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However, after bidding farewell to the others—everyone aside from Miss Fernside and her aunt—Henry returned to his room on the upper floor of Blackstone’s.

There, he opened a letter from the viscount himself—written on pink stationary, of course—that reminded him once again why he would forever remain unmarried.

Mr. Branok,

Welcome back. I look forward to hearing about your travels, however I admit I have news myself.

Do come at your earliest convenience this afternoon to the card room. I have something to share with you that I believe will be met with great interest.

Lord Blackstone

With excitement he tried to convince himself was stronger than ever before, Henry made his way to the card room on the ground floor, finding Lord Blackstone seated at the foremost table with a group of gentlemen.

“Mr. Branok!” Lord Blackstone called out, waving him toward the table.

Henry made his way across the green-blue carpet, passing gentlemen with their fine clothing, top hats, and canes before reaching the viscount and taking the final seat around the green fabric of the table.

He greeted the others, sharing information about his trip around England as they asked for details before he faced Lord Blackstone.

“I believe you have news for me, my lord.”

Lord Blackstone did his best to hide his smile, though his eyes shone with delight. “Yes, indeed. I have brought you here to ask if you’d like to take part in another excursion. This time…” He paused for dramatic effect, “to India.”

Henry felt…To be honest, he did not know what he felt. He knew he should have been excited. Ecstatic. He’d been longing to go to India for years—for himself and for his parents. But something was preventing him from feeling the joy he’d expected.

Something…or someone .

“He’s clearly in shock,” Lord Blackstone joked with the other men. “That is why he does not speak.”

“Or he is merely tired from his travels,” one gentleman guessed.

Henry attempted to clear his thoughts. “I am equally both.”

“Not excited, then?” Lord Blackstone asked.

Pull yourself together, Henry.

He cleared his throat, smiling. Honestly, this was excellent news. Leaving England, focusing on finding other birds—it would be just the thing he needed to forget about Miss Fernside altogether.

“On the contrary. I am thrilled,” he responded. “I cannot wait to leave. When is the departure date?”

“There he is,” Lord Blackstone said with a chuckle to the others. He faced Henry again. “The ship will set sail the first week of June. I had to pull quite a few strings to make this happen, but we must jump on this opportunity. It took…”

Henry’s heart fell, and Lord Blackstone’s words faded away. The first week of June. That was a week before Cornwall wrapped up. That meant he would miss seven days of the excursion. And seven days of Miss Fernside’s presence.

Such knowledge should have excited him further. After all, why should he care about leaving her? They had been friends, nothing more, and he’d been leaving behind good friends for years.

And yet, the twisting pain within, the emptiness that filled his heart at the knowledge of no longer seeing Miss Fernside, was nearly unbearable.

“Of course,” Lord Blackstone continued, “this means you will have to cut short your trip now, but that won’t be a problem, will it?”

Henry stared. Yes, it would be a problem, but not because of what the viscount thought.

This was what Henry had been trying to prevent all along. This was why he’d never wanted to marry. Because he wanted to travel without regret, without leaving anyone behind. He wanted to join these excursions because there was no reason not to.

The noise around the cardroom pressed down on him, the heat from too many bodies and shining candles causing beads of sweat to slide down his back.

Leaving on excursions was far easier knowing his parents were gone and he had no other immediate family members living.

Leaving behind Miss Fernside would make him long for home—long for her presence, effectively causing the excursion to be one filled with pain, regret, and loneliness, even more than he already experienced.

But he should not be feeling any of this.

Miss Fernside had, in an essence, rejected him.

Chosen her uncle over himself. So how had she captured him so fully that he was already regretting the time he wouldn’t get to spend with her?

How had he allowed himself to be so wrapped up in the mere memory of her affection that he’d even considered beginning a deeper relationship with her?

He wouldn’t stand for it.

“I see no problem at all,” Henry stated calmly, ignoring the way his voice echoed mutely in his own thoughts. “I will simply tell the host I’ve no other option but to leave early.”

Mr. Chumley would have no problem with that. Henry would be finished with his teaching by that point, anyway, and the others would be allowed to venture forth on their own to put into practice all they had learned.

And Miss Fernside would…Well, she would do whatever she wished to do, and whatever that was, it wasn’t Henry’s concern.

“Excellent,” Lord Blackstone said, beaming.

He carried on about plans for the expedition, and Henry did his best to listen and show his excitement, despite the trepidation unsettling his happiness.

Leaving Miss Fernside would be painful. He was man enough to admit it. So departing from Cornwall early was for the best—for both of them.

This way, she could remain single and free to live her own life. Henry could do the same. And both of them would be happy in their decisions.

At least on his part, he hoped that would be the case. For as of right now, all he could think of was how departing from Miss Fernside was not the answer to his happiness.

The last few weeks had made that clear enough.