Which was all the time, lately. She could all but see her sister’s perfect face looking at her in utter dismay, hear her voice saying, “For heaven’s sake, Elizabeth, can’t you just be a proper young lady for a day in your life?”
Mabena’s sigh joined the wind jostling them for elbow space at the rail, and she leaned closer until their shoulders just brushed. “You know it isn’t that I don’t want to be so informal, my lady. It’s just that it would be so easy to do that I honestly do fear I’d forget myself when we go back again. And I don’t relish losing this position when your mum or brother realize we’re friends. We walk a fine enough line as it is.”
She knew that. She did. As indulgent as Mama was about the microscope and slides and endless supply of sketchbooks, she wouldn’t budge on some things—the lines between the classes high on the list. Loyalty and some affection between a lady’s maid and a lady was acceptable. Friendship was something else. Friendship required equality, and that she’d never grant.
Were she a braver girl, Libby would defy that unspoken dictate and argue the point. She’d declare that she didn’t care who Mabena’s parents were or where she was from, they were friends and that was that. They understood each other. Shared a fascination with the natural world—something Libby couldn’t claim about any of the gentlemen’s daughters she knew. While they recoiled in horror at a worm or an insect, she leaned in for a closer look. They were too different.
In those ways, Mabena was much more like her. But in others, they were different too. She did need to protect her position—something Libby never had to worry about. She’d better remember that and help her guard it. With a matching sigh, Libby nodded.
“Now, you needn’t look so sad, my lady. St. Mary’s is one of the prettiest places on earth, and you’re going to have a fine time cataloguing every creature and plant you can find. Don’t worry so over a trifle like what name I’ll call you.” Mabena’s eyes, when Libby looked over at her, flashed with laughter. “Perhaps I’ll just take up calling you Mea Domina. That’s your Latin designation, isn’t it?”
Libby laughed and then leaned over the rail again to watch the world swimming by beneath them. Not that she could see much through the froth of their wake, but the glimpses were fascinating. She ought to have convinced her family to spend more time at the seashore. How lucky Mabena was to have grown up with such variety of life at her fingertips. “I’m looking forward to meeting your family. They’ll be there to greet the ferry, right?”
“Ah . . .” Mabena cleared her throat in a way Libby had never heard her do before. She lifted her gaze from the water to her friend’s face. It had a strange look upon it. A bit sheepish. A bit . . . guilty? “It was a friend of mine who sent that telegram, my lady, not my mother. My family’s all on Tresco. We’ll be summering on St. Mary’s. Not that the two aren’t close enough to go between—by boat—and I’m sure you will meet them, but they’re not down the lane as I led your mother to believe.”
“Then why . . . ?” She didn’t even know what to ask. Where to begin. She felt no stab of anxiety over realizing there wouldn’t be a family a few paces away to see to her comfort and care—that hardly mattered. But hadn’t Mabena’s idea for a visit sprung from the desire to see her family again?
“Tresco’s too small to support as many tourists. We’d never have found a place to let there at such a late date.” The twinkle returned to Mabena’s dark eyes. “And besides—there’s a reason I left the isles. Being near family is all well and good, but being able to breathe without them asking if you find the air satisfactory has its merits too. A bit of distance between us and them will be a good thing.”
She could hardly argue with that, given her reasons for wanting this holiday. Perhaps Mabena had a brother like Bram. Not that she’d ever mentioned any siblings. Or really spoken much of her family at all, come to think of it.
“We’ve nearly two and a half hours on the ferry. Why don’t we find a place to sit? You can get out a sketchbook.”
An obvious ploy, but given the beauty surrounding them, she decided to let herself be redirected. There would be plenty of time over the summer to pry a bit more information out of her maid. For now, it was enough to soak in this new world surrounding her. And easy enough to get lost in it.
She’d filled three pages with sketches of the birds and fish she glimpsed and was putting down a rough image of the Isles of Scilly themselves, emerging from the sea, when they chugged into St. Mary’s Sound. She closed her book and tucked it and her pencil back into her bag as Mabena pointed to the sights visible from their course.
“That opening there is Porthellick Bay. And there, that giant pile of rocks—that’s Giant’s Castle.”
Libby’s lips turned up at the whimsy.
The narration continued with a list of names Libby would never be able to keep straight, at least not until she’d explored them for herself. Finally, they docked at the quay in Hugh Town with a whistle and a clang of the bell.
Mabena patted her arm. “Just sit tight for a moment, my lady, while I direct them on what to do with our trunks. I’ve arranged transport for those, but we’ll walk to the cottage through the town from here. I thought you’d enjoy that.”
“Perfect.” And indeed it was. She happily sat and soaked in the bustle until Mabena signaled her to debark, and then she happily strolled through the quaint little seaside town by her maid’s side, trying to catalogue absolutely everything she saw. Squat little houses of granite, flowering shrubs hugging their corners. Shops with darling little signs dangling outside them, proclaiming the wares within. Oceanic birds swooping and calling overhead.
It only got better when they left the town behind and took to the road meandering along the seashore. Grasses bent in the steady wind, and she spotted heather unlike any she’d seen before. Rocks cropped up here and there, promising ample places to sit when she explored. And the sky overhead stretched blue and promising.
Soon, cottages came into view, their sizes varying. Near the larger ones she spotted families of obvious wealth, playing at a seaside holiday. From these she averted her face and hoped against hope that Mama was wrong and none of them would recognize her.
Mabena pulled a folded slip of paper from her pocket and, fighting the wind at every step, opened it. She checked something about their surroundings, though Libby had spotted no road sign to tell them where they were, but her maid nodded and pointed toward a lovely small cottage at the end of the lane. “There we are. Our home for the rest of the summer.”
Was there something odd in her voice, or was the distortion just from the wind? Libby put it out of her mind for now and focused on the granite building abutting the old garrison wall that her friend indicated. The location was ideal—they’d have views of the other islands, the water, and the town down below. Even from here she could spot a path to the water through the high grasses. And best of all, there were no other houses sharing walls or gardens. She’d have privacy to do whatever she pleased.
As they neared, she spotted a woman of middling years rounding the corner, shielding her eyes from the sun to watch them approach.