For a short while, Julia and William were actually able to forgo mourning as they boarded the RMS Lucania, each taking the glass of champagne offered to them by a young footman. Though Julia was not in a celebratory mood per se, she was buoyed by the fact that William had come back to her, and that they were going to make repairs to what had been damaged. For his part, William took his customary small sips, not really drinking while appearing to be imbibing.
But to say that William was stunned as they walked into the first class lounge was an understatement. She giggled as she saw his face taking it all in. It was spectacular, with the leafy trees and plants creating a verdant atmosphere, a nice counterbalance to the heavy oak paneled walls. Rich velvet curtains complimented the fine, richly upholstered furnishings, providing a calm, inviting, yet exclusive atmosphere. William had traveled across the Atlantic before, however the sparse, small, utilitarian third class public rooms were nothing like this.
Feeling Julia tug on his arm to move him forward, he moved past the entrance to the dining saloon, which somehow laid the lounge to shame if such a thing were possible. Here a tall ceiling eventually gave way to a large skylight that allowed the pale winter sun to drift down and created an atrium-like effect, and one could easily forget that one had boarded a boat at all.
Silently, he stood and swiveled his head around before looking at her, one eyebrow raised, utterly amazed. Even Julia admitted it really was rather impressive.
"What were you expecting, William? I told you I was treating you to first class!" she laughed, tugging on his arm to continue to follow their steward who was showing them to their stateroom.
Once settled in the suite however, all frivolity was soon forgotten when grief and exhaustion from their ordeal asserted itself. After tipping the porter, William beckoned her closer.
"Have you given any thought as to where we'll take tonight's meal?" she asked, stepping into his arms. A part of her wanted to amaze William with the culinary delights the sumptuous first class dining saloon, but she wasn't particularly up to it tonight.
"As you wish," he offered, holding her tighter.
"Perhaps we you would be amenable to eating in our suite this evening? searching his face for disappointment. She found none.
His mouth formed a half smile as he loosened his arms a little as he looked at her. "I don't feel the need for other company, and besides…" he gestured with his eyes to their pile of trunks, "I don't want to have to dress for supper."
Looking upon him, here, standing in her suite with her, agreeing to go to Europe with her, made her heart sing. Words could not express how wonderful this made her feel, yet she tried her best. "Thank you for accompanying me, William. I didn't allow myself to even dream that you might come back and let alone undertake this voyage with me, I…" she broke off, overwhelmed.
"Of course, Julia," he fumbled, equally unsure of what to say.
They merely held one another until a steward knocked at the door to unpack their things.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
William rolled over on his back in the ship's berth, careful not to disturb his wife, stretching a little in the bed and feeling a light sway from the Atlantic Ocean's waves. The past three days and three nights, from Halifax to the middle of the ocean en route to London, the two of them has spent in quiet luxury on relatively calm seas, curled up in this first class stateroom. After their excruciating and exhausting week, it seemed to suit them both, allowing for simple rest and enough space for grieving. Little by little the barriers between them were thinning.
Beside him, Julia stirred, so he drew the sheet up over her naked shoulder and shifted her head to pillow in the crook of his arm. William took a second to carefully stroke her skin and kiss the top of her head, enjoying her softness against him. Last night she'd asked for them to disregard nightclothes and he'd been surprised; they had not been intimate in weeks and he assumed she was not physically healed yet for relations, and probably not inclined. Instead, it was a different intimacy she sought in their skin to skin embrace. Julia had wanted to be held and since he still needed to reassure himself she was near, that was perfectly fine with him.
This was the first morning he had any interest at all in venturing topside or to the salon, and since it was Sunday he was going to go to confession and attend the Mass in the Lucania's steerage. It was his first opportunity to formally thank God for another chance with Julia and be received back into his faith with communion. He fished his watch from the side table to see how much time he had, then slowly and gently disentangled himself from her to wash and dress.
"Julia? I'm off to church." As hard as it was to be parted from her, there was no other reason on the earth he'd leave her side. "I'll be back in time for breakfast." William saw her eyes open and thought he heard her murmur acknowledgement, but he left a note just in case. With any luck he'd be back before she even knew he was gone.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
No longer asleep, not yet fully awake, Julia reached across their bed and felt for William, searching for his warmth, but finding cool bed linens instead. Bolting upright in panic, for a brief moment she imagined she was back in Toronto at the start of her worst nightmare. Quickly enough, she found a short note on his pillow saying he was attending religious services and would return shortly. Nodding in understanding, her heart slowed and her breathing normalized, she refolded the note as she got out of bed. It was Sunday after all.
