A/N: Phew, long chapter! But lots of stuff happens, so hopefully it's still interesting. I'll introduce a few new characters, neither of them ever existed anywhere but in my own brain.
One more important note - I'm going away on vacation for the next month or so (I'll be leaving this Sunday) and I'll have limited time writing so it'll probably be a longer stretch of time before I can update again, but I will give my best. Of course, if you review I write faster, it's that simple.
And big thanks goes to Courtland for correcting my misspellings and helping me with some scenes. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
CHAPTER XI
Paradox
"You stood beside me strong and proud,
When we sailed away into the clouds,
The darkness fell and it roared like thunder,
Like the devils hand we were under."
13, April 1912;
Elsie's third night sleeping aboard the Titanic was an enormous success. She had fallen asleep almost instantly, lulled by the steady hum of the ship's engines. Some people might have complained about the constant noise from the machinery, but Elsie found the sounds immensely soothing, nothing but a pleasant reminder of where she was and where she was going. Her sleep was deep and her dreams untroubled. Waking the next morning, Elsie felt more rested than she could ever remember being in these last few months and longer.
Charles and Jack were already awake. Jack was still pulling his jacket on, looking a little bleary from sleep, but Charles was fully clothed - what a surprise - and appeared bright eyed and cheerful.
"Good morning, lovebird." Jack said when he realised that Elsie was awake as well, a little smirk appearing on his face.
"Morning to you too, Jack." She replied brightly, "Charles." He looked up from the buttons on his suit, smiling sheepishly at her while giving her a small wave.
Elsie climbed down from her bunk and rummaged in her suitcase for her clothes. She had many skirts and even more blouses - only one was really special to her and it was brand new. She got it from Anna: 'it's an early birthday present' she'd called it. Though, Elsie knew that it was really a farewell gift.
Elsie had adorned the middle-aged blouse and newer skirt yesterday, figuring that First-Class-Dinner-Day was worth looking one's best, but today she opted for the more worn-out outfit; even though the frayed cuffs on her sleeves made her wrists itch. Elsie planned to save Anna's present for the day she arrived in New York. New clothes for her new life and adventure.
Before getting dressed Elsie wrapped herself in a threadbare dressing gown and made a trip to the privy where she was able to wash her face and neck while staying out of her roommates' way. By the time she returned to the cabin, Jack and Charles were gone, presumably on their way to breakfast.
Elsie got dressed and brushed her hair - which was a veritable bird's nest that morning - then attempted to work it into some style that didn't make her look like just a common third class passenger.
Giving herself one last look over - checking to see that her blouse was tucked in and that her stockings were straight and not bagging around her ankles as the one stocking normally did; Elsie deemed her appearance presentable. She stepped out into the corridor at precisely the same moment as Anika.
Elsie met the young German girl a few days ago when she accidentally mistook their room for hers. She was a hopeful, lively girl, going to America in search for a better life. Anika was probably Jack's age, no older than thirty.
But Elsie was happy she met somebody new, somebody different. She had never been confronted with someone who didn't speak her language, she was only able to say 'hello' in French, other than that Elsie had no experience with foreign dialects. Of course, a lot of different people visited Lord and Lady Grantham's estate, but she never really got a chance to speak to them.
"Guten Morgen, Elsie." Anika said cheerfully when she spotted Elsie leaving her room. She was busy pinning up her long blond braids into a kind of cornet around her head. Anika too looked well-rested and chipper, as though she was as eager to start the day as Elsie was.
Yesterday Anika had taught Elsie a few common phrases in German and Elsie had returned the favour by teaching Anika the English translations. They had a great time.
"Good morning to you too, Anika." Elsie waved to the German girl, flashing her a grin, "slept well?" She continued.
"Ja, ja." She said, which was at least one word that needed no translation. Elsie grinned, she was already trying to figure out how much German a person could learn in the space of five days. It looked to be a promising challenge.
"Wunderschön." Elsie said, twisting the foreign word around her tongue and the girl next to her broke out in laughter.
"Nice, nice." Anika returned the favour and answered in English. She praised Elsie's German, giving her a pat on the back. "You have some potential." Anika stamped out in heavy accented English.
Anika looped arms with Elsie, in such a short time she had grown fond of the English woman, and they continued to walk towards the dining hall. They were much surer of the route already, though, at one point, they took a wrong turn and ended up in a hallway faced with a latrine instead of the dining hall. Retracing their steps they soon corrected this error and made the rest of the trip without any accidents.
The two women took seats in their designated area. Elsie sat across the table from Anika, and Genevieve who sat gracefully, both of her elbows on the table and her chin prompted up.
