“Well, you needn’t entertain us. Sir.” Mabena tried to keep her smile casual. Helpful even. She just wasn’t certain she managed it.

Oliver sighed. “I know. It’s just . . .” He surveyed the strange collection on the table again. And this time, it was she who could read his mind. It was just that Beth was gone, and he had no idea of where or how to find her. No idea if she was truly in trouble or merely chasing a lark. No idea if he should let her do whatever it was she meant to do or scour every inch of every island looking for her.

Perhaps Libby had been able to read those thoughts as easily as Mabena had. She edged forward, the slope of her shoulders hinting at her usual bashfulness, but determination bringing roses to her cheeks. “Don’t worry, Mr. Tremayne. We’ll help you find her. Won’t we, Moon?”

Mabena nodded and turned a bit more toward Oliver—a bit more away from Mrs. Pepper, who’d spun at the familiar surname. “Of course we will.”

Oliver’s smile was small and sad. “I appreciate that. But you’re here for a holiday, my lady. Enjoy your time. This needn’t be your concern. Wherever she is, my sister has proven she’s quite capable of taking care of herself.”

Libby’s chin edged up a bit. “I believe it was made my concern when people mistook me for your sister. It could well happen again, you know. I’m involved—let me help.”

He must have heard that underlying note in her voice as clearly as Mabena did. The one that said no one ever let her help with anything, and she craved it. Craved being useful—in something real, not just one of the dressed-up causes her mother championed that was more about parading around in a fancy hat and being seen making a difference than about actually making a difference.

Ollie, of course, was helpless against such a plea. He didn’t have it in him to deny anyone the chance to do good—at least not unless that someone’s last name was Wearne. “I will certainly welcome your assistance then, my lady. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your holiday.”

Libby’s smile was somehow both bright and sympathetic as she folded her hands before her. In that moment she looked like what her family had always begged her to be—a demure young lady capable of putting anyone at ease. “I assure you, sir. It is no inconvenience at all.”

And that, it seemed, settled it. Mabena didn’t know whether to be glad that she now had her employer’s approval for any poking about she wanted to do . . . or to resent the fact that her quest was no longer her own.