Oliver drew in a long, fragrant breath and leaned against the stone wall at the garden’s edge. Mabena had bowed out of dinner with them. She’d said it was because she’d had enough of the bickering and didn’t imagine their lordships really wanted to dine with a lowly former lady’s maid . . . but Oliver suspected it was more because she meant to accept the Wearnes’ invitation to join them for the evening meal. Lady Emily hadn’t come over from St. Mary’s with them either, which meant it was just Beth and Libby, Sheridan and Telford sitting there now, debating whether they ought to trust Tas-gwyn Gibson’s advice and try King Charles’s castle first.

The girls both agreed they’d better. The gents were less than willing to trust his grandfather’s instincts.

Oliver had already weighed in on Tas-gwyn’s side, and he didn’t imagine any further argument from him would achieve anything, so he’d gotten up to stretch his legs and come to see how his fuchsias were faring. Though instead of checking their leaves, he found himself just watching the four across the garden.

All right, mostly the one. His gaze kept returning over and again to Libby, as it always did and certainly had been doing all evening. They’d dressed for dinner—though he rather enjoyed the more casual meals he and Mamm-wynn had been having in Beth’s absence—which meant that for only the second time, he was beholding Libby in something other than a simple skirt and blouse. And while he appreciated her practical choices and loved that she fit so well with all his neighbors, he had to admit that seeing her in soft color that draped her form, her hair swept up, pretty much guaranteed that he couldn’t think of much other than her.

She was as lovely as the blossoms that surrounded her.

She looked his way, a soft smile curling her lips, and murmured something that he couldn’t hear from here. No one paid her any mind anyway as they continued to debate whether the drawn map matched the sketch of the castle’s layout that his grandfather had unearthed. Libby slipped from her chair and meandered in his general direction, though she paused at the rosebush for a long moment until her brother turned back to Beth and Sheridan.

Oliver met her in front of the thatch anchor and had to clasp his hands behind his back to keep from reaching for hers. “You’ve proven yourself quite the heroine of the day with your microscope discoveries.”

She waved that away, though her eyes still smiled. “We’ll see tomorrow if it was any help at all, I suppose. Do you think we’ll be able to obtain permission to search the castle grounds?”