His boat bobbed up on the incoming tide, reminding him of the time ticking by while he was here, waiting for Lord Telford to join them. And for Casek to get back. Lord Sheridan had struck up a conversation with a few tourists who had just gotten out of a boat, asking them about Druid cairns and seeming delighted to learn that Tresco was littered with them. Oliver wasn’t sure if Sheridan actually knew the people or if he’d just seized on the first chap he’d seen in gentlemen’s attire.

“Are we ready?”

Oliver turned at Casek’s voice—not quite as snarling as usual. He shook his head. “Telford hasn’t come down yet.” Which probably meant he and Libby were still arguing. His feet itched to take him back up the path to her door to try to reason her brother into letting her remain here. But no, she had to do this herself. And she knew Telford far better than Oliver did. At the very least, they had a few days to convince him.

Casek grunted. “I suppose his lordship has no concept of inconveniencing the likes of us. Or of me. I suppose you aren’t exactly a nobody, O gentleman of Truro Hall.”

Either the mockery wasn’t as heavy in his tone as usual, or all the praying Oliver had been doing over this had built a protective shell around his heart. Or perhaps torn one down.

He sighed. “Actually, I believe he would quite like to inconvenience me, even more than he would you. Because I’m the worst kind of nobody, in his mind. The kind who might think himself somebody, even when he isn’t.”

Casek snorted what might have been a laugh. Maybe.

Oliver set his gaze on him, let it linger. Made it linger, made himself study him as he did everyone else. Made himself try to see him. Not as his rival, not as the man who did everything he could to be a thorn in his side, not as the brother of the man who’d broken Mabena’s heart.

He dragged in a long breath. “I owe you an apology.”

That certainly got Casek’s attention. “Come again?”

It took more effort than it should have to keep his shoulders from rolling forward defensively. But not as much as he’d expected it to take. “Sunday night—you were right. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions as I did. I know very well you would never hurt Mabena. And if you’re right that whatever Beth’s involved in got Johnnie killed . . .” He shook his head, nostrils flaring. “Then we’ll owe everyone a lot more than an apology.”