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August looked down at her with a look of admiration. “Ye caught on to that, did ye?”
CHAPTER NINE
“I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control.”
Emma, Jane Austen
“Yes, at once,” Livvy explained, sliding her finger along the spine of the book.
August didn’t respond for a moment, seeming to contemplate his response.
Perhaps Livvy was revealing too much. She really should do as father said and behave more like a normal person. But then, she was having such a lovely time being herself.
“Be this somethin’ ye wish to prove, too?” August asked. “As ye wished to prove ye weren’t readin’ in the bushes?”
She pulled in her lips to suppress what was sure to be the silliest smile that had ever stretched across a person’s lips. Could this man be any more delightful?
“I did enjoy your playactin’ ’fore,” she said.
His eyes squinted before his smile even appeared. “Your wish be me command.” He straightened again and put on that same dubious look from before. “Ye can’t know all the plays. Surely ye be exaggeratin’.”
She turned from the bookshelf and propped her hands on her hips in false annoyance. “I most certainly can. Ophelia be from Hamlet, and Portia be from The Merchant of Venice.”
August looked to the side, speaking as if to himself. “If only I knew if that be accurate or not.” He looked at her again with narrowed eyes. “Either o’ those ’ave Puck?”
She smiled. “No, ’e be in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
He rubbed his jaw, and Livvy couldn’t help but smile. The man was simply adorable, whether he knew Shakespeare or not.
He raised his chin. “Very well, ye’ve proven ye know me sisters’ names. What about mine?”
“That be the easiest of ’em all. Either Julius Caesar or Antony and Cleopatra.”
Finally, his pretended suspicion faded, and his smile returned. “Ye do impress me, Miss May.”
Was he still playacting? He certainly seemed sincere. She stood on the tips of her toes to slide Macbeth back onto the shelves.
“Per’aps that be your intention, though,” he continued. “To impress me.”
Her cheeks blazed red. How the devil had he known that was precisely what she was attempting to do? She returned her attention to the books, but not before she saw the soft twinkling in his eye and the slight crease in his cheek that hinted of a smile.
He’d been teasing her. Again.
“Be ye in the habit o’ teasin’ unsuspectin’ females, sir?” she asked, attempting to hide how delighted she was at being on the receiving end of his attentions.
His full smile finally revealed itself. “I think ye be the least unsuspectin’ female on the Mount, Miss May.”
She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, but she determined to take it as one.
Laughter sounded from the group behind them, and she turned to see Father’s eyes still directed away from her. She knew she ought to be speaking about something other than books to August, but she couldn’t bring herself to change topics.
“’Ave ye read any o’ Shakespeare’s works?” She pulled down a copy of The Tempest, which she’d only read once before.
He blew out a deflated breath. “I’m ashamed to say that I ’aven’t. I’m afraid I don’t ’ave much time for it.” He stared up at the books. “Though Mother says if one truly wishes to read, one will do whate’er it takes to do so. Emma says so, too.”
The magic around Livvy vanished like wisps of smoke on the air. Emma. Miss Pengelly. August had brought her into their conversation. Was that his subtle way letting Livvy know about his attachment to the woman, or had it simply been a friendly mention?
Had Livvy been misreading the winks, the teasing, the flirtation all along, or was she misreading things now in assuming that he truly was attached to Miss Pengelly?
