The Nature of a Lady (The Secrets of the Isles #1) - Roseanna M. White Page 0,3

their pace, each clutching the smaller bags they carried with one hand and using the other to hang on to their hats, since the wind was greedily trying to steal them. A laugh spilled from Libby’s lips as they charged up the gangway at a pace too quick to be ladylike.

But that didn’t matter. Not now. They were on their way.

Once aboard, Mabena let out a gusty breath of relief. “There, now. We made it. And not a moment too soon.”

Indeed, with a final clang, the gangway was taken in and the ferry pulled away. Libby took up position at the rails so she could wave to Mama. Her mother blew her a kiss and shouted something that was lost to wind and water slapping the hull and the steam engine’s chug and clamor. Good wishes, no doubt, to match her brave smile.

Libby held her place for a minute more and then spun to take in the world. St. Michael’s Mount, its causeway currently under water, jutted out of the sea to her left, the ancient castle reigning over the small town of Marazion. Gulls swooped and called. And likely countless fish darted beneath the waves, if she could but see them.

Beside her, Mabena chuckled and placed a restraining hand upon her arm. “Easy now, Lady Elizabeth. We don’t need you falling in to get a closer look.”

Libby shot her friend a smile. “No more of that—not this summer. It’ll just be us, Mabena. No one even needs to know that I’m Bram’s sister. I think . . . I think I’ll just be Libby until we go home again. Libby Sinclair. No ‘my lady’ nonsense.”

She expected a smile of pleasure. A nod. Quick agreement. Instead, thunder flashed through Mabena’s deep brown eyes. “That will never do, my lady. You are His Lordship’s sister. You can’t just pretend otherwise. And I had better not either, lest I forget myself when we go back to Somerset.”

For a long moment, Libby just listened to the splash of water as the boat sliced through it, wishing one of her magnifying glasses could help her see what this heavy thing was inside her chest. Wishing there were a Latin name for the feeling of disappointment—no, discomfort. No . . . she didn’t know the word for this feeling that always seized her when someone disapproved of her.

Which was all the time, lately. She could all but see her sister’s perfect face looking at her in utter dismay, hear her voice saying, “For heaven’s sake, Elizabeth, can’t you just be a proper young lady for a day in your life?”

Mabena’s sigh joined the wind jostling them for elbow space at the rail, and she leaned closer until their shoulders just brushed. “You know it isn’t that I don’t want to be so informal, my lady. It’s just that it would be so easy to do that I honestly do fear I’d forget myself when we go back again. And I don’t relish losing this position when your mum or brother realize we’re friends. We walk a fine enough line as it is.”

She knew that. She did. As indulgent as Mama was about the microscope and slides and endless supply of sketchbooks, she wouldn’t budge on some things—the lines between the classes high on the list. Loyalty and some affection between a lady’s maid and a lady was acceptable. Friendship was something else. Friendship required equality, and that she’d never grant.

Were she a braver girl, Libby would defy that unspoken dictate and argue the point. She’d declare that she didn’t care who Mabena’s parents were or where she was from, they were friends and that was that. They understood each other. Shared a fascination with the natural world—something Libby couldn’t claim about any of the gentlemen’s daughters she knew. While they recoiled in horror at a worm or an insect, she leaned in for a closer look. They were too different.

In those ways, Mabena was much more like her. But in others, they were different too. She did need to protect her position—something Libby never had to worry about. She’d better remember that and help her guard it. With a matching sigh, Libby nodded.

“Now, you needn’t look so sad, my lady. St. Mary’s is one of the prettiest places on earth, and you’re going to have a fine time cataloguing every creature and plant you can find. Don’t worry so over a trifle like what name I’ll call you.” Mabena’s eyes, when Libby looked over at