As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing - I'm in the midst of Finals Week and I have two papers to finish up in winding down my MTS degree - in an example of procrastination par excellence, I wrote this chapter on the eve of the due date of the first paper. Alright; here I go!
* Regarding the timeline of Titanic events - 10 April, the ship leaves Southampton, 11 April we leave Ireland, 14 April we run into an iceberg, 15 April Titanic is on the bottom of the Atlantic. So, we are looking at, literally, a few days - that being said, THANK YOU for reading and reviewing! *
The rest of Scarlett's evening spun by in a kaleidoscope of music, food, and drink, without incident until almost midnight when the call from Mrs. Brown stirred her from her musings.
"Baroness?" Mrs. Brown asked loudly enough for the entire table to hear her, "Say, somebody told me that you were married to our dear Captain Butler before the Baron. Would you put that rumor to rest for us?"
A flurried murmur arose, and Scarlett could feel her cheeks flush.
Fortunately, Eva was able to put and end to the matter, snapping her fingers for the waiter to bring more champagne for the table and then informing Mrs. Brown and the rest that she and her mother should like to retire.
"Never, in almost forty years," Scarlett said as she and her daughter departed, "has the subject been broached. Oh, I wish that I hadn't agreed to speak with him…"
The next day dawned with dark clouds lurking in the horizon, and Eva Chapman awoke with a sense of heavy foreboding, of something amiss in the very air about her. It made little sense to her, since her evening had concluded very pleasantly indeed. She and her mother had donned their furs taken a final stroll about the Promenade Deck. Hands tapping restlessly on the railing, her mother began to talk about Rhett in earnest, a topic which she had only skirted around in the past.
"And then he went off to Charleston and abandoned me," she said, making a moue with her chattering lips.
"But he came back, didn't he?"
"In a manner of speaking. When he returned, he brought with him a rather famous actress, a Miss Nellie Van Dyke from Philadelphia." Scarlett spat out the name with fresh intensity, as if she were reliving the offense in the present day. "Well, he put her up at the National and spent the nights there. Although, he showed up at my home in a deplorable state of intoxication that last night, completely out of his head. His brother and sole surviving nephew had been involved in some sort of tragic sailing accident. The boy was gone, of course, but his brother Ross was lingering in and out of consciousness. Still, Rhett had assumed that he would recover. Well, he did not. And I found out later that Rhett had only just returned from Ross's funeral. The very last of the Butler blood was gone with him."
"Well what about this Vansittart fellow?"
"I had never heard Rhett acknowledge him before this voyage. Well, that's not quite accurate - he did mention a boy in New Orleans - well, I suppose I paid him no heed at the time. Ella had just been born and I…well…I…"
"Mama, please. Don't make yourself sad, I beg you. And if your meeting with him tomorrow will cause you more pain than pleasure, then I would gladly send Mr. Butler a note of excuse for you."
"If I don't see him tomorrow, I'll see him elsewhere, no doubt. After all, we're aboard a ship. There are only so many places…and I will not sit in my cabin like a coward simply because Rhett is here as well."
"But you do not have to converse privately with him."
"I realize that, but I think it better to get it over and done with early. When do we arrive in New York, Wednesday morning?"
Eva nodded. "Yes. Although, I heard one of the gentlemen sitting next to Mr. Noyles say that we were making such good headway, we could very well arrive by Tuesday night."
"I certainly hope not. Our train doesn't leave until Thursday and the last thing I'd want is to stay at the Dragon's Keep until then."
Eva laughed, "Do you think Alicia would consent to hosting all of us?"
"I rather doubt it. Although, I noticed that she had nothing to say about me fronting the cost of this little voyage. Not that I'm not happy to do it, of course. I would simply think that she would like to exhibit some gratitude once in awhile."
"Alicia? Never."
