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She laughed, though she wasn’t sure she should be as flattered by his words as she was. “I see ye’ve learned your lesson, then.”

“Indeed. Don’t try to teach Miss Livvy May a lesson.”

She grinned. “Or per’aps it ought to be, Miss Livvy May doesn’t take kindly to liars.”

His smile faltered. Had she taken her teasing too far?

Before she could explain that she truly didn’t think August was a liar, he looked away.

“Perhaps I can me behavior up to ye,” he offered softly.

Livvy grimaced. “I was only teasin’, August.”

“I know. But I’d still like to make amends.”

“Very well,” she said, shifting her footing uncomfortably. He didn’t need to make amends for anything. He’d always behaved like a perfect gentleman to Livvy, so why had he taken her words so harshly? “’Ow will ye do so?”

He motioned to her reticule, where the sea pinks stood out against the blue silk. “By reassurin’ ye that despite the obvious clue of your reticule, sea pinks would have been one of me first guesses to be your favorite flower.”

She didn’t doubt him for a moment. “Why be that, then?”

He stared at the reticule. “’Cause sea pinks be special, see. And only the most special o’ women choose ’em to be their favorite flowers.”

Her heart thrummed against her chest. She still couldn’t understand the man and his swift changes in his emotions toward her, but in that moment, she found herself unable to dwell on anything apart from the softness with which he gazed upon her.

“Do ye know much about the flower?” he asked, his voice barely above the sound of the rain’s consistent tapping around them.

She shook her head. Father had always been more of a technical gardener than anything, knowing everything about how to care for nearly every plant that grew in Cornwall.

Livvy had always done her best to listen to his instruction, but she found herself more of an admirer of the colors, shapes, and smells, than how to care for them.

August held his hand toward the reticule, signaling to hold it, so Livvy removed the ribbon from around her wrist and delivered the reticule into his outstretched fingers.

He examined the flower, which Livvy desperately wished she had done a better job at attempting to represent. Father had told her not to rush the work. Livvy had returned with, “It don’t matter what it do look like, Father. No one’ll be lookin’ at it but me.”

Nothing like having one’s pride take a direct hit.

“I’ve always thought a person’s favorite flower says much ’bout who they be,” August said.

“Do they?”

He nodded, his eyes remaining on the reticule. “Sea pinks be the hardiest o’ flowers. They thrive in the salty air and live uncertain on the edges o’ cliffsides, unaware o’ the dangers lurkin’ below. Despite all o’ this, the flowers remain firm, standin’ tall despite the winds and harsh weather, attractin’ bees and butterflies with their sweet nectar, and sharin’ their beauty with people for miles around.”

He paused, and Livvy’s breathing grew ragged as he finally looked up to meet her gaze. “’Ow similar ye be to these flowers,” he said softly. “Just like these sea pinks, ye shine with a brightness that makes ye stand out. In a similar manner, ye do suffer with the salty winds of others’ opinions and the harsh storms that come from peoples’ judgments.”

His voice was so soft, so understanding, that emotion welled in her throat.

“E’en more,” he continued, taking a step toward her, “like these sea pinks, ye stand tall despite everythin’ and remain unashamedly ye. And that be somethin’ I can’t ’elp but admire. ’Cause a woman who chooses sea pinks as ’er favorite flower be a woman who deserves to be admired.” He stared down at her, his eyes delving deep into her own. “A woman who deserves to be cherished.”

As he finished, Livvy’s soul was alight with bright rays of sunshine. Never had she been spoken to in such a way, so tenderly, so sweetly.

Surely this was the proof she’d been searching for—that he did feel something for her. Something far more than friendship.

“Does that make up for me cheatin’?” he asked, peering down at her, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Livvy nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes. Although…did ye not try to teach me a lesson ’bout not believin’ everythin’ everyone says?”

He paused, admiration in his eyes as he chuckled. “Those words did come back to bite me far faster than I thought they would ’ave.”