“Rosedew.” Oliver’s voice was low; no doubt he was remembering that Beth wasn’t the only one who would regret missing his funeral. Mabena had helped watch him for his mum when he was little. Ages ago. He would have been, what, sixteen by now? “Had an accident two weeks ago, in Piper’s Hole on Tresco. He must have slipped, went down hard and . . . No one was with him, but a few of his chums found him next morning.” He shook his head, sorrow thick on his face. “His mother’s a wreck. Poor lad.”

She very nearly reached for his elbow. Funerals were, she knew, his least favorite part of the job. And it would be worse when it was that sort of funeral. “A couple weeks ago? Then this must have been written before the funeral but after the accident.”

“Must have been. I—” He was interrupted by a knock upon the door.

Libby huffed. “If it’s another someone looking for your sister, Mr. Tremayne, I’ll let you talk to them.” She spun to the door before Mabena could thrust the letter back to Oliver and insist she ought to answer all knocks instead. It wasn’t fitting for a lady when Mabena was there.

But Libby, of course, never thought of such things. She merely pulled the door open before Mabena could get out so much as a squeak of protest, revealing a glowering Mrs. Pepper with a basket as big as her scowl.

“Mrs. Pepper!” Libby’s greeting was pure sweetness—and perhaps relief at it being someone who knew who she was, more or less. “How—”

“Was that a man’s voice I heard?” Their landlady pushed her way in. “I hadn’t thought it necessary to set down the rules for you, being well bred as you clearly are, but—oh! Mr. Tremayne!”

The woman’s demeanor changed as swiftly as lightning when she spotted Oliver. Mabena rolled her eyes—she couldn’t help it. It was annoying and convenient both how he had that effect on people.

He’d folded the letter in the moments when she and Libby were turned to the door, and he now smiled warmly at the old biddy, holding out a hand toward her. “Hello, Mrs. Pepper.”

She put her hand into his, setting her basket down to a gentle rest on the floor. “How good it is to see you again. I thought I’d not get the chance once your sister went home. Are you here on business or for a visit? Calling on Mr. Gale? He made mention of seeing if you would consider filling in for him one Sunday here, if that cough of his doesn’t improve.”