They didn’t ask Patrick to join, which was fine. He had no interest in playing games with grown men dressed entirely in white. Only men who never sweat, got dirty, or did real work wasted money on white clothes.

He headed back toward the lounge chairs, where most of the older relatives were gathered with Poppy and Liam in the center. The annoying little girl was there too, and it looked like an argument was underway. Liam’s expression was stormy as Poppy spoke with great passion, jabbing an index finger directly in Liam’s face. Patrick quickened his steps to join them, and they all went silent as he approached.

Bertie turned to him. “Say, Poppy’s heard some unflattering things about you. What’s this about a warrant for your arrest over robbing a church?”

Patrick rocked back in disbelief. “I didn’t rob anyone,” he said tightly. “That was a trumped-up charge, and we told Frederick about it the day we arrived.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling them,” Liam said. “If Frederick believed it, we’d have been kicked out the moment we set foot on this island.”

Poppy lifted her chin to look at Patrick with disdain. “Liam can’t help his background and we have to tolerate him, but we don’t have to put up with you. I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“If he goes, I go,” Liam said.

“What a wonderful idea,” Poppy replied.

Aunt Martha raised her palsied hand in an appeal for peace. “I think we should all calm down. I trust Frederick’s judgment, and, Poppy, you shouldn’t be spreading unfounded rumors.”

“I think stealing from a church is disgusting,” Penelope-Arabella said. “You should know better than to steal from a priest, Patrick.”

“And you should know better than to address a grown-up by his first name,” he snapped, causing the girl to burst into tears and run to her mother on the beach, wailing about the man who was mean to her.

Poppy shot him a look that was the perfect blend of schoolmarm and malice. “We have an example to set for the children, and Gwen shouldn’t have brought such trash to a family gathering.”

Liam wasn’t taking it anymore. “Poppy, beneath all those snooty airs, I’m pretty sure you’re the biggest wad of trash on this island. I grew up on the streets and can spot grifters a mile away.”

The old aunts looked appalled, but Poppy’s eyes gleamed with aggression as she flung insults back at Liam. Mudslinging wasn’t getting them anywhere, so Patrick stepped forward to intervene.

“Where did you hear about this supposed theft?” he asked.