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The condemnation in Mr. Honeysett’s voice rankled Morvoren’s pride. It was only natural that she’d want to rankle his right back.

She kept her eyes on the waves rolling in, replying with a simple, “Nothin’.”

He moved around her, stepping in front of her view of the sea and casting a large shadow across half of her. “What were ye talkin’ about?” he repeated more slowly.

She scowled up at his towering figure, but the sun right to the side of his chest burned her eyes. She looked away with a wince. “We were only havin’ a friendly conversation. A friendly conversation that ye rudely interrupted.”

Mr. Honeysett stared down at her, remaining silent. Since Morvoren could no longer see the sea, she looked to the group instead as they began a new game. Poppy stood next to Lieutenant Harris, her gaze continually flashing toward him.

“I know ye be up to somethin’, Miss ’Ollow,” Mr. Honeysett stated, making it impossible for her to ignore him further.

She craned her neck to see his face, this time shading the sun with the palm of her hand. It was rather rude of him to continue standing there so close to her, blocking her view of the sea but not of the sun.

“Do ye, now?” she asked. “What be that, then?”

His lips twitched, as if he wished to speak but wasn’t allowing himself to.

“I see,” she said with an amused expression. “Well, it do seem to I that ye know a great deal.”

She made to look away, but he spoke again.

“I know more ’an ye think I do.”

She raised her brow in a challenge. “Then prove it, sir.”

He hesitated a moment longer, glancing around him before lowering his voice so only she could hear his words. “I know ye be lyin’ ’bout your memory. I know ye remembered Sennen long ’fore seein’ that note o’ yours in your belongin’s. And I know ye know exactly where ye came from ’fore swimmin’ in Tristwick’s waves.”

Morvoren tried to remain unaffected. After all, she’d known he’d suspected her of lying the entire time. And at least she knew now that he’d kept his suspicions to only his family, otherwise he would not have spoken so quietly.

With a raised chin and a dismissive smile, she responded. “Are ye always this skeptical, Mr. Honeysett? Or do ye merely act this way ’cause I slapped ye for takin’ advantage of I?”

A line formed between his eyebrows as he frowned. He glanced around him again, as if to ensure no one else had heard her words. “I didn’t take advantage of ye. I was savin’ ye.”

She knew that as well as he did, but there was something so satisfying about getting under this man’s skin.

He closed his eyes in a clear attempt to calm down. “Ye can believe whate’er ye want to. So long as ye stop spreadin’ lies to young Jowan there.”

“Lies? Ye don’t know what I be sayin’ was—”

“Ye were tellin’ ’im ye be a mermaid.”

Oh. So he had heard. She gave a lift of her shoulder. “What do it matter what he thinks? ’Tain’t no harm done.”

“No ’arm? Ye be intimidatin’ me crew so greatly they be afeared of ye callin’ a great storm down upon we.”

She sniffed out a laugh. “Would that I could do such.”

“I be serious, Miss ’Ollow.” Though frustration still lingered with his frown, he spoke more earnestly. “Our liveli’ood be at stake.”

Morvoren wanted to accuse him of exaggerating, of thinking of only himself and his own plight. But the concern in his eyes was apparent, and it made Morvoren pause. It made her feel.

But she didn’t want to feel, especially for a fisherman. She wanted to remain indifferent, to maintain her lack of interest in the trade. But every time she spoke with the Honeysetts—especially this Honeysett—she found herself considering their perspective more than…

No. She wouldn’t allow her mind to stray further. She was finished with this conversation.

With an impatient huff, she took her cane in hand and placed it in front of her to help her stand. Gripping the handle, she heaved herself up on one foot, certain she was secure enough. But when the end of the cane sank farther into the sand with her weight pressed upon it, she tipped to the side, instantly using her injured foot to catch herself.

With a sharp intake of breath, she crumpled toward the ground, wincing in pain and bracing for the impact of her fall. Instead of the sand catching her, however, Mr. Honeysett’s strong hands wrapped around her upper arms and steadied her in an instant.