It took her a moment to even realize that “our lady” was the girl Oliver had claimed. She summoned a chuckle. “Keeping high company, are we?”
“Swimming in it! Our lady has been here all summer, and now we’ve her brother here—and his friend. Lord Sheridan.” Mrs. Gillis laughed. “High company and handsome too. Want to snag yourself a lord, Senara girl?”
She chuckled. “No lords for me. I try to steer clear of them.”
“Well, you’ll have a time of that. They’re both staying with the Tremaynes. There were no more places to let, you see.”
“Oh.” Her stomach tied itself up into a few dozen sailing knots—slip, hitch, and mariners, all rolled into one. She hadn’t counted on having to share space with strangers in these next few weeks. But visiting lords meant visiting valets, which meant Mam’s kitchen wouldn’t be the oasis of peace she’d hoped for. How was she to soothe away that prickling inside with a bunch of people she didn’t know always about, forcing her to keep on a mask of politeness?
Worse still—what if they were acquaintances of the Cliffords and somehow learned that she’d been sacked for moral turpitude? There’d be no hiding it then. Her parents would hear, and she’d have to face the disappointment in their eyes. The accusation. The condemnation.
She forced the cheer to stay fixed to her face and voice. “Well, then Mam ought to be glad for an extra set of hands.”
“I imagine so. Well, here’s my gate. Good to see you home again, Senara. How long this time? A week? Or a fortnight, perhaps?”
She’d already worked out how to tell it to her parents. But it didn’t seem quite right to say it first to a neighbor, before they knew. So, she kept her smile vague. “I’m not entirely certain yet.”
Mrs. Gillis snorted a laugh and lifted the latch to her gate. “Oh, to have the leisure to change your mind at a moment’s notice, aye? No doubt your employers will send you a wire and expect you at their beck and call by next morning.”
It had happened before. It wouldn’t this time, but the precedent allowed her to let the comment stand on its own two feet. She lifted a hand and kept walking. “Have a lovely day, Mrs. G.”
It was too much to ask, of course, that she see no other familiar faces on the remaining couple minutes of her walk. There were islanders out about their tasks everywhere, and they all lifted a shout and a hand to welcome her home. She smiled and returned each greeting, until her lips felt stretched thin and her ragged emotions were pounding at her chest like a prisoner.
She smelled home before she saw it. Baking bread and a myriad of blooms—that was what greeted a visitor approaching the Tremayne door. She breathed it in and let it beat back the war within her. Let her gaze take in the profusion of colors rioting around the fence, the trellis, the door. Some were chosen by her father, some by Mrs. Tremayne, others by Oliver. The only harmony here was the true, natural kind—notes in abundance, all shouting out for attention at the top of their lungs but kept in order by the same hands that had planted them with love.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, her father rounded the corner of the house, trowel in hand. He was a bit more stooped than he’d once been, and he moved more slowly. She knew very well that Oliver kept taking over more and more of the garden chores to relieve Tas’s aching back. But never so much that he felt useless. She’d thanked him for that, at Christmas. And he’d taken her elbow in that way he always did that made him such a natural vicar, looked directly into her eyes, and promised her that he loved her parents as he did his own family and would never suffer they be injured by either too much work or lack of it.
A good boy, Oliver Tremayne. Or, now, a fine man. She was proud to see what he’d grown into.
“Tas!”
At her call, her father stopped. He straightened, dropped the trowel, widened his eyes, and opened his arms. “Senara!”
He laughed, and so did she as she let her bag fall to the ground and raced into his embrace. His arms closed around her, hugging her tight. And he smelled, too, of bread and flowers and home, with a bit of earth thrown into the mix.
He was still laughing when he pulled away, sending his eyes over her from head to toe, as he always did when she came home. Cataloguing each feature as he did his plants. Black hair, still pulled back in a neat chignon. Tall frame, still sturdy and more square than curved. Good hands, still ready to correct posture or give comfort, whichever was needed. He’d see in a glance that she was the same Senara she’d always been.
And hopefully he wouldn’t look deep enough in her eyes to see anything more just yet. She kept her smile in place as a shield. “Surprise! I thought it would be fun to pay a visit, as I found myself in possession of the time. I hear we have guests? That Mam could use the extra hands?”
He planted a kiss on her forehead before nodding. “Lords Telford and Sheridan are here, along with their valets. Collins, Lord Telford’s man, is up at the house, so we’ve taken Sheridan’s man, Ainsley, into the spare room at our place. Though don’t worry—your room is still free, as always. Ready and waiting for you. And here you are! We didn’t dare hope to see you again until Michaelmas.”
Ainsley. Why did that sound familiar? The lord’s name didn’t, so it couldn’t be that they’d been guests together at Cliffenwelle. What, then?
Her mind was too tired from the long journey and the whirlwind preceding it to sort it out.
But never mind. Whoever this Ainsley was, he wasn’t going to ruin the first moments with her parents. She refocused on what Tas had said. “I didn’t dare hope it either, hence why I didn’t say anything.” She backtracked for her bag. “Is Mam in the kitchen, then? I’ll say hello and then take my things home and tidy myself up. I’ve been traveling forever.”
Tas was still smiling, but a bit of worry darkened his eyes. “You stayed in Penzance last night, I hope.”
Because to be here at this time of day, she would have had to come on the first ferry. And to make the first ferry, she’d either have had to stay in Penzance the night before or, as she’d actually done, be on a train all night that chugged into the station in the morning.
She forced a grin. “And waste time I could be spending with you? No, I haven’t stopped. I just slept on the train.”
He shook his head. “You haven’t stopped since you left Northumberland? Gracious, dearover. We aren’t that interesting. You oughtn’t to have been quite so eager to get here.”
She laughed and continued on the path toward the back of the house, so that he wouldn’t see in her eyes that they hadn’t been her reason for hurrying.
Whatever chore he’d been about apparently forgotten, Tas followed her back around the house. “Still can’t believe you’re home. First Mabena Moon came back, and now here you are, without warning. It’s like all our chicks are flying back to the coop at once. We’ll have a fine time at the pub tonight, toasting the winning team. You’ll have to join us, if you’re up for it.”
She loved joining her parents and neighbors at the heart of the village—in general. Just now, it sounded utterly exhausting. “Perhaps if I manage some rest this afternoon. Who won today?”