Genevieve was Anika's roommate who had boarded the Titanic in Cherbourg, France. Her brown, curly hair was braided to reveal a full, lively face. Her clear hazel eyes glittering, watching carefully over the crowded room.
Since Elsie had met her, she had always thought that there was something charming about the French girl; perhaps it was her sense of humour, or perhaps it was simply her good will. She, too, was going to America to live out the famous American Dream. For Genevieve, Europe didn't give her a lot of opportunities. She was a true dreamer among all others. She was one fearless French girl.
Despite French being her first language, Genevieve spoke English much more fluently than Anika. Since the two of them shared a room - and the both of them being lively and fiery girls, Elsie couldn't imagine how the two of them communicated, but it was probably funny nonetheless.
"You two are late." Genevieve pointed out.
Even though they were a little late arriving - thanks to their impromptu detour - the food had not yet been set out.
Elsie sat across from them both, which was how she preferred it; she liked being able to see both of her friends at once when they spoke. Not to mention, she had left a free seat on her right-hand side, just in case someone decided that he wanted to join them.
"We know," Elsie answered, straightening her skirt under the table, "we had a little mishap." Elsie focused her gaze on Anika, who smiled brightly.
"D'ye know," Genevieve was saying, "this isn't at all how I figured steerage would be. I thought it would be more like mess halls at the scullery, not near so clean and fancy-like," she held up her starched white napkin to illustrate, flapping it around like a personal flag, "it makes me feel like a real person!"
"You are a real person Genevieve, fancy cloth or no." Elsie said, though she understood perfectly what the other girl meant.
Genevieve didn't even seem to register what Elsie had said and continued exclaiming, "and the food is better than anything I've ever had, don't ye think?"
"Yes, it's very good." Elsie replied distractedly. There were people coming in and out of the dining hall all the time, and each time someone new appeared, Elsie's eyes snapped up to see who it was.
A small, amused sound brought Elsie's attention back to the table. Anika, who had a black, leather-bound book propped on the table in front of her, glanced up at Elsie and jerked her head to the side, "he's over there." She said, turning the page of her book.
Elsie gave her a blank look, "Sorry?"
Without raising her green eyes from reading, Anika said, "Charles - he's two tables to the left, sitting with Jack and that fella Fabrizio." The blonde girl paused and arched one eyebrow, "that was who you were looking for, wasn't it?"
Going crimson from neck to hairline, Elsie stammered, "That is not... no... I... I was looking for Jack, actually." Still, she couldn't help but sneak a glance at the table Anika had indicated. Sure enough, Charles was there, chatting amiably with the other men and apparently oblivious to her presence in the dining hall. Elsie frowned, disappointed.
Seeing this, Anika smirked. "Oh yes, Jack is it?"
Elsie was saved from having to respond to this by the arrival of breakfast. It was a mouth watering fare. Genevieve shook her head at the sheer excess of everything; it was more food than her family would be able to afford in a whole week, let alone for one meal.
With the meal now before her, Anika marked a place in her book with a very faded piece of blue ribbon and placed the volume to the side of her. Glancing at it, Elsie was surprised to discover that it was not a novel or some poetry as she had assumed, but a very well-worn copy of the Bible.
Following Elsie's gaze, Anika explained. "I usually read a verse or two before I go to bed, but I was so tired yesterday I didn't. Thought I'd make up for it now."
Elsie nodded. Talk of religion tended to make her uncomfortable, not because she didn't believe in God - she did - but because her faith was something she preferred to keep private.
Fortunately, the topic seemed to go unnoticed. Genevieve, who was spreading liberal amounts of marmalade onto her toast, decided to ignore the exchange regarding Anika's Bible and said, "Are you gonna ask Charles to sit with us then?"
"What?" Elsie exclaimed. "Good God, are we still on about that?"
"She was talking about it before, not me." Genevieve reminded her, indicating Anika. She looked at Elsie expectantly, "Well, are you?"
"I... no, I'm not." Elsie said firmly.
Anika looked crestfallen. "Nein? Why not, Elsie?" She whined, pronouncing her German accent thickly; she then stuck out her lower lip in a mock pout. "You should. I bet he'd like for you to ask."
Elsie looked so flustered that she almost upended her tea cup, "Don't be ridiculous." She sputtered, "Charles Carson can make up his own mind about where he wants to sit. If he wanted to sit here he would, far be it from me to pull him away from his mates."
"Your face is the colour of a tomato. Calm down." Anika commented, grinning. Beside her, Genevieve choked violently on a mouthful of porridge and began to cough and laugh simultaneously. Elsie looked thoroughly unimpressed with the pair of them.
