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Ophelia breathed out a sigh, her eyes fairly stroking the blue silk parasols through the glass. “There be no equal to their beautiness.”

August’s lips twitched. Beautiness. That was a new one. He’d thought after reaching the age of twenty, his sister might have learned the correct usage of words—or rather the correct words at all—but he could see now she had not changed in that regard.

Funnily enough, he took comfort in the knowledge. In seemingly every other way, Ophelia and Portia had grown beyond the young girls they had been, into the charming women they were today. He was glad to have been with them until they were nearly sixteen, but knowing he’d missed five years of his family’s growing up stung. That was five years he would never get back.

He’d written frequent letters and had visited for holidays and other social events, but that was only two or three times a year. He was only grateful he’d taken the time to forge relationships with his sisters and parents before he’d left. Fortunately, that had provided a strong enough foundation for their friendships to remain the same.

Shaking the heaviness of the past off his shoulders, August peered beyond the thick shrubs to where the causeway curved across the land to meet with the Mount. At the sight, everything settled. His concerns, his regrets, all of them faded away as he peered at his home.

Yes, he’d missed much. But he was back, and there he would remain. With his new work as undergardener for the castle—a job he’d prayed to open for years—he would never leave again.

“I would choose the white ones,” Portia said as August emerged from his thoughts. “They be so elegant.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Ophelia carried on. “Imagine ’ow they’d look on ye at a ball. Portia, we must convince Mother to purchase ’em.”

A rustling occurred in the bushes beside him. August turned, peering at the nearly shoulder-height brambles. Just as soon as he did, however, the branches grew still.

Must have been a stray cat.

“Are ye not goin’ to choose your own favorite gloves, August?”

August pulled his attention from the shrubbery as Emma stepped away from the others and stood beside him.

“Apparently,” she continued in hushed tones, “it be of utmost importance.”

August smiled. He had missed his friend these last few years. As a thirteen-year-old, he’d fancied himself attached to her, but he had swiftly realized they were better suited as friends. Fortunately so, or her request for help upon his return to the Mount would have come as quite a blow otherwise. To Nicholas, as well.

August glanced ahead to his friend. For the first time that morning, Nicholas was not staring at Emma. That would only prove to help all parties involved. August had advised Nicholas to not join them that afternoon, what with Emma being brought along by Ophelia and Portia. If their families knew they were together…

But Nicholas had insisted that he join them.

“No one on the mainland knows Emma or meself,” he’d said. “We’ll be perfectly fine, especially with ye there as a diversion.”

Only time would tell if Nicholas had been too optimistic.

A movement in the corner of August’s eye drew his attention once more to the bushes, and he frowned. That must be a ridiculously large cat to have swayed the shrubs that much.

“What be the matter?” Emma asked, following his gaze to the bushes.

“I thought I ’eard somethin’.” He turned to face the shrubbery more directly, ducking his head lower to peer deeper into the nearly impenetrable branches. “No doubt an animal o’ some sort.”

A flash of white caught his eye—a tail, perhaps?—but it was gone in an instant.

“It might only be a bird,” Emma offered.

But August shook his head. Too much movement to be a bird.

He peered deeper into the darkness, the branches so thick, no light from the bright sun could penetrate the shadows.

That is, until the bushes twitched again, and two eyes peered right back at him.

August flinched in surprise, rearing slightly back.

“’Eavens, what be it?” Emma breathed out.

“I…” He frowned. “I believe it be a person.”

The eyes disappeared, but there was no hiding from him any longer as the distinct outline of a head and shoulders appeared in the darkness.