Page 28 of To Know Miss May

He couldn’t believe he’d just agreed to such a ruse. Lying about being attached to Emma was one thing, but going behind Miss May’s back to convince her to socialize? To convince her to leave the Mount?

He did not know how he could do it.

One thing was for certain, while he wished to help Mr. May and his daughter, if Miss May didn’t wish to leave the Mount, August would not continue with any of this.

He couldn’t bear it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“My friends were poor but honest.”

All's Well That Ends Well, William Shakespeare

Livvy’s breathing grew heavier as she made her way farther up the Mount, leaning forward with each new step she took to be able to make it the rest of the way.

She’d lived on the island her entire life, and still she found it difficult to make it all the way to the top without stopping for a quick breath due to the steepness of the alternating steps and steep pathways.

Fortunately, today she wasn’t headed to the top of the Mount where the castle rested. Instead, she was making her way to the east side. Steps and slick hillsides due to heavy rainfall still met her way, but the journey wasn’t as arduous.

Anyway, it was worth it to see the Otterhams. It always was.

As the elderly couple came into view in their usual location—out of doors, in the midst of a field of jersey cows—Livvy’s mood instantly lightened, and her footsteps quickened.

It didn’t take long for Mrs. Otterham to see her, and Livvy’s delight increased as the woman’s face brightened.

“Oh, Livvy May!” Mrs. Otterham called out, waving her hand in the air. She approached the wooden gate that kept the jersey cows in the large pasture encircled with a stone wall. “I was so ’opin’ ye would stop by today. ’Ow we’ve missed ye.”

As the Mount’s cow-keepers, Mr. and Mrs. Otterham watched over the herd of Jersey cows that provided milk for the three hundred or so citizens that lived on the island. In Livvy’s opinion, there were no better caretakers for something so important for the Mount.

Mrs. Otterham exited the gate just as Livvy arrived, the woman pulling her into a warm embrace, which Livvy heartily returned.

Every Wednesday, she visited with the couple and their cows, counting the Otterhams as her only friends—see, she did have them. Last week, however, on account of a head cold and excessive concern from Father, Livvy had had to miss out on her visit, and she’d felt their absence greatly.

“Ye be feelin’ better, yes?” Mrs. Otterham said, pulling back and staring at Livvy with a scrutinizing gaze. “Ye didn’t come out walkin’ when ye be unwell?”

“No, ma’am. I be feelin’ much better.”

Mrs. Otterham reached up, placing her hands on both sides of Livvy’s face and grinned. Her wrinkles splayed out from her eyes like bright rays of sunshine. “Ye do be lookin’ beautiful, me darlin’. As usual.” Then she placed a loving kiss to Livvy’s forehead before shouting over her shoulder. “Mr. Otter’am! Ye be comin’?” She didn’t wait for a response before turning back to Livvy. “Did ye finish your new book, then?” she asked next as her husband approached, the herd of cows following behind him in a slow migration.

Livvy nodded. “Yes and started another. And three more.”

Mrs. Otterham laughed. “Ain’t that typical of ye. Best reader I know.”

Livvy beamed like a child being praised for finishing her schooling. Where Father couldn’t appreciate her reading abilities, the Otterhams did in excess. In fact, they were the ones who fueled her passion for the written word.

“There ye be,” Mr. Otterham said, finally reaching the gate. “’Ow be me favorite woman on the island?” He paused, turning to his wife, his greying hair flipping out in tufts beneath his cap. “’Sides me wife, ’course.”

Livvy grinned. How she loved these good, happy people. “I’m well, sir. And ye both be farin’ fine?”

“Oh, same as usual,” Mrs. Otterham said. “Me ’usband’s back be actin’ up, but ’e be copin’ well enough. And ye know me and me knees. Other ’an that, we be fine and fitty, as usual.”

“I be that glad to ’ear it. I was sorry to ’ave missed seein’ ye both last week.” She motioned behind them. “And ’ow be the cows farin’?”

“Oh, they be just fine. Enjoyin’ Mr. Otter’am as he fusses o’er ’em.”

“I don’t fuss o’er ’em cows,” he protested.

“Ye do, too. Ye take better care o’ them than ye did your own children. Look at the crown o’ flowers ye just put on ol’ Charlotte, there.”