Reaching for her quilted wrapper and putting it on, she studied her reflection in the carved and gilded mirror. Making a face, she pulled the garment tighter as though it would hide the ugly truth of the past week. She'd certainly looked better, but it had also been only a week since she had miscarried and she'd gone through quite the emotional upheaval. Thankfully, the bleeding had subsided and she was starting to feel more like herself once again.
Given that it had already been three days in which she and William had been sequestered away, able, finally, to grieve together, to reconnect, Julia supposed it was time to rejoin the land of the living and wondered if he might accompany her on a walk around the deck. Perhaps she'd even let the staff know that they would dine in the saloon tonight, braving the company of others. She looked up when she heard the cabin door open, admitting William.
"Good morning, Julia." He set his hat down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "How are you feeling?" He saw the bruised-looking skin under her eyes was fading and that her colour was returning, for which he was very glad. "I am hungry this morning, are you? Shall I order breakfast?" he inquired, giving her an elegant menu for reference.
Julia nodded, relieved that he was back. "I'm better now that you're here," she replied with a smile, tugging at his tie. "As for your suggestion, I think I'd like that very much. Let's order breakfast and then help me dress will you? After we eat, I'd like to stretch my legs and take a nice stroll if you don't mind."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Considering that it was late November in the North Atlantic, the weather was understandably brisk. Four bracing trips around the upper deck later, the pair took shelter in the ship's library which held velvet club chairs and a cheery hearth. This was their first exploration of the ship and her amenities, even though they were not yet ready to become part of the community of passengers. The library was well-stocked and quietly populated by a couple of elderly ladies reading books, and a collection of gentlemen perusing the ship's newspaper, The RMS Lucania Daily, which offered the current headlines of the world via wireless telegraphy as well as expected sea conditions and weather forecast, followed by events aboard ship, and advertisements for the various amusements offered.
William's interest was piqued by the broadsheet, knowing its famous history tied to Marconi's wireless experimentations of 1903, and promised himself a trip to the communications room if he had an opportunity. But first things first...
William helped Julia divest herself of her coat and wrap, then pulled two chairs near the fire before casting an eye to the ship's news, which gave their general location in latitude and longitude and confirmed the meteorological conditions, which as William could attest to, was clear, and cold. Their journey had been peaceful so far, and no rough seas. He even joked as much as they settled in.
"At least this voyage seems to be a peaceful one so far. Let's hope it's nothing like the last time we were on a ship together," he quipped.
Hitting him on the shoulder playfully, she agreed. "It's already better, William. This time we're sharing a cabin," she noted with a raised eyebrow.
Julia made herself comfortable with the most recent edition of The Ladies Home Journal, enjoying the banality of perusing the upcoming fashions for Spring/Summer 1906. Looking at the frothy designs in light fabrics, Julia couldn't help shiver as she was still cold from earlier despite sitting near the fire. Catching the footman's attention, she ordered two hot chocolates before mindlessly flipping through the magazine again.
However, it wasn't long before she noticed that William wasn't reading, but absently playing with a pair of metal rectangles on the side table next to him, his gaze fixed on the newest passengers who entered the Library: a young girl in pinafore and braids, accompanied by her parents.
She winced in sadness. This was one of the reasons she had been avoiding mixing with other passengers, and the main reason she'd been pleased to book last minute passage in a luxury suite, since there were likely to be fewer children in first class.
Julia regarded her husband studiously. So lost in thought was he, William failed to notice that she was now studying his actions intently, suspecting she knew what he was thinking. Leaning in, she put her hand on his, her words gentle. "You think that could have been us, don't you?"
William heard her as if from a long distance before coming to himself and finding her eyes. "I'm sorry, Julia." He flushed and nodded. "I suppose I will have those thoughts, occasionally, for a while...I...I don't mean to…"
"Myself as well, William...it is perfectly natural," she nodded back, reassuring him. Julia held his gaze, worried over her husband's sad expression; they had been over this already, nevertheless she knew this was still going to be hard. She certainly felt it herself.
William nodded again, still pushing what Julia now recognized as magnets around on the table's gleaming surface. She saw when the magnetic poles were identical, they pushed away from one another, yet when one was flipped, the two magnets were now powerfully attracted, closing the distance between them as if by their own volition. William finally noticed her interest, so he picked up the magnets to pocket them, allowing them to lock together.
Julia stopped him, staring at the metal pieces in his hand. She took his palm in hers, opening it flat, pointing to the joined magnets. "Those represent us, don't they William?" she asked. "We're opposites, yet we can't help being attracted to one another," she found herself blurting without thinking...so sudden was her understanding.
William hesitated, feeling uncomfortably exposed. How did she know that? The attraction, certainly on his part, was undeniable, yet it was the inherent opposing forces which encompassed the unspoken problems in their relationship; problems he was loathe to open up especially now when things were so tender between them.