Not to be sidetracked, Anika continued, "I don't see why you wouldn't want to ask." A thought then seemed to suddenly occur to her and she gasped. "Mein Gott! Do you have someone back at home, Elsie?"
Genevieve, her eyes watering, took a sip of water and cleared her throat vigorously before saying, "With the way she's been carrying on with Charles? I'd guess not."
"I have not been carrying on!" Elsie protested.
Ignoring her, Anika said reasonably. "Well she might have had one, and then was forced to end things on account of her leaving."
In an instant Elsie retorted, "It's not that, and I'll be in America for only a couple of weeks before we head back to England. So your theory does not hold water."
The conversation was quickly veering into a territory that Elsie didn't like and she was slinking around for some way to change its course. However, once Genevieve got an idea into her head, it seemed to be a near impossible task to divert her.
"I had someone - Henry." Genevieve got a little misty-eyed, and stared off into space for a moment before explaining. "Well actually, we never got to be a real couple, on the account of us both knowing that I was going to be going away - and figuring it'd be easier if we stayed just friends. He might be making the crossing next summer though, so then we can be together."
"That would be nice." Elsie said, not sure what to make of this impromptu confession, but hoping that it had distracted Genevieve from questioning Elsie about her own past romances.
No such luck.
"Didn't you ever have a special lad back home Elise?" Genevieve persisted in asking. Elsie pressed her lips together and didn't answer, which was apparently enough to make Genevieve bounce up and down in her chair and squeal. "Oh, you did!" She paused for a second, giving Elsie a questioning look. "Or you still do?"
Elsie couldn't help but feel annoyed. "So what if I did; what's it to you?"
Genevieve blanched a little. "I don't know." She said in a small voice. Twisting her napkin in her hands, she added, "You're my friend now. I thought you might like to talk about things like this."
Immediately Elsie felt terrible for having snapped at the other girl. She felt as though she had known Anika and Genevieve so long already that it was easy to forget that they were just lonely girls like her, trying to find people to fit into this new life they were creating for themselves. Genevieve didn't mean anything by her questions; she just wanted someone to talk to.
Even though she didn't want to talk about it, Elsie gave up and said. "Yes, there was a man... or there still is. I don't know." She took in a deep breath and looked away, "I don't like to talk about it. It's complicated."
"Oh," Genevieve said, "so I was right, there's someone." She gave her a wink, but stopped all her actions when she saw the seriousness on Elsie's face. "Oh, I'm sorry Elsie. You don't have to tell me about it, I won't ever ask again."
Elsie looked at Genevieve, then at Anika - who was pretending not to be interested in the conversation they were having; even though she clearly was - and realised, quite suddenly, that she did want to tell them, even just a little, even if it was just so there was someone else in the world that had some idea of what had happened.
"I met him a very long time ago," Elsie began slowly, not sure how to put her feelings into words. "And it all somehow started there. Later, our relationship developed into a friendship and -" She stopped, giving her mind a little break, "from there it never progressed into anything else. And now, after all these years, I think we're afraid to risk our friendship." She looked away, avoiding their gaze, "I always thought that those things existed only in books, but here I am - stuck in the middle." Her laugh was bitter. "And I'm sure I'll always get that lovely, weird look or facial expression when I talk to him. I just can't help it."
Genevieve seemed to pounder on this idea. With her cheery disposition, Elsie found it hard to believe that her friend had ever truly known heartbreak.
Eventually Genevieve asked, "Do you love him? This man of yours? I mean, truly, deeply love him?"
Elsie shrugged, "I think I do." She blushed slightly, "And I think that's the saddest part."
Genevieve made a sympathetic sound. "Oh Elsie, is it that bad?"
Anika mumbled beside her. "Obviously." She said, "Look at her face."
Elsie didn't actually know what her face looked like, but she assumed it wasn't precisely the countenance of a person filled with joy. It never was, when she really thought about it.
"Yes, it is bad." Maybe worse, Elsie thought silently. She gazed across the table at her two new friends - at Anika, who had such an innocent soul, looked as though she was about to cry at the mere thought of Elsie in pain, and at Genevieve who was the most conservative, careful and cautious person she had ever met.
"Well," Anika said finally, "I think we should stop discussing our tragic romantic pasts, we're not even through with breakfast yet. Suppose we let it alone for now?"
"That's fine for me." Elsie intoned, throwing her friend a grateful look. Anika acknowledged it with a small smile and a nod of her head.
Genevieve nodded, she was clearly disappointed that she wasn't about to get the full tale of woe. "Yes. We can talk about something else but..." She raised her head and looked behind Elsie who was looking curiously at her, "Speak of the devil."
