Page 64 of To Know Miss May

Livvy’s words had come so softly, he hadn’t known if she’d meant to speak them aloud until she continued. “She said it be God’s way o’ sayin’ that beauty and light can be found even durin’ dark times.”

He watched her, a soft expression across her features as she continued. “She’d stay awake until the early hours o’ the morning on clear nights, just to watch the moon slide across the skies.”

August wasn’t quite sure when it had begun, but he only realized now how hypnotizing this woman’s words were to him. She was intoxicating, now more than ever. She’d always appeared to have her guard up, skittering eyes, worrying over her father, remaining silent around others.

But now, she had dropped her entire façade, and August was seeing her—all of her—for the first time. She was irrevocably, entirely Livvy May, and he couldn’t help but admire her all the more because of it.

“Sounds like ye take after ’er,” he whispered. “Stayin’ up late. Admirin’ nature.”

Livvy looked back down to the causeway, her eyes taking on a faraway look, as if she was, in actuality, standing in the sea. “Father says the same. That I take after me mother in many ways. I can’t see it, though.”

For some reason, she didn’t seem upset by such a fact. But then, what did he know? He had never lost a parent. “Ye must miss her a great deal.”

Her lips tightened. “Ten years does much to ’eal.”

There was something in her tone that gave him pause, as if Livvy hadn’t been referring to healing from her mother’s death but healing from something else entirely. But, what?

“At any rate,” she continued, “Mother wasn’t around much, so it was just me father and I more often than not. As such, I’m beginnin’ to lose much o’ me memory of ’er.”

August fought the urge to ask her where her mother was when she was not at home or with her family, but instinct told him to keep that question to himself. He’d heard the rumors of Mrs. May, but he’d never dignify them with the attention of forcing Livvy to speak of them aloud.

“Does that upset ye, not rememberin’ ’er?” he asked instead.

She pulled in her upper lip, biting it for a moment before responding with a wary eye in his direction. “Not more than it ought to.”

August tried to react accordingly, but he couldn’t help his surprise from raising his brow. She didn’t miss her mother? Or she didn’t mind forgetting the pain associated with losing her?

He hesitated to ask her to clarify as she pressed her lips more tightly together, seemingly finished with the conversation. “Ye don’t ’ave to speak more if ye don’t wish to. I don’t wish to pry.”

She turned to face him. “That be what everyone says.”

Her stare penetrated his defenses, as if she stared directly at his soul. He made to speak, wishing to reassure her that he meant what he said, but he clamped his mouth shut, allowing her to make the decision for herself.

Finally, a soft smile curved the corners of her lips. “But I be more apt to believe ye than others.”

Warmth spread through his chest, despite the nipping night air. He didn’t know why she believed him over anyone else, but he was grateful to have earned her trust.

As soon as the warmth pervaded his body, it was stripped clean from his person. He didn’t deserve her trust. Not after what he’d agreed to do for her father.

He tried to remind himself that he really was helping her, that he would do what it took to guide her toward happiness, even if it wasn’t what her father wanted. But despite his good intentions, he was still being deceitful, and his heart ached because of it.

“Be somethin’ wrong?” Livvy asked. She must have seen his mood shift.

“Yes. I…” He drew a deep breath, longing to tell her the truth.

Nicholas.

Emma.

His family.

His job.

Mr. May’s threats.

Livvy’s feelings.

Livvy’s heart.