Page 115 of To Know Miss May

Hadn’t it?

He continued. “Your father saw ’ow well ye and I got on, so ’e asked me to befriend ye.”

Livvy’s breathing grew ragged, though she forced herself to remain calm. So…so there friendship was not true? August had not desired to know her after all?

“Not only that,” August continued, tears flooding his eyes, “but ’e asked me to also…” He grimaced. “To ’elp ye find joy in socializin’ and to make ye more presentable so ye might find a spouse off the Mount.”

Her head spun, the cold wind being the only thing to keep her from expiring on the stone beneath her feet. How could this be so? Father wouldn’t do that. August wouldn’t do that. Would he?

“So ye were just pretendin’ to be me friend?” she asked, the breath squeezing from her lungs at the weight pressed upon her chest, as if the Mount now rested against her, burying her deep within its caverns like Cormoran.

August stepped forward, but she drew a back, and he winced. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she could hardly make sense of anything in that moment.

“No,” August said at once with a pleading look. “No, I wasn’t pretendin’. I swear to ye, Livvy. I wanted to be your friend from the start. The moment I saw ye emergin’ from those bushes, I wanted to know ye further. Then your father…” he looked away, grimacing. “’Twasn’t ’is fault. I chose to go along with ’im. To ’elp ’im get what ’e wanted. But I swore to only do so if it ’elped ye. Only e’er if it ’elped ye. But things got out o’ hand.”

She looked away, shaking her head, the last few weeks spinning about her mind like the wheels of a runaway cart. Every moment she’d spent with him—the odd behavior, the strange looks, the times she’d seen the sorrow in his eyes that she’d been unable to make sense of—it was all due to this secret. This…this lie.

Every walk they’d taken, every conversation they’d shared, flashed through her mind. “So be ye a questioner for Father?” she asked, her stomach in knots. “Did ’e ask ye to find out me secrets and report back to ’im?”

August instantly shook his head, his brow furrowed. “No, it be nothin’ like that.” He stared into her eyes, as if determined to have her believe him. “I promise ye, Livvy. Everythin’ we did, everythin’ ye said, I’ve not told another soul one word of it. The only thing I e’er told ’im was that ye wished to remain on the Mount.”

Her concerns were quelled, but only for a moment, for how was she to believe him when he’d kept this secret from her for so long?

Then another thought occurred. “The assembly. The men dancin’ with me…” She didn’t have to finish, for August was already nodding.

“That be your father’s final…request for me,” he explained. “’E wished for ye to dance only with mainlanders, hopin’ it’d be the final push to get ye to leave.”

She huffed out a disbelieving breath. How foolish she’d been to think that any of them might have been interested in her. How foolish she’d been to think that any of this had been true.

“Why?” she asked, peering up at him, her hands trembling as she continued to consider all that his revelation entailed. “Why did ye do it? To embarrass me further?”

“No, I—”

“Then to prove I really do be the odd one o’ the Mount ’cause me father ’ad to request ye to be me friend?”

He drew another step toward her before holding back, his brow drawn high with emotion. “No,” he stated emphatically. “No, I wanted to be your friend, Livvy. And your Father…” He winced. “I can’t blame ’im for wantin’ ’is daugh’er to be ’appy, but ’e…’E gave me no choice but to do as ’e said.”

The words brought her back to when she’d spoken with him near the Giant’s Heart, and sorrow nearly consumed her at how much had changed—how much truth had been shared—since that fateful moment where she’d decided to trust August wholly and attend an assembly she thought he’d wanted her to attend.

Instead, it had all been a ruse.

“Just as ye said ’fore, August,” she whispered, staring up at him, her whole body shaking with tremors. “There always be a choice. Ye always ’ave a choice.”

His shoulders fell forward, and she thought she saw a tear slide down his cheek, though she couldn’t be certain with the rain pouring down upon him.

“Ye be right,” he said, his features falling in sorrow. “I did ’ave a choice. And I made a poor one. But I ne’er meant to ’urt ye. I love—”

“No,” she interrupted, backing away. “Don’t ye say it.” She couldn’t bear to listen to what she’d dreamt of hearing for years, only to now wonder if he spoke the truth or not. “I can’t believe anythin’ ye say anymore, August. I can’t trust ye.”

His eyes, rimmed in red, pleaded silently as he looked down at her. “I know,” he whispered. “And I can’t tell ye ’ow I regret me actions.”

But regret wasn’t enough. Not when their relationship started off with a lie—Father’s lie.

She turned away from him, no longer able to bear seeing his sorrow, for it too deeply matched her own. “I think it be better if we don’t speak again.”

“But, Livvy—”

“Goodbye, Mr. Moon.”