"Can we join?" A familiar voice spoke up and Elsie froze on the spot, not daring to turn her head around.
"Of course." Genevieve smiled widely when she saw Jack, Fabrizio and Charles taking seats around the table.
Elsie glanced at Charles who took a seat at the other end of the table, slightly disappointed that he didn't sit next to her. Charles nodded his head in acknowledgement of her presence, but didn't say anything. And Elsie could help but wonder what he was thinking about.
After a few minutes of silence, Elsie helped herself to one of the oranges that had already been placed in a basket on the table. The fresh fruit was probably Elsie's favourite part of every meal.
"Why did you stop talking, Elsie?" Anika questioned.
"She wants to talk to Charles, obviously." Genevieve teased before Elsie could answer herself.
Anika said earnestly, "That's sweet." She dropped her voice into a conspiratorial whisper, "I think the two of you should get married."
Elsie gagged on her orange. "What?!" She yelped, drawing concerned looks from several people, including Charles.
Leaning in close to Anika, she hissed, "Are you daft?" I can't marry him."
Anika smiled gently and giggled, "You can because it's love. I recognise that lovely, weird look you get. It's him. It has always been him."
A noise Elsie didn't even know human beings were capable of making - one that sounded as though she was trying to swallow a boulder - escaped Elsie's throat.
"I... I... what?" She squeaked again, feeling a wave of heat wash over her entire body, "I don't... that isn't... what?!"
"Aw see that?" Genevieve said, gently batting Anika across the shoulder, "Look what you did."
Elsie was still so thoroughly gobsmacked that she couldn't even begin to form a rational response. Fortunately, she was spared the effort by the sound of a very insistent bell reverberating around the dining hall. Grateful for the distraction, Elsie, along with all of her friends, turned to find the source of the noise. A white-coated steward standing near the entrance to the kitchen seemed to be the perpetrator: he was holding a small golden bell in one hand, and using his other to silence the clapper.
The steward cleared his throat. "A reminder to third class passengers," he began formally, as though reading from a script, "no food is to be brought below to their cabins."
Anika, who Elsie knew had gotten into the habit of swiping a few extra rolls of bread for a midnight snack, fluttered her hand shyly to catch the steward's attention, "Um... what's the reason for that, then?"
At this, the steward broke his formal act all together and gave Anika a wry smile, "It encourages the rats."
Several women gave shrieks of alarm, several men guffawed with laughter.
"They have rats on this brand new ship?" Genevieve demanded indignantly.
"They're always the first to board." The steward replied indifferently. He then grinned at the group and added, "Enjoy your meal."
Genevieve scowled. "Rats!" She repeated, shaking her head, "I guess that's the end of your contraband bread, Anika."
Anika pouted. "But I like my bread." She said huffily, "Stupid rats."
Elsie sighed, eyeing her meal. There was just so much food that she couldn't even eat half of it. Leaning against the chair, she said, "We would pay a fortune for a meal like this back home, and here we get it all for free."
"Free?" Charles interjected from Elsie's left. "That's not entirely true."
Elsie made a mock insulted noise and spun around on her chair. "You eavesdropping there Charles?" She asked with a grin, pointedly ignoring the significant look that Genevieve and Anika had just exchanged. Was she really that easy to read?
Charles smiled back and turned his head, focusing on something else; while Jack seemed interested in arguing with her.
"If it's so free, why d'ye s'pose they charged us sixty shillings fer our passage?" Jack demanded playfully.
It was easy to see that Jack was intentionally trying to get her riled, which was why Elsie only smiled calmly. "No offence Jack, but it's not like any of you guys here paid for those tickets." She paused, rolling her eyes, "You and Fabrizio won them on a poker game, and Charles and I got them from our employers!"
They all fell into silence for a few seconds, taking in her words - until Elsie got the urge to speak up again and waved an arm around at the room, "And let's be honest, sixty shillings is a fair price I'd say for all this fancy living."
"Oh aye?" Jack shot back, getting up from his chair to pluck Elsie's white linen napkin from her lap. "And what do I need with all of this fine cloth and these electrical lights?" He asked, dangling the offending cloth in Elsie's face.
Elsie leapt out of her chair and made a grab for the napkin, which Jack held easily out of her reach. She scowled, but was unable to maintain the stern expression for any length of time. Elsie had the district feeling that Jack was trying to make up for his earlier doom and gloom attitude by passing it off as playful banter now. When Elsie made a second attempt to get hold of the napkin, Jack tossed it away. Elsie grabbed it in midair, gripping the cloth by one corner and used it to whip Jack sharply across the backside. When Jack spun around to glare at her, Elsie smiled innocently and fluttered the napkin at him.
