Beth shook her head. Oliver had always loved dogs, and they’d had several over the years. If he wasn’t listening, it was likely just for the point of it. Telford had been a bit of a bore when he first arrived, after all.
But she had to determine how best to get over to Emily and get her to tell her what was wrong, not get dragged into a conversation about the merits of a puppy. Emily would never breathe a word about what was bothering her in company, though. Not unless no one was paying attention to them.
So then. A distraction. And the yellow paper still sitting on the arm of the sofa provided just the one she needed. “Sheridan received word that his sisters will be here in two days.” She lifted her brows and turned to him. “Have you addressed Mamm-wynn’s rather cogent point of last week?”
He blinked at her.
She motioned to the house. “They need a place to stay. And as we have already well established, all the holiday cottages and hotels are booked for the summer, and we’re already bursting at the seams.”
His face screwed up. “Right. That.”
As she’d expected would happen, everyone had an opinion or suggestion, and while they talked them over, she slid away from Sheridan and skirted the table, gave a hello squeeze to Mabena’s elbow and a grin to Libby, and then worked her way to Emily’s side.
“Oh, but I don’t mind at all!” Libby was saying. “I love staying here on Tresco with the Moons. Your sisters are welcome to stay in my cottage as long as they like. Only . . . well, I don’t know that they would like. It’s rather basic, and they’re . . . not.”
Laughter rang out from Sheridan, Telford, Libby, and Mabena—the ones who clearly knew the Howe sisters.
Those acrobats in her stomach took up a new routine. All sorts of gentry and nobility took their holidays on St. Mary’s in the cottages outfitted for the purpose. What made these two less likely to enjoy it than all the others?
She rather dreaded finding out.
But that wasn’t the point. Emily. She tucked herself close to her friend’s side and leaned close. “I didn’t see Briggs with you. Did she not come?”
Emily’s nostrils flared. “She’ll follow later. The Wights are touring the Gardens this afternoon and offered to bring her. She had letters to answer.”
“You’ve had news.”
Still, Emily didn’t look up. Just to the side. “No. She has had news. That Nigel had been back in London after that trip to Portugal chasing Sheridan’s false leads, and the house has been a veritable flurry of activity ever since.”
“Oh, Em.” She leaned in until their shoulders touched, unable to imagine how it felt to be completely ignored by her own family. To have to hear from her maid what her own parents and brother were doing. “I’m so sorry they’re acting this way.”
Emily squeezed her eyes shut and then, when she opened them again, fastened on a smile that was trying too hard. Or not hard enough. “Well. I can’t really worry with that right now. We have bigger considerations.” The false smile slipped away. “They report that something big is happening, though they don’t know exactly what. Only that my family has been running around like mad, and they’ve been told to prepare the house for a special guest.”
“What? Who?”
Emily shook her head. “They don’t know. My parents just keep calling him ‘the American.’”
The American. Beth let her breath hiss out. “The same one who owns the Victoria, do you think? Who would bid against Sheridan for anything I found of Mucknell’s?”
“I imagine. I don’t know what other American it could be.”
She sighed and looked back toward the others. No one was going to like this. Not one little bit.
22
Sheridan settled into his usual seat in the library with a long exhale. They’d spent the morning on St. Martin’s after the Wednesday gig race—him and Beth and Oliver and Libby—bird-watching and walking the coast. Telly, of course, hadn’t had the least desire to get out of bed early enough to join them. And Sheridan hadn’t tried too hard to convince him, truth be told. It was rather nice, an outing with just the four of them. Especially since Libby and Oliver had been so focused on the birds and each other that they hadn’t even noticed when he and Beth had kept on walking. Hand in hand.
He might manage to wipe the grin from his face. Eventually.
She actually liked him. She laughed in all the right places and joked back just as she should. He caught her looking at him at odd moments. And though she’d flushed beautifully on Monday when he all but called himself her Prince Charming, she hadn’t argued, then or later.
He’d convince her. And not even just eventually. Soon, perhaps. He’d land on the right way to propose one of these days, and she might possibly accept.
But before that . . . there was the issue of Abbie and Millicent. Which was why he hadn’t invited himself along when Telford said he was walking to the sweets shop after luncheon, nor had he joined the ladies and Oliver in the garden.
His sisters would be arriving on St. Mary’s on the last ferry today. The Peppers would greet them and see them to the cottage they’d let to Libby—and would be catering for them for the duration of their stay, because neither Abbie nor Millicent nor their maids knew the first thing about cooking—and then tomorrow morning, someone here would go and fetch them to Tresco.
They’d all offered—Mabena Moon, Oliver, Beth. But he hadn’t decided yet who the wisest choice would be. Oliver had quite a knack for putting people at ease, but he’d also “stolen” Libby from Sheridan, which they might not be too quick to forgive. Mabena they could likely ignore, given that they’d still look on her as a servant . . . except she didn’t look much like a lady’s maid anymore, and that could put them on their guard.
And Beth was out of the question, obviously. No way he wanted them to meet her before he had a chance to talk with them.
Hence the list he’d been working on last night. He dug the notebook out and unscrewed the cap from his pen. Even looking over what he’d already written made him smile.
She’s the most amazing girl in the world. You’ll see.
She loves to explore.
She can survive in harsh situations. She first spent a solitary week on an uninhabited island as a child, with her parents’ blessing, and repeated the adventure this summer. She would make an excellent addition to my expeditions.
She wants to see the world.
She has a heart for adventure and can find it everywhere.
She actually enjoys it when I talk about the Druids.
No, really. She does. I’ve seen the fascination in her eyes.
I am not imagining it.
She has a keen sense of humor and enjoys mine.
I’m quite serious. Stop laughing.
She has a kind and caring heart. Every time she goes to another of the islands, she returns with a small token for her grandmother—a shell or a piece of sea glass or a beautiful feather.
Speaking of her grandmother, she has the sweetest one in the world, and I think you’ll soon want to claim Mamm-wynn as your own, just as I do.
She comes from a wonderful family. The Tremaynes have an estate in Cornwall, and Mamm-wynn is the daughter of a viscount’s second son. See? Excellent bloodlines, if that matters to you. Her brother is vicar here on Tresco, a post he kept even after he inherited the estate. You won’t have to wonder why after you’ve met him. He is a true minister of souls.