Page 34

Mr. Branok seemed to relax more, resting his elbows on both sides of his chair, causing his shoulders to lift as he laced his fingers together before him.

“I am more than happy to explain then. You see, many years ago, my father belonged to White’s.

He spoke so highly of the club, I had a mind to join after his death.

However, when a friend of mine was denied membership due to his reduced circumstances, I realized how shallow most of the members were and promptly severed any desire to join.

Lord Blackstone discovered what had occurred and invited me to join his club, instead. It is as simple as that.”

But Lark was not quite satisfied. “I have heard Lord Blackstone’s club is filled with…”

“Misfits?” Mr. Branok finished. “Those who do not fit into Society’s standards? That is precisely what we are.”

She paused. “Forgive me, but I struggle to see how you fit into that category. Indeed, I would fit within such a club better than you.”

He chuckled. “It takes more than being an outsider, I’m afraid.” He glanced at the doorway, then back at her. “Lord Blackstone only permits men to join who have been blackballed from other clubs.”

Her brows pulled together. “Blackballed?”

“When someone is denied membership in a club,” he explained, “for one reason or another.”

Her mind raced. “So you were blackballed yourself?”

“I was.”

He gave nothing more, so she did not press him. It really was none of her concern. At any rate, if his friend has been denied due to social status, then whatever Mr. Branok had done could not be so very bad either.

“This is why I tend to keep my membership of the club quiet,” he said. “Many men look down on Blackstone’s due to its beginnings, and while I try not to trouble myself over other’s opinions, I find most of Society is far more agreeable when they are in the dark about certain matters.”

Lark raised a shoulder. “Or they become more dangerous.”

His eyes met hers. She knew he wished to ask her to clarify, but all he responded with was, “Just so.”

She looked away, fearing he might read her very thoughts, and it seemed to break the spell between them.

“What was it about Blackstone’s that made you wish to join that club, as opposed to all the others?” she asked next.

“In truth, I didn’t wish to in the beginning,” he replied. “But Lord Blackstone approached me and convinced me to join with the promise of funding my expeditions.”

“It certainly isn’t a terrible trade.”

“No, indeed. I owe him a great deal.” His eyes took on a far-off look. “There are times when I wish I wasn’t a part of the club. But were it not for Lord Blackstone and his funding, I would not be where I am today.”

Dread crept up behind Lark like a dark cloud. He’d mentioned this before—how expensive excursions were—and she had done her best to tamp down her fears. But now, she had to ask. She had to know if her dreams of exploring the world were even a possibility.

“Is that true?” she began. “Surely you could have accomplished the traveling and publishing on your own.”

Such an idea wasn’t too far-fetched. The man was wealthy enough—he’d mentioned having his own estate before and certainly looked the part.

But Mr. Branok shook his head resolutely.

“No, I would not have published a single volume of work without his endorsement. Field journals do not generate much of a return, and even though they sell now more than ever, it is due to Lord Blackstone’s agreement with the publishers and printers.

He gives generous donations, and they continue printing my volumes of work. ”

Lark’s heart thudded painfully against her chest. “And the excursions?”

He leaned back in his seat with a sigh. “They would be even more impossible to continue without Lord Blackstone. I attempted to embark on a voyage on my own once. I’m sure you can guess where.”

She pressed down her swirling stomach to answer. “India?”

He smiled. “India. My parents longed to see the country—its culture, wildlife, mountain ranges, and deserts—so when they passed, I adopted the dream myself.

To be able to see what they longed to see…

I could only imagine how wonderful it would be.

However. I was woefully unprepared to accomplish all that is required.

For officially sanctioned excursions—which is what is necessary to see more than a handful of birds—not only is the cost incredible to begin with, but it increases exponentially with each new day spent away from England.

One must also take into account the proper permissions to travel from the Crown itself, as well as the countries one is visiting.

A ship must be procured and an able-bodied crew.