"At least I wasn't expected to purchase Scarlett Anne's new gowns. Have you seen them yet? I saw an invoice from Lucille for two thousand pounds. A further five thousand for shoes, jewelry, accessories for both older girls and for the Dragon herself. I don't know how Wade is able to put by a penny at all the way Alicia squanders it…"
They heard the band start the last waltz of the evening, signaling the closure of the Dining Saloon, and Eva and Scarlett had returned to their cabin, the discomfiting subject of Rhett Butler forgotten.
Yes, it had been a very nice evening indeed, and it would be a nice morning if the dark clouds were not hovering over the sun like a hangover after a previous evening.
"Oh well," Eva muttered to herself as she stepped out of bed and rang for Fredericka, her German maid, to attend her. "I will just have to shake it off."
Entering her private promenade deck, Eva crossed over to the window and after several attempts, called the steward to open it, allowing the salty morning breeze to enter.
"Much nicer," Eva declared, then called for Fredericka to bring her warmer dressing gown. "And a mirror," she continued. "I would like you to brush my hair in here, please."
As she did so, her mother walked in and dropped down into the rattan chair facing her. She was already dressed in a grey-blue silk, the color of waves, although her hair was still in the side braid she wore to bed.
"I had the same idea," her mother spoke, slowly shaking her head. "I could barely sleep last night."
"Mama-"
"No, no. I want to get it over and done with. If I speak with him now, I shan't have to speak to him for the remainder of the voyage…Wade has probably asked him to dinner, which is certainly fine, so long as they dine in the Parisian café rather than the Dining Saloon. Alicia can be counted upon, for that at the least…"
The weather was beginning to warm up a bit due to the southeasterly breeze, and the two ladies, dressed for the day, made the small sojourn to the Dining Saloon and the breakfast the delicious aromas had heralded as far back as their stateroom. As they entered through the swinging glass doors, it took only seconds for their eyes to adjust to the dim interior, the clouds having blocked the sun and consequently, the natural light which would be expected to filter through the great glass windows. The band was playing, as usual. The crowd was also the normal mix of First Class patrons lingering on for a leisurely meal before their next shipboard destination. A showdown between Mrs. Molly Brown and the Countess of Rothes was going on at one of the tables in the back corner and neither the Countess nor Mrs. Madeline Astor looked particularly happy. Trouble could be forthcoming, Eva whispered to her mother discreetly.
"No," Scarlett replied softly, eyes peeled. "No, see how Mr. Astor has an eye on the situation? He'll ask Mrs. Astor to stroll and the Countess will follow and then…"
Eva knew what she meant; Mrs. Brown would inevitably find her way over to their table and her mother was not about to have that.
Threading their way through the crowd, they reached a table on the opposite side of the room, in a front corner where they could talk privately and watch the action, one of their favorite pastimes of past evenings and breakfasts alike.
"Champagne, please," Scarlett hailed a waiter and ordered, to which Eva responded, "Mama, really?"
"I certainly must."
"Mother!"
"Don't mother me, Eva Cecile."
Dispensing of the hastily ordered first glass in an unusually quick manner, she called for another to sip more slowly as she sat, nervously drumming her fingers against the table and fiddling with a stray thread in the sash of her dress.
"I should have worn the green, perhaps."
"You look lovely, Mama, truly."
"You're a very good liar, my love. Now, I want you to find Alicia and see where we are dining tonight and what colors she and the girls will be in so that we may dress accordingly…and for Heaven's sake, tell her to arrive early so that we may avoid that vulgar Brown woman!"
After enjoying a repast of palate-pleasing fare, and excited by the prospect of the evening's dinner, Eva bid her mother good morning and headed toward Wade's family's stateroom for some much needed discussion of the night's attire.
Sitting alone at last, Scarlett observed the retreating back of her youngest with an unusual mixture of emotions. This would be the last voyage before her wedding; the next one, she would be Mrs. Henry de Rothschild, not Eva Chapman. Moreover, this would be only the second time she would actually return to Georgia on a trip, other than to Will's funeral, since she had moved to Ireland after the divorce.
She had set sail then under a cloud of sadness - and now, although she grieved for the loss of her youth and beauty, she could rejoice in her children and grandchildren. That was something to be grateful for, at the least.
