A redhead stood there, laughter evaporating from her lips. “Oh. Sorry. Not Beth.”

Lottie giggled her way over to them, a nearly empty flute in hand and its aftereffects bubbling in her eyes. “Em, I told you I haven’t been able to find Beth. This is my friend. Libby. Lady Elizabeth, I mean. Sinclair. I told you about her, didn’t I? She left the Château the year before you arrived.”

“Sorry,” Em said again, offering Libby a sheepish smile. “I’ve just been expecting to run into Beth every time I turn around.”

Lottie laughed again, which made Libby wonder how many other empty flutes she’d already created, and tugged her into their little bower. “Come in, Libby, please. The viscount is dying to meet you. And this is Lady Emily Scofield. Did I mention her to you? I actually convinced her to come and spend a few days with us!”

“Well.” Lady Emily fell in on Lottie’s other side, gaze darting all about the party. “I’ve long wanted to visit, and I thought I could see two friends at once.”

Lottie leaned closer, eyes twinkling. “Her whole family came,” she said in what she probably meant to be a whisper. “Even her brother.” That last word she sang in a ding-dong tune. “Wait until you meet him. So handsome. Nearly as handsome as your brother.” Eyes going wide, she giggled again. “No, wait. Maybe I don’t want you to meet him. You stick with the viscount; he’s too boring for the rest of us.”

Libby wrapped the shawl tighter around her shoulders, glad Mabena had thought to give it to her. She hadn’t realized they’d be outdoors all evening. Usually she would have enjoyed that unexpected boon, but all the people spoiled it.

Though she hadn’t at all minded the even-larger group watching the boat race on Wednesday morning. That had seemed entirely different.

She directed her gaze to Lady Emily. A friend of Beth’s, which seemed an odd coincidence to her. But then again, perhaps Beth always tried to lure her friends to the islands for the summer. “How long are you staying, my lady?”

“Oh, just until Monday.”

“I’m trying to convince them to come for longer a bit later in the summer. It would be so much more fun with a more diverse company, don’t you think, Libby? We’ve had no one but each other, Em. We’ll be bored out of our minds by July.” She produced a stage-worthy pout. “Please say you’ll come.”

Lady Emily didn’t look any more comfortable with the theatrics than Libby felt. “That’s my parents’ decision, Charlotte. All I can do is ask.”

“Oh, you can surely convince your father of anything. That’s what daughters do. Speaking of fathers—there’s mine with the viscount. Daddy!”