Her brows drew together, making the piercing amber of her eyes all the more striking. She regarded him with the same expression she’d been giving the chrysalis in her garden—that if she could only study it long enough, she’d unravel all its secrets. “Why would her parents ask that of you?”

There were more reasons than he knew Mabena would want him to share, so he offered the simplest one. “I’m the vicar on Tresco. And one of the few Scillonians with ties to the mainland. I’m frequently called upon to help in such ways.”

He probably should have introduced himself as Mr. Tremayne of Truro Hall, as he’d done with her brother two years ago. But it wasn’t who he was, not really. He belonged to Tresco, not to their estate on the mainland. And her frank eyes demanded the real truth, not the nominal one.

She nodded and then glanced around her as if looking for something. “I . . . I expect she’ll be back any minute. Moon, I mean. She went over to Tresco to visit her family—but perhaps you know that? Is that what alarmed you, made you realize we were here where your sister should be?”

It was his turn to shake his head. “I haven’t seen her. I came because . . . well, because my sister was supposed to be writing to me twice weekly, and she hasn’t been. I was growing worried. For good reason, apparently. You say Beth’s things are still here, but Mrs. Pepper said she left without warning?”

“That’s right.”

Where could she possibly have run off to? He’d ask Mabena when she returned. She and Beth had always been the best of friends. If anyone knew . . .

Wait. What was Mabena doing back here, renting a cottage on St. Mary’s, anyway? Striving for a casual countenance, he summoned up a smile for Lady Elizabeth. “I didn’t realize Mabena Moon would be coming home. I’d have thought her parents would have mentioned it.”

“Oh, it was a last-minute decision.” She shifted away a bit, her gaze skittering to the wall and then down to the floor. “I . . . wanted a holiday, and Moon had told me how lovely the Scillies were. We considered ourselves rather fortunate we found a cottage with a vacancy.” Now those brows and the piercing eyes frowned anew. “It seems a bit less fortunate now, considering. Why don’t you sit, Mr. Tremayne? I’d like to show you something. Perhaps you can help me make sense of it.”

She didn’t wait to see if he obeyed, just hurried off in the direction of what must be the bedrooms. Oliver looked over the kitchen and living area, trying to imagine Beth here, making her own meals and filling the space with her constant movement. He couldn’t quite picture it though.