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Unexpectedly, tears pricked at her eyes at his tender words. “I be always grateful for ye doin’ the same, as well,” she said, clearing the emotion from her throat.

She stared up at him again, water dripping from a strand of hair that had fallen over his brow. Would that she could brush it from his forehead, run her fingers through those luscious locks and—

A couple walked past them, pulling Livvy from her thoughts. The Dunstones greeted August, then settled their gazes on Livvy, but she looked away and closed her eyes for a moment, gaining her wits once again.

What was she doing? Falling into the same trap as before, becoming lost in his warm, brown eyes, and sinking back into her feelings of love and kinship with the man who was wholly unavailable?

She still couldn’t begin to understand why he felt comfortable speaking with her now in front of all of those people. Perhaps that was because Miss Pengelly was nowhere in sight? Where was she? And why was she not with her intended on such a fine sunny Saturday?

At any rate, it was none of her business. And she had a book to get back to.

“Well, I-I must be gettin’ back ’ome, I think,” she said, taking a step back from him and averting her eyes from his still-clinging shirt.

“It was lovely to see ye again, Miss May,” he said.

“And ye, sir,” she said. “I…I do ’ope ye can get dry soon.”

Then she spun on her heel and walked swiftly away, nearly running into two people as she scurried across the pathway.

When she reached her home, she slipped inside without a sound, fighting the urge to look back until she closed the door. From there, she could see August making his way back to the other fishermen. His shirt still clung to his body, revealing a lovely V down the center of his upper back.

Swiftly, however, she closed her eyes again and shut the door tightly behind her, telling herself she would go up to her room and read her book instead of looking out the window, where she would have yet another perfect view of the man she loved, and the very man she shouldn’t.

Because she had too much respect for herself, for Miss Pengelly, and for August to continue this obsession any longer.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Time will explain.”

Persuasion, Jane Austen

August ran his hand down his face again, dispelling the remaining moisture that clung to his eyebrows as he gathered the clothing he’d shed and made his way back to Nicholas, though his thoughts lingered solely on the woman with whom he’d just spoken.

He didn’t like to make anyone uncomfortable—in fact, he prided himself on helping people feel the very opposite around him. But seeing Miss May continually shift her gaze back to his transparent shirt had been more than pleasing, it had been flattering.

“Ye be a bit wet, August,” Nicholas said as August reached him back on the top of the harbor wall.

August smiled at his friend’s joke. “I suppose I ought to return ’ome for dry clothes. It be gettin’ a bit uncomfortable in certain places.”

“Or ye could be a man and let the sun warm ye up instead.”

Again, August smiled. Nicholas was the gentle giant of the Mount. He was nearly half a foot taller than August and almost double the width around. While he appeared intimidating to folks who didn’t know him, Nicholas was shy, soft-spoken, and kind.

It had certainly been a shock to discover that he and Emma had fallen in love. August had still been unable to unearth how Nicholas had been able to find the courage to speak with Emma when he had a difficult time speaking with anyone—aside from August, of course. With August, Nicholas was fully himself, free to tease, playfully mock, and complain all he wished.

Fortunately, August was able to do the same.

“Ye be one to talk, Nicholas,” August returned, peeling the wet shirt from his person in an effort to dry faster. “I didn’t see ye jumpin’ out there to rescue a shoe.”

“I’d ne’er be so reckless.”

“Reckless or gallant?” Miss May’s word echoed in his mind. Had she really thought him gallant?

In truth, it had been watching Miss May’s concern over that little girl that had spurred August on to help. He’d noticed Miss May smiling to herself, and while he thought it had been due to what book she’d been reading, he quickly saw her attention focused on the little girl who had been dancing and singing to herself.

August had watched her with amusement, then saw the shoe fly into the water. He was making his way down to help, but when Miss May stood, August moved faster. But, why? To help the girl? Or to impress Miss May?

“I suppose ye were actin’ gallantly,” Nicholas conceded.