"You are right, darling, a very grand ship, indeed." Stepping out of our motor vehicle onto the ports of Southampton, England I saw a ship so grand in scale and so luxurious that it made the other boats and "ships" around it look like toy boats and ships. This was Titanic, the RMS Titanic. "They say that she was designed in Belfast by an Irishman by the name of Thomas Andrews. Fifteen thousand Irishmen built this ship, as I understand it."
But my fiancé was hardly listening to me. "_ come, we must be on our way, we don't want to be tardy, you know and your Mother and Aunt Margaret are waiting for us at the ramp for the first class passengers.
He offered me his hand and I reluctantly took it. He may have been my fiancé but I did not love him and we were to be married in America at month's end. This voyage was to be one of reluctance and my last time as a "free" woman. I was only eighteen and my mother (who had always taken foolish living ideas from the Dewitt Buckaters) wished me to marry a certain Mr. Jonathan Morgan. He was very wealthy and his father had a successful business in textile factories. He was to take over that job when his stuffy father died. In the meantime, he would gamble on horse races and talk politics and business with "great men."
The port was crowded with people of all ages, ethnicities and class. We headed swiftly to the first class ramp and I watched as the lower class people went onto the lower decks. Our bags were immediately taken to the ships interior and as I met my mother; Victoria _ and my Aunt Margaret _ we were welcomed by an officer; "Welcome to Titanic!"
We moved onto our rooms. I observed beautifully crafted walls, ceilings with arcs, elevators, fine carpets and many wealthy, well-dressed respectable people crowded about. Jon saw a man whom he had, had a business relation with and began discussing matters with him. I looked about as I watched my mother and aunt approach a woman; The Countess of Roth's. At this moment I noticed a very handsome man who was writing in a small black book. He looked deeply intrigued in whatever he was doing and I noticed he was quite obviously a first class passenger well-dressed in a handsome gray suit. My eyes strayed to a wall near him; I observed a particularly lovely oil painting on the wall nearest the doors to the smoking room for first class. I approached it. The painting was of a bright open sea and a glorious sunset that looked so real that it took everything in my power not to put my hand to the painting in hope that perhaps I might feel that sun and smell that ocean.
I was pulled from my trance by a handsome voice. I could tell the man was Irish right away because of his accent. "Hello, Miss. It's beautiful, isn't it?" It was the handsome man I had seen not moments ago. His dark brown eyes looked gently into my green and I suddenly relaxed. "Yes," I said, "It's lovely, I adore the ocean and I love seeing paintings like this one. Who is the artist?"
"I believe it is a Monet." He turned to me again and smiled, extending a hand. "My name is Thomas Andrews." He took my hand and kissed it gently. My heart fluttered and a blush was coming to my cheeks.
"My name is _ _; I have heard of you, you designed Titanic."
"Yes, I did." He said all too modestly, "I hope you enjoy your journey to America, _."
"Thank you, Mr. Andrews."
"Please, call me Thomas."
His smile made me smile and I blushed, again. "Thomas."
"Dear, dear please we must get to our rooms." Jon stood their impatiently and the man he had been talking to was beginning to walk away. "I am coming, darling." Jon approached us and acknowledged Thomas. "It's a Pleasure, sir."
As I made introductions I said to Jon, "Thomas Andrews is the man who designed Titanic."
"Ah!" he said, with great enthusiasm, "A great pleasure, sir! What a feat! I do hope you will join us at our table tonight so we may discuss your work further."
Thomas eyed me then said, "Of course, thank you."
"Good, Come _."
As I walked off with Jon I felt the happy fluttering feeling disperse. I looked back at Thomas and he smiled at me, tipped his tin gallon hat and walked towards the elevators. Now, that was a gentleman.