"Baroness Chapman, I presume?"
Her musing came to a halt as she very quickly turned her head in the direction of the slightly hoarse voice.
He was outfitted in a grey suit and a stiffly starched white shirt and a thin tie.
"Please, stay seated," he said, taking the chair Eva had abandoned. "Well, Scarlett, I'm happy to see that your eyes haven't changed."
"Do one's eyes normally change?" she responded, slightly put off by his observation and irritated that it was the first thing out of his mouth. Would it have killed him to say how fine she looked, how pleased he was to see her?
"You miss my point, my dear. What I meant was that although you've made a change of costume since I saw you last and seem demure, you still have that look of defiance in those eyes of yours that I know so well, and they fairly twinkle as you see me coming."
"I'm not your dear," she reminded him. "And you haven't changed much either. Still insulting as ever."
"I didn't mean to insult your sensibilities, Baroness," he said with exaggerated politeness.
"Do not mock me, either. I do not appreciate your humor and - oh phooey! You didn't mean a bit of that, did you? Oh I could just leave -"
"Well, leave then."
"I want to -"
"What's stopping you?"
"Nothing, I -"
Shaking his head, he couldn't help but laugh at her words and actions.
"Stop laughing at me - you could never understand."
"Well then help me to do so," he rose slowly, then offered his hand. "Would you escort a very old gentleman about the boat deck, Baroness?"
She took the offered hand and took a good look at him, finally raising an eyebrow. "I would consent to walk with a gentleman, but sir you are not one nor have you ever been."
A smile split his face and he ran a hand through his iron grey hair, still thick and only slightly thinning at the top. "Well, I would generally reply that you are no lady. But that appears to be an inaccurate observation, Baroness. Shall we?"
…
The aromas of smoked mutton and kidney as well as grilled bacon and ham met Ella at the head of the Grand Staircase as she made her way down to brunch. She was late; her mother and sister had not been in their stateroom when she had knocked and the maid, Fredericka, had referred her to her sister-in-law. Not inclined to spend the morning taking the air and gossip with Alicia, Ella decided to walk down to the Dining Saloon unaccompanied. She spied Wade from the corner of her eye, already halfway through his meal and in deep conversation with a gentleman she recognized as Mr. Guggenheim. As the conversation was undoubtedly one of business, Ella decided that it was not for her ears, nor was it her place to interrupt her brother and an associate. Instead, she headed to the sideboard and asked the waiter to seat her at a table for one.
"Certainly. A beverage, Madam?"
"Coffee, please," Ella responded.
As she drew nearer the table he had picked out, she espied Mr. Vansittart and unconsciously walked a little faster, hoping to make it past him unnoticed.
"Mrs. Connell?" he motioned her to come toward him, then, realizing his faux pas, stood up from his own seat and pulled out the chair opposite him. "Would you mind..?"
She was startled, both by his forward manner and by the uncomfortable position in which he had placed her. It would be rude not to take the chair that was offered; however, it would be even more socially graceless for a married woman to sit alone with a gentleman not her husband.
The simple matter of the steward's presence forced her to nod politely and move towards the offered seat. She accepted his hand as she took her seat and settled down to the table.
"Thank you for joining me," he said as the steward departed. "I had hoped to speak to one of you alone and I'm very glad that it was you who first crossed my path."
"One of us? Well, if it is a member of my family you seek, sir, perhaps you would have been better served by seeking out my brother. As you can see, he is sitting just there, at the other table."
"Forgive me," he smiled down at her. "I must confess a certain ulterior motive for seeking you out…"
"Well I'm a married woman, sir-"
"No, no, you misunderstand me - I certainly mean you no offense. I merely meant…that you might be more inclined toward understanding."
Her vanity slightly wounded that he was not propositioning her when she thought that he had been, she slumped in her chair in the most unladylike fashion, elbows on the table.
"Well, perhaps you'd better tell me what you wished to say."
