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Love. Admiration. Sea pinks.

Her head spun, unable to make sense of anything other than the spell August was casting over her. The truth within his words settled round her heart like a balm, soothing the neglected cracks that had been allowed to grow dry for far too long.

August was right. Father was insecure. And the ache she felt at his disapproval could not be so easily resolved. She had carried those scars with her for years, and would, no doubt, for many years to come, just as she would the scars Mother had left behind.

But then, was she not learning to overcome Mother’s mistakes? Could Livvy learn to overcome Father’s, as well? Could she truly strive like sea pinks and live as she so desired without fear of what others thought of her—Father included?

“I…I wish I could show Father—Father and the rest o’ the Mount—that e’en though I don’t so much take with socializin’, I…I wouldn’t mind bein’ invited every now and again to a party or a dance.” She looked up at him, finding courage with each new word she spoke. “I wish I could tell ’em that e’en though I don’t mind bein’ left to me own, that doesn’t mean I don’t get lonely from time to time, or that I might need a friend or two.” She hesitated. “But I fear I’ve lost me chance to say any o’ that.”

A twinge of sorrow lit August’s eye, that same sorrow that he held a number of times before. That sorrow she couldn’t quite decipher from where it had originated—or why.

“Ye ’aven’t lost your chance, Livvy,” he said, his solemn tone matching his expression. “Not with me.” He looked away as he continued. “There be an assembly on the mainland at the end o’ the week. In Marazion, at the inn. It could very well be your opportunity to…to live life the way ye’ve always wanted to. After all, ye always ’ave a choice.” He looked back at her, eyes shimmering. “Everyone always ’as a choice.”

Livvy hesitated, distracted by the moisture in his eyes, but he averted his gaze, swiftly blinking away what emotion he’d revealed.

She couldn’t help but wonder why he’d felt whatever it was he’d felt, but her mind was soon taken instead by the assembly.

Her heart had picked up at the very mention of the dance. Of course she’d heard about it already from Father and Miss Pengelly, but having August bring it up, did that mean he wished for her to attend? Did that mean he wished to dance with her?

“I’d heard of it,” she began. “But I wasn’t sure if I’d ’ave the courage to attend. Will ye…will ye be there?”

August chewed his bottom lip, nodding. “I will be. And I’d love to ’elp ye find the confidence ye need to shine.”

The words were rigid, as if rehearsed. But then, why would such words be rehearsed?

His words echoed once more in her mind.

“Ye ’ave a choice. Everyone always ’as a choice.”

Without another thought, Livvy nodded. This was her choice. “I’ll go, then. I’ll go to the assembly.”

August smiled, though he still averted his gaze. “Excellent. I be that glad to ’ear it.” He swallowed, taking a step away from her. “As for now, I…I fear I must return ’ome. Me mother be waitin’ for me.”

“’Course,” Livvy said, shrugging aside the disappointment she felt at his coming departure. “I be sorry for keepin’ ye so long.”

August shook his head. “It was me pleasure, Livvy.” He tipped his head to her. “Until the assembly.” Then he turned away and strode down the Mount’s pathway.

Livvy stared after him, wondering why he didn’t wish to walk with her. To keep up his appearance with Miss Pengelly, perhaps?

Still, as she watched his brown jacket stretched across his broad shoulders disappear around the pathway shrouded in thick leaves and lined with stone walls, she couldn’t keep her emotions in line.

Excitement, concern, worry, fear.

Too many feelings ran through her. She felt like the sea during a storm, unable to keep her many waves in check.

August would help her at the assembly—she knew that much about him. So there really would be nothing to fear. And as for the help she needed before the assembly?

Well, she knew just who to ask for help with that, as well.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

“Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.”

Northanger Abbey, Jane Austen

The assembly arrived a few short days later, and Livvy was…Well, frankly, she was beside herself with panic.

Why she’d ever agreed to do this was beyond her. Never mind that August had asked her to. Never mind that she wanted to grow and improve. Never mind that a small fraction of her—the insane fraction of her—wished to make new friends.