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The captain narrowed his eyes a fraction. “I’ll be sure to let him know. But I…forgive me, I thought my wife might have spoken of it. Did Mrs. Honeysett not mention to you possibly working at Golowduyn during the winter?”

Morvoren swallowed the ache back down in her heart. That was before, when Mrs. Honeysett would have wanted Morvoren to remain within walking distance. “She did. But things have changed. I think it’ll be best for me to work farther away from Tristwick.”

Concern creased in his brow. “Are you well, Miss Hollow? Is there anything we can do for you?”

But she was already backing away. “I be fine, thank ye, sir. Give my best to your wife.”

Then she spun on her heel and made for the Honeysetts. Trevik’s eyes were still on her. Before she could even reach them, Poppy waylaid her, linking an arm through hers and redirecting her to the cliffsides.

“Come, let’s walk ’ome together. Mother and Trev always take far too long.”

Morvoren sent a fleeting glance toward Trevik, then followed Poppy without the heart to protest. At least Poppy’s constant talking would prevent Morvoren’s depressing thoughts from continuing.

And yet, she couldn’t have been more wrong. Poppy hardly said a word as the two girls traversed the cliffside. Above pointing out a few dolphins hopping in and out of the water in the distant shores, her tongue was as bound as Morvoren’s.

Dark storm clouds glowered on the horizon, a furrowed brow to the sea’s blue face. A storm would be fitting for Tristwick at that moment. Nothing was going right.

“Morvoren,” Poppy said, speaking through her musings, “be somethin’ wrong today?”

Yes. Everything was wrong today. “Not at all. Why?”

“I just…ye’ve been more silent ’an usual, and I just wanted to be sure ye were well.”

Morvoren’s smile faded. She couldn’t keep up the façade any longer. But she also couldn’t tell the girl on her own. Poppy would need the support of her family around her.

“I be well. I just…have somethin’ to speak with your family about. When we all get home.”

To their home. Morvoren didn’t have a home anymore.

Poppy’s face fell. “About your leavin’?”

Morvoren chewed the inside of her lip, giving a simple nod.

With a nod of her own, Poppy faced forward. “I thought, after seein’ ye and Trev last night…”

Morvoren swallowed the emotion rising in her throat. What could she say to help the girl understand without giving away one of Morvoren’s darkest moments?

“’Tis complicated,” she finally settled with.

Poppy didn’t respond.

Morvoren longed to help the girl who’d been the sister she’d never had, but any words she had would not be the words Poppy wished to hear, for they were the very words Morvoren wished to say—“I’ll stay.”

Instead, she looped her arm around Poppy’s and drew close to her, willing their proximity to comfort one another since words could not.

They rounded the bend in silence, their mood as sullen as the approaching clouds, as cold as the wind bringing them in.

Then Poppy gasped, stopping in her tracks as her free hand reached up to clutch Morvoren’s arm.

“What is it?” Morvoren asked, her eyes swinging about before settling where Poppy had focused her attention.

Tristwick had finally come into view, and on the stretch of beach visible with the low tide, stood Lieutenant Harris.

Morvoren’s own heart picked up, feeling for Poppy’s plight.

“What ’e be doin’ ’ere?” Poppy whispered, though from where they stood, there was no chance of the lieutenant hearing them. “’E ne’er comes to this beach to walk. Only Tregalwen or Golowduyn.”

“Have ye spoken with him since he told you he was leavin’?”