Page 46 of To Know Miss May

Livvy wasn’t certain of how she’d be of service, but she couldn’t stand by any longer without helping.

“Did ye lose a shoe, love?”

Livvy’s heart once again jumped into her throat. She shifted her gaze to where August stepped down from the harbor wall onto the lower pathway, his eyes focused solely on the little girl.

Thank heavens Livvy hadn’t stood yet. She was certain she’d faint from his sudden appearance.

“Yes, sir,” the girl responded.

Livvy watched with bated breath, scooting forward to the edge of the bench. The scene was so familiar, so similar to what had happened when she was a little girl—when she’d first fallen for August Moon. She really shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d find another little girl in need.

He walked to the edge of the pathway, peering down into the water where the shoe no doubt bobbed up and down in the lilting waves.

“It was a new shoe, too,” the little girl said, clearly unintimidated by the adults now gathering around her.

“That’s quite all right, darling,” the mother said, looking around at the growing crowd, her cheeks an even brighter red than before. “We shan’t cry over a lost shoe.”

“Ah, but it’d be a shame to lose it permanently,” August said.

Livvy watched from behind the gathering crowd as August placed his hands on his hips, then shrugged. “Ye know what? It be far too nice a day to stay out o’ this water.”

Then without hesitation, he rolled up his sleeves, removed his boots, stockings, and cravat, leaned over the edge of the harbor, then jumped down straight into the water.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“What reinforcement we may gain from hope, If not what resolution from despair.”

Paradise Lost, John Milton

The crowd gasped, smiles abounding on all the spectators—Livvy included. She fought against her desire to see what had become of August in the water, but all too soon, she gave in. Picking up her book and holding it against her chest, she raced to join the others, standing off to the side until she could see over the edge herself.

August emerged from the water as she peered down at him, the crowd speaking with the little girl who stared on with excitement. Murmurs of the kindness and quality of August surrounded her, but Livvy was simply focused on watching him.

Floating in the water, he wiped the hair back from his brow, then swam toward the shoe that had floated toward the edge of the harbor and now bounced against the stone wall.

His white shirt billowed around him in the soft waves as he wrapped his strong fingers around the shoe, then he shifted in the harbor and headed toward where the steps—half-covered in water—led back up to the walkway.

Livvy tried to tell herself to return to the bench. Or better yet, return home. But then, surely she needed to see the shoe reunited with its owner.

Still standing on the outskirts of the crowd, she watched him reach the steps and emerge from the water like Adonis, water dripping from his person, clothing clinging to every inch of him.

Look away, Livvy.

But she couldn’t. Besides, why should she have to when no one else was? She was merely watching to ensure the little girl received her shoe. That was all.

So why was she only staring at the curves and ridges of August’s back, so clearly defined and visible through his sopping wet shirt that was now entirely transparent?

As he finally reached the top of the stairs where the little girl and her mother stood waiting, Livvy’s heart had never warmed so greatly—except, perhaps, when he’d helped her as a child, too.

He leaned down and extended the shoe to the beaming girl, the gathered crowd breaking out into a simple applause.

August hardly seemed to notice them, however, his eyes focused on the girl. “’Ere ye go, love.”

The girl took it with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. “Thank you, sir!”

“’Course, ma’am. But ye’ll probably want to dry it out ’fore ye wear it again.” He winked at the girl, and the mother laughed, who expressed her gratitude for his service, as well.

A few people spoke to August—“Good on ye, lad,” and “Well done, August”—before the crowd began to disperse.