Ruth looked to Adam across her desk, her expression decidedly calm. Meanwhile Mr. Keller was fussing in his chair, twisting his hands and glancing to the window with a look on his face that would have made anyone suspicious. Ruth resisted reaching over to calm him, "Everything will be alright, Adam. Your man did switch the cargo manifests at the harbormaster's office?"

He nodded quickly, "Yes, and made sure to put the correct one back."

"Then we have nothing to worry about."

"You're playing with fire here, Mrs. Dalian."

"I'm merely distracting myself from my endless worry over my daughter, trapped in a war-torn country." She placed a hand to her heart, the picture of motherly love. "Surely you can understand that?"

Adam rolled his eyes, a smirk breaking out. "And surely you know what's going to happen now."

"Adam, all of the decisions that man makes come down to two purposes; to enrich himself and to embarrass my family. This provides him with an opportunity to do both, of course he's going to throw himself into it and not pause to think."

"Ruth, he's going to come into the offices. Your husband's office, your daughter's office, your office! He's going to berate you in front of officials, make you look incompetent and you consider that a distraction?"

"I consider that a distraction because he will be the one being berated by the end of it." She grinned, standing to look out the window. If she angled herself just right, and strained her eyes, she could see the very edge of the Reichster offices. Where the Dalian offices were warm red brick, Reichster had painted his offices a dull brown that she always wrinkled her nose at. Henry had claimed that it cut down on cost, he didn't have to clean it very often, but Ruth had always felt it lacked personality.

Gareth had never lacked for personality, both in himself and in his business.

He had insisted on a bright blue that would stand out on the docks, even if he had to have someone clean the sign and touch it up once every three months. He had been the one to insist on electric lighting and a heating system for the offices, something Reichster still hadn't gotten around to. He had always been full of ideas for how to improve the business, whether it was the offices or his ships.

Ruth was glad to have finally gotten a start on his final plan, an expansion of the warehouse and offices that included three more docks for their ships.

It had taken time, while Anastasia had been dealing with her engagement and wedding, Ruth had spoken with the former owners of the site and been negotiating. She had to admit she enjoyed it, getting the best deal out of them that she could was rather fun. When Gareth had first started becoming forgetful, he had asked her to help. He had been amused to see how she enjoyed it, and had encouraged her. But now he was gone, and she was left to manage things on her own.

Which meant she got to play her little games.

"There they are." Adam said, having joined her at the window. He gestured with his chin, drawing her attention. Henry Reichster was leading a half dozen men down the docks, his hand pointing right at their offices.

Ruth cocked her head, "He brought more than I expected."

"They're likely here to arrest you." Adam raised a brow, "They probably have handcuffs."

"And they'll go away empty handed." Ruth smirked. "How should we prepare? Perhaps they come in to find us discussing something secretive?"

"Such as what his daughter-in-law is doing at your house right now?" Adam shook his head. "Honestly, one trick is bad enough, but you had to go for two."

"Elizabeth Moody was perfectly willing to provide a cover story, and you know Lieutenant Morris simply had bad timing."

"And your invitation said to meet at your house and not at the offices."

"Such sloppy penmanship on my part." Ruth chuckled, "Come now, let's huddle around the plans for the new offices and make it look like we're planning to send a load of bombs over."

They didn't make the most convincing of conspirators, but they did manage to look appropriately guilty when the door was slammed open, the glass in it shivering as it hit the wall. Ruth glanced back over her shoulder, seeing Henry standing there with a triumphant grin on his face. She snorted, "You know, knocking is socially acceptable. And if that glass broke, I'd bill you for it."

"Soon you won't be in a position to bill me for anything." He grumbled, and looked to the men behind him. "Just as I told you, they're obviously planning something."

One of the men, obviously the leader, came forward and tipped his hat to Ruth. "My apologies ma'am, but we do have to investigate."

"Investigate what?" Ruth stepped away from the desk, gesturing for him to examine the plans. "The color of paint we're going to use for the new offices?"

The investigator chuckled, "Nothing so as important as that, ma'am. Simply a possible breach of neutrality."

"Well, so long as you don't fight me on my fabric selection for the new curtains." Ruth spread her arms. "Investigate away."

The man turned, quickly giving instructions to his team. Henry glowered at her from where he stood, "Your little act won't work, you know."

