14

Try as Libby might to focus on the new list of Latin names that needed to be applied to her catalogue of flora for St. Mary’s, her gaze kept wandering away from her notebook and to the two envelopes resting on the table.

The first had been delivered yesterday afternoon by another anonymous chap asking for Elizabeth. They hadn’t opened it, tempted as Mabena had clearly been. They would wait for Oliver to arrive, which he ought to be doing any moment. The second had come in the morning post, and Mama’s familiar script had lured Libby into tearing it open straightaway.

She rather wished now that she’d held it for later. She’d expected her mother’s usual cheer, perhaps even a note of thanks for doing as she instructed and attending the Wights’ dinner party. She hadn’t expected the rebuke that kept battering now at her mind.

Did you truly only stay forty minutes, Libby? Mrs. Wight’s note sounded most distraught—she was afraid they had offended you somehow. Is that not exactly what I have warned you countless times will happen if you do not make an effort to engage with your peers? I know it is difficult for you. But you must try, dearest. For your own good, you must.

And while I know you will not want to hear this, I find myself compelled to say it: Perhaps you should seriously consider your brother’s arrangement with Lord Sheridan. I know you wanted the summer away so that he might “come to his senses” and argue with Bram—but I do secretly hope that instead, you will give it some thought and come home in September ready to make the betrothal official. For all your clashes, Sheridan would not mind your eccentricities. He would indulge your preference for country life. He would respect you. I can think of no better match for you, dearest.

No better match? Libby gripped her pencil with far too much force. How could her own mother think that? Did she deserve—could she hope for—no better than a man who would simply tolerate her for his friend’s sake?

She squeezed her eyes shut. What would she do if Sheridan didn’t object? If she went home at the end of summer and the situation was exactly how she’d left it? No, if it was worse. By then, Bram and Sheridan could have spoken to far too many people about their ridiculous agreement. And how in the world would she muster the gumption to argue with everyone?

Darling leapt onto the table, batted at the envelope for Beth, and gave a loud meow when Libby picked him up and deposited him back on the floor. Even she had her limits, and kittens on the same surface where she ate pushed beyond them.

As did mothers suddenly taking the side of brothers. But how could she resolve that one?

The knock at the door interrupted those morose thoughts, and she jumped to her feet even as she called out, “Come in!”

Most of the gentlemen she knew would still wait for someone to open the door for them, but Oliver took her at her word and let himself inside with his usual smile. “Good morning, my lady.”

Mabena surged out of her room with a scowl. “It’s about time.”

He lifted his brows. “Am I late? It’s scarcely nine thirty.”

“She’s been a bit impatient.” With Mama’s words still fresh in her mind, Libby expected to have to dig for a smile. But it came easily to her lips as she motioned toward the envelope on the table. “I insisted we wait for you before we opened it.”

Oliver’s lips twitched. “You’re a brave soul, Lady Elizabeth.”

“Here.” Mabena snatched up the envelope and thrust it toward him. “It’s a fat one, but small. Doesn’t seem like it would include pages of manifests again.”

With an amused calm that surely covered his worry over his sister, Oliver joined them at the table and took the envelope. He opened it, withdrew the single sheet of paper inside, and frowned as he unfolded it. It took Libby only a moment to see why as a pile of pound notes slipped into his hand.

“Money?” He sounded utterly baffled. “Looks like . . . a hundred pounds.”

“What does the note say?” Not that Mabena waited for him to read it. She simply moved to his side to read it over his shoulder.

Tempted as Libby was to do the same, she made herself remain in her place. Mama’s voice was still too fresh in her mind and would be scolding her for unseemly enthusiasm in a gentleman’s company.

Thankfully, Oliver satisfied her curiosity. “It says, ‘Since you never answered as to whether you’d prefer a wire or a bank draft in exchange for the artifact, please find the cash enclosed.’ That’s all. No signature, as usual.”

Mabena’s brows were knit as tightly as Mamm-wynn’s shawls. “That’s a lot of money. But for what? What artifact?”

Oliver shook his head. “Clearly Beth found something.” Eyes alight, he refolded the money into the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. “I’ve gone back through everything I can find from the weeks before she declared her intentions of summering on St. Mary’s. I’ve never bothered with a detailed calendar of engagements, but Mamm-wynn has always been meticulous about such things, and she allowed me to check her records. She had jotted down everywhere Beth mentioned going.”

Mabena’s frown didn’t ease any. “Since when does your grandmother track your every move?”

