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T here could be only one thing that would stop Henry from kissing Lark Fernside, and it wasn’t a bird.

It was Miss Fernside hearing a bird.

Had it been up to him, he would have ignored the sound of the nightjar altogether, kissed the woman until they were both senseless, then maybe, if there was time, gone to see if the bird was still there.

But he knew how excited she would be at the sighting, so he’d stopped before they’d even begun.

Sure enough, her eyes brightened, and her grin grew as she stared in the direction of the sound.

He dropped his hands as she did the same, and together, they slowly followed the chittering through the trees. The noise grew as they drew nearer and nearer until finally, it was so close, Henry knew they could spot it, so long as they positioned themselves in the right location.

As Miss Fernside searched the trees, however, Henry had a difficult time focusing on anything aside from the memory of her body pressed against his. The way she’d cried when she’d heard of him defending her. The way she’d listened to his side of the rumors again—believed his words again .

Her goodness knew no bounds.

“I can’t find it,” Miss Fernside whispered in the darkness.

Henry once more pulled back to the present. He needed to focus. He needed to find this bird. Not for himself, but for her.

He leaned down, shifting back and forth to see the silhouette of the trees against the moon above. He’d learned how to find night herons this way in the West Indies, and he could only pray it would work the same for the nightjar.

A few minutes later, he spotted it. The bark-like feathers were impossible to see in the darkness, only a black silhouette visible with the lack of light, but he was certain it was the bird they sought.

With a stuttering heart, he tugged at Miss Fernside’s arm until she leaned closer to him.

“There,” he whispered in her ear.

She peered down, looking back and forth with a shake of her head. “I can’t see…”

Knowing he was simply allowing himself to drown faster, Henry wrapped his right arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him until their faces touched.

There, he pointed with his left finger where the silhouette of the bird stood out against the dim light, perched at the very edge of a leafless branch.

He knew she’d seen it when she breathed out a sigh. She’d done the same when she’d found the redstart and the kingfisher. Would her eyes be sparkling as they’d done with every other bird?

He forced his attention to remain on the nightjar still chittering away, the bird’s chest puffing out with each call. But before long, Henry was once more drawn to the woman beside him.

Removing his arm from around her shoulders and straightening his stance, he took a moment to observe her. Sure enough, her eyes sparkled, and he couldn’t look away.

For years, he’d told himself that there would never be a female he loved more than his love for observing birds.

But now he’d been proven wrong. Absolutely wrong.

He was left with two choices. He needed to either give up his love for Miss Fernside and continue with his expeditions, or he needed to marry her and give up all he’d built for the last half-decade.

Such a decision should have been painful. Impossible, even.

But as he caressed her features with his eyes, watched as another tear trail downed her skin, Mr. Shepherd’s words echoed in his mind.

“What would be the purpose in partaking in an activity like this if I cannot share it with the one I love?”

Henry had always loved bird observing. But never more than this last excursion.

Instead of the standard joy he felt when finding a new bird, Miss Fernside’s joy doubled his own.

The same went for his excitement over each bird pursuit, each conversation, each rescue, and each new sighting.

He felt all the same emotions, but they were multiplied to the point where he could hardly bear it.

Mr. Shepherd had been absolutely correct.

Why in Heaven’s name would Henry ever choose to give up a life with Lark Fernside when it would be exponentially better than anything he’d ever experienced alone?

He wouldn’t give it up. It was as simple as that.

But would Miss Fernside wish to do the same?

She must have felt his gaze on her, for in the next moment, she met his eyes. The very air between them pulled them closer, and Henry faced her more directly. When she did the same and her eyes dropped to his lips, a pleasant, nervous energy surged within him.

He took a step toward her, wanting to feel her kiss on his lips again, wanting to feel her in his arms forevermore, and more than anything, wanting to know what it felt like to kiss the woman he now knew he loved.

Before, he’d taken their kiss in steps, needing her approval, needing to test the waters of her affection. But now, the desire in her eyes was clear. Now, hesitance for what the kiss might do vanished.

For he was ready to give up anything and everything to be with Lark Fernside. He wouldn’t stay back a moment longer.

Lark saw the switch in Mr. Branok’s expression. Something warm had held his features before—a kindling of desire, but now fire flashed in his eyes.

In an instant, he closed the distance between them. His right hand slid round her waist, settling at the small of her back as he pulled her toward him. His left fingers slipped through her hair, cradling her head in his palm. Then his lips were on hers.

Lark only took a second to respond. Her arms wrapped around him, his firm back beneath her fingertips as she tipped her head to the side, kissing him with as much fervor as he kissed her.

