting to make her fall in love with him, only for him to jaunt off to another excursion—he had better think again.

Her eyes flicked to the dresses once more. “On second thought, Penelope, I think I should like to wear the blue gown after all.”