“She doesn’t.” Oliver chuckled. “But she did mention what Beth brought back with her, and from where. You know Beth always brought her a little something—a flower or a pretty rock or a feather.” His gaze moved to Libby. “She’s been doing that ever since we were children.”

Libby couldn’t help but smile. “That’s very sweet.”

“And handy, in this case. It seems that just before she got this notion of a holiday in her head, she was spending quite a lot of time on the uninhabited islands. Perhaps she found something related to Mucknell on one of them.”

Mabena blew out a breath. “Which one though?”

“I think we ought to start at Teän. I recall the day she went there—we were having dinner guests that night, and she was annoyingly late getting home.”

Libby had studied a map of the islands enough to know that Teän was quite near to Tresco, so it wouldn’t have been the sailing that had taken Beth long. “It’s one of the larger uninhabited isles, isn’t it?”

Oliver nodded and glanced at the clock on the mantel. “And a fair distance from St. Mary’s, so if we do want to explore it today, we had better be off.”

Libby all but bounced. “Let’s! I’ll just grab my bag.” In it she’d already stowed everything she’d wished she’d had with her on Monday, when Mabena had taken her to a nearer uninhabited island called Annet. Pipettes, slides, pincers, and a fully stocked field kit joined her ever-present sketchbook, notebook, pencils, and pens.

While she was grabbing her bag, she checked to make certain Darling had ample food in his dish, smiling when he dashed into her room and under her bed the moment they moved for the door. It seemed that outside was the last place he wanted to go, now that he’d found an indoor home.

Mabena passed her a hat and locked up behind them. She and Oliver were debating which sailboat they should take, the Mermaid or the Adelle, and Libby was content to let them fight that one without her input. She didn’t much care which vessel took them there; she was simply happy to have a day of exploring ahead of her.

“Well, what luck! Lady Elizabeth, we were hoping to run into you.”

It took her a moment to place the voice. And frankly, she didn’t quite manage it until she’d turned around and spotted Lord Willsworth and Mr. Bryant striding toward them on the street.

Blast and bother. She summoned a smile to her lips, but this one required effort. “Oh, good morning, my lord. Have you met Mr. Tremayne, the vicar from Tresco, yet? And this is my maid, Miss Moon.”

Perhaps she took a bit too much pleasure in introducing her maid to the viscount. Not that he did more than nod in their direction and say, “Oh, quite right. I was at St. Mary’s the day you filled in for Mr. Gale, sir. How do you do?”

Oliver had scarcely returned the greeting before Willsworth faced her again. “We’ve just booked a boat for the day to take us to Bryher—we mean to explore the cairnfields. We hoped to convince you and Miss Wight to join us.”

“Oh.” For a moment, Libby could only blink at him. Never in her life had a gentleman invited her on an outing for no good reason. Perhaps she hadn’t managed to scare him off fully at the dinner party after all. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved—Mama would certainly be pleased to learn it—or sorry. All she knew was that she had no desire to exchange her current plans for his. “How kind of you to think of me. Perhaps if you had found me sooner, but I’m afraid I’ve already made plans to explore a different island.” She lifted her bag in proof. “I’m cataloguing the flora, you see.”

She didn’t mention which island she’d set her sights on today. One never knew when a gentleman might decide to alter his own plans to be “accommodating.” It was just the sort of thing Bram would do, if for no other reason than to needle her when he knew she wanted solitude.

“And if you mean to make it back to St. Mary’s this evening, my lady, we had better hurry on our way.” Mabena used the same tone of voice she had always employed at Telford Hall—demure, respectful, but knowledgeable. Only upon hearing it again did Libby realize she’d not since they arrived. And that she hadn’t missed it, though it was convenient now.

She dipped her head. “Of course, Miss Moon. I certainly don’t want to be stranded on a rock for the night. Have a lovely day, my lord. Mr. Bryant. Perhaps another time?”

Not giving them time to answer—or invite themselves along—Libby spun and hurried along the cobblestones.

Thankfully, they didn’t follow, though a peek over her shoulder a minute later verified that they were still standing where she’d left them.

Oliver chuckled beside her. “I do believe you put a crimp in their plans, my lady. His lordship looked quite disappointed.”

Which would probably last all of a minute before he remembered what a dunce she’d been at the dinner party. “He’ll recover. Now, what should we be looking for on Teän?”

“Ideally, pirate silver.” Mabena sounded doubtful even as she said it. “Though I’d settle for evidence of Beth’s having found something there.”

