Warren Ducane was deep in conversation with O’Connor, who was making drinks for the new arrivals, and Helen was talking to Lily, so it wasn’t too surprising that Kyle Yeager joined us. Auburn pulled him into the conversation.

“Kyle just graduated from Dartmouth, Irene,” Auburn said, with so much pride, I thought maybe this was his godson.

“Congratulations,” I said. “What did you major in?”

I heard a familiar voice say, “Now, that’s an original question.”

O’Connor had brought their drinks over, and handed them off as he said this.

I felt my face turn red.

“But a natural question,” Kyle Yeager said quickly. He smiled at me. “I’ll answer it, even though you’re going to think I’m a nerd when I tell you. I majored in computer science, with a minor in geography. If it had been up to me…”

“He’s being modest,” Auburn said. “He didn’t tell you that he has also been accepted into Dartmouth’s prestigious business school, Tuck.”

“Must make your old man proud, Kyle,” O’Connor said, in a tone I’d never heard him use before. “Preparing to take the reins of Yeager Enterprises?”

I saw a quick flash of anger on Kyle’s face, then he smiled. “I’m surprised to discover a man in your profession who knows so little town gossip,” he said to O’Connor-calmly, if you ignored a certain martial light in his eyes. “I’m a bastard, so I have no idea if my ‘old man’ would be proud, ashamed, or even if he’s alive to hear what’s become of me.”

“I meant no offense-”

“Of course you meant offense,” Kyle said, his tone just as pleasant as before. “As did I. Although I’m a little better informed than you, it seems-I know you’re a reporter for the Express, and that you’ve never liked my adoptive father much. But just in case you are preparing a story-ownership of Yeager Enterprises will be handed over to Mitch Yeager’s own children, not to me.”

O’Connor smiled, too, more genuinely than Kyle had, I thought. “Well, now, that only proves that Mitch is as big a fool as I’ve always thought him. No, no-no need to get fired up again. Ms. Kelly is already angry at me, and I can’t take on the whole of your generation. But just so you know, tonight is off the record-Helen’s retired, and Irene and I have promised our hostess that neither of us will be writing about anything we hear this evening, Mr. Yeager.” He then excused himself and moved over to where the others were standing.

Helen was staring at Kyle with an odd look on her face, Warren looked as if he were about to be ill, and Lily seemed bemused. When I glanced at Auburn, I thought the two of them might be in on some private joke. This seemed even more likely when he said, “Excuse me, I need to speak to our hostess,” and moved away.

Next to me, Kyle said, “I’m sorry-I didn’t know you were a reporter.”

“According to some people here, I’m not much of one,” I murmured.

“Who? O’Connor?” he said. “Well, why should his opinion matter so much? It doesn’t to me.”

I should have felt comforted by this ready championship, but I heard some echo of my own indignation in his words and found I didn’t really like the way it sounded.

I glanced over at Helen, who seemed to be watching us more than listening to those who stood near her.

“You know what, Kyle? I shouldn’t have said that. The truth is, it does matter to me. He’s a great reporter, someone I’ve admired forever. I guess that’s why it bothered me when he criticized my work. But I deserved a lot of what he said, and he’s apologized more than once, so I suppose I shouldn’t keep harping on it. I need to move on, let it go.”

“That’s not always easy.”

“No,” I laughed. “But I’m making an enemy out of him for no real reason. I’m sorry if he’s written something negative about your dad-”

“Don’t be. Since we’re being honest about things, I’m not my dad’s biggest fan. And O’Connor never wrote anything untruthful about him, as far as I can tell. Listen-is it true that you aren’t here as a reporter?”

“Yes.”

He seemed to brood over something.

“Why geography?” I asked.

“Pardon?” he said, coming out of his reverie.

“I know why computer science is a hot major, but why the minor in geography?”

He smiled. “Professor George Demko. I took his class just because it fit my schedule in my freshman year. Contagious enthusiasm, I guess. My two fields of study aren’t as far apart as you’d think.”

For the next few minutes, he talked to me about navigation and Polaris submarines and atomic clocks and the launch of something called a GPS satellite, which he said would someday be able to prevent anyone from ever being lost. Eventually he lost me-or noticed he had lost me-and laughed and said, “Sorry-now you do think I’m a nerd.”

“Not at all. Why apologize for being intelligent? I’m just sorry I couldn’t keep up with you.”

“I suppose I got on to GPS because I’ve been thinking about the Ducanes. Do you know their story?”

“Warren’s family?” I shook my head.

“His father, mother, and his brother-Todd-were all lost at sea.”

“That’s awful,” I said, looking over to where Warren stood, staring up in a melancholy way at a portrait above the mantel, a painting of a beautiful young woman who somehow looked familiar.

“That’s Kathleen,” Kyle said of the portrait. “Katy, I think they called her. Mrs. Linworth’s daughter, who died in the same boating accident. Her daughter was married to Todd Ducane. Do you really not know this story?”

“No.”

“Well, I didn’t, either, until Mr. Sheffield gave me some articles to read. Actually, O’Connor and your friend Helen wrote many of them. A sad story.”

He told me about the night the Sea Dreamer’s passengers and crew disappeared, and Max Ducane was kidnapped.

Standing in the same room with members of both families, seeing the portrait of a vivacious young woman who was near my same age when she died, knowing the reporters who wrote many of the stories-for a few moments, I was simply stunned, and overwhelmed with sympathy for Lily Linworth- who was transformed in my mind from “her highness” to a mother who had lost both child and grandchild-and for Warren Ducane, whose air of being a lost soul was now perfectly understandable. So much devastation wrought all at once would have been difficult for any family to cope with. Twenty years had passed, but they were twenty years without loved ones. Life would not, could not, have been the same after that night.

Within a few moments, though, my reporter’s instinct began to give me an itch. “Kind of strange, don’t you think?” I said to Kyle. “I mean, the kidnapping taking place on the same night?”

“You don’t know how strange it gets,” he said with feeling.

We were called in to dinner before he could say more. Helen sat between Auburn and O’Connor, while I was placed between Kyle and Warren, and Lily presided at the head of the table.

There was only small talk while we ate the meal-leg of lamb, which I must admit was gloriously prepared. We had just been served a dessert of fresh strawberries and whipped cream flavored with a hint of Grand Marnier when Kyle said to Lily, “Irene is too young, of course, but did Mrs. Corrigan and Mr. O’Connor know your son-in-law and daughter well?”

All the clatter of silverware ceased abruptly.

Lily said, “They knew Kathleen very well, yes. I haven’t broken my promise to you, though. I’m sure they’re wondering why you mention her.”

“Because he resembles her,” Helen said, openly staring at him now. “Especially when you get angry, Kyle. Or-I don’t know-seem especially determined.”

“What is this all about?” O’Connor said irritably.

“Mr. Ducane has a theory that I am his lost nephew,” Kyle said. “He’s such a believer in this theory, he offered me a substantial financial incentive to start calling myself Max Ducane.”

This announcement caused an argument to break out between O’Connor and Warren Ducane, consisting mostly of O’Connor calling Warren a fool and Warren calling O’Connor a busybody who had no say in the matter. It hadn’t gone very far when Lillian Linworth said, “I won’t say I’m without my doubts, Conn, but I’m inclined now to think that there is at least a possibility that Warren may be right.”