It may be wise, as Telford kept insisting, to simply put it all as far from them as possible. To tell the Scofields their search had met a dead end, and to let Sheridan distract their overeager employees with a few other inquiries he had stored up. But that still left the Lorne fellow, and he was a bit of an unknown. Sheridan hadn’t seemed at all confident that he’d be able to redirect him. A bloodhound, that was how he’d been described and why Sheridan had hired him to begin with. Once he was on the scent of something, he just wouldn’t let it go.

And apparently wouldn’t let anything or anyone get in his way.

Oliver made it through breakfast without running into Telford and even stole enough time to pay a quick visit to Mr. Menna in the Abbey Gardens before the six of them met at the quay. There had been no debate as to which boat to take, as only the Adelle was large enough to hold all of them. He and Beth and Mabena moved in perfect harmony readying her, Libby able to pitch in without getting in the way too.

Their lordships at least had the good sense to stand on the shore and wait until they were called.

Soon enough they were skimming the waves toward St. Mary’s, sun and wind spurring them onward. But it wasn’t a pleasure cruise, and no one on board seemed to mistake it as such. Shoulders were tense, spines rigid. His sister grew more silent, more anxious with every passing minute.

Oliver prayed his way over the four miles of water. That they would have wisdom. That they would find answers.

That no one else would get hurt in the search for them.

They spotted the first ferry of the day as they neared the quay—and ended up dropping anchor just as it pulled in at the docks. Beth, shielding her eyes against the sun, waved a hand furiously. “Emily!”

Oliver turned, though he had no idea who among the passengers was his sister’s friend from school.

“The ginger,” Libby whispered, nodding to a young lady whose hair was noticeable even beneath the wide brim of her hat. Not that said lady had been able to hear Beth’s shout over the ferry’s engines. Either that, or she was ignoring her.

“Well, let’s get on with it, then.” Looking like he’d rather wrestle a shark, Telford offered a hand to the ladies at large.