Across the Living Infinite

Prologue

James

In Mayfair, London, James Thomas Morrow was stuffing the last of his belongings into a well-worn leather trunk as he mentally prepared to bid farewell to his fellow staff at the Fairleigh Estate.

Sunlight was barely peeking over the horizon, and most Londoners were only just starting to wake.

After packing his straight razor, boar bristle brush, and shave soap into a small wooden traveling box, James retrieved his favorite photograph of George from his nightstand, picking it up gently so as not to smudge it.

His chest pinched, and the sharp sensation briefly stole the breath from his lungs.

He hoped that he could keep the photograph safe.

James hovered it above the closed traveling box for a couple of seconds, thinking that maybe he ought to keep it pressed between the wood and his steward’s uniform, but then he reconsidered, worrying that he might lose it somehow or that it might wrinkle if the contents of his luggage shifted.

After admiring George’s sweet smirk for a moment more, he slipped the photograph into his wallet instead. When James moved to shut the trunk, a voice from behind him caused him to startle.

“I can hardly believe that you’ll be in the middle of the Atlantic this time tomorrow.”

He huffed a light laugh and pushed himself to his feet but then paused for an extra second before turning around as the sentiment behind his closest friend’s words finally reached his heart.

In only a few hours’ time, he’d be aboard what was purported to be the grandest ship in the world, beginning his life anew as an employee of the White Star Line. Who knew how long it might be before he’d see Maggie again.

Swallowing hard to try to push away the sudden swell of emotion, James turned to face his friend, only to regret it the moment he saw her misty eyes, the green in them shimmering like emeralds. He forced a smile.

“It might take a bit longer to reach the exact middle of it,” he replied cheekily.

With pursed lips, Maggie shook her head as though to silently scold him. The movement caused the couple of red curls that were spilling out from underneath her white maid’s cap to sway back and forth.

“It’s a figure of speech.”

“Not one that I’ve ever heard.”

Resting a hand on her hip, Maggie tilted her head and leveled what was probably supposed to have been a threatening look, though she was still clearly attempting to conceal a burgeoning smile.

“James Thomas Morrow, is this the way that you want to spend our last minutes together? Squabbling over a mere couple of words? Doesn’t matter to me whether you’ll be in the middle of the Atlantic or only circling the British Isles. You won’t be here with me.”

James heaved a sigh. He took her hands in his.

“Oh, Mags, but that’s exactly why I’m picking a fight. It hurts my heart to leave.”

“Stay, then,” she said. “Bruce Ismay can find someone else to be a steward by the time that the ship is scheduled to set sail.”

“In six hours? I can’t imagine that such a thing would be possible.”

Maggie’s hint of a smile vanished, and she looked away.

“When that man was here meeting with Mr. Fairleigh, blathering on about hiring for his wonder ship . . . oh, the way your eyes lit up, I knew for sure you’d be trying for a spot even before Mr. Fairleigh suggested it.”

“It’s a wonderful opportunity for me,” James said. “I can see the world a little.”

“You have no interest in traveling for traveling’s sake, James,” she said with a pitying look.

“Don’t think you can pull the wool over my eyes so easily.

There’s no need to pretend that you’re some fearless adventurer.

You’d much rather be lounging in front of a fire, working on those sweet little romance stories than flitting from place to place on some ship, even if she is supposed to be some sort of marvel. ”

“You’re right.” James took a pause to try to find his words. “But trust me when I say that I have no other choice. Losing George has been . . .”

He trailed off, sorrow stirring in his chest.

Maggie nodded. “I know.”

“It breaks my heart to leave, but I know I have to. It’s been .

. . by God, it’s been three years, Mags.

I’m ready to move on, to move forward, but I can’t seem to manage it here.

I followed your advice to keep myself busy, but still, I feel like I’m stuck in the past. Every time I see his old flat, I begin to think about the time we spent together there, and I .

. .” James’s eyes filled with tears. Blowing out a trembling breath, he blinked them away.

“Sorry. I’m so lost without him. I feel like a ghost sometimes.

Like somehow, a part of me, or maybe even most of me, died with him.

I can’t even write my romances now. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to be, how to feel. ”

Maggie’s lips curled into a small, sympathetic smile.

“I miss my brother, too,” she said. “Go heal your heart, James. London will still be here when you’re ready to come back to it.”

“And you?”

“I’ll be here, too.”

James’s chest tightened, and he cupped her cheek.

He loved Maggie as much as he loved George, even if this particular love wasn’t a romantic one, and it pained him to leave her.

But he had no idea what else to do. Ever since George’s passing, he had moved through life as though in a fog.

He felt so empty, so purposeless, and it seemed like no matter how much time had passed since the rail yard accident, he couldn’t manage to fix it.

Couldn’t manage more than a week without revisiting certain memories—memories like seeing George in secret a couple of times while inside the estate’s walls, even sneaking him into the wine cellar on occasion, or once bringing George up to his bedroom while the Fairleighs were on holiday in France.

James needed to refind himself somehow. To rekindle his love of life.

And the RMS Titanic seemed like as fine a place as any to start over.

James had once heard it said that the sea was a place where man was never lonely.

And so, perhaps a new connection, whether to his fellow crewmates or even only to the beauty of nature, could be precisely what he needed to finally feel something again.

But, by God, he’d miss Maggie Byrne.

“I promise I’ll write,” he said.

“Good. Because I’ve written you something already.” Maggie reached into the front pocket of her dress and pulled out a letter. She held it out for him to take. “Here.”

“You’re too much,” he said with a light laugh.

“I’m not. It was the least I could do—provide you with a bit of entertainment while you’re at sea.

After all, you stayed here in Mayfair longer than you were supposed to so that we could spend more time together before that ship leaves for the States.

And now, because of that—because of me—I bet you’ll be one of the only crew members on that boat train to Southampton.

Arriving with the passengers only hours before setting sail .

. .” She frowned, worry lines rippling across her forehead.

“Oh, James, you won’t even have time to settle in before they put you to work, will you?

I wouldn’t be surprised if you find yourself sleeping on the floor since you haven’t claimed a berth by now. ”

Crooking an eyebrow, James laughed a bit more. “Do you think that they have fewer beds than crew members on the most luxurious ship in the world? Of course I’ll have a bed.”

“I hope so.” Maggie’s tear-filled eyes flitted over to the mantel clock. “Well, I better not keep you. I know you still want to say farewell to some of the others, Mr. and Mrs. Fairleigh included if they’re awake.” James only nodded. “You know, they’ll never replace you.”

“Didn’t they hire a new footman yesterday?” he said through a chuckle.

“You know what I mean,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You’re one of a kind, James Morrow.”

He smiled warmly. “As are you, Maggie Byrne.”

They stared at each other for a few long ticks of the clock. And then James turned to check the time. In less than one hour, he’d be on the boat train for Southampton, as long as he managed to make it to the station before seven thirty.

“It’s time,” Maggie said.

James exhaled sharply. “It is.”

He turned, placed the letter in his luggage, and snapped the trunk shut.

Tears welled in his eyes as he stood, clutching the handle.

But then he immediately placed it back on the floor next to his feet so that he could pull Maggie in for one final hug.

Removing her maid’s cap, James buried his face in her coarse, springy hair while struggling to hold back tears.

And he prayed to God that he was making the right choice.