Their mouths pressed against each other, working in unison, both of them expressing their desire to continue the affection for as long as possible.

Lark’s heart had never beaten so powerfully, so wildly.

But then, that was because she had never felt such love before—for Mr. Branok and from Mr. Branok.

Seeing the nightjar had been a dream come true. But sharing this moment with him was heavenly.

At the thought of him truly loving her, an overwhelming sensation of joy and peace rushed over her.

How was she so fortunate as to have won his affection?

She’d never known such a love could exist. It furnished her desire to be closer to him, to remove any remaining distance between their souls, just so she might connect even deeper than before.

She moved her hands from around his waist to slide up his chest before wrapping around his neck, bringing her as close as possible to him.

He sighed in response, securing both arms around her, splaying his fingers across her as he felt every inch of her side and back, though he never strayed from propriety—for that was just the sort of gentleman he was.

For a moment, he broke off from their kiss, allowing her to catch her breath as he trailed his lips around her cheek and brow before capturing her mouth once more.

Lark couldn’t help but compare this kiss to the one before. Where once he’d been reserved, now he commanded attention. Lark was more than happy to surrender, if only because she trusted this man with her whole heart. She loved him with her whole heart.

Tonight had been perfect. Her time with him had been flawless. Old wounds had been laid to rest. Bridges had been mended. Hearts had been sealed together. And now, she and Mr. Branok would be able to…

To what? Have a future together?

The question slipped past her euphoria, shooting thorns of doubt onto the flowers of their affections, and her mood plummeted.

They had no future together.

Mr. Branok pulled back slowly, clearly sensing her shift just like before. He stared down at her, his eyes alight as he took her hands in his.

She couldn’t allow this to continue.

“Mr. Branok…” she began.

“We are far beyond that now,” he said, his voice husky. “Henry.”

The ache in her heart caused her to wince. “I…I don’t think?—”

“Marry me.”

Lark stared, stunned. “What?” she breathed.

“Marry me,” he stated more firmly, his eyes caressing every inch of her features.

“I know what you said before, that you don’t wish to wed, that you don’t want your life dictated by another.

But I swear right now if you’ll be my wife, you will want for nothing, and that includes freedom.

Freedom to explore whatever part of the world you wish to.

Freedom to remain home should you wish it.

Freedom to command me to remain at home.

Anything you desire, it shall be yours. Even, and especially, my love for you. ”

Tears sprung to her eyes. This was everything she’d ever wanted.

A gentleman to love her, to provide for her, to be her everything.

For she was willing to be the same for him.

She would have gladly given up her decision to remain single.

She would have gladly remained at home to wait for his return from his exhibitions.

But then, that was just it. If he married her, there would be no more exhibitions.

There would be no more published books. There would be no more fulfillment of his dreams to travel to India.

She could use her fortune to get him there, but then what?

They had no connections, no permissions, and no knowledge of how it all worked.

He’d said it himself weeks before. If he married, he would be forced to give up everything.

Lark knew what it was like to give up a part of herself for someone. That was why she could not have Mr. Branok do the same.

At the realization of what she was about to do, fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she forced out with a broken whisper. “But I cannot marry you.”

She tried to pull her hands from his, but he held steadfast, his eyes steady. “Because of your promise to remain unwed?”

“No. Because of another promise I made long ago. That I would never ask anyone to give up who they are for me.”

“Traveling for excursions is not all of who I am,” he said at once.

“But it makes up such a large part of who you are. I could never take that away from you.”

“You wouldn’t have to,” he said firmly. “I would be giving it up on my own.”

But she shook her head. “You can’t. I would never forgive myself. I would always feel as if some part of you regretted leaving the opportunities you have now, and we…we could never be happy because of it.”

The words were like daggers to her own heart. She could only pray they wouldn’t be to his . And yet, she needed to be truthful. She needed reality to settle between them to make things easier when he left for India to fulfill more of his dreams and she never saw him again.

The silence between them stifled the air, and only then did she realize the absence of the nightjar’s chittering.

“Forgive me, Mr. Branok,” she said with finality, pulling her hands from his as she stepped away from him. “I can’t go through with it.”

“Do you love me, Lark?”

Her name on his lips, the question on his voice, made her pause. He stared at her with patience, but she couldn’t answer, for if she spoke at all, she would speak the truth.

Instead, she turned around and fled through the trees, ignoring his calling out for her, ignoring the pain he must have felt, and praying Heaven guided her steps through the darkness—as well as through the rest of her life as she now tried to figure out how exactly she was going to live without Henry Branok by her side.