With another chuckle, Mama stepped back, folded her arms across her middle, and nodded toward the boat. Even with emotion waging a war against the composure on her face, Augusta, Lady Telford was the image of a grace Libby could never make herself aspire to, despite admiring it in her mother. “Enjoy yourself, my darling. Try not to ruin too many dresses. And do make an effort to see who from our acquaintances are summering there and send me a wire with their names. I’ll make any introductions I can through telegrams and letters.”

“Yes, Mama.” She’d make an effort. It would be a paltry one, but Mama wouldn’t honestly expect anything more from her. Libby grinned, leaned over to kiss her mother’s cheek, and waited.

Mama swallowed. Gave her another smile that was trying too hard. “Off you go, then. Don’t miss the ferry. Moon, I’m trusting you to see my daughter is well cared for.”

Mabena’s nod was solemn. Though when Mama waved them onward, Libby exchanged a grin with her maid that nearly gave way to a squeal of excitement. Mabena must be excited to see her family again. And Libby . . . Libby could hardly believe that she’d actually pulled this off. She’d actually let a cottage for the summer without her brother’s knowledge. She’d actually get to put a few leagues of distance between herself and the society that had decided she wasn’t quite what they were looking for in an earl’s sister.

Another call from the ship’s bell had her and Mabena both picking up their pace, each clutching the smaller bags they carried with one hand and using the other to hang on to their hats, since the wind was greedily trying to steal them. A laugh spilled from Libby’s lips as they charged up the gangway at a pace too quick to be ladylike.

But that didn’t matter. Not now. They were on their way.

Once aboard, Mabena let out a gusty breath of relief. “There, now. We made it. And not a moment too soon.”

Indeed, with a final clang, the gangway was taken in and the ferry pulled away. Libby took up position at the rails so she could wave to Mama. Her mother blew her a kiss and shouted something that was lost to wind and water slapping the hull and the steam engine’s chug and clamor. Good wishes, no doubt, to match her brave smile.

Libby held her place for a minute more and then spun to take in the world. St. Michael’s Mount, its causeway currently under water, jutted out of the sea to her left, the ancient castle reigning over the small town of Marazion. Gulls swooped and called. And likely countless fish darted beneath the waves, if she could but see them.