Libby pursed her lips. They could perhaps expect evidence of it if someone had been digging or had removed something—but how would they know it was Beth and not someone else? Or even an animal? There was no shortage of wild creatures on the islands, much to her delight.

It was a question they debated as they made the journey to the small island between St. Martin’s and Tresco. They hadn’t really come to any solid conclusions by the time they waded to shore, but it hardly mattered. They would simply keep their eyes open, explore everything they could, and hope to come across something that would provide a clue.

Once Libby’s feet were on dry sand and she’d put her shoes on again, she turned to survey the grassy hills and rock outcroppings with a grateful breath. Though it lasted only a moment. “Looks as though we’re not the only ones here.” She should have expected as much, she supposed. Other holiday-goers hopped all about the islands, courtesy of the locals and their boats.

But Oliver and Mabena both frowned when they followed her pointing finger to the blue sails barely visible over the land, clearly belonging to a boat anchored at another beach.

“The Hills’ boat,” Mabena muttered. “Have they hired it out?”

“Not that I’ve heard.” Oliver’s voice carried a note she’d had yet to hear from him—a bit stern, a bit resigned. “No, I suspect it’s Perry, who ought to be at school, not gallivanting about Teän. And no doubt he has a Grimsby brother or two with him.”

Mabena laughed. “I did my fair share of playing truant on a fine day. Third term was always the worst.”

“Mm.” Oliver sighed. “Come on. Let’s see where they are.”

Libby followed them through the sand and into the grass. The walking was easier than it had been on Annet, which was littered with rocks and holes that were entrances to the underground nests of the seabirds. And she spotted dozens of plant varieties she had yet to catalogue.

Teän had a few ruins she wanted to explore, in addition to her nature hunting. An abandoned cottage, an early chapel, a Bronze Age cairn . . . and they seemed to be walking past one such structure even now. No doubt, because the sound of adolescent voices was coming from within the tumbling walls.

Walls that were covered in a lichen she’d never seen elsewhere in England. Really, everything here was simply remarkable. Different lichen, different bracken, different heather—a whole new world! She could spend a lifetime cataloguing and still never list it all.

“How are we even supposed to know what he was looking for, Perry?” The young voice came from behind the lichen-covered stones, and it sounded none too happy.

An exasperated huff replied, “I don’t know, all right? But he was here the day before he died.”

“So? I bet he also visited the loo. Do we need to investigate that?”

“Yeah, Nick.” Perry’s voice sounded exasperated in the extreme. “That was going to be my next suggestion.”

“About as useful,” said a third voice that sounded much like Nick’s, only a trifle higher.

Mabena and Oliver were creeping silently around the corner, perhaps aimed for a door or something. Libby had no idea what might be on the adjacent wall. She stepped a little closer to the stones, though, fishing into her bag with one hand. A scraping of the lichen would only take a second, and her friends certainly didn’t need her to confront lads she’d never even met. She would just—

A scream spilled from her lips when her next step met air instead of ground. Her foot had found a hole that went deep enough that she sank up to her knee, her ankle twisting as it jammed into the uneven bottom. Worst of all, her satchel took the full brunt of her weight as she caught herself on the ground, and something cracked within it. Slides? Her magnifying glass?

“My lady!” Oliver dropped to his knees at her side a moment later, his face contorted with concern and his hands gripping her elbows to steady her. “Are you all right?”

“More surprised than anything.” The initial throb in her ankle was already dulling. Or else it was just fully eclipsed by the far pleasanter sensation of his hands on her arms, his face so close to hers. Bother, but she didn’t know what to do with these feelings he inspired in her. Or why in the world she was debating it when knee-deep in a hole. She ought to have been embarrassed, flustered by the situation more than that gleam in his eyes.

“Let me help you up.” He did so with ease, levering her back to the foot still on solid ground. But he didn’t let go. Perhaps because he was conscious of how carefully she put her abused foot down. Perhaps—dare she hope it?—because he enjoyed the nearness too.

Given the way his gaze brushed over her face and lingered a moment on her mouth, she could convince herself of that.

“Are you certain you’re all right?” he whispered.

Never in her life had she been tempted to lie, to exaggerate a hurt, just to keep a gentleman closer. Lottie would be proud of her for entertaining such a thought even briefly. Which was enough to make her shake it away.

She plastered on a smile and flicked it from Oliver to Mabena, who had also hurried back. “Quite.”

