Page 95 of To Know Miss May

The peace Livvy had experienced for a single moment vanished like mist on the air, replaced with thick clouds of worry. “No,” she groaned.

Emma grinned, pulling on her gloves and handing Livvy her own. “Come. In me own experience, the dread be worse than what ye dread in the first place.”

Holding onto that hope, Livvy followed Emma as the two of them stepped down the stairs and through the small corridor to the front door. Passing by the sitting room, Livvy spotted her father, who, indeed, sat by the fire with his pipe.

“I’ll wait for ye outside,” Emma said softly, curtsying to Father before leaving the house.

Livvy faced Father with a smile, peering down at her dress as he stood to bid her farewell. “Will this do?” she asked.

He didn’t respond for a moment, his eyes softening in a manner she’d not seen in years—perhaps even since the last time she’d gone to a ball. It was the look of a father who was finally proud of his daughter.

“Ye look lovely, Liv,” he said. “Miss Pengelly did a fine job. I be that proud of ye for changin’ and facin’ your fears by goin’ this evenin’.”

“Thank ye, Father,” she said. She wished she felt something more from his words, but all she experienced was a sense of sadness. After all, he was only proud because he thought she’d changed who she fundamentally was inside.

The voices outside their house grew louder as more young people and chaperones from the Mount gathered near the Moons’ home—the meeting place where they’d decided to gather before they’d walk together across the causeway to the assembly.

She needed to join them before they left without her.

“Ye ’ave all the dances memorized?” Father asked.

“I believe so.”

“And ye’ll stay with Mrs. Moon?”

She nodded. Father had been the first to suggest Mrs. Moon as chaperone.

“I ain’t one for dancin’, see,” he’d said.

“And ye won’t speak too much ’bout your books?” he asked next.

“No, Father.”

“’Cause ye know ’ow uncomfortable it do make people.”

Livvy bit her tongue. She longed to tell Father how August didn’t mind her speaking about books. In fact, he encouraged it. But that would open up an entire conversation Livvy wasn’t sure she wished to have.

Because Father still wanted her to leave the Mount—he was no doubt planning on it. Surely he would change his tune once he discovered August’s feelings for Livvy.

Her heart flipped at the notion of actually marrying the man she’d loved for so many years, but she quelled the feeling as best she could.

She was getting ahead of herself. She was nearly certain August had intentions for her, but she’d never dare bring them up to Father until she was absolutely certain.

After all, August had yet to even make an offer. Would tonight change that?

Laughter sounded outside, and she glanced at the door again. She didn’t wish to extend this conversation any longer than necessary. She wanted to see August. “Worry not, Father. I understand. And I’ll be well-behaved so ye won’t be embarrassed by me.”

How she longed to hear him deny her words. Instead, he simply nodded, then turned back to the fire, resting his hand on the mantle. “I look forward to hearin’ ’bout your time off the Mount. I be certain ye’ll enjoy yourself—and the mainland. Just like your mother.”

Livvy tried to ignore his words, but they niggled at her already frayed nerves. True to his promise two weeks ago, Father hadn’t pressed her to leave the Mount again. Perhaps she should have made him promise to no longer compare her to Mother, too.

Weight pressed down against her chest, leaving her feeling heavier than the boats in the harbor without water to float upon.

Instead of speaking her mind, however, she turned to the side, ready to be finished with the conversation. Where had her courage gone? Had she only confidence with everyone but Father?

Live without regret.

“I ain’t like ’er very much, ye know,” she said softly.