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Mr. May stopped, slowly turning around. “Yes, Mr. Moon?”
Footsteps shuffled behind him, and he became keenly aware of his family’s eyes and ears upon him, but August no longer cared.
What did it matter if anyone heard? What did it matter what they thought of him or who knew what? All he cared about was standing up for Livvy when she could not.
“Thank ye for the offer,” August said, “but I’ll not be acceptin’ it.”
Mr. May smirked, causing August’s rage to burn all the brighter. “I told Liv ye’d say that. That your pride’d get in the way.”
“’Tisn’t me pride,” August said. “’Tis me love for your daugh’er.”
Mr. May frowned in confusion, then his face contorted with anger as he realized what August was saying. He opened his mouth to speak, then glanced over August’s shoulder, no doubt seeing the rest of the Moons standing behind him.
August’s courage grew.
“Ye be out o’ your mind, Moon,” Mr. May said. He tried to walk away, clearly not wishing to speak with August with an audience gathered.
But August would not be stopped. “No, I ain’t. I be in a better frame o’ mind than ye, forcin’ your daugh’er off the Mount when it be the last thing she wishes to do.”
Mr. May looked around them, waiting for a passerby to walk away before he stepped closer to the house once again, pointing a finger at August. “I told ye, it be none o’ your business what I do with me daugh’er.”
August barked out a laugh. “It be me business when ye forced me to lie to ’er, forced me to trick ’er to leave the Mount.” He took a step forward, and a flash of fear flickered in Mr. May’s eye. “And it be me business the minute I fell in love with ’er.”
Mr. May’s nostrils flared, and he narrowed his eyes, his words spitting, though he kept his voice low. “I should’ve known ye’d betray me in such a way. Fallin’ in love with ’er. Ye ’ad one job. Convince ’er to want to leave the Mount.”
“No,” August said. “The job I agreed to was to make Miss May ’appy. And she’ll ne’er be ’appy off the Mount. Nor will she be ’appy with a father who be embarrassed by ’er.”
His jaw twitched. “Ye know nothin’, Moon.”
“I know more than ye think,” August said. He needed to tread carefully, not wishing to betray anymore of Livvy’s trust by revealing what she’d said about her father. “I know it do pain ’er each time ye reveal ’ow ye don’t love ’er for who she be. But I do, sir. I love ’er ’cause of who she be.”
Mr. May scoffed. “If ye think I’ll allow ye to be with ’er, ye be mad.” He pointed his finger at August, dropping his voice so no one else could hear him. “Ye stay away from ’er. Ye stay away, or I’ll make ye suffer more than I e’er ’ave ’fore.”
August gave a mirthless smile. “Ye needn’t worry ’bout that, sir. She don’t want to be with me. The damage we’ve done to ’er be irreversible.”
For the briefest of moments, Mr. May’s eyes revealed his regret, the pain he must have felt somewhere in his cold heart breaking through his angry defenses, but he looked away.
August continued, his voice low. “Ye could not make me suffer any more than that.”
Instead of the satisfaction August had expected from Mr. May, the man merely glanced back at August’s family, then drew another step away.
“Good day, Mr. Moon,” he said shortly, then he headed in the opposite direction of his house.
August watched him until he disappeared into the Sugar Loaf, then he turned to face his family. Sure enough, his sisters and parents stared at him in silence, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
He’d put this off for too long. It was time for him to come out of the stupor he’d lowered himself into and ask for help from his family.
He could no longer do this alone.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
“Let us never underestimate the power of a well-written letter.”
Persuasion, Jane Austen
After speaking with Father, veritably forcing him to hire August back at the castle gardens or she would refuse to leave the Mount once again, Livvy had written a note for Emma to deliver to August, requesting that they meet for a brief moment of conversation.
However, the next day, when she went to deliver the note, Emma handed one to Livvy from August instead.
