“Turnabout, then. If it was your book she wrote in.”
He liked the way good humor brought a lift to her alto voice. It made another smile tickle his lips, though thinking of Beth and strange letters by unknown carriers and odd writing in his book made him too aware of the heaviness.
Mamm-wynn had been right. Beth wasn’t where she ought to be. And yet here was something delivered to her. Well, let her box his ears for opening it, since it would mean appearing again to achieve the feat. He used a finger as a letter opener and ripped the top of the envelope. Peered inside, breath caught. Drew out . . .
A letter. “It’s about the cannonball.”
Lady Elizabeth had made no show of not watching him read. Her nose was scrunched, brows drawn together. “Does it say anything helpful?”
“I don’t know if it’s helpful or not. It says, ‘What we can verify for you is that it is indeed an eighteen-pound shot and that few ships that used Scilly as a base in the era in question were so equipped. But there is no way to verify the exact year or the exact ship, so it’s of no interest. Please focus upon the items in the Canary’s manifest.’” Oliver blinked at the page. “Manifest? Have you come across anything resembling a ship’s manifest?” And what was the Canary? He couldn’t recall any stories of a ship by that name, though that hardly meant anything.
Lady Elizabeth caught her lip between her teeth and shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen. Unless there’s one written on something in invisible ink.” She topped her jest with a crooked, uncertain smile.
“Mm.” He grinned back. “Probably unwise to put every paper in the house to a flame to test it. I don’t fancy burning up everything—that’s what happened last time I tried such a trick.” And his mother hadn’t been exactly pleased with him when he’d dropped the candle in shock and burned a hole in her favorite tablecloth either.
“You’ve used invisible ink?”
At the note of pleasant wonder in her voice, Oliver’s grin grew. “With Beth and our brother, Morgan. We were pretending we were pirate princes—and princess—evading our archnemesis in port.”
Her frown twitched a bit at the word princess, but she banished it with a wistful smile. “What fun you must have had.”
Why the wistfulness? “You’ve a sister, haven’t you? And a brother, of course.”
And like pollen on the breeze, her wonder blew right off her face. “Edith never liked the same games I did. Nor, for that matter, did Bram. They played together, but I was always left behind, it seemed.”
Mother never let him and Morgan get away with neglecting Beth—try as they might. “And so you went outside and made a friend of nature instead.”
The way she blinked up at him, clearing the memories from her eyes, said his observation startled her—at least for a moment. Then she relaxed again, even smiling. “I suppose I did. Well.” As if finally realizing how close to him she sat, she scooted away and motioned to a few other items on the table. “I haven’t yet had time to go through all these, but I found them in my room with the other things. I thought at first they were just part of the furnishings, but are they your sister’s?”
Glancing over the collection of papers and books, he could only say the truth. “I have no idea.” Before he could suggest they thumb through it all together, the door gusted open.
And the wind herself blew in.
6
Mabena blew inside with a stiff sea breeze that had won the battle with a few of her hairpins. She summoned a laugh to her lips, ready to deliver it on cue to Libby, if she were inside, though it was entirely possible she was out enjoying the afternoon on the island.
The laughter died on her lips when her quick scan delivered not only Libby on the sofa, but Oliver Tremayne himself. She pushed shut the door and mentally scrambled for what she meant to say—to each of them together, and separately. She’d thought she’d have another day or two to decide on what story to give them both. But here they were.
“Mr. Tremayne. What a pleasant surprise.”
Apparently not the story Ollie had been expecting her to tell, given she’d never in her life addressed him as “mister” anything. And the arch of his brow called her on it—though he turned said arch toward her alone so that Libby couldn’t see it. He might not approve of her decisions, but he wouldn’t take her to task in front of an outsider. “Miss Moon. How lovely to see you again. I had no idea you were coming home for the summer.”
She heard the accusation as clearly as she would the bells in St. Mary’s tower come Sunday. She could only hope Libby didn’t. “Lady Elizabeth needed a holiday. Didn’t you, my lady? And I told her there was no lovelier place in all of England than the Scillies.”
Libby didn’t look particularly suspicious. Just curious, which was nearly as bad. “Mr. Tremayne’s sister seems to be missing, Moon. Beth—she was staying here before us. It was her things we found. Do you know her? Well, of course you know her. I mean . . .”
Mabena’s heart might as well have stopped beating. Oliver knew, then? That Beth had vanished into thin air? She hadn’t counted on that either. She’d rather hoped she’d be able to poke around a bit without alarming him or his grandmother. Without shining a light on whatever secrets Beth had been hiding.
Hiding from him. From everyone here. When Mabena blinked, she could see those hastily scrawled words. “I don’t know what Ollie would say if he knew, but it wouldn’t be good. I can’t let him find out.”
Mabena hadn’t a clue what Beth didn’t want him to know. But still, it was a trust. And she’d not break it. Not now, at any rate, when the answers to Beth’s whereabouts could be simple.
She pasted on a look of mild concern that she moved between the two on the sofa. “Beth Tremayne is the Elizabeth who Mrs. Pepper was so put out with? But that makes precious little sense. What was your sister doing here for the summer instead of at her own home, sir?”
His nostrils flared the slightest bit at that sir, and he cleared his throat. “That is what Lady Elizabeth and I were just trying to discern—because clearly she was about something more than the holiday she said she wanted.” He motioned to the table.
Mabena frowned at it while she unpinned her hat. “What’s all this, then?”
Libby pushed to her feet. “There are a few other things I’d like to check too, in my room. I don’t know if they were Beth’s or just came with the house. Mr. Tremayne can tell you what we know while I look—and put away my microscope.”
“Microscope?” Oliver stood, being too much of a gentleman to do otherwise. Though with an eagerness that said he might just leave Mabena to inform herself while he went to investigate the lady’s toy.
Had the lady not been there, Mabena would have laughed out a “Down, boy,” as if he were the wolfhound he’d had as a lad.
Perhaps he heard her silent jest even through her still lips, because he glanced her way and relaxed. A bit.
Libby was already angled toward the bedrooms. “The light isn’t very good for its mirror out here right now, but I can bring it too, if you like. Not that it will help us with the question of your sister, but . . .”