Page 43 of The Orphan of Cemetery Hill
The woman’s eyes snapped shut as she drew in a sharp breath. Then she was surveying him cautiously again. “And who are you to her? How do I know I can trust you?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” he said, feeling suddenly protective of Tabby.
“You’re the one who followed me. I hardly think you’re in a position to demand information from me.”
“And yet, I would know with whom I was speaking.”
She studied him for what felt like an eternity before saying, “My name is Alice.” She swallowed. “Tabitha is my sister.”
It was Caleb’s turn to stare at her in silent shock. Tabby had never mentioned that she had a sister, had never even hinted at any living family beyond Eli. And yet, he realized that he had suspected, even if he had not fully admitted it to himself, that the picture could have been only one person.
He realized that she was saying something, and he shook himself out of his stupor. “What?”
“I said you had better tell me your name and how you know my sister, or I’ll have Malcom have a go at you.” She drew herself up. “I need to know I can trust you, that you aren’t one ofthem.”
“I don’t know whotheyare,” he replied. She was acting as if there was some conspiracy afoot, so he opted for honesty. “Caleb Bishop,” he said with a neat bow, “of Bishop & Son Shipping. A friend of Tabby’s.” And, because he found that he was nervous and couldn’t help himself, he added, “Mr. Pope if I owe you money from cards.”
If she understood the joke, her expression didn’t show it. His neck had grown hot under her scrutiny. All his hoping and work and prayers had come to a head, and now that he had found her, he couldn’t leave without answers. Finally, she gave him a curt nod. “All right,” she said, turning and briskly walking to a table in the corner. He let out a long, slow breath and followed.
He had barely sat down, when she was leaning across the table, gripping his hands with surprising strength. “Tabby is alive, then? She’s all right?”
Good God, she really didn’t know. “Er, yes. Last I saw her she was fine.” But was she still fine? Had Whitby caught up to her? A wave of guilt followed by regret crashed through him. How could he have just left her there? He had taken the lifeline thrown to him, and hadn’t even paused to consider that he hadn’t been the only one drowning.
Alice let out a breath and relaxed her grip. The picture had admirably captured her beauty and quiet dignity, but it hadn’t prepared him for the intensity of her eyes. If Tabby’s eyes were like green mountains shrouded in clouds, then Alice’s were the sparkling reflection on a lake. Her expression was wary, guarded. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“One hundred and forty-seven days ago.”
“That’s an awfully specific number.”
He cleared his throat and endeavored to look casual. “Yes, well, I have a head for numbers,” he managed in a mumble.
Alice gave him a queer look. “Just what is your relationship with my sister?”
“She’s a friend. A dear friend.” Would that he had left Boston with something more, but dolt that he was, it had taken crossing the ocean to realize just what he had left behind.
“I see.” Alice drummed her fingers on the rough table, suddenly looking younger, vulnerable. “Does...does Tabby ever talk about me?”
Caleb chose his words carefully. “She never mentioned that she had a sister, no.”
Alice nodded, but did not offer any explanation. Hesitating, Caleb tried to decide the best way to coax the truth from her. But he was too curious to be tactful. “What brought you to London without Tabby? And now Edinburgh?”
At first it didn’t seem as if Alice had heard him; she was staring at her hands, which were clutched around her cup. The sound of glasses clinking and the boisterous voices of the after-work crowd swelled up around them. When she spoke, it was sudden and in a low, urgent tone.
“What do you know of resurrection men?”
Taken by surprise by the sudden change of subject, Caleb frowned. “I know that grave robbing used to be a lucrative business in the medical field, and that there has been a spate of snatchings lately in Boston after a decade of nothing.” He didn’t mention that his own father had been a victim.
Alice nodded. “Edinburgh lives in the shadow of the murderers and body snatchers Burke and Hare, even twenty years later. But even before I came here, I’d heard stories of men digging up the graves of the freshly dead in Massachusetts for dissection and experimentation.” She wrinkled her nose in a gesture that reminded him of Tabby. “I never thought that someday my fate would be so bound up in the actions of such men.”
She took a long breath, and Caleb waited for her to continue. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Did Tabby ever tell you anything of her early life?”
Tabby knew so much about him, from his distaste for the shipping business, to his history with his father. But he knew very little of her aside from the fact that she was fiercely loyal to Eli and Mary-Ruth. He suddenly realized he was hungry to know everything about her, and ashamed that he had never asked when he’d had the chance. He shook his head.
“I suppose not, given that she never mentioned me.” Alice sighed. “Our parents died in a carriage accident when I was ten years old and Tabby just seven. Our mother’s sister and her husband took us in, being that they were our only family. It was no secret in town that our mother was a clairvoyant and they assumed that Tabby and I were, as well. We—”
Caleb nearly choked on his drink. “Wait. You’re telling me that you and Tabby are... That you have...” he trailed off. Good God, had Tabby been telling the truth? Was it even possible?
Alice looked surprised. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything, but in order to understand the story I’m about to tell, you need to understand where we came from.”