"Ah yes…I'm getting there. Very inarticulately, clearly. How long have you been acquainted with Rhett?"
"How long? Well, I would hardly say that we are acquainted to this day, aside from last night-"
"Well how long have you known him, then?"
"Since I was a baby, I suppose. He was my stepfather for a time - but surely you know that."
He shrugged. "I know very little of his life past and present, by both of our choices."
"Well how did you come to travel together if that is the case?"
"I knew that he was at a particular institution in Paris…the Grand Logis…you've heard of it? No? Well, it costs approximately twenty thousand dollars American per annum and frankly, they were doing little more for him than enabling him to drink himself into a stupor and abuse opium in suicidal proportions."
"Good gracious!"
"I do not exaggerate, that is what I walked into - well, they are of the opinion in France that family members need to take care of their own and as he had no relations to speak of…at least not on paper, you understand…they were content with allowing him to die with dignity, they called it."
"But he's so very strong, so cognizant for his age -"
"Indeed he is, and I was not of the mind to allow him such an ignominious end. But that is why I sought your help, Mrs. Connell. I have pressing business matters in Europe which I have neglected and cannot care for him full time. And that, I'm afraid, is what is required at his age. He is in excellent health, but one incident - a fall in the bathtub even…"
"I certainly can empathize, sir, but you must have missed the fact that Mother and he are divorced. Why, it's been a good thirty years since they've laid eyes on one another, if not more."
"I take it that their parting was less than amicable on her part?"
"On both of their parts, I should say. Why, their marriage was always - oh heavens - I should not be telling you this, nor should you be asking. It is not my place, Mr. Vansittart."
"Loyalty to your mother is a noble thing, Mrs. Connell. But I need to know if there is a way I might prevail upon your family to welcome the Prodigal back into the fold."
"The Prodigal…well that's fitting. I declare, I would have given all I owned for him to respond to my wedding invitation. But I never heard a word -"
"I would imagine that he was suffering a worse ruin in Paris. I saw him once, and he was in horrid shape."
"Well, he always was fond of the drink."
Louis laughed a deep bear of a laugh at her comment. "You wouldn't want to continue this conversation out on deck, would you? The clouds have given way to a sunny sky and it really is quite pleasant."
Looking into his dark, familiar eyes and appraising his handsome face, Ella faced the decision of dismissing him and eating breakfast alone or accepting the invitation along with the whispers from the other ladies which would echo behind him.
"They've stopped serving breakfast," he pulled out his watch, "…and it will be a good half hour before lunch is readied."
So she decided to go on with him.
He was a good conversationalist, interested first and foremost in her charitable works and the rumors of her patronage of Monsieur Monet.
"The landscape artist?" Ella giggled. "No, certainly not. I find his work delightful for its color but he does not surpass Monsieur Gleyre in skill."
"What are they calling his work now, plain something?"
"En plein air. And it is not a new technique; in fact, Monsieur Boudin, who was one of Monsieur Monet's mentors, was perfecting it in the late eighteen fifties."
"And have you always been interested in fine art?"
"Fascinated, certainly. But no, I was not so involved in the artists' cause until my younger sister went to study at Le Havre."
"Le Havre? So, she is an artist, herself?"
"Yes, and she's quite good. Her charcoal caricatures are simply exquisite. For my last birthday she did one of my father using only a miniature that Mother had saved for me…it was so very lifelike, I was moved to tears…"
He then asked her to tell him of her father, Mr. Kennedy, which caused her face to light up and her eyes to sparkle like a young girl's.
"I wish I could have known him," she replied softly. "Perhaps you know the story of how he was promised to my Aunt Suellen?"
Louis shook his head. "Rhett and I conversed only infrequently over the years, so I am completely new to your family's history, even as it concerns him. He did, however, tell me that he met you as a small infant."
"That is true, I think. Mother never speaks of my childhood, much. To tell you the truth, I recall very little of life before our arrival in Ireland and I am thankful for that."
