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That was most definitely Mr. Honeysett. Did that mean that the woman speaking was the same as the one at his side the evening before, his sweetheart?

“I enjoyed listenin’ to ye sing,” the woman continued.

Morvoren raised a brow with an amused smile, her worries easing. Their voices were right upon her, yet there was no sight of Mr. Honeysett or the woman. They must have taken the upper pathway.

“Thank ye, Mary,” Trevik responded.

“Ye ’ave such a fine voice,” Mary continued.

“Ah, ye be flatterin’ I.”

“No, I be in earnest, Trevik. One o’ the best I’ve e’er ’eard.”

Did he truly have a nice singing voice, or was the woman flirting? Morvoren hadn’t heard him amidst all the others last night.

Mr. Honeysett didn’t respond for a moment. “Well, y-your voice be fine and fitty, too.”

Morvoren pressed a hand over her mouth to stop her laughter. Was that the best he could do at mustering a compliment? It was so forced, so rigid.

“Per’aps we might sing together, then,” Mary suggested. “Me father wishes to invite ye for a meal at our ’ome soon. Would ye like that?”

The voices didn’t fade away. Had they stopped directly above Morvoren? Slowly, she peered forward, the inclined cliffside above her revealing Mr. Honeysett’s white sleeve billowing from the breeze.

She pulled back to avoid being seen and continued listening to their conversation, feeling only slight remorse for imposing.

“Thank ye,” Mr. Honeysett responded. “That’d be nice to spend more time with your family. And…and yourself.”

His voice sounded as if ready to snap. Was this because he didn’t wish for the woman’s attention, or because he didn’t know how to give her attention in return?

“I’ll speak with Father, then,” Mary said. “I best be off, though. Thank ye for walkin’ with I. I know ye be a busy man. I don’t know ’ow ye do it all.”

Morvoren blew out a puff of air at the woman’s exhausting flattery.

“’Tis no trouble walkin’ with ye, ’course,” Mr. Honeysett responded, his words dripping with discomfort. “I enjoy the time we spend together…’course.”

“Ain’t ye sweet, Trevik.”

Silence followed, and Morvoren leaned her head against the cliffside in sheer anguish. Just say goodbye to the girl. End the agony already.

“I look forward to seein’ ye again,” he finally said.

Then footsteps shifted above.

Thank heavens.

Morvoren leaned forward, spotting a glimpse of the woman’s skirts as she descended the pathway. Was Mr. Honeysett watching Mary depart, as well?

With a curious gaze, she shifted farther along the boulder until she spotted Mr. Honeysett staring out at the sea instead of Mary. He ran a hand through his hair with an agitated expression.

Morvoren remained where she was until his surprised gaze met hers, and his hand dropped to his side.

“Mornin’,” she greeted in a chipper tone.

His gaze narrowed, his cheeks shifting to a shade of red. “’Ow long ’ave ye been there?”

Morvoren grinned. “Long enough.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN