“I like to say all the islands are my cathedral, all the people my parishioners.” He gave her a grin. “I always sense God the best outside in His creation. But if one is being specific, I’m the vicar at St. Nicholas’s in Old Grimsby, on Tresco.” His uncle still lived in the parish house next to it. There’d been no need for him to move, not since Oliver was happy enough to stay at home. And now . . . now home, and its perpetual lease, were his anyway.

Her smile was as sweet as nectar, though the vines hadn’t gone away. “Perhaps one Sunday this summer Moon and I will find ourselves on Tresco in time for services.”

“You are always welcome.” He let his gaze fall back to the envelope he still held. “She’ll box my ears if I go opening her post.”

“Turnabout, then. If it was your book she wrote in.”

He liked the way good humor brought a lift to her alto voice. It made another smile tickle his lips, though thinking of Beth and strange letters by unknown carriers and odd writing in his book made him too aware of the heaviness.

Mamm-wynn had been right. Beth wasn’t where she ought to be. And yet here was something delivered to her. Well, let her box his ears for opening it, since it would mean appearing again to achieve the feat. He used a finger as a letter opener and ripped the top of the envelope. Peered inside, breath caught. Drew out . . .

A letter. “It’s about the cannonball.”

Lady Elizabeth had made no show of not watching him read. Her nose was scrunched, brows drawn together. “Does it say anything helpful?”

“I don’t know if it’s helpful or not. It says, ‘What we can verify for you is that it is indeed an eighteen-pound shot and that few ships that used Scilly as a base in the era in question were so equipped. But there is no way to verify the exact year or the exact ship, so it’s of no interest. Please focus upon the items in the Canary’s manifest.’” Oliver blinked at the page. “Manifest? Have you come across anything resembling a ship’s manifest?” And what was the Canary? He couldn’t recall any stories of a ship by that name, though that hardly meant anything.

Lady Elizabeth caught her lip between her teeth and shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen. Unless there’s one written on something in invisible ink.” She topped her jest with a crooked, uncertain smile.