Page 61 of To Know Miss May

“Yes,” she murmured. “I just can’t see this blasted pathway.”

“I should’ve brought a lantern,” he said, mostly to himself. “But then we’d be easier to spot.”

“Oh, I wasn’t complainin’ at ye for not bringin’ a light. But ye could’ve at least trimmed them trees above us so the moonlight could at least shine through.”

How he loved her teasing. “Forgive me, my lady. I shall see to it on the morrow.”

“Very good, Mr. Moon.”

Perhaps he really should have trimmed the trees. How he was dying to see her features again.

After a few moments in silence, they followed the curve of the pathway that temporarily steepened, and their breaths mingled.

He hesitated with what he was about to say next, but after a moment, either his weakened mind or strengthening heart egged him on.

“Now that we be friends, ye can call me August, if ye’d like.”

She didn’t respond for a moment. He bit his lower lip, dying to know what she was thinking. This was very nearly destroying him.

“Very well,” came her soft response. “Then ye may call me Lavinia. Or Livvy.”

Relief swept over him. “Which would ye prefer?”

“Livvy.”

“Ye don’t like Lavinia?”

They rounded another corner, the incline raising and foliage thickening.

“I do,” she said softly. “But it was always more me mother’s name than mine.”

At the mention of her mother, he paused. Until that point, he’d only heard word of her once before—when Miss May had spoken of August rescuing the pages of her book. But nothing beyond that. Mr. May had never once spoken of her, either.

Of course, August had heard the rumors about the woman, but what good were rumors when the truth was somewhere between them, hidden beneath the rubble like crocuses beneath the snow?

Clearly, the Mays didn’t like speaking of the woman, though he could only guess as to why.

“Livvy it be, then,” he responded, leaving the mention of her mother out of it.

They continued their progression, passing by the well and the Giant’s Heart until Miss May, or rather, Livvy—he did enjoy the sound of that—spoke again.

“Will ye really not tell me where we be goin’? I be thinkin’ ye be takin’ me to break our way into the castle.”

He stared straight ahead, keeping his voice level. “Be it considered breakin’ in when one ’as a key?”

She stopped, and he followed suit, turning back to see her staring up at him—or rather, he assumed she was staring at him. He still couldn’t see much of her face.

“Ye can’t be serious,” she stated.

“I can be. And I am.”

“Ye mean to enter the castle?”

He smiled. “No, I mean for us to enter the gardens. But worry not. I’ve a key.”

He was given said key to be able to enter the walled gardens when he was first hired on, just like the other trusted undergardeners. It wasn’t a common practice, to any degree. But August knew Mr. May wished for others to have keys, as well, so the man could leave and arrive whenever he saw fit.

“But…” Livvy began, her voice still thick with worry. “But surely the castle guards will spot us.”