Readying for dinner that night helped calm my mind. The repetitive task of brushing my hair let my thoughts wander. I had kissed him! Or had he kissed me? We had both travelled equal distances for the kiss, so perhaps the blame didn't fall to either of us. My mind was pulled back to the task at hand as I pricked my finger on my new hair comb, shaped like a horse galloping, that was to hold back my hair. I pinned the bronze object so that it would hold back most of my hair but leave one curled ringlet coming down my left ear. I put Mr. Murdoch's handkercheif down my corset so that it was nestled snug against my body.
"Annastasia dear, can you ring for Judy to come up?" Father called, opening the door. Judy, Judy was our maid back home. I turned to the mirror, biting my bottom lip.
"Father, Judy isn't here. We're on the Titanic, headed for home. Remember?" I asked, talking through my clenched teeth. Father's eyes were cloudy, confused. He had been like this for several weeks, forgetting where we were, who I was and many small facts. One of the reasons we were returning home was to get him to a doctor that might be able to help him.
"Titanic, oh right you are my dear." He snorted after a moment, shaking his head like a bull. I rose from my chair and followed him out. I had changed into a scarlet dress, beaded on the hem so that when I walked the train made a tinkling sound. mother had somehow arranged it with Mrs. DeWitt Bukater so that we would dine with them tonight. Father led the way down the Grand Staircase with Mother on his arm and me trailing behind people were standing around and talking to one another.
The first class dining saloon had not been set up for dinner yet and most people were standing around and talking to one another. I saw young Mr. Dawson, looking slicked back in a tuxedo, talking to Astors. Mr. Astor was nodding, seemingly won over by the young Mr. Dawson's charisma. Rose, the harpy, stood by his side and guided him through the sea of jewels and silk dresses with ease.
I looked around for Mr. Murdoch but none of the Officers were present. Why wasn't he here? Was it Mother? Had she scared him off? Or, or did he not like me? I pouted slightly, only lightened by the sound of the Titanic's orchestra tuning. The tuning could only mean that dinner would soon follow. The Astors, DeWitt Bukaters, Mrs. Brown, Mr. Ismay - a rakish rapscallion with a massive pair of mustachios -, Mrs. Brown and several other that I had yet to meet sat down at a massive table. My family joined them, adding to the opulence of our table.
"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson. I hear they're quite good on this ship." Mrs. DeWitt Bukater asked as several waiters shuffled around, pouring champagne. Jack panicked, turning down to look at me. I placed two fingers aside my head, trying to tell him to remember what I had said.
"The best I've seen, m'am. Hardly any rats." He responded tactfully, accepting a glass of champagne. He gave me a very large wink and raised his glass to me as Caldon Hockley spoke up.
"Mr. Dawson is joining us from third class. He was of some assistance to my fiancee last night." He drawled, glancing at a waiter as he bent to serve Mr. Dawson. "This is foie gras. It's goose liver." Several diners leaned over and began to whisper to each other.
"A little rough but he's gem ain't he?" Mrs. Brown hissed, causing me to bring my nampkin up to my lips to hide my laugh. I was glad that she had sat next to me, if only to provide an amusing commentary.
"How do you take your caviar, sir?" A waiter asked, a bowl of roe held firmly in his hand.
"Just a soupcon of lemon, it improves the flavor with champagne." Cal said, answering for him. Mr. Dawson turned and gave him a glare that sent Mrs. Brown into peals of laughter that she disguised as a coughing spell before turning back to the waiter.
"No caviar for me, thanks. Never did like it much." He responded to dismiss the waiter, turning back to Mr. Hockley with a fool's grin on his face.
"And where exactly do you live, Mr. Dawson?" Mrs. DeWitt Bukater pressed. I turned to a waiter as he spooned a small amount of caviar on my plate. Using a small spoon I picked up a few of the little fish eggs and crunched them in my mouth. They had a delightful salty taste but after a few more bites I set it aside. No need to spoil the rest of the dinner.
"Well, right now my address is the R.M.S Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humor." He replied humerously, getting a laugh out of the table. Salads were placed in front of everyone and I had to marvel at the presentation of the dish. A bed of leafy green lettuce sat on the plate, small tomatoes hidden in them.
"You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" Mrs. DeWitt Bukater was not done yet, it appeared, as she prodded yet again at Mr. Dawson.
"Well... it's a big world, and I want to see it all before I go. My father was always talkin' about goin' to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in, and never did see it. You can't wait around, because you never know what hand you're going to get dealt next. See, my folks died in a fire when I was fifteen, and I've been on the road since. Somethin' like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count." He replied with all seriousness, my lessons more than likely ringing in his head.
"Well said Jack." Mrs. Brown said, raising her glass. I brought my own champagne flute up and clinked it with hers. I giggled as I felt the bubbles go down my throat. Conversation began to flow after that, and the evening passed pleasently but something still ached in my heart.
"I say, have you seen Mr. Reichster's son? He was at a ball we hosted last year, quite the fine young man." Colonel Gracie remarked, causing anyone with the last name Dalian to sour. The Reichsters were the largest competitors for Dalian Trading & Shipping. The youngest Reichster, Zachary, was due to inherit the company on his father's death. He and I had made the papers once when I had thrown a bottle of wine at him when he made a paticuraly crude remark at me.
