Page 27 of The Nature of a Lady
Oliver braced one elbow on the opposite hand and tapped a finger to his cheek. “What did you say kept you awake Tuesday night?”
“Ah.” Enyon cleared his throat. “Noises. Coming from the direction of Piper’s Hole—not that I went to investigate. Didn’t sound like voices, nor like an animal, and it wasn’t a windy night. I know it was probably just youngsters causing a ruckus, but ... but, well, it was enough to keep me awake. Especially worrying if it was youngsters, after...”
After Johnnie. “Have you heard them again?”
His friend shook his head. “But I was gone Thursday night, and last night I was dead to the world after getting home. Why?”
“I don’t know. Noises in the caves, something odd on Samson . . . Just makes me wonder if—”
“If all the old tales are true and it’s a lady in white over there? Singing a haunted lullaby to her lost babe in the caves?”
Oliver laughed again. “I was going to say that someone was up to something. Maybe someone decided to revive our long history of smuggling.”
“Hmph.” Enyon made a face. “You’re always so boring.”
“My apologies. I meant to say that it’s likely some beleaguered ghost, trapped on the shores by her love for a sailor who dropped her there in 1624 and promised to come back for her but never did.”
“Better.” Though he cocked his head to the side. “Who’s that, do you think?”
“My fictitious sailor and his abandoned love? How am I to know? I just made them up.”
“No, idiot.” Enyon slapped his arm and then pointed at something just coming into view around the point of land, aimed at Samson. A boat, obviously, moving at a good clip.
A familiar boat, as most of them were. It took him only a moment to place it. “Casek.” He spat the name.
“Ah. He must have spotted whatever it is and decided to see to it.”
“At this time of day?”
Enyon lifted a brow. “Since when does Casek Wearne care if it’s the wisest time to do something?”
Because he had a point, Oliver relented. And started walking again. “Did you investigate the caves later? See if there was any sign of people having been there that night?”
“There arealwayspeople in the caves. What would I have hoped to see? Besides.” He kicked at a shell, eyes on the ground ahead of them. “I haven’t had the heart to go in there. Not after I helped them haul Johnnie out.”
He’d forgotten that Enyon, living so near, was the one Johnnie’s friends had fetched to help them. He clasped Enyon’s shoulder. It should have been someone else—anyone other than softhearted Enyon—to do such a task. “I can’t blame you for that. And maybe that explains it. Maybe it was his mam down there, crying. Or young Harriet—she was sweet on him.”
One of the clouds cleared from Enyon’s face, at least. He nodded. “You could be right. Or even his friends, paying their respects at the place where he fell. The wind could have just been distorting their voices.”
“I daresay. That answers that question, anyway.”
“And Casek will clean up the beach on Samson. That only leaves finding Beth. And how I’m to get a glimpse of Mabena all prim and a look at this lady she’s serving.”
“The islands aren’t that big. I’m sure you’ll see them.” As they’d see Beth, if she were here. When she wanted them to.
They walked onward, until Oliver’s house came into view. “Come up?”
“Thanks—not today. Still have a few things to do at home. Luncheon after church tomorrow though? Unless you’ve already been spoken for.”
“Only by Mamm-wynn. You’re certainly welcome to join us.”
As he did at least one Sunday a month. “Sounds good. Talk to you tomorrow, Ollie.”
“Good night.” He lifted a hand in farewell as he climbed the path up his hill and Enyon turned back the way they’d come.
Every step upward, though, made his heart weigh a little heavier. When he got inside, Mamm-wynn would no doubt ask him, as she had every other time he came home since Wednesday, if he’d found Beth yet. And, like every other time, he’d have to tell her no. He’d tried explaining that Beth was where she wanted to be—without sharing the worry his sister’s exact words had buried deep within him—but Mamm-wynn didn’t even seem to hear those assurances.
He couldn’t blame her. He didn’t believe them himself.
