Chapter One

The ship loomed high above us. I stepped out of the car after Rose, and I drew in a breath, amazed by the sight of it.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about; it doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania," Rose said, her mouth set. I knew she was just trying to annoy Cal, who seemed to be as proud of the ship as if he had been the one who had built it.

"Rose, don't be silly," I argued. "It's much bigger than the Mauritania, and if what Cal says is true, it's bound to be much nicer."

"Nicer than the Mauritania? I doubt it," Rose said, and walked off a distance. My first impulse was to follow her, but I stifled it, forcing myself to remain behind as Cal helped Mother out of the car and paid a man to take care of the bags.

"Come along, Margaret," my mother called imperiously, following Cal. I followed without question, it being my objective in life to anger my mother as little as possible, except when it was absolutely necessary. Because of this, it was widely known that I was by far my mother's favorite, and Rose, unlike other children, had always been glad of this, because it allowed her to have some distance between her and our meddlesome mother.

I stared up at the ship as we walked up the gangplank that would lead us to our first-class suite of rooms. Rose led the way, her expression serious, and I could only speculate as to what she was thinking. But I tried to forget about her, at least for the time being, and marvel at the magnificence of the Titanic.

"Rose, this way," I called, as she stopped and stared at the marvelous inlaid carvings. She colored slightly and hastened her steps so that she caught up with us. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked, trying to make conversation. But Rose simply nodded her head and continued to stare.

We had a suite of four rooms, all of them connected and complete with a shared sitting room and private promenade deck. I chose the room next to Rose's, and Cal was given the other one next to the Rose's. I hastened to unpack my things, eager to change out of the hideous green frock Mother had forced me to don that morning. I was assisted by my maid, Charlotte, who had followed us around the world for the last five years of my life. I considered her a close friend, and often told her secrets I did not wish anyone else to know.

"Where do you want this to go, Miss Margaret?" she asked, holding up a painting of a bridge. I pointed to the space of empty wall over the nightstand. She obediently hung it up as I continued hanging up dresses in the armoire.

"What do you think of this dress, Charlotte?" I asked, holding up a pale blue dress with a pink sash and lace at the neck and sleeves. I thought to wear it to lunch that day.

"It's very nice, Miss Margaret," Charlotte agreed. I had long ago instructed her to be perfectly honest with me, and I knew that she was being truthful. She was one of the few people I knew who were not afraid to tell me that a dress I owned was hideous, and I appreciated it.

I laid the dress out on my bed, ready to wear.

"Margaret, I'm going up on deck. Do you want to come?" Rose asked. She had finished packing, and had taken off the jacket that matched the skirt she wore.

"Yes, of course. But I want to first change out of this wretched thing," I said, tugging at the velvet skirt. Rose laughed and nodded.

"Alright, come to my room when you're done," she instructed.

Charlotte abandoned the unpacking that she had been doing and helped me out of the green dress. She then tightened my corset and helped me into my dress of choice.

"Hang up that green thing at the very back of my closet, if you please," I instructed as I let down a part of my hair and pinched my cheeks to add more color. I stood up straight and observed my reflection in the mirror. "How do I look, Charlotte?"

"Beautiful, Miss Margaret," Charlotte said, and handed me a straw hat with blue ribbons trailing out behind it. She also fished out some lace gloves from the bottom of my trunk, as well as a pale blue shawl that matched my dress. "You might want to hang on to your hat, Miss Margaret. I've been told it's quite windy up on deck."

I thanked her and went into Rose's room. She had dressed in a pink dress that matched mine, and laughed when she saw me.

"We do think alike, don't we?" she asked, grabbing a shawl exactly like mine.

It was quite windy up on deck, just as Charlotte had warned. I clung to my hat with one hand, while my other was linked through Rose's. I suddenly let go of Rose's arm and clutched at the railing, surprised and a little scared by the speed we were going. Occasionally water splashed up on us, and when this happened we laughed and thought of what Mother would say.

I looked around me, and noted that most of the people were from third class. That didn't bother me, but I smiled, thinking about how shocked Mother would be if she knew we were mingling with the common folk.

Looking back at Rose, I noticed that her expression was happier that it had been in days. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the wind, and her hair was flying wildly out behind her. I had to admit, she looked beautiful, and I was not at a loss to wonder why Cal would marry her even though he knew she had no dowry to offer him.

"Margaret, isn't it wonderful up here?" she asked, throwing her arms wide to indicate the ship. I laughed and nodded.

"Yes, it is," I whispered. I knew then, though I wouldn't admit it to myself, that this was where Rose belonged, and not in some fancy mansion that Cal built for her, or even Mother's country home, which had been in such disrepair since Father died. She belonged at sea, on the Titanic.