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Morvoren moved to stand beside him, Poppy and Lieutenant Harris still facing each other, their expressions impossible to read from the distance. “Ye can’t know that, Trevik,” she said, forcing a softened tone. She could only imagine how he must be feeling—protective over his younger sister, defensive over Morvoren’s thoughtless comments. “Per’aps the lieutenant will stay for her.”

Trevik’s laugh was bitter, chilling her more thoroughly than the wind. “That man’ll go to sea whether Poppy shares ’er feelin’s with ’im or not.” He looked away. “Life and responsibilities can’t be so easily set aside. And we both know that feelin’s be as fleetin’ as the sunshine.”

As if on cue, the clouds covered the sun above, and another chill rushed over her limbs.

“I told ye not to interfere.” His voice was taut, as if it would snap at any moment. “She be too young to know love, and too young to know the pain that’ll come from it.”

Was he still speaking of Poppy? Morvoren wasn’t so sure. “She isn’t too young to know her own mind, though.”

Thunder rumbled nearby, rolling over her words in a deep, throaty moan.

Trevik scoffed again, then fell silent as his eyes focused on the beach. Morvoren followed his gaze, watching as Poppy slowly backed away from the lieutenant, then the girl turned on her heel and fled up the pathway leading toward the houses of Tristwick. The lieutenant called after her, his voice barely above the sound of the rushing waves, but Poppy continued her escape.

Her actions could only signify one thing—rejection.

Trevik’s eyes were upon Morvoren’s in an instant, condemning and hard. “Ye see? This what comes o’ your meddlin’.”

Then he swiftly turned and followed after his sister.

Her mouth dropped at his accusation. She tried to hold her tongue, tried not to become defensive at his blaming her, but her exhaustion, her sorrow, and her insecurity melded together like smelting copper, and her indignation soon masked the ache she felt at his words.

“This ain’t ’cause of me, Trevik,” she said, trailing after him, taking two steps for his one. “I was simply tryin’ to help her, unlike what ye’ve done. Kept her locked away, stoppin’ her from flirtin’ with anyone.”

Trevik didn’t respond, simply stormed ahead of her.

“She be sixteen, Trevik,” she said. “She doesn’t have to get married now, but for heaven’s sake, ye ought to allow the poor girl to fall in love if she so desires.”

Thunder boomed closer, hollow and deep, and she glanced up to find the sky entirely consumed by the dark clouds that had been on the horizon only moments ago.

“Did ye hear me, Trevik?” she questioned, still trailing behind.

“Yes, I ’eard ye. And I think ye be as daft as me sister.”

She pulled back at his slight. She knew he behaved only out of concern for Poppy’s well-being, but she couldn’t abide his stubborn pride.

“Better to be daft than without any feelin’ at all,” she bit back.

A flash of light flickered above, then a crackle of thunder resounded around them, followed by a deep rumbling as constant as the waves of the sea. Thick raindrops speckled the ground first, a foreshadowing of the storm to come. Large droplets dotted the pathway and fell against the tip of Morvoren’s nose as they neared the cellars.

As they neared the cobbled pathway down to the beach, Lieutenant Harris crossed their path, and he stopped, staring at them both.

Trevik glowered at him. “I told ye not to ’urt ’er, ’Arris,” he said. “All those months ago. I warned ye.”

The lieutenant opened his mouth, no doubt to defend himself, but Trevik drove forward up the pathway toward his home without a glance back.

Morvoren hesitated but a moment. Trevik had spoken with Lieutenant Harris about Poppy? She eyed the young man, his strong jaw twitching, his eyes reflecting the pain she could only imagine was the same within Poppy’s. Did he love her, then? Or was he merely sorry for injuring her?

He turned pleading eyes on Morvoren. “I never meant to hurt her. I…I would never wish…”

Morvoren longed to stay with him, to hear what had happened between him and Poppy, but Trevik was already making headway up the cliffside. She couldn’t allow him to confront Poppy alone. The last thing that girl would want is for her unsympathetic brother to chastise her behavior after such a devastating loss.

“I know ye didn’t,” she said, backing away. “Excuse me.”

Then she left his haggard expression and charged forth toward Trevik. She couldn’t feel remorse for Lieutenant Harris. At least not yet. She had to ensure Poppy was well. She had to tell the Honeysetts about Uncle. She had to pray that Trevik…that Trevik didn’t hate her.

She kept with his pace, though one step behind, passing a few residents of Tristwick who watched them with curious gazes. The rain had ceased its warning by the time they neared the other cottages, now falling down in droves. She spotted Edern Cardy smoking his pipe, ever-watchful at his usual place just outside his door.

“Quite a storm, Trev,” the man said ominously above the rain, the waves, and the thunder.