Chapter 1

Bon Voyage

He hit quick and he hit hard with two feet on the ground and a shrewd head in the clouds. Ready to sling the bull and reel in the ample rewards with a dimple in his cheek and a one-way ticket in his hand.

Boo hoo to the tight-lipped widows who should have been as selfish with their money as they were with their sense of humor. The wealthier the fool, the greater the grift!

He was sorry to say his latest meal ticket endeavor, a fortiesh something harridan by the name of Margaret Francis Walcott, would have to hold onto her fortune, and what was sure to be her dry twat-given her frigid affections-a little while longer.

His mother, long discontented at his lack of respectable employment, had sent word.

Leon was to come home at once, without delay. His father had taken ill. Pneumonia. A plea to answer the call of family duty at the request of the one person it was impossible to deny.

Undoubtedly his sister, a Pennsylvania socialite by way of marriage, was already on her way.

The dubious little bitch eager to bend their father's ear in further slander of his character and twitter the gossip of his latest reprehensible wrongdoings to their mother.

The rest of the crows, distant relations in the habit of flocking when dire health brings the promise of wealth, would be hot on his not so dear sister's heels.

He'd be lucky to find two pennies to rub together when he arrived.

The conveyance crawled to a halt amid an amiable throng of friends, relatives, and enthusiastic onlookers gathered elbow to elbow on the pier, overflowed onto the dock, and crowded into the street, come to bid the passengers and crew a hearty farewell and good tidings on their maiden voyage.

For once the newspaper hounds had been right.

His gaze devoured her in all her elaborate glory. Mouth open. Slack jawed.

She was a staggering marvel of human ingenuity and craftsmanship. Majestic and beautiful. The undisputed Queen of the high seas. The newest and brightest jewel in the White Star crown. Regal in her sumptuous fittings and sleek in her elegant lines. A luxurious leviathan resplendent in comfort and stability.

If it were not for the reason behind his mother's summons he would have marveled at his good fortune and reveled in his opportunity to sample the opulent ship's decadent offerings as one of the privileged, one of the wealthy elite.

He tipped the driver a generous sum, courtesy of Margaret, and pushed his way through the cheering crowd.

He ambled up the first class gangway. His spirits high, and his mood much improved from the night before.

"A fine day, Sir," said the white uniformed crewman who waited at the top of the ramp.

"Indeed it is," Leon replied.

"May I see your ticket, Sir?"

Leon plucked the stub from his pocket and passed it into the crewman's outstretched hand.

The crewman nodded. "Very good, Sir." He waved him forward. "Welcome aboard Titanic."