He tried a disarming smile. "Julia, your insights are always remarkable." He motioned gratefully to the server, clearing a spot on the table for two elegant china mugs. "Our chocolate is here." The cocoa was hot and sweet, giving him an excuse not to talk.
Julia took her cup, trying to decide if William was being obtuse, clever or cowardly. She shook her head. Perhaps he is trying to be sensitive, but it is time...
"William...we need to talk about us. The future of our marriage. Because we have a future, do we not? One to protect?"
William heard the plea in her voice and it hit him deeply. A future with her was all he ever hoped for. Keeping his voice steady, he answered slowly: "I am here, am I not? With you."
"Yes. But we cannot continue having our differences fester. We mustn't continue keeping secrets anymore, none that can harm us. We have to face this together, and we cannot do that unless we know exactly what we are facing," she implored, as she saw him squirm.
She wasn't sure how to interpret that exactly; she knew he was nervous because he fumbled the magnets, dropping them to the floor. He quickly bent down to retrieve them, and Julia wondered if the action wasn't deliberate.
William knew he had to handle this conversation better than the last time Julia wanted to 'talk'; his memory of that terrible argument and its precipitants remained gut-churning. For a brief moment he wondered if talking in public would put some necessary restraint on their emotions, then dismissed that as unwieldy and unwise. Besides, he knew, there was not much which ever restrained Julia. This time he felt he was in better control of himself….And she is acknowledging there were problematic secrets. If she is strong enough for this, he reasoned, then he'd have to be.
"Very well, however is this the place you wish to have a discussion? I would suggest returning to our stateroom first," William replied, looking at her squarely in the eyes.
Julia met his eyes in return, taken a little aback with his challenge. "Agreed, but I would like for some wine to be sent to our suite." Even though I would prefer a whiskey...
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
The stateroom's heavy oak door closed behind William with a solid, yet quiet thud. He surveyed the polished mahogany wood panelled walls, thick draperies and carpets, as grand as any premiere hotel anywhere in the world. He was counting on a combination of the sound dampening properties of the furnishings and discretion from the well-bred to give some semblance of privacy to himself and Julia, for completely different reasons than usual...
God knows we'll need it.
He pushed the beverage cart closer to where she sat, then took a chair next to her to pour a water for himself. One benefit of a first class steamship was that in the middle of the ocean the "blue laws" prohibiting alcohol on Sundays did not apply (if the gratuity was generous enough.) No doubt his wife was accustomed to tipping well.
Julia decanted her own wine and sipped appreciatively, nibbling on the accompaniment of miniature croissants and a jam which she declared paired perfectly with her claret.
Now that they were alone, William observed Julia was less eager to talk about anything of substance. To him, she looked so tired and fragile, unlike her typical self, therefore if she thought the better of embarking on such a difficult discussion, he was just as happy to go along with it. "Julia, we can put this off. We are together; perhaps that is enough for now." He pulled up one corner of his mouth in a half smile and reached for her hand.
Julia felt his warm touch. "No, William. Being together is the only place from which we can approach this crisis in our marriage. I do believe crisis brings clarity, and I know that we can only truly stay together if we clear the air."
"Julia, I told you we do not have to be the same, to think the same way…" William made sure he caught her eyes as a way to convey his sincerity.
"You say that now, however your actions betrayed you. You rejected me William! You walked out on me, and disappeared for two days. As far as I knew you'd left the city just so you would not have to be anywhere near me..." The suddenness of her comment shocked both of them.
William's eyebrows shot up and he felt bewildered. "Walked out? You threw me out!"
"I said if that was how you really felt, then you should leave…."
"You cut off all discussion…"
"I cut off all discussion? You left, meaning you agreed! Where were you?"
"I left because you told me to get out!" He was trying to be reasonable, at the same time he was appalled at how differently they each interpreted their interaction, as apparently as difficult to reconcile as two incompatible witnesses statement about the same crime. "When I tried to see you again you seemed quite ready to disappear across the ocean to be rid of me..."
"Because I thought my husband had abandoned me! You were gone for days, William. Days, not hours! Without a trace! Not even the Inspector nor George knew where you were. What was I supposed to do? For all I knew you were never coming back, and you'd run off to the Yukon again. I couldn't bear to wait around for a man who might never have returned, being subject to Tom's pity as the scorned wife. Where were you, William?" she shot back.
He was disconcerted by her statement. First of all: the Inspector had been involved? Just how much did he know? His cheeks burned in shame at the thought of his superior being privy to the horrible things he'd said to his wife. Secondly: I abandoned her? Nodding, he accepted her argument and absorbed her question, debating how much was relevant at the moment.