"My act?" Ruth, from her new position by the window which was coincidentally as far away from him as she could get, pursed her lips. "If any of us is an actor, it's you."

"In what way?"

"In every way," Ruth laughed, "You act like a good man, a caring husband, a proud father. We all know who you actually are." She sneered, "A miserable little slug with sticky hands who can't keep himself away from any skirt he sees."

He had the gall to not even blush at that, "And all I see is an old harpy who doomed her daughter to a miserable life and will break any law she sees fit, all to help her darling little whore of a daughter."

"I couldn't be prouder of my daughter," Ruth drew herself up, and looked to the investigators, knowing that they had all paused to listen to them. "And I couldn't be prouder to be a law abiding citizen of this country."

The investigator shuffled his feet, "Ma'am, we do have a manifest-"

"Then go to the ship and search every crate on it." Ruth pointed out the window. "You will not find what you're looking for. Not on that ship, not on any of my ships."

Henry rolled his eyes, "Such dramatics, I'll wait here gentlemen, to make sure she doesn't run."

"You get him out of my building or I will have him thrown out this window." Ruth growled, turning on him. "I won't have him in here for another minute!"

The investigator held up his hands, "Perhaps it would be best if we all waited on the docks? Mr. Reichster, if you could remain out of earshot of Mrs. Dalian?" That was met with grumbles of assent from both parties, although Ruth made sure Henry went down the stairs first. She had no doubt he would try something; the man always did.

Standing on the opposite side of a dock from him while her ship was searched, she had to resist ordering some of the longshoremen to throw him over the side. By God did she hate Henry Reichster, and she had hated him far before he had tried to rape her daughter, twice. When she had arrived from Nebraska, fresh faced and overwhelmed by the city, he had led the others in ostracizing her from society.

Gareth hadn't noticed, he had been so devoted to ensuring that she settled into the hotel room he had reserved for her until their wedding that he didn't hear the snide comments about her background. Ruth had tried to ignore them, to focus on preparing herself for becoming a wife and mother, but it had been hard. Henry approached them at every party, always full of concern for her. After all, this was so different from Omaha, she must find it incredibly overwhelming. Perhaps she would be more comfortable in the garden while he discussed some business with Gareth? Gareth didn't know the garden was deserted, and that she would be effectively isolated.

Thank God for Moira Vanderbilt who had found her out there, helped her dry her tears, and then shown up the next day to take her out shopping at all the finest stores. Gareth was thrilled she had a friend, and Moira was as good as could be. She took her to tea at the best restaurants, brought her along on afternoon calls, and enthused about how glad she was to have some fresh blood around.

Slowly those calls had turned into returned visits, and whispered comments about Samantha Reichster, and by the time Ruth had become Mrs. Dalian, she was already well established as an upstanding society lady.

Of course, Gareth had been too kindhearted to fully cut Henry from their lives, even after Ruth had patiently explained how his actions had left her alone. There had been a friendship there once, and some affection still remained. Ruth had tolerated his brief visits, even if talking to Samantha made her want to dig a fork into her leg.

When their children had been born, those visits had become much more frequent.

Henry seemed to think Zachary made a perfect playmate for Anastasia, even though her girl would much rather climb a tree to read a book than play with his son. Anastasia may not have shown outright disgust for Zachary as she grew, but neither did she show any predilection for his company. If anything, she hardly looked at boys until Oscar had come calling.

Even then she still preferred to go on outing with his sister, she was hardly the flirt that Zachary was becoming. Oscar could make her blush, but she was never one to use her feminine wiles on any man. Ruth had been glad for Oscar to come courting, for Zachary was clearly trying and failing to entice her daughter, which only seemed to anger his father.

When Anastasia had come running to her that night, her dress disordered and her face covered in tears, Ruth had feared the worst. It had taken Anastasia a long time to be able to fully relate what had happened, and Ruth had hugged her tight after. Gareth had raged, and Ruth had feared that he meant to go to the Reichster house that very night to kill Zachary.

In the end he had gone out back to break a number of chipped plates, drunk two bottles of whiskey, and called Henry over the phone to inform him of what his son had done.

Henry had apologized profusely, arguing his son was drunk and perhaps thought Anastasia had given him some sign. Zachary would come over first thing in the morning to apologize himself, he cared deeply about Anastasia and would live in shame forever over what he had done. Ruth had watched from the corner of the room as Gareth had screamed that no Reichster was ever to be allowed in his house again, and if Zachary came sniffing around his daughter again, he would shoot the boy and gladly go to jail.

