CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Rachel checked her spreadsheet, confirming the date of the last letter against the next dated entry in the ledger. One letter remained before a several week gap in correspondence between Polidori and Mary, and she hoped the ledger would fill in the missing narrative.
The last sip of burgundy mellowed across her tongue just as there came a gentle knock on the door. She pulled her dressing gown tight and tied the sash at her waist. “Come in.”
“I was hungry and thought you might be, too.” Aubrey settled a tray on the desk. Cheese and onion toasties, the cheese gooey and still bubbling. Two small long-stemmed tulip glasses of Porto.
“You read my mind.” Rachel pushed the ledger to the back of the desk and pulled off her gloves. “I wasn’t really in the right frame of min