"Fair enough. My words warranted you asking me to leave, I'll grant you that. I wasn't on the run from you the entire time….believe it or not, I went to drown my sorrows in a bar and I met a man who was searching for his lost wife," he began before Julia interrupted.
"William, you're prevaricating," Julia snapped.
Sitting up taller, he continued, intent on finishing. "Julia, I...I hated myself and was at a such a loss... I needed something to do, something to occupy my mind, so I assisted him and our search took us out of town. Let's just say that like you, his wife had valid reason for not wanting him around and I should have been more aware of certain aspects of his behavior. But, that is a story for another time," he replied, holding up his hand hoping Julia would not snap at him again.
"That was your best idea at the moment? You thought to help someone else, but not your wife?" Her outrage was unmistakable.
William flinched, rubbing his forehead. "I was fairly certain you would not have me back, did not want me back, no matter how much I might have wished it." He exhaled, dropping his shoulders and holding his hands out. "I did however, use that time to reflect upon the impasse and what had happened between us," he stated calmly, doing his best to not let his temper get the best of him again.
Setting her drink down, she nodded, somewhat placated. "All right, I suppose it was necessary for you to mull things over. Neither one of us were in control of our emotions at the time."
Julia paused. Dare we go further? She traced a circle in a spilled drop of wine on the cart.
She decided to risk it, to expose her central fear. "After you learned the truth about Rebecca and Nate, you were so angry with me even before we got home. Why? You had been so silent all the way back to our rooms so I knew you were already upset." Julia almost balked, before pushing on. "Was it because I miscarried?" she whispered.
William responded instantly. "No! God, no; most assuredly not. That was not what I was so disturbed about." Doesn't she recall how I tried to console her?
She wanted to believe him, but taking into account what had transpired that awful day it was difficult. "Then why?"
"I believed..." he said this carefully so as not to make an accusation. "At the time I believed you interfered with my case, deliberately kept the truth from me. I interpreted your behaviour as evidence of a guilty conscience…." He held his breath, then exhaled. "I came to believe you lied to me, were deliberately obstructing justice with a cover-up and sending me blindly scrambling ..." The lies and the breach of trust still pained him. "I was doing my best to help the Desmonds, yet none of you was willing to trust me…"
Julia shook her head. "It's not as you think, William. Rebecca called me to speak about the situation of a patient of hers. She asked what she should do, and it's as I said: I told her to follow her conscience and directed her to appropriate medical resources when she asked about them. I did not know who the patient was, did not know Nate's involvement, nor did I even know of her final decision. I only put it together moments before you did. In fact, I had just arrived in the cells to talk with Rebecca and confirm my suspicions when you showed up."
"You knew I could not condone your actions, Julia. You knew that…" William tried to say this matter-of-factly, unable to keep the strain out of his voice.
"Yes...I knew how you would feel, so I had very little direct involvement in the matter. William, I didn't want any secrets between us."
William's composure broke. Did she truly not understand the implications of what she had done? "You decided to keep a secret nevertheless, and despite knowing my reaction, you did it anyway."
"I am sorry if I hurt your feelings."
He took another breath to steady himself. If she hurt my feelings?
William reviewed the pieces of the puzzle as he had fitted them together: Julia getting out of her sick bed against his better judgement, as if the miscarriage was unimportant. Julia's silence when he tried to comfort her, reach out to her. Julia not trusting him enough to confide in him.
Julia assuming he'd arrest Rebecca Desmond. Julia's own angry defensiveness...
"This issue is a great deal more than how I would feel about it. Julia, you asked me why I was angry. Can you appreciate at all what I believed to be true? Why I was so upset about the events as I understood them?"
He looked at her, then shook his head. She wanted the truth..."At the time I believed you put me in a position of being deceived and blindsided by the person I trusted more than anyone, and at odds with both the Constabulary and the Church."
Julia stood abruptly. "Your job! Your faith! I did not intentionally withhold information William, I did not know what I knew. I didn't know the relevance until it was too late… I've already told you this!" She felt her blood pound. This conversation was not going the way she supposed it would. She strode purposefully to the door.
"I know that now," William called behind her, hoping to stop her. "Don't do this, not again."
"I need some air, the judgement in here is really quite oppressive."
"Julia..!"
William closed his eyes as Julia slammed the door. You utter fool! he railed at himself. What made you think the truth alone was going to suffice? The closeness of the last three days, the fondness and warmth between them was broken again, and he groaned loudly in frustration. He had been trying to only answer the question she asked, not drift into the even more thorny issue of her statements about abortion and his visceral reactions to them. He had not yet been able to apologize for that and here he was causing her additional pain.
Dear Lord, how did I get here again?