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But it was a love that could never be.

Tears sprang to her eyes, sliding down her cheeks, but she didn’t brush them aside, afraid any movement would end their affection.

A few moments later, however, August pulled back, looking across her features with a worried expression. Had he felt her tears? Or had he sensed them?

She allowed her arms to loosen around his neck, resting them lightly atop his shoulders as he moved his hands to her sides.

“More tears?” he whispered.

She nodded. It was time. Time to depart. Time to say goodbye to the love of her life forever.

“I must go,” she whispered.

His brow furrowed. “Yes, I’ve kept ye up too late.”

Had he truly not understood her meaning? Or was he simply denying the fact that she would still be leaving?

“Allow me to see ye back?” he asked.

But she shook her head. “I can’t risk Father seein’ ye.” As if that could ever be her true answer. The fact of the matter was, if she spent a moment more with this man, she would change her mind forever.

As such, she backed away. “Thank ye, August.”

“For what?” he asked, his face barely visible in the darkness as she increased the distance between them.

Cold overcame her senses, and she shivered. “For lovin’ me as I be.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, but when he did, his voice was filled with emotion. “We’ll figure this out, Livvy. Together. We’ll be ’appy. Ye wait and see.”

How Livvy wished to believe him.

“I’ll send ye a message soon,” he said. “And…and per’aps I can see ye tomorrow.”

Livvy didn’t respond. She turned on her heel and left August to himself on the cliffside, releasing silent cries as she did so.

For there would be no tomorrow. At least, not for them.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

“I know not my own heart if it be not absolutely free.”

Clarissa, or, the History of a Young Lady, Samuel Richardson

Livvy closed the door to her home in silence, forcing herself not to look back at the outer blue walls that had always brought her such great joy.

She wasn’t certain if she’d ever see them again. At least not in the years to come. For she would not come back to St. Michael’s Mount unless there was no chance she would see August.

She couldn’t bear it.

“Ye be certain ye packed everythin’ ye need?” Father asked, raising the small portmanteau he carried for Livvy, his own bag in his opposite hand.

Both of them were headed across the causeway to Marazion early that morning, where they’d catch the coach to Nanstallon. Father had brought just enough in his bag to carry him through the journey, as he’d depart the moment she was safely delivered.

“Yes, Father,” she said. “I ’ave everythin’ I need.”

She didn’t have much to begin with, and there was very little she needed.

“Say your goodbyes, then,” he said. “I’ll wait for ye by the causeway.”