An Interruption

Pt 1

Rose DeWitt Bukater sat in front of the dressing table mirror, staring at her pale reflection. Her hair hung loose in matted red curls, awaiting a brush. Her eyes were a mixture of fear, sadness, relief, and confusion. She was still recovering from her 'accident' earlier that evening. She had come so close to escaping her suffocating life, so very close. She puzzled over whether it was a good thing that Mr. Dawson had convinced her not to jump from the ship, and that he had done her a favour in saving her life when she slipped on her beaded dress. Part of her was disappointed that she hadn't just been left to fall. That part was growing quieter and quieter as she thought.

Her thoughts were all of Mr. Dawson and his apparent zest for life, despite being poorer than a dormouse. He was traveling, seeing the world and living life as it came. He was free, and it intrigued her. Her own life was laid before her like a formal banquet. The further the Titanic sailed, the closer she was to becoming Cal's wife. The closer she was to being permanently trapped. Both of them were at such opposite ends of the spectrum that it was almost a wonder as to the purpose of their meeting. What 'proper' male would be outdoors so late unaccompanied by a soul? One who seemed to be very straight, not one for prying on young girls as he so wrongly had been accused of. Then, what 'proper' girl would be outside so late, also?

Rose opened her music box, and a sweet melody filled the air. It reminded her of her childhood. She was groomed to be a perfect bride for a rich aristocrat; she was taught everything a well brought up woman should know and social etiquette was drummed into her from a very young age. Despite this, she was still quite innocent of it all. When she was younger she had no idea about the grand plans her parents schemed for her. This innocence was conveyed through the gentle chimes of the music box. Rose picked up her hand mirror. She looked at her reflection closely. She was seventeen. She was hardly out of her childhood and yet she felt so old at that moment. So weary, as though by knowing her future she had no need for energy and enthusiasm. However, as soon as she thought of the lower-class man who had saved her, she felt and saw her cheeks brightening, and something sparkled in her eyes. The first time her eyes had fully met his, she had felt something stir in her stomach, something which fluttered about almost like a loose butterfly. Under the dim light of the decks, she was struck by how blue they had been. He had dazzled her and now, examining the situation, she wondered if that had been the fore reason of her clumsy footing and the terror of the fall.

Rose heard a knock at her door. She wiped the mirror and gently placed it back onto the dressing table, looking into the larger mirror in front of her to see who was entering. Caledon Hockley stood in the doorway. As the door opened, he leaned against the frame casually. She pressed her lips together, preparing herself for their exchange in words.

"I know you've been melancholy," he said gently, almost lovingly, fitting in quite well with the still tinkling music box. "I don't pretend to know why," he continued.

He entered the room, closing the door behind him to ensure thorough privacy.

Cal walked over and pushed the music box out of the way, sitting down on the dressing table. The music halted abruptly, the reminder of her innocent childhood gone, bringing Rose's thoughts back to harsh reality.

"I intended to save this until the engagement gala next week, but..." He sighed, flipping open a greyish black box and revealing the most beautiful necklace Rose had ever seen. It was a fascinating shade of blue and was glittering with a diamond chain. Cal continued, pleased that Rose was so taken aback by its beauty. "I thought that tonight…" he trailed off, as Rose reached out at the necklace.

"Good gracious!" she gasped.

"Well, this is a reminder of…my feelings for you." Cal grinned, a superior grin. He was back on top now. She was enthralled.

'Is it a diamond?''

Cal cut her off. ''Yes.'' He leapt from the table and, grinning with pleasure, he placed the necklace around his fiancée's exposed neck. "Fifty-six carats to be exact," he explained. "It was worn by Louis XVI. They called it Le Coeur de la Mer…"

"The Heart of the Ocean," Rose translated, interrupting her fiancé, who seemed to assume she had no knowledge of French. He affirmed her translation. Rose was in awe of the diamond. It was so lavish, such an expensive gift. Her mother would be beside herself if she knew that Cal had given her such a token of affection.

She could not help but wonder at his reason for giving it to her. A reminder of his feelings for her? Did he love her this much? Or was he buying her with lavish gifts? Rose could not tell, but she was fascinated by the blue diamond. She touched it slightly with the tips of her fingers, half thinking that it would disappear and be her imagination. Cal held her eyes in the reflection of the mirror. She stared back at him.

"It's overwhelming," she said in a rather unenthusiastic voice. As amazing a gift as this was, her melancholy refused to let her become more animated. She was feeling quite uncomfortable, and not just by the heavy, expensive diamond around her neck. Cal's stare made her feel somewhat fearful. She looked back to the diamond. It was heavy, like a dog collar around her neck.

"Well, it's for royalty," Cal answered matter-of-factly. "We are royalty, Rose."

Surprised, Rose looked back to Cal's stare. It seemed quite arrogant to class oneself as royalty. His family was wealthy. They were aristocratic, yes, but there was certainly not royalty.

Cal moved closer. He leaned on the dressing table, staring intently once more.

"You know…there is nothing I couldn't give you, Rose."

Rose felt sure he was wrong. She was sure he could not give her freedom and happiness. She was sure he would not respect her as an equal. He was not talking of feelings, though. She knew he was talking of materialistic goods for that was all he could ever offer her, and that wasn't his fault, it was simply the way they had been brought up. She found the Dawson boy came into her mind and how the blue of the stone seemed to match the intensity of his eyes. Suddenly, she was drawn into the mirror, her eyes fixated onto the stone.

"There's nothing I'd deny you."

