And what of Brogan, would they hound her as well? Would she be able to go about her various jobs with the same casual confidence she’d always carried with her? How many headaches would she face if cameras and callous reporters pushed into her space? And the other locals, would they still want to gather in places overrun with gossip-seekers and gawkers?

Vic took a seat and then accepted one of the scones Esther pushed across the table toward her, but she didn’t have much of an appetite. She’d had a hard enough time trying to figure out how she’d protect Sophia, and now she had even more people to worry about.

“We’ve got some rough ideas,” Brogan said, coming around the bar and setting their drinks on the table.

“It seems easy enough to explain one of you being here all night,” Emma said calmly. “Vic, everyone knows we socialise, and Sophia, they seem to have drawn an easy connection between your acting and my script.”

“Yes, and they do seem to be searching more for Sophia,” Esther said, then blushed. “May I call you Sophia?”

“Of course. I’m generally called much worse.”

Tom snorted as if he’d heard a few of those things but knew enough not to mention any at the moment.

“The way we figure it,” Will started, in his slow easy cadence, “is the only way the press has something substantial to chew on is if they know you were here together, and we’ve yet to find anything to suggest they do.”

Vic blew out a heavy breath. They weren’t caught yet, at least not fully. She could still offer Sophia some shelter.

“They have traced the Land Rover back to the castle,” Emma said. “We’ll need a cover story if we say Sophia drove out by herself.”

“Say she borrowed it from the castle,” Diane offered. “She can drive it back in like nothing’s amiss. It’s not as if the duke doesn’t have enough cars to go lending them out to his guests.”

“The only problem with that story is she doesn’t know how to drive it, and as soon as she tries to back out of our place, they’ll know something’s up.”

“You can’t drive a manual transmission?” Tom asked.

Sophia grimaced. “I haven’t for over ten years, and never on the left side of the road. I could probably pick it up quickly if I had time, but it doesn’t sound like I have time.”

The others all frowned and seemed to think on this a bit.

“I’ve got the boat,” Brogan offered. “The press is all camped out down by our house. We could sneak you out the back way, through the beer garden, and down some side streets to the estuary. From there we’d get you below decks and sail up the coast, then bring you ashore someplace remote.”