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Ophelia hardly looked convinced. “We were surprised ye could tear yourself away from your books long enough.”

“Yes, quite surprised,” Portia added.

Livvy only nodded. She felt herself sealing closed, like the barrels of pressed pilchards at the side of the Mount. This always happened when people tried to pry her open.

“Yes,” Ophelia mused. “’Ow coincidental that ye decided to come the very week our brother ’as returned.”

Livvy’s mouth dried. Perhaps she hadn’t been as vague as she’d hoped. Before she could think of anything to say to defend herself—which would have ultimately ended in a lie—Ophelia continued.

“Do tell us what ye’ve been doin’ lately,” she said. “We ’aven’t seen ye in quite some time. Truly, we’ve all wondered what could’ve ’appened to make ye stay away for so long.”

Her words were left hanging heavily open, which only proved to seal Livvy’s lips instead. This was why people thought her odd and rude and rigid—because she would not divulge the most private happenings she held in her heart.

The girls waited, but Livvy refused to abide. “Nothin’ happened,” Livvy responded. “Aside from learnin’ that I prefer the company o’ fictional people to real ones.”

Ophelia’s eyes narrowed, but Livvy was finished. Dinner party be hanged. Her reputation be hanged. There was no possible way August would see the true Livvy when his sisters—indeed, even her own father—could not see past her foibles.

She shifted to stand, ready to leave for good when footsteps sounded behind her. The footman left just as the men joined them, and Mrs. Moon returned to her seat, followed closely by the others.

Livvy gritted her teeth. Perfect. Now she had to stay. Before, she would have only been embarrassing herself by leaving. Now, she would be humiliating her father. Again. She couldn’t do it, not after all he’d done for her.

He’d stayed with her. Mother couldn’t have said the same.

“Papa, thank goodness,” Ophelia said, moving to stand beside him and kiss him on the cheek. “We were in want of your intellectual conversation, as it ’as become so very drab without ye.”

No one seemed to catch the slight but Father, who looked at Livvy with a condemning expression, as if to say, “What ’ave ye done, Lavinia?”

She longed to scoff. Of course he would blame her. She looked away, frankly done with this whole affair.

“Oh, I doubt your conversation could be very dull with Miss May ’ere.”

Livvy glanced up at August, his charming smile directed at her from where he stood near the hearth.

Hmm. Well perhaps she could stay for a minute or more.

For Father.

The next half hour or so, the conversation shifted to August and his time at the estate in Coniston, where he’d served as head gardener. Livvy did her best not to seem too interested, though she clung to his every word as if they expelled the very air she needed to breathe.

“We be quite proud of our son,” his father said, “bein’ so young as head gardener for such an estate.”

“’Tain’t un’eard of, havin’ a gentleman hire someone as young as I,” August defended, as if he didn’t deserve the praise.

“’Ow did ye get the position?” Father asked next.

August glanced to Livvy as he replied. “Mr. Eastwood, the gentleman o’ the estate, ’eard o’ me through me apprenticeship in Bath. ’E wished to change up the rigid gardens of ’is grandfather’s estate to ’ave more life in it, so I agreed to do the best that I could. I’ll always be grateful for what I learned there.”

As he continued, Livvy was enraptured.

His anecdotes were simply delightful. His facial expressions, a pleasure to observe. And the deep, lulling quality to his voice mesmerized her from start to finish.

She’d heard the man talk before, but only ever from afar when she happened to overhear him…Very well, she had been eavesdropping, plain and simple. But now, having the opportunity to listen to him without the fear of being caught staring, she was certain this was what being in Heaven felt like.

That is, until Ophelia slipped in and began an in-depth description as to a person’s choice of buttons and why choosing them was integral to an individual’s sanity.

Before long, Livvy’s lack of attention must have been revealed on her face, as Mrs. Moon leaned forward to face her more directly.

“My dear,” she said softly as Ophelia and Portia continued their talk of buttons, “I was goin’ to say this ’fore, but with the issue the footman brought to me about the tea and…” She shook her head, beginning again. “At any rate, would ye care to explore me new collection o’ books? You’re welcome to bring a few ’ome with ye for when ye finish what ye be readin’ now.”