“What? But of course she did! Where else could she have gone? I watched her for a good five minutes, and she was clearly going in the direction of Tresco.”
In lieu of a reply, Oliver shook his head, the muscle in his jaw ticking. He was likely clenching his teeth in that way he did when it took everything in him not to respond to something. Usually one of Casek’s taunts. He let go of her hand.
Mrs. Pepper lifted her newly freed fingers, shaking, to her lips. “But—no. The weather’s been fine, the currents normal. She was too able a sailor to get lost or go astray or get caught out, otherwise I never would have countenanced her going round alone as she did. Nothing bad could have happened to her. Not like your parents. Or Johnnie.”
Not like your parents. Or Johnnie. The Tremaynes, who had also known the tides and currents and weather as well as any other Scillonian but had still been caught out in a storm and drowned. Johnnie, who had known the dangers but had slipped on the wet rocks of the cave, presumably, and taken a fatal fall. Just two of many tragedies to steal the islands’ people in her memory.
With the greatest of care, Mabena uncurled each finger from her palm. There was no need to assume the worst. Not given that letter, opaque as it might be when it came to Beth’s reasons for going. The going was still part of her plan. As was coming back. Soon. Any day, given the timing. “A few weeks” was up, or nearly. And if she’d left with a boatload of things but those things weren’t the items she’d brought here, they were likely supplies. Food, necessities. Beth, wherever she was, was well provisioned. She was fine.
They just had to be patient for a little bit longer.
Though it must have cost him dearly, Oliver summoned a smile to his lips. “She’s off on an adventure, no doubt. That’s what the summer was meant to be for her. But I didn’t realize she’d left you without notice—and didn’t pay her rent, I assume?” He motioned toward Libby, who jumped a bit at the sudden attention.
Mrs. Pepper turned to her as if just remembering she was there. “Oh. Yes, I’m afraid so. And when Miss Sinclair contacted me inquiring about vacancies . . . well, as I said, I was a bit peevish at your sister’s abrupt departure. I’m sorry for that.”
“Quite all right. Beth clearly isn’t using the place, so Lady Elizabeth might as well.” Oliver motioned next to the odd assortment on the table. “I’ll just collect the rest of her things, I suppose. The lady informed me she’d left a bit in the drawers.”
Mrs. Pepper’s gaze flew between Libby and the belonging-strewn table. “Lady—forgive me, my lady, I had no idea!”
Libby sighed. Had she been a bit more like Mabena, she would have sent Oliver a glare for letting her secret slip. Though how she really expected to keep her family a secret for long, Mabena still wasn’t certain. As it was, however, Libby chased the sigh with a small smile. “There is nothing to forgive, ma’am.”
“Oh, but—allow me to help.” Mrs. Pepper bent, hoisted the basket again, and bustled toward the little kitchen. She still didn’t so much as glance at Mabena. “Shall I whip you up something for your meal?”
“No, no. We can see to it ourselves. You needn’t bother—”
“It’s hardly a bother to help, Lady Elizabeth. Won’t take me but a few minutes. The good vicar can entertain you while I work.”
The good vicar looked caught between amusement at suddenly going from guest to host and concern at the focus moving so quickly from Beth. He transferred that all-seeing gaze of his to Mabena again. “Would you fetch the clothing she left? Lady Elizabeth said you’d already moved it to your room.”
The idea made her shoulder blades edge together. There had been some comfort in having Beth’s clothing there, mingled among her own. “Are you going to carry it all about St. Mary’s with you while you visit Mr. Gale and the Peppers?”
“A valid point. I’ll have to come back for it all.” He looked out the window, toward the lowering sun. “In fact, I’d better be on my way or I’ll never have time to pay those visits and make it home before dark.” He turned to them again, darting a look at Mrs. Pepper.
The old biddy was so busy poking about in the kitchen that she didn’t even notice that she’d inconvenienced him.
“Well, you needn’t entertain us. Sir.” Mabena tried to keep her smile casual. Helpful even. She just wasn’t certain she managed it.
Oliver sighed. “I know. It’s just . . .” He surveyed the strange collection on the table again. And this time, it was she who could read his mind. It was just that Beth was gone, and he had no idea of where or how to find her. No idea if she was truly in trouble or merely chasing a lark. No idea if he should let her do whatever it was she meant to do or scour every inch of every island looking for her.
Perhaps Libby had been able to read those thoughts as easily as Mabena had. She edged forward, the slope of her shoulders hinting at her usual bashfulness, but determination bringing roses to her cheeks. “Don’t worry, Mr. Tremayne. We’ll help you find her. Won’t we, Moon?”
Mabena nodded and turned a bit more toward Oliver—a bit more away from Mrs. Pepper, who’d spun at the familiar surname. “Of course we will.”
Oliver’s smile was small and sad. “I appreciate that. But you’re here for a holiday, my lady. Enjoy your time. This needn’t be your concern. Wherever she is, my sister has proven she’s quite capable of taking care of herself.”
Libby’s chin edged up a bit. “I believe it was made my concern when people mistook me for your sister. It could well happen again, you know. I’m involved—let me help.”
He must have heard that underlying note in her voice as clearly as Mabena did. The one that said no one ever let her help with anything, and she craved it. Craved being useful—in something real, not just one of the dressed-up causes her mother championed that was more about parading around in a fancy hat and being seen making a difference than about actually making a difference.
Ollie, of course, was helpless against such a plea. He didn’t have it in him to deny anyone the chance to do good—at least not unless that someone’s last name was Wearne. “I will certainly welcome your assistance then, my lady. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your holiday.”
Libby’s smile was somehow both bright and sympathetic as she folded her hands before her. In that moment she looked like what her family had always begged her to be—a demure young lady capable of putting anyone at ease. “I assure you, sir. It is no inconvenience at all.”
And that, it seemed, settled it. Mabena didn’t know whether to be glad that she now had her employer’s approval for any poking about she wanted to do . . . or to resent the fact that her quest was no longer her own.
Ollie saw himself out, and Mabena went to her room to gather Beth’s clothes. With the shawl wrapped around her hands, she decided it didn’t matter how she felt about it. The only thing in the world that mattered was finding Beth.
7
Blessed sunshine greeted Libby on Friday morning when she rose, bringing a smile to her lips and making her jump from bed and fly to the window. She pushed up the sash, breathing in the scents of salt and green life and a world washed clean by the rain she’d been none too happy with yesterday. It had pounded the island all day, keeping her in when all she really wanted was to be out. After Mrs. Pepper left the other evening, Libby had insisted Mabena sit down with her so they could write up a plan, and most of that plan included tasks that required going about St. Mary’s asking after the missing Beth Tremayne. Not sitting at home twiddling their thumbs.