“There is also the matter of supplies, different money for each country, food to eat, and accommodations for all involved. One must also acquire a knowledgeable and dependable guide so time is not wasted exploring areas with no birds. There is also the risk of contracting potential diseases, so one must know how to handle sequestering.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“The list goes on and on. Fortunately, Lord Blackstone has endless wealth and unbelievable connections in seemingly every part of the world. Without them. I wouldn’t have a hope of seeing what I have.

Nor would I have any chance of one day exploring India. ”

He finally stopped, peering over at Lark. “So there you have it. All the reasons for why I keep quiet about my membership to Blackstone’s—and why I must remain a part of it. Despite my disapproval of Lord Blackstone’s collection .”

He grimaced, and Lark forced a smile, though she felt her world caving in around her.

Were her dreams truly for naught? She had wealth enough for an excursion or two, she was absolutely certain.

She didn’t need to go on hundreds of them.

But if Mr. Branok, famed and well-known as he was, had to rely on this benefactor, how would Lark ever be able to accomplish on her own all that he’d laid out?

And how would she ever find someone to help her and be willing to invest his time in a single female who had only been on one excursion in her life?

“Have I upset you?” Mr. Branok asked. “Do you disapprove of me remaining in such an odious club?”

“No,” she said truthfully.

She could not blame him for missing the real reason she was upset—she’d always told him she was happy with simply exploring England.

She also couldn’t blame him for swallowing his pride to fulfill his dreams. Not when her own dreams were being ignited by a flame of disappointments.

She would do anything to see them realized.

But then, what if there was nothing to be done?

“Are you certain?” Mr. Branok pressed, his brow pursed with concern after her silence.

Lark forced her mind to remain in the present. She didn’t know what the future held. But she did know, in this moment, she was on an excursion now —with Mr. Branok, no less—and for the time being, that would be enough.

“Yes,” she replied, her smile more sincere this time. “I care not what club a man belongs to, nor what he did to become rejected by others. One’s actions speak louder than another’s words anyway.”

His eyes softened as he watched her. “Once again, wise words from Miss Fernside.” His smile faltered. “But unfortunately, many men, even good men, cannot look beyond this sort of thing.”

His eyes delved into hers, and Lark knew he spoke of Uncle Francis.

His reaction to Blackstone’s three days prior had been obvious.

But she wasn’t concerned. She would simply tell Uncle he needn’t worry over Mr. Branok belonging to such a club.

After all, how terrible could Blackstone’s be if they welcomed individuals who did not belong elsewhere?

“My Uncle is of a sound mind and heart,” she said softly. “He is protective of me, as any guardian ought to be. But he knows a good man when he sees one, I assure you.”

Mr. Branok’s eyes still searched hers warily, but he nodded all the same before clearing his throat and blinking away the last of their serious conversation.

“Well,” he said, patting his hands against his thighs, “I believe it is your turn to speak now.”

Lark’s stomach flopped over itself with nerves. He was right. It was her turn.

“Yes,” she finally responded. “I have read your books before.”

His smile filled her soul with as much warmth as the sun.

“How many of them?” he asked.

She closed her eyes. “All of them. Except your latest, of course. And…” She paused, pressing her hands against the books on her laps. “And these are my own personal copies.”

“I assumed as much. They look a little worn.” His voice held a smile to it. “Just how many times have you read each of them?”

Her cheeks warmed. “I cannot be sure.”

“How about you give me an estimation, then.”

She opened one eye, peeking at him through the crack between her lashes. He was positively beaming. “More than…six or seven times each. If not more.”

His brow raised. “Truly?”

She opened both eyes and faced him more directly. “Do you believe I would ever admit to such if it were not true?”

He didn’t respond, staring at the pile of books in her lap as if attempting to calculate her response.

“Back on our first day in the carriage,” he began, “you mentioned books that took you on figurative trips around the world. That they provided you with being able to see more than you ever would have dreamed.” He caught her eye again. “You were referring to my own books?”

She swallowed the last of her pride that remained and nodded. “Yes, I was specifically referring to yours. I know nothing of the world beyond your books.”

He didn’t say anything, his eyes searching hers in silence.

“What is it?” she asked. “Attempting to decide how best to tease me?”