The lads dashed around the corner too, looking stricken and pale. “What happened?” Perry’s voice asked. She could see now that said voice belonged to the boy clearly not related to the other two, who looked enough alike to have been twins, if they weren’t four inches apart in height.

Someone must have raised these lads right. Had it been schoolboy-aged Bram and Sheridan caught adventuring when they should have been in class, they’d have run the other direction upon hearing another voice, not come to make certain all was well.

She rewarded them with a smile for their concern. “Just found a hole with my foot. A burrow of some kind, no doubt.”

“That’s no burrow.” Though he toed the hole, Oliver kept an arm around her that warmed her far more than the summer sun. “Look. The edges are square.”

The lads surged around Mabena and crouched down beside the hole. It wasn’t large—just big enough for her unfortunate foot—and grass had crept over the edge, which surely meant it had been dug a while ago. “Bet Johnnie dug it,” Perry said.

The taller of the brothers snorted. “It could have been anyone, Perry. Any time.”

It could have been Beth. That was surely what Oliver and Mabena were thinking. But how could they ever know?

Oliver cleared his throat and put a stern expression onto his face, though the boys could no doubt see as easily as she did that it was more obligatory than meant. “And what exactly are you three doing here when you ought to be at school? What would Mr. Wearne say if he knew you were here?”

Whether they saw his mixed feelings or not, they reacted as any lad would when faced with the consequences for his truancy. Their faces morphed immediately into pleas. “Aw, come on, Mr. Tremayne! You won’t tell him, will you?”

“We’ll head right back. We promise!”

“It was such a beautiful day. . . .”

Oliver just lifted his brows. Given the twitching at the corners of his mouth, she suspected he said no more simply to keep laughter from his voice.

The lads huffed out matching sighs and pushed back to their feet, shoulders sagging. The taller of the brothers muttered, “We’ll just get back, then.”

“You certainly will,” Mabena put in with gusto, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “And you can be certain we’ll be watching those blue sails of yours all the way back to Tresco. Now get on with you.”

The trio scuttled away, though the wind brought snatches of their murmuring to Libby’s ears.

“He wouldn’t . . . Mr. Wearne . . . don’t even like each other.”

“But she’s his girl!”

Libby sneaked a glance at Mabena to see what she thought about being known as Casek Wearne’s girl by the schoolchildren on Tresco, but she didn’t seem to be paying them any heed. She’d moved closer and was frowning down into the hole. “Did you see this, Oliver?”

“The hole?”

“No.” Mabena knelt down, reached into the hole, and came up with something thin and colorful dangling from her fingers. “Beth’s bracelet.”

“What?” Oliver took it from her, his arm drifting away from Libby’s back. An absence she felt like a blow. He flipped the beaded length over, fingering the frayed end with a frown. “No surprise it came off—she was losing it all the time. But it isn’t dirty. Not like it would be had it been in that hole for months, getting rained on and muddy.”

Mabena huffed. “And if it was coming off all the time, why didn’t she take it to Mam for fixing?” Her gaze flicked to Libby. “I made it for her—my first attempt, using my mother’s jewelry-making supplies. No surprise the clasp wasn’t as secure as it ought to have been, but Mam would have fixed it for her.”

So Mabena and Beth were good enough friends that her first jewelry-making attempt was a gift for her—another piece to the puzzle Mabena seemed set on keeping her from putting together. Libby made a mental note.

Oliver shrugged. “You know Beth. She hates to part with a trinket she loves, even for a short time.”

“And look where that’s got her.” Mabena took the bracelet back. “So, she was here recently then. Probably since the last rain. But the hole doesn’t look freshly dug, so she was investigating one she made earlier, or one someone else—perhaps Johnnie Rosedew—had put here.”

Libby stepped around the hole, only wincing a little when she put weight on her foot. The twinge was minor, really. She’d be right as rain in a few minutes. “So that leaves us . . . ?”

“Absolutely nowhere, other than certain Beth’s still about—as we more or less knew anyway.” Mabena huffed again. “Come on, then. Let’s see what else the island has to tell us.”

Oliver moved to Libby’s side and offered an arm, eyes twinkling. “For support, my lady? We don’t want you tumbling down any rabbit holes into Wonderland.”

She smiled and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. She didn’t need the support. And he hadn’t needed to offer. But he had, so she’d take it.

And she wouldn’t even investigate that cracking sound she’d heard from her bag. No sense in ruining the moment.