“Well, what luck! Lady Elizabeth, we were hoping to run into you.”

It took her a moment to place the voice. And frankly, she didn’t quite manage it until she’d turned around and spotted Lord Willsworth and Mr. Bryant striding toward them on the street.

Blast and bother. She summoned a smile to her lips, but this one required effort. “Oh, good morning, my lord. Have you met Mr. Tremayne, the vicar from Tresco, yet? And this is my maid, Miss Moon.”

Perhaps she took a bit too much pleasure in introducing her maid to the viscount. Not that he did more than nod in their direction and say, “Oh, quite right. I was at St. Mary’s the day you filled in for Mr. Gale, sir. How do you do?”

Oliver had scarcely returned the greeting before Willsworth faced her again. “We’ve just booked a boat for the day to take us to Bryher—we mean to explore the cairnfields. We hoped to convince you and Miss Wight to join us.”

“Oh.” For a moment, Libby could only blink at him. Never in her life had a gentleman invited her on an outing for no good reason. Perhaps she hadn’t managed to scare him off fully at the dinner party after all. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved—Mama would certainly be pleased to learn it—or sorry. All she knew was that she had no desire to exchange her current plans for his. “How kind of you to think of me. Perhaps if you had found me sooner, but I’m afraid I’ve already made plans to explore a different island.” She lifted her bag in proof. “I’m cataloguing the flora, you see.”

She didn’t mention which island she’d set her sights on today. One never knew when a gentleman might decide to alter his own plans to be “accommodating.” It was just the sort of thing Bram would do, if for no other reason than to needle her when he knew she wanted solitude.

“And if you mean to make it back to St. Mary’s this evening, my lady, we had better hurry on our way.” Mabena used the same tone of voice she had always employed at Telford Hall—demure, respectful, but knowledgeable. Only upon hearing it again did Libby realize she’d not since they arrived. And that she hadn’t missed it, though it was convenient now.

She dipped her head. “Of course, Miss Moon. I certainly don’t want to be stranded on a rock for the night. Have a lovely day, my lord. Mr. Bryant. Perhaps another time?”

Not giving them time to answer—or invite themselves along—Libby spun and hurried along the cobblestones.

Thankfully, they didn’t follow, though a peek over her shoulder a minute later verified that they were still standing where she’d left them.