On the way to supper, while Wink and Olly argue over which service they should attend the next day—Catholic or Protestant—I share my worries over Steward Latimer with Jamie.

His face acquires the same pinched look as when he’s testing that a rope is secure. “Hard to know why he moved without more information. I can ask Charlotte to ask around. She’ll be discreet.”

I sigh, wishing I wasn’t so dependent on the young woman. “Forget it. It’s probably nothing.”

“Probably. But let’s keep our ears sharp.”

In front of us, Wink elbows Olly. “Mary was a Catholic, so that’s the one I want.”

Olly laughs right in Wink’s ear. “Ha! They didn’t have Catholics back then, cow dung.”

When we enter the Dining Saloon, faces follow us. Some of them wear guarded looks as usual, but I swear some actually smile. One man presses his palms together and nods at us.

“Do you see what I see?” I murmur to Jamie.

“Yeah. I see fresh bread in our future.”

The Johnnies and the Domenics hail us with a rousing cheer. Drummer drums the table, and Ming Lai’s baritone urges, “Speech! Speech! Speech!” Jamie acknowledges the applause with a low bow, and I do the same.

The headwaiter with the rose in his lapel approaches and presents a bottle of champagne. “Sirs, a lady in first class sent six bottles.”

I nearly trip over my chair. “A . . . lady? Do you know who?”

“I’m sorry, sir, no.”

It isn’t Mrs. Sloane. Charlotte? My eyes find Jamie’s, who must be thinking the same thing, because his neck reddens, and he begins waging a war with his smile.

Corks pop, and soon, each member of our table holds a flute of sparkling liquid. Even the lads get a splash. I was never tempted to try the stuff after seeing what gargle juice did to Ba. But this wine, elegantly tipped from a long-necked bottle so that it pours out like a ray of sunlight, seems worlds apart from the jugs Ba swilled.

Rising, Jamie lifts his glass. I can’t help thinking how much he resembles Ba on his good days—affable, happy, and up for standing where the pointer lands.

Ba could’ve been great if the beast hadn’t dragged him away. His own grin could feed a hundred people, that upside-down archway through which his personality leapt and dazzled. Somehow Ba is in this room, watching his twins with a gleam in his eyes.

“Here’s to a day we will always remember, with new friends”—Jamie steers his glass to the Domenics—“and old friends we will never forget.” He acknowledges each of the Johnnies in turn.