Mabena chuckled. “He would be honored to show you about, I’m certain.”

“And we need to see the Abbey Gardens soon. So obviously we should just plan an outing to Tresco.”

“Obviously.” Mabena thankfully looked amused rather than annoyed at the thought of introducing Libby to more of her world. Good. “Perhaps we could even plan to stay overnight. I know my parents would be thrilled.”

“Perfect!”

They chatted about whether the fine weather was likely to hold and what days would be best for that trip while they cooked. An easy, companionable conversation, followed by an easy, companionable silence while they ate.

She’d always liked breakfasts best for this very reason. Even when her company was Bram and Mama instead of Mabena, it was such an easy meal. The one where her brother often had a newspaper open before him to mask his usual morning silence, where they could each come and go at their leisure, where there were no expectations. Certainly no evening gowns or perfectly coiffed hair like at dinner.

When she was finished, she took her own plate to the sink, washed it, and stacked it neatly back in the cupboard with the others. After fetching her notebook, pencil, and hat, she said, “All right, then. Down to the shore I go. Feel free to find me whenever you’re bored of town, Mabena.”

Mabena, still at the table with her tea and the last half of her toast, smiled. “I’ll just look for the girl on her belly in the sand, studying the root systems of the grasses.”

Chuckling, Libby snatched up one of the remaining pieces of bacon for the walk. And then another. “A fine idea.” With a wave farewell, she let herself out and aimed directly for the path down to the beach. She had a feeling she and that path were going to become the best of friends before the summer was over.

“Meow.”

Her feet paused near the garrison wall even as her gaze skittered around, looking for whatever child had made the cat call. And she was a bit surprised to find not a sweet little lad or lass poorly imitating a feline, but an actual feline poorly imitating itself. It was a tiny thing, striped and white socked, its fur matted and scraggly. And when it emitted another “Meow,” Libby couldn’t suppress a giggle. It really did sound more like a person trying to mimic a cat than an actual kitten. “Hello there.”

It came a few steps closer, peering up at her with wide golden eyes. It meowed again, and again as she took another step toward the path. She glanced down at the bacon in her hands. “Ah. I suspect I know what you want. Well, you certainly seem to need it more than I do. Here you are, little darling.”