Page 67 of The Nature of a Lady
Their tasks set, the five men hurried off, leaving only the four of them. He and Libby, Mabena. And for a reason yet to be determined, Casek Wearne.
Oliver turned to him, all the adrenaline from the preceding minutes surging again. “Now. You. What were you doing there? Are you involved in all this too?”
Casek’s arm dropped from Mabena’s waist. “I’ve about had enough of you and your accusations, Tremayne. Last I checked, you didn’t own this island, nor the caves.”
“So you just happened to be there. Pure coincidence.” Oliver took a step closer, even though he knew he was asking for trouble.
Maybe he needed a bit, a bit that he could control. A bit of the familiar sort that didn’t involve guns and threats of death.
And Casek was never one to disappoint on that score. He met him, shoved a hand into his shoulder. “I justhappenedto be where my student died over a month ago, yes. Because, apparently, of somethingyoursister had cooked up! And you want to turn it onme?”
“Johnnie wasn’t Beth’s fault.” He didn’t know if it was true. Only that he needed it to be. He shoved back. “She never would have wished him harm.”
Casek knocked his hand away, reached into the bag slung over his shoulder, and pulled out something white. Tossed it at him. “It’s Beth behind all this, and you won’t convince me otherwise. Unless you’re going to try and tell me it’s your grandmother stalking the shores of the uninhabited islands, getting everyone worked up.”
“What?” Oliver caught the white thing, frowning at the feel of silk in his fingers. A shawl, he saw when he let the length unravel. His heart sank like a stone into his stomach as his fingers found the corner. The embroidery. The familiar Tremayne crest there, with its fancyTmonogram. Mamm-wynn had given this shawl to Beth on her eighteenth birthday.
“Where did you ...?”
But Oliver knew even as he asked it.
“On Samson, right after my students were talking about the White Lady being spotted.” Looking thoroughly disgusted, Casek shook his head. “I don’t know what she’s about, but she’s deliberately trying to stir people up. And it started after Johnnie. She’s behind all this—shecausedit—and now we’re all left rocking, because a Tremayne never cares for anything but a Tremayne!”
“Casek.” The croak from Mabena was more effective than a shout would have been in wheeling Casek around like a stallion brought up short. She had a hand pressed to her head and was swaying on her feet. Libby had reached out to steady her, worry on her face.
Casek knockedherhand aside too and swept Mabena up into his arms. “To the doctor with you, dearover.”
“I don’t need a doctor.” Always stubborn, even when she had agony scrawled across her face. “Just take me home. Mam can tend me.”
“You want to worry your parents? Tell them all this? At this time of night?”
Her face screwed up even more. “All right. The doctor then.”
“And afterward, bring her to my house.” Oliver couldn’t argue with the logic of not setting the Moons to worrying, especially since the plan had been for Mabena and Libby to stay at his house tonight anyway, given the evening’s outing. Though they’d told her parents they were merely going to enjoy a night of games and stargazing. Something they’d done countless times over the years.
Casek, of course, snorted. “Right. Can’t trust me with her.”
“Well, you’re certainly not taking her to your flat.”
Wearne rolled his eyes. Probably. Though he’d turned away, so Oliver couldn’t see him. “I don’t recall saying I meant to.”
Mabena moaned. Or muttered something. Possibly a plea for them to stop, though he couldn’t be sure, given the way the wind garbled it. Either way, Casek’s long legs started eating up the track without a pause for another exchange, and Libby drifted to Oliver’s side.
They both watched them disappear beyond the rise before saying anything more. And then it wasn’t a word but a touch that had him sighing out the anxiety of the night—Libby’s hand on his arm, sliding down to his wrist. Taking his hand, the one not tangled up with incriminating silk.
He wove their fingers together. Foolish, no doubt. But he needed the touch, and he suspected she did too.
“Why do you dislike him so much?”
He hadn’t been sure whether she’d ask about that or Beth or all that transpired in the cave. But this was by far the easiest to answer. “Because he dislikes me.”
“And why does he dislike you?”
He sighed, shrugged. “He always has. The Wearnes and the Tremaynes have never been what one would call friendly.”
“Because ...?”
“Because...” He frowned into the night. And wondered where the stranger was. Deeper in the caves, looking for another way out? Or sneaking out behind them even now? He cast a glance over his shoulder and tugged Libby into a walk. “Because we have holdings on the mainland, I suppose. No one here owns any property. The Wearnes always said we lord it over the rest of them. That we only stay here so we can feel superior to someone, since we haven’t enough to do that on the mainland.”