And now her husband was dead and Henry Reichster was smiling smugly at her from across her dock. If there was only one benefit to Anastasia being in Britain, it was that she was safely away from the Reichster family. She didn't have to worry about those two dogging her steps, Ruth could handle it.

Much like she was now, watching as the investigator waved the both of them to come join him by the gangplank. He nodded to her first, "Ma'am, we've completed our inspection."

Henry snorted, "I hope you have handcuffs ready."

"No munitions were found." The inspector lifted out the phony manifest, "No artillery shells, no rifle cartridges, no guncotton, I'm sorry to have put you through this, ma'am. It must have been a joke by someone."

Henry grabbed it roughly from his hands, "That's not right, she manufacturers all of those!" He waved the ledger, "Right here, she even signed it!"

"A forgery." Ruth shrugged, "And if I was really smuggling munitions, would I inform the harbormaster about it?"

"Again, my deepest apologies." The investigator snatched the manifest back. "Mr. Reichster, I'm terribly sorry that you got caught up in all this. I'm sure you'll be glad to return to your own business."

Henry let out a string of curse that made the men around her wince as he stormed off, and Ruth was all smiles as she went back into the offices. "See Adam, that was a perfectly entertaining afternoon. Now, I had best go join Mrs. Moody and Mrs. Reichster for tea. Perhaps Lieutenant Morris would be willing to join us ladies, he seems the sort to enjoy female company."

If she looked out of the office window and strained her eye, she could still see Henry glaring at her. She gave him a slow smile, and lifted her middle finger in response.

I had to admit, the trip up to Dalbeattie was much more entertaining with Will. As it was, the biggest concern I had was making sure that the trunks I had packed with some of the food Mother had sent followed me during every train change. The porters probably had some very unkind thoughts about me, but I made sure to tip each one well.

At the Dalbeattie station though, I was confronted with someone who I couldn't tip.

Sam was waiting for me with his car, and actually smiled when I stepped out. "Hello Anastasia, thought I would come pick you up."

"Sam," I nodded, hoping that he wasn't spoiling for a fight. "It's good to see you."

He gestured to the trunks stacked up, "All those yours?"

"Yes, I brought presents." I did my best to smile, "I can call a cab, I doubt you want Rigel to get hair all over your seats."

"Well, that's why they made brooms." He turned to his car, opening the door. "Get yourselves settled; I'll arrange for a truck to follow with those."

I clucked to Rigel for him to follow me, "Thank you, Sam. We're staying at the Burnside."

Sam chuckled, "No you're not, you're staying with us. Da insisted." I fretted in the backseat with Rigel as Sam started the car after the truck started off. Sam had been kinder at Jeannie's funeral when compared to my visit during my honeymoon, but I worried that some wrong word would upset him and lead to a fight.

I stayed quiet in the back throughout the drive, even when we pulled up to the house. It looked much warmer than it had last time, the lights shining brightly out of windows that looked freshly cleaned. Sam led me inside, where I was immediately enveloped in an embrace by Peg. "Oh, Annie, we're so glad you're safe!"

"It's good to see you again," I replied, giving her a squeeze before stepping back. "You're all doing well?"

"As well as we can be." She adjusted her skirt, brushing her hands down it. "We worry about Will, of course. But, well, things are better."

A solid hand clamped down on my shoulder, Rigel giving a happy bark. "Anastasia, 'tis good to see ye here. But really, ye were going tae stay at the inn? Ye've got family here."

I turned, taking in the sight of Will's father. His color was healthy, his eyes bright and he was smiling as Rigel did his best to worm his way between us. "Well, I didn't want to impose."

"'Tis not an imposition in the slightest," He chuckled, "Now, let me show ye tae yer room, I think ye'll be pleased." Rigel was more than glad to trot ahead of us as Samuel led me through the house, finally stopping in front of a door. "Here."

I stepped through, taking in the room before me. It was a decent sized room, having a wardrobe, a bed, a desk and several bookshelves. What drew my eyes though were the ship models displayed on almost every surface; simple wooden rowboats, a sloop that perched precariously on its stand, a paddlewheel that spun when I touched it, and a number of tall sailing ships. I had to blink away tears for a moment, knowing the hands that had patiently crafted all of these model ships were the same hands that held me at night. "Will's room?"

