“So, tell me, dear—what do you think of our islands, now that you’ve been here awhile?”

Did a week count as awhile? She tipped her face up to take in the blue sky, watched a gull circle, and then smiled as she took in the expanse of the garden again. “I think . . . I think I could spend the rest of my life here and never miss the mainland for a moment.”

Only when she spoke the words did she realize how true they were. Perhaps it was a strange sentiment, given how much of the week had been spent indoors hiding from the rain. But every time she’d stepped outside, be it to the beach or into charming little Hugh Town, or onto the boat that had ferried them from St. Mary’s to Tresco this morning, that same sense of contentment had overtaken her.

This place was more than the mere facts she’d learned about it before coming. It wasn’t just an archipelago situated twenty-five miles off the coast of Cornwall. It wasn’t just the host to exotic species imported from around the empire. It wasn’t just six square miles of flower farms and sheep pastures and beaches.

It was something more. Something that made her wonder if she’d find here what eluded her in London, and even at Telford Hall.

Mamm-wynn hummed her approval of the answer. “That is just the way I felt when I first came here.”

Libby looked down at the pixie of a woman. “You weren’t raised here?”

“Oh no.” The lady laughed again. “I was born and raised in Essex. It was my husband I took a fancy to first, when he was in London for the Season. That was . . . my, more years ago than I care to count. More than seventy-five! I was seventeen that spring, and he was the handsomest thing, with those snapping eyes as dark as midnight.”

Her dreamy sigh made a grin tickle Libby’s lips. She’d never been much for romantic fancies herself, but she couldn’t deny the charm of hearing a woman in her nineties still sigh so over her husband. “And so you married him and he brought you here?”

“Quite so. I was uncertain at first, I admit it, when he said he meant for us to stay here. I thought it impossible that I could survive on such a small island.” Another magical laugh, and Mamm-wynn tugged her toward a branch in the path that led away from the Australian plants. “But then we got here, and I stood on the hill overlooking Bryher and the sea. And I knew.” She closed her eyes and drew in a long breath. “You know the value of names, don’t you, dearest?”

“Hm?” The abrupt shift made her blink. “I . . . names?” Was this a rebuke for not giving Mr. Menna her full name, complete with honorary title? Had she somehow found her out?