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He’d had dreams of late where he’d spoken with Mr. May, told him of all that had been going on between himself and Livvy.
“I know ye’ve told me to find a way for your daugh’er to marry someone off the Mount, sir. But I be sorry to say that we’ve fallen in love with each other. We are to marry and remain on the Mount fore’er more.”
The dreams always ended up with Livvy turning her back on August because of his lies and Mr. May throwing him over the cliffside.
Unfortunately, these dreams held a fraction of truth. Mr. May would never accept anything less than his daughter moving off the Mount, and Livvy would never forgive August for his deception. So what could he do?
Speak with her.
The words came with a force he couldn’t deny. He knew that was the only thing to be done. But his thoughts always came back to how his honesty would affect Emma and Nicholas’s secret.
Feeling worse than ever before, August decided to take care of one thing first—discover why Livvy hadn’t returned his smile. Because his top concern was to ensure Livvy was happy.
Excusing himself from his family—his sisters watching him with eyes as narrowed as his elderly aunts’—he made for the Mays and Pengellys.
Livvy caught sight of him first. If he wasn’t mistaken, and he was fairly certain he wasn’t, he could have sworn that he saw panic in her expression.
She pulled her gaze away, whispered something to her father, curtsied to Emma, then turned on her heel to flee down the stairs in the direction of the pathway down the Mount.
August stuttered to a halt. There was no mistaking her actions. She was avoiding him. Which meant she was upset with him.
But, why? What on earth had he done?
His mind raced over his actions, combing through every possible thing that could be construed—or misconstrued—as cruel before he sighed with frustration. But then, what was the purpose in wondering when he could simply ask the woman instead?
With determined steps, August left the courtyard behind and slipped past family after family on his way down the Mount, careful not to trip on the cobblestones or slip down the slick pathway until he finally caught sight of Livvy weaving in and out of the crowds migrating down the path.
Heavens, but the woman was fast.
Fortunately, for his sake, she became stuck behind a larger group of individuals—elderly women and men—who took up the length of the pathway. With no chance to squeeze through, Livvy slowed her step and walked behind them instead.
Now was August’s chance. Stepping quickly, he maneuvered around more individuals until finally, he caught up with her.
“Good mornin’,” he said.
Livvy started, turning to face him with raised brows. “August.”
She glanced around them, no doubt to ensure no one else was within their vicinity to have overheard her use of his given name.
Fortunately, no one else seemed to be in as much of a rush as Livvy did to make it home that Sunday.
“Mornin’,” she finally returned, focusing her gaze ahead of them.
No doubt she was now contemplating squeezing past the elderly couples in front of them.
“I ain’t sure if ye noticed ’fore, but I was tryin’ to speak with ye back there,” he said.
That was more diplomatic than what he wished to ask, Why be ye avoidin’ me?
Livvy didn’t respond. That was enough of an answer in the affirmative for him.
“So ye did notice,” he said.
“Yes, but I…I needed to return ’ome.”
Unease clung to August’s chest like ivy to a stone wall. “Did ye receive your reticule from your maid?”
She nodded, mumbling a quiet, “Thank ye,” before falling silent again.