"I thought ye might like it." Samuel shifted on his feet, "Do ye?"

I whirled, giving him a hug. "I love it, Samuel. Thank you, I can't wait to write Will and tell him."

"Well, if ye get bored in here, take a look in his desk." He winked, "He sends so many letters that we started storing all of them in his desk, just tae save space."

"You don't think he'd mind me reading them?"

"Not a bit." He shook his head, "Although he may ask to read all of yer letters after."

"He's more than welcome to." I looked to the desk, wondering what it might hold. Letters about me? He surely had to have written something to his parents about me. More than likely there were also letters about Titanic, and I had no doubt they would be about his guilt. How much would I learn about my husband in those letters?

Samuel coughed, drawing my attention. "Perhaps later? Sam says there's some truck here fer ye." Sure enough the trunks were waiting in the entryway, and when I revealed the food in them, Peg almost burst into tears. Even Agnes, looking slightly haggard, thanked me. I think I surprised them the most though when I went to help Peg in the kitchen and was actually able to help.

Will bed proved to be quite comfortable, not the least because I could smell him when I laid my head on his pillow. The slight bite of his aftershave, the Pear's soap he liked, and that hint of salt air that always clung to him, it was heaven to be able to wake up to it. The Murdochs were evidently all early risers, for I found that I had missed breakfast. A few scones had been left for me though, and I gratefully took it, as well as a wicker basket.

The weather was beautiful, bright and sunny with a light breeze, and I found myself wanting a picnic by the river. I packed a blanket, the scones and a number of Will's letters to read. Rigel would be coming with of course, and I had no doubt he would be glad to swim in the river while I read. Samuel wished me a fine afternoon as he settled in the back with a book, and he even gave me directions to get to the river.

It proved a wonderfully peaceful spot, a lush green meadow alongside a bend in the river and the machinery of the granite quarry hidden by trees along the shore. Rigel was glad to be let off his leash to wander while I laid out the blanket and settled in with a scone to read.

The first letter was the oldest, written when Will was on the Australia run and the paper was rather yellowed.

Mother, Father,

Everything is running well, I am glad to have been able to switch to our tropical uniforms although even they are quite hot! The crossing is so long that the passengers have begun to complain that they are growing bored of everything onboard. Our poor stewards are hard pressed to come up with new forms of entertainment, much to our amusement. Even we deck officers have become rather bored though, and cannot help but watch whatever the stewards come up with. We have also begun conversing with passengers, much to the captain's consternation. He cautions us to be dutiful, but there is only so much to do. I have made the acquaintance of a schoolteacher, one Ada Banks. She is quite delightful, and we spent an afternoon comparing out homelands.

I hope you can meet her one day.

-William

I hastily folded the envelope back up, tucking it back into the basket. I hadn't realized the letters went back that far, back to Ada. I drew out the next one, noting that it was only a few years after the first.

Mother, Father,

Have only a minute to write before going down to dinner. I am so sorry that you could not be here for the wedding, although it was quiet. Ada and I simply wanted to have it done. She wants to come up after our honeymoon in Brittany, she says she wants to see where I grew up.

All my love,

-William

I shoved the letter down with the first, feeling tears prick my eyes. It was foolish to cry over this, I knew Will was married before. But to read it, to see how happy he was, it hurt. Although the next letter hurt worse.

Mother, Father,

I saw Ada off on the ship home today, Lights and Sylvie by my side. I cannot believe she is gone, that I will never come home to her happy cries and embraces again. I gave her one last kiss before sending her off, she was so cold. I still have my wedding ring on, I wanted to hurl it in the harbor when I returned home but couldn't do it. I, I cannot write more.

My poor Ada.

-William

I treated this letter much more gently, my heart tender at his words. Knowing Will had been through this heartbreak was making me cry, and I hastily dabbed my eyes with a corner of the blanket. I had to take a few deep breaths to remind myself that Will was happy now, that this was far behind him. I had more letters to page through, letters where Will spoke of his grief and how he threw himself into his work.

I had to dab a few more tears away when he mentioned in a letter than he had trouble remembering Ada's voice.

