The first to climb into the van the next morning, Sister Mary Monica fixed Kate with a disapproving look as she hiked up her habit and reached for the support handle.

“Just for the record,” Kate said, offering her hand to help Sister Mary Monica up the small step, “I did not encourage this.”

Sister Mary Monica took her usual seat in the second row. “Tilly made that perfectly clear when she came to speak to us this morning at breakfast.”

So what was with the dirty look?

Silence settled inside the van. Across the convent garden, Tilly, Jim, and the other sisters were slowly making their way toward them. “It’s not safe,” Sister Mary Monica said. “To do a thing like that.”

Kate looked up into the rear vision mirror. Sister Mary Monica’s gaze was focused on Lockie as Tilly locked him safely in the garden. Kate swallowed nervously. “I know. I tried to talk her into staying in the convent but she wasn’t having it.”

“Yes, she mentioned that you insisted she leave the cottage.” She paused. “Especially considering that only your bedroom has a lock.”

Christ… Tilly hadn’t mentioned the fact that they had shared a bed, had she? Kate had explicitly asked her not to. “She wouldn’t listen,” Kate said, desperate to steer the conversation in any other direction than the one they were headed. “You know how she gets.”

“Yes,” Sister Mary Monica murmured. “I do know how she gets,” she said bluntly. “That girl makes silly mistakes.”

Kate’s eyes widened slightly. Wow. Harsh.

“Thank goodness for the lock on your bedroom door,” Sister Mary Monica said. “That she could sleep in there.”

Kate slowly relaxed. Tilly hadn’t told the sisters. Thank God… “Yeah. We just swapped rooms so she’d have the lock. No big deal.” Hurry up, Tilly. Put me out of my misery…

“Swapped rooms?” Sister Mary Monica said. “That wasn’t what Tilly told us.”

Chapter Ten

Swiping seawater from her chin, Kate grinned as she crossed the sand. The closer she came to Tilly, sitting primly on one of the pale pink towels from their linen press, all the more evident was the thick layer of sunscreen Tilly slathered on her forearms.

“You’re an English rose, Matilda Wattle.”

As Kate reclined on her own towel, Tilly laughed. She raised a hand to block out the downing sun, her eyes crinkling into almond shapes. “Shh,” Tilly said, nodding toward the students swimming nearby in the bay. “Let’s keep my nationality a secret, please.”

“Don’t worry,” Kate chuckled as she lifted the sides of the towel to swat at the water that tracked from her sports bra to her middle. “I won’t tell anyone you’re a pom.”

Kate looked back at the girls in the water. Only a quarter of the boarders had decided to come down for an afternoon swim after school and that made for easy supervision. Unlike the west end of the island, the east was a safe bay, and although most of the girls were decent swimmers, they knew not to venture too far toward the mouth of the cove where the current began to pull.