"The man is a bounder and a cad and I would prefer that he not be discussed at this pleasent meal." I requested, screwing my face into a tight line. My mother inclined her head slightly, a nod that I had done the right thing.
"Why, I had read last year the he proposed to you!" Mrs. DeWitt Bukater gasped, shocked that I did not like Zachary.
"He did nothing of the sort, the actual story of quite crude and low if you would believe it."
"Come now my dear, tell us! We have nothing but time." Mr. Hockley said, leaning back as the main course was set before us. A delightful array of meats arranged aroung a pile of potatoes.
"It is rather vulgar."
"I am sure that we have heard worse, or in Mr. Dawson's case, seen worse." His veiled threat did not go unnoticed as Jack began to puff up like a pigeon.
"Very well, the Reichsters were hosting a party. Most of the people in our buisness, the shipping buisness, were present. The younger Mr. Reichster cornered me as I was getting a drink and pressed his intentions in a most unwelcome fashion." I hissed, remembering the groping hands and thin lips in mine.
"Unwelcome?" Jack asked, listening completely. All the conversation had stopped.
"He kissed me roughly and attempted to drag me into a spare bedroom." I explained, stabbing a potatoe and chomping it. "Luckily, Mr. Vanderbilt, a close personal friend of our family,was nearby and managed to free me." I looked over at Mother, her mouth was drawn into a thin line as she remembered the evnts of that night. "The proposal story was put out by the Reichsters so that if any news came out it would only be considered two young lovers trying to get a moment of privacy." The table sat in stunned silence for several minutes, but eventually conversation resumed. After desert, a lovely cake, had been served the men stood up and moved off to the Smoking Lounge. Once they had left I excused myself to the Powder Room.
"So, Wilde. Have you managed to find a girl on here yet? You've got have several admirers beign Cheif Officer and all." I heard Hockley ask, his voice was faint through the thick door. I pressed my ear to crack and listened closely as a grumbling voice that I assumed was Wilde spoke.
"No, shipboard dailliances are merely entertaing but they never last. The girls you can meet are too proud to give us what we really want." He grunted, "Besides, why would we want to settle down when can get all we need from those special New York girls." I clutched my chest, only now aware of how tight my corset was. Air. I needed air. I sprinted up on deck, the cold Atlantic air hitting me like a fist. Is that what I am? A shipboard dalliance? Something to seduce and leave behind?
I swung my head around, looking for someone that I knew. Unfamiliar faces paraded by, each of them staring at me, silently laughing. I turned back to the rail and clutched it tighter, feeling tears begin to flow. He should be here now. He usually shows up when this happens. Where is he? I felt utterly alone, admist a sea of people. Nobody, nobody that I knew.
"Oi, miss. You alright?" A voice asked, I turned hoping to see Murdoch but instead there were two Officers. One of them was younger than the other and furrowed his brow.
"Oh-oh yes. Ha-have you seen Mr. Murdoch?" I stuttered, grabbing the handkercheif and wiping my face.
"Dear Lord, you must be Ms. Dalian." The older one said. I nodded, sniffing.
"What are ya cryin' for then?" The younger asked and was promptly cuffed by the older.
"Forgive Mr. Moody, I'm Fifth Officer Harold Lowe. It's nice to meet you." He responded.
"Pl-pleasure to meet you Mr. Moody, Mr. Lowe." I nodded my head gratefully as another round of sobs racked my body. "Is Murdoch around here?"
"Ach, no missy. Smith's put him on watch. My guess is to keep him away from you, you're all he can talk about ya know. What upset you?" Mr. Moody told me, taking off his cap and bowing.
"I ju-just heard another Officer saying that most girl that the Officers take up with are merely 'shipboard dalliances' and that they're only good for seducing." I sobbed, dabbing my eyes again.
"Did you get his name?" Lowe asked, his face looking at me in a concerned way.
"Wilde."
"That bastard! Don't you listen to him, missy. Murdoch loves you, he's made it clear to all of us." Moody burst out, silenced as Lowe smacked him.
"Trust me, Ms. Dalian. Murdoch wouldn't do anything like that, he's already fallen for you." Lowe calmly said, chuckling slightly. "I'll see if I can't get him alone for you tomorrow. But for now, get back downstairs and clean yourself up."
"You really mean it? He loves me?" I asked in shock, holding the small square of cloth even tighter. Was I wrong? Did what Wilde said not apply to him?
"More than likely, bloody loon doesn't shut up about you." Moody grumbled. Lowe gave him a withering glance, then turned back to me. I flung my arms around both him and Moody, embracing them.
"Thank you. Thank you both so much." I said, letting them go and stumbling down the stairs. He loves me! But Mother . . . Forget her for right now! He loves you!
"Well, at least one of our daughters showed up." Mother said as I approached bother her and Mrs. DeWitt Bukater. Rose was nowhere to be seen, more than likely she had run off with the Dawson boy. She had been looking at him throughout the whole meal. We sat in the First Class Lounge and spoke of frivilous matters until the clcok rang ten at night. Mother and I excused ourselves for bed.
"Promise me one thing, Annastasia dear." My father asked as he emerged from the Smoking Lounge.
"What Father?"
"When I am gone, don't let our buisness fall into the Reichsters hands. Make sure that Dalian Shipping & Trading stays around for a long, long time." He begged, looking over at me. His eyes were more lucid than they had been for the past month.
"I promise, I won't let the Reichsters get our buisness."