But slowly the grief in the letters ebbed away, and he spoke of nothing but work. He had dedicated himself to improving his seamanship, of climbing the ranks and making captain. My fingers trembled when I drew out a postcard, the name Titanic written jauntily across the top.

Mother, Father,

Our journey goes well, the ship is performing as expected. We are stopped off Queenstown, picking up passengers and mail. I have only a few minutes to write this before running it down to the mail boat, but wanted to send word along. I'll write a more detailed account in New York, but I have met someone. A woman, a most delightful woman that makes me hope I may be able to find another wife. I wish that it could be her, but alas, she is so far above me that I would need wings to reach her. But she has given me hope, and for that I will be forever grateful.

Your loving son,

-William

I smiled to see that, of my husband thinking of me as some angel that he was unworthy of even knowing. I had to admit that I had never seen him as below me, I had just seen him as a handsome man that I wanted to get to know. I didn't care about his status, I just enjoyed his company. The next letter was from later, when we had been in New York.

Father,

The American inquiry is finally concluded, thank God. I know another one awaits me in England, but at least I will be home. There is something comforting about the thought of my own home and my own bed, even though I know I will not see it for some time. I am exhausted of discussing that event, but it must be done. I have repeated the story of that night so many times I know I will never forget it, nor my role in it.

If there has been one good thing to come out of this, it is that I have the love of a woman and I love her too. Anastasia is a beacon of light in these times, enough that I feel unworthy of her in some ways. I wrote to you and Mother saying that I could never reach her, but now I feel as if I am a pair of chains dragging her down. The papers whisper about the two of us, and they have not one kind word to say about her. Perhaps it will be best for me to leave, to allow her some time to recover without a reminder of that night around.

Hoping to see you in London,

-William

I sighed as I set the letter aside, William was not a weight dragging me down. He was a confidant, a companion, a lover. I could not imagine my life without him in it, and if he ever thought of himself in that way again, I would do everything I could to convince him otherwise. His next letter was much happier.

Mother, Father,

I am writing to you from Ana's cottage up in Newport, although it is almost as big as her house in New York. It is truly a sailor's house, they have their own lighthouse across the cove. Ana is thrilled to be engaged, and I must admit it has been a long time since I had felt this happy. She is so full of life and happiness that it is hard to be anything but excited around her. Our engagement party was quite a large party, and Ana herself read to me what the society pages said about us.

It is an adjustment, getting used to seeing myself written about in such a manner. Often, I worry that I will always see my name accompanied by the name Titanic, but nowadays the only name alongside mine is Anastasia's. I have to admit, it doesn't bother me.

The wedding is slowly being planned, for next year, and I dearly hope to bring the both of you over for it.

Living in comfort now,

-William

I chuckled at that, remembering how Will had taken so long to adjust to everything. He really did fit in now though, even if he detested being out in society sometimes. I was proud that during those times I had made him happy, that I helped him not think about Titanic. He had done the same for me, and together we both made our way through. I had only one letter left, although there were dozens, if not hundreds, of letters back in his desk.

Mother, Father,

I must send my regrets about not being able to have you over for Christmas this year, things have been stressful and I feel it would be best for us to celebrate it together next year. I am not sure if it made the papers back home, but there was a large storm on the Great Lakes and one of Ana's ships was lost. She traveled there herself to see what she could do, at the expense of her health.

She had been melancholic since we returned to New York, and only seemed to get worse in the city. I cannot bear to see her wasting away, I already have nightmares of Ada in her sickbed, I do not need to see it before my eyes. I have taken her to a cabin we were gifted at our wedding, tucked away in the Vermont forests. The air seems to be doing her good, and I am reluctant to force our return to the city before she recovers.

Please give my love to everyone, and keep writing about Sam and Martha. I cannot believe my little brother finally found someone willing to tolerate him, she must have the patience of a saint. I'm sending along a number of presents, from the both of us.

Love from me, and from Ana,

-William

I clutched the letter to myself, remembering our last Christmas together, the last Christmas Jeannie was alive for. All I wanted to do was hug Will and thank him for being there for me, and for ensuring his parents didn't know about the depression I had fallen into. I hadn't purchased gifts for his parents, he had. He had fulfilled my obligations when I hadn't been able to, because he loved me. I sighed, folding up the letter, wishing that I was on my way to Edinburgh to see him. I knew it would be soon, but the wait was torture.