Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“So,” Sophie says pleasantly, setting a delicate ceramic cup in front of me. Steam rises and warms my hands as I reach for it. “What brings you here tonight, Abbey? You sounded quite agitated when you rang.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t worry you.” I wrap my fingers around the coffee cup. “It wasn’t agitation so much as nerves and excitement.”
“I see. Now I’m well intrigued.” She picks up her teacup and takes a small sip, smiling over the rim. “Please, enlighten me.”
“I have some updates about the Tulleys.”
Instantly, her face darkens. “Bloody menaces, that lot.”
I falter. “Oh dear. Did something else happen with Ben?”
I knew she was quitting, but I haven’t seen her since the morning she showed up on my doorstep in a panic. Guilt tugs at me for not touching base until now.
“Benjamin refuses to honor the terms of my contract, which state he’s obligated to pay for my father’s housing for six months following termination. He’s maintaining the clause only applies if I’m laid off as opposed to resigning. And the language is just vague enough that both of us could be correct.”
“Fuck. Does that mean you’re getting lawyers involved?”
She shakes her head. “It’ll cost more to retain a lawyer than to simply pay for it myself. I have some savings. We’ll make do. But enough about me. You said you have an update about the Tulleys, and I completely derailed you. This is concerning your research project, I presume?”
“Yes.” I set my messenger bag on the glass coffee table, then realize I should have asked first. “Is this okay?”
She waves a hand. “Yes, of course.”
I unzip the bag and pull out the file folder containing all the documents I compiled last night.
“All right, this will sound very convoluted at times, so try to follow along as best you can, okay? I promise it’s all heading somewhere.”
I can barely contain myself. I’m exhilarated. Practically vibrating. Jack and Nate are right—to me, history is akin to sex. That is very sad but very true.
“So. You already know the beginning of this story. Josephine was a maid for the duchess and, at some point after starting to work at the estate, fell in love with both Robert and William Tulley. The eldest son and the middle one. Josephine knew she had a decision to make, and it was eating her up inside, as evidenced by her letters to her mother.”
I set down the photocopies from Ruby Farnham’s attic trove, laying them out in front of her.
“And do we finally know who she chose?” Sophie looks utterly transfixed.
“We do.” I slide the latest journal entry, courtesy of Mr. Baxley, across the table. “It was William.”
She gasps. “Then…that means…” Some of the luster leaves her expression, replaced by the pall of sorrow. “She died with him on the ship. They both drowned.”
“Yes.”
Sophie leans forward. There’s a brief silence while she reads the entry, her elegant features creased with sadness.
“Those poor souls.” She raises her gaze to mine. “That’s it then? You’ve solved the mystery.”
A smile lifts the corners of my mouth. “Not quite. There’s still the matter of Robert.”
“I believe Benjamin mentioned a private investigator tracked Robert Tulley to Ireland. Is that not correct?”
“It’s correct.” I pull out another sheet from my folder and lay it down. “That’s the PI’s report. But we’re going to take a little detour before we get to Robert.” I grin at her. “Remember, I said this might get confusing.”
She reaches for her tea again, watching me curiously as she takes a sip.
“I got these records from the shipping line that owned the Victoria. It’s the insurance payouts to the survivors. About eight hundred people survived, while seven hundred perished. Their payouts varied. First class passengers received much more— ”
“Wankers,” Sophie grumbles.
“Right? But the lower classes were well compensated, or at least they would’ve felt that way judging by these sums. It was enough for a lot of these folks to transform their entire lives. Build a new life in America. Anyway, we’re getting into the weeds. I pored over the list of survivors, and one name jumped out at me. It made no sense at first. I assumed it was a coincidence.”
“What was the name?”
I hand her the paper. “I highlighted it in yellow.”
“E. Farnham,” she reads out loud, then lifts her head. “And that is?”
“Josephine’s younger sister. Evelyn.”
Eyes widening, Sophie says, “She was on the ship?”
“It appears so.”
Sophie skims the list again. “What do the numbers in parentheses mean? For example, here, it says J. and C. Forbes, with the number two in parentheses. M. Gregory, parentheses one. E. Farnham also has a one.”
I beam at her. “I had the same exact question. I couldn’t figure it out at first, so I went back to the passenger manifest, the list that William—and, by extension, whoever he was traveling with—wasn’t on. After a lot of cross-referencing, I discovered that the numbers in brackets refer to children. For example, M. Gregory is actually Marie Gregory, who boarded the ship with her husband and young son. The husband died, but she and her son survived. Forbes is Joseph and Charlotte, and the two corresponds to their two daughters. The kids’ names are on the manifest, but for the insurance purposes, they’re just numbers.”