"I imagine the strain between Rhett and your mother was difficult for you and your brother to bear?"
"Well, naturally. That and our little sister, Bonnie's, loss. We felt the sting very keenly, although our feelings on the matter were not particularly solicited."
"I'm very sorry."
"Thank you, Mr. Vansittart."
"I do know how deeply Rhett mourned for Bonnie. That I heard for myself and witnessed firsthand. He was in a very dark place for a good deal of time…inconsolable to the point that I become extremely concerned about his decline and grief."
"That does not surprise me. After all, he was so very devoted to her. It seems a wonder that he has survived for so long - dear me, that was crass. I apologize-"
"No, no, please. I too find his longevity a source of amusement. I think he does as well, if you want to know the truth. He is insufferable as far as company, but a wealth of knowledge insofar as his experiences."
"That, I'm sure, is true."
"Is your mother much the same?"
"No. After all, you recall, Mother is seventeen years Rhett's junior. She was just sixteen when the war started, for instance. It was not a good time for her, nor a good decade. She was happy in Ireland, happier than I've ever seen her. You would have enjoyed meeting my stepfather, the Baron, he was just delightful…"
"Auntie Ella! Auntie, come, come!"
Lost in her thought, Ella had not heard the approaching thump-thump sound of a child's boots upon the deck until she was startled in midst of her speech by the sudden sight of Wade's youngest, Louisa, a tenderhearted and loving child of seven years and his wife, Alicia.
"Oh no, Louisa, do not run so!" the child's mother shrilled as she hit Ella hard and fast enough to knock her over.
"I'm sorry, Auntie!" Louisa smiled up at her, her two front teeth missing.
Laughing at her niece's enthusiastic greeting and her sister-in-law's displeasure, Ella patted her mop of brown curls. She alone of the sisters had inherited Wade's curly chestnut hued locks, although all three of them had Hamilton features. Louisa could only be described as cold: her creamy pale skin and white-blonde hair were set off perfectly by her fashionable, ashes of roses gown, a confection of a dress, tight at the waist and adorned with Brussels lace at her throat and on the sleeves. Her broad-brimmed black velvet hat boasted a large rose on the right side, the same shade as the dress.
"Alicia, dear sister-in-law," Ella fought back the temptation to add dear Dragon to her introduction, "may I introduce my new acquaintance, Mr. Vansittart. Recently of London, but born and raised in New Orleans, so certainly a kindred spirit. Alicia is from Baton Rouge, isn't that right?"
Looking less put out than she had a few moments before, Alicia held out a hand for Louis to kiss, which he did gallantly.
She sniffed, "My husband Wade and I would enjoy the pleasure of your company for dinner this evening. We make our home in New York and consequently, rarely are among our own people."
Louis replied, "After a light repast, I should be delighted. I have already met your husband, last evening at Colonel Gracie's table."
"Ah," Alicia smiled her large faux-smile, and, turning to include Ella as well, said, "In that case, we shall see you in the Dining Saloon at seven this evening."
At that, he bowed to Ella, saying, "Thank you for the walk, Mrs. Connell. It was quite stimulating."
"And you, sir," Ella smiled genially. "It was a real pleasure."
Nodding her head as Louis Vansittart made his way across the deck and away from them, Alicia commented, "Good looking devil, isn't he? But completely out of his depth among decent people. You know who his father is, don't you?"
At Ella's affirmative nod, she continued. "Well, Wade has invited him to have dinner with us as well. It should make for an interesting evening. I merely hope that your mother is able to conduct a civil conversation with the man. Ha. Goodness, it's chilly. Come, Louisa, we'll be late for tea with the Allison's."
After polite pleasantries and small talk, Ella bade her niece and sister-in-law good afternoon, parting at the entrance to the First Class cabins. Alicia and Louisa, holding hands and the picture of idyllic mother and child, continued to promenade back toward the Dining Saloon and the Allison's, while Ella, frustrated and lonely, shuffled back toward the Boat Deck, thinking that perhaps she might run into Eva and their Mother…