She'd be denied a voice. Denied choice in her life. He chose her meals, decided whether or not she could smoke. He even said he would mediate what she read after her outburst at lunch. She looked at him, waiting for the 'but' or the 'if'.

He turned from the mirror and looked at her directly.

"If you would not deny me."

He stared at her, his eyes imploring her for something. His eyes scared her. Outside, he held composure, but his eyes showed he was some sort of animal inside. The heat emitting from his dark eyes was intense. It was lust. It was desire. It was conveyed in such a way that he was not even asking. He was telling her silently that he deserved some sort of reward.

"Open your heart to me, Rose," he continued, his arm on her shoulder, nudging her slightly. Rose was filled with uncertainty and fear. He had just given her this gift, this lavish, expensive, almost romantic gift. She began to feel like she did owe him. She looked back in the mirror and her hand covered the blue diamond heart around her neck. She slowly moved her hand up along the chain until her hand was stretched around her throat, as though she were going to choke herself. The feeling of entrapment set in once again.

Cal, oblivious to her inner turmoil, leaned in and moved his lips onto hers. She was expecting it. She was dreading it, but guilt made her defenceless. She could hear her mother's voice echoing in the back of her mind.

"We need Cal and the fortune your marriage will bring. If you don't marry Cal, we are going to be destitute. Do what Cal says. Better to let him have you than to have us end up in the poorhouse with you making our money by being a streetwalker, God forbid."

Cal lifted her up, kissing her deeply. She hardly returned the kiss for she hadn't even known how to. She was too fearful and in too much inner turmoil to react. Cal seemed not to notice, this was the closest he had ever been to her and he was too aroused to stop now.

He carried her over to her bed, placing her down and breaking the kiss. His eyes were full of lust. Rose tried to reason to herself. Cal was a good man, wasn't he? He was a little arrogant, but he did care for her, didn't he? Maybe she cared for him. Maybe this was what love was? Her mother never showed any particular outward affection for her father when he was alive. Maybe, Rose thought, her own relationship with Cal was the same?

Cal began to undress himself, and he pulled Rose's white nightdress over her head and stared for a moment at the curls of red hair that cascaded down over her shoulders and mingled with the beautiful diamond necklace, resting on her pale silken skin.

His hands roamed her body; Rose closed her eyes and let him get on with it, feeling hot and bothered but not happy. She realised that she was going to lose her virginity before her wedding night. Quite often she had wondered what it would be like, but never had she imagined this. She'd expected some sort of pleasure, but she was feeling only dread and guilt. Cal kissed her and was beginning to get quite flustered. He was panting between kisses.

"Rose, are you ready?" Cal panted, his eyes misted with desire. He hardly paid attention to her unsure nod. She could not summon words. She clenched the bed sheets as tight as she could and steeled herself for whatever would come next...

...a knock at the door; quick, loud and uncertain.

''Miss. Rose?'' A voice called. The knock sounded once more.

Rose's body stiffened beneath Cal. Her eyes watered as she realised that the door was unlocked. Cal, too seemed to realise and he jumped from atop her and retrieved his clothing hesitantly and angrily. He glared at the door.

''Oh, just a moment.'' Rose called, her voice was shaking but she tried to remain calm.

Rose pulled a kimono around her body. Cal adjusted his hair. He went to the door, opening it quickly and widely. Trudy, her personal maid stood in her uniform, her cheeks reddened. ''I am sorry for the intrusion, Mr. Hockley. I just-''

''It's quite all right.'' He spoke through gritted teeth. ''It had better be good.''

Trudy stammered for a moment before glancing to Rose. ''Actually-it-it,''

''Oh, bother!'' Cal waved his hand in the air to dismiss it. ''Come to me afterward, Rose.'' He nodded to her. ''We have much to do.'' A small smile came across his mouth.

Yes, he was like the cat that ate all of the cream. She had been one thrust away from losing her virginity and she trembled as though he had taken it from her right there and then. Trudy noticed the tremor of Rose's body.

''Oh, Miss?'' She held out her arms to steady Rose as she backed her into the bedroom and locked the door behind them.

''Yes. I am sorry.'' Rose regained her composure as she sat on the bed. ''Please remove this God-awful thing and put it back in that box there.''

Trudy nodded as she moved Rose's hair and unclasped the necklace as she felt the weight of it, she raised her brows in surprise. If she was affected further by the beauty of the diamond, she didn't give it away. Rose had almost given up her virginity to a man in return for a fifty-six-carat diamond. She felt as though she were one of those streetwalkers her mother often talked about Rose becoming in their desolation.

Once again, thoughts of Jack Dawson sprung into Rose's mind. A reminder of the freedom she now could not have. She had tied herself to Cal by almost giving her body to him, he had seen her naked body, touched her and kissed her. Her mother would not let her escape the match now, not now that Cal held the DeWitt Bukater reputation in his grasp.

She was not in love with Cal but needed him now. She had not opened her heart to him, however. She reserved her heart. She almost wished that she were back out on deck above the choppy, icy waters. She wished she was back with the only man who had ever treated her like a person, not an object. A man she barely even knew.

Trudy came to Rose, placing her hands on either shoulder. ''Miss, you look unwell but I have something to discuss with you.''

Rose tried to focus on the empathy in Trudy's eyes. She took a deep breath. ''Please, continue.''

''I know this evening has not been an easy one, but, there is someone who requires your attention, now, usually I must alert Mr. Lovejoy but he retired once you returned from above decks.'' Trudy wrung her hands. ''And, he asked for your presence only.''

''Who did?''

''Mr. Dawson.''