"Well Jack Dawson," she said sweetly, "I'm going to have fine cloth, electrical lights and a whole lot more."
Jack smirked at her, "How'd I know ye'd say that?"
Elsie was suddenly aware that they were causing something of spectacle. Genevieve and Anika were staring openly along with Fabrizio and Charles, of course, but so were a number of other people at the surrounding tables. If what Jack said was true, and people were really worried and doubting their future in America, then this was an opportunity to change that, maybe to get them a bit excited.
Elsie crossed her arms nonchalantly and said in a much louder voice than she had been using previously, "Well I am, and everyone else here can have it all too."
Behind Elsie's back, Anika gave a delighted squeal and dissolved into giggles. Several other people reacted as well, which only made Elsie's grin grow wider. Jack was looking at her in utter bewilderment, "What in the name o' God are ye..."
"The New World Jack," Elsie said, "Land of opportunity." She gave the last word a special intonation. "And everyone can rise straight to the top."
Jack had evidently noticed that they had gained an audience, because he threw bemused glances at the neighbouring tables before hissing, "Elsie what are you trying to do?"
Elsie gave him a sly look, but otherwise ignored him, "I want people to believe in their dreams. They can do or be whoever they want. Anyone here can have a real profession."
Anika quite literally started to bounce up and down in her seat, "Me too!"
"Me three." Genevieve put in with a wry grin. When Elsie looked at her in surprise Genevieve continued, "Well sure, I'm not gonna sit around letting you two have all the glory, aye?"
Jack, who had apparently been floundered into speechlessness two minutes ago, found his voice again, "And you, Elsie, you're a lady's maid?" He scoffed, "Oh yes, I mean waiting hand and foot on some rich biddy?"
"I could be whatever I wanted and this is the job that I have chosen." Elsie said haughtily, "Plus, I get to live in a great grand house and be around fine people all day and night."
Once again Jack stood speechless in front of Elsie, his big coloured eyes looking fiercely at her.
"Well, I'm gonna be a sewing girl." Anika's cheerful voice broke the silence, not picking up on Elise's indignant tone at all. "Just like my mother." Her eyes lit up when she spoke about it, good honest hope shining through.
"My cousin Sarah - she's just my age and exactly like me - she went to America two years ago and married this fella called Joseph, and his sister Eleanor owns a dress making shop in New York and Sarah works there. She told me that they said I can work there too!" She said, her German accent visibly heard.
Like most things Anika said she spoke fast and giddily and it took a moment of pondering to work out what she'd said, but eventually Elsie caught on to what she meant and grinned.
"You lucky girl, having a job waiting for you like that."
Anika beamed. "Yes, I know." She nudged Genevieve with her elbow. "What about you, what are you gonna be?"
Genevieve gave this a moment of careful thought and then replied. "A governess, I think."
"You'd be good at that," Elsie said, "you've got such a way with children."
The French girl nodded. "That's what I thought. I'd like to find a nice family, with lots of young ones to look after. And be like Elsie, in one big fancy house." She added with a slight shy smile, as though embarrassed to admit that she too had dreams of rising above her current situation.
Jack, meanwhile, had returned to his seat and, together with Charles, was now looking at the three of them in a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment, as if he couldn't quite figure out if they were mocking him on or not.
"Something wrong, Charles?" Elsie asked with a mischievous grin. Charles narrowed his eyes and spun around on his chair.
"So you think America is all it's cracked up to be, do you Elsie?" Charles said from the end of the table.
Elsie removed her eyes from Charles and spoke up with a smile. "Sure," she replied brightly, "Why shouldn't I think so?" From his chair, Charles made a low, wordless sound of pure annoyance. Elsie resisted the urge to pinch him.
"It'd be good if it was, wouldn't it?" Fabrizio joined the conversation, his soft voice almost lost in the din of the saloon. "I hope you're right, Elsie."
Quiet Fabrizio's gentle statement was enough to make Charles look up from where he had previously been glowering into his cup. Elsie smiled at Fabrizio and flashed Charles a triumphant look before returning to her seat. Charles watched her progress, his face inscrutable. She was always fighting for what was right, but never to this level. He thought of how she really cared for all these people. Why is she doing all of this?
When Elsie arched an eyebrow at him in question, however, Charles quickly looked away.
Mostly everyone had turned back to their meal by then, but Elsie could hear the people chattering animatedly with their neighbours. Elise felt positive that the mood in the dining hall had shifted, and that the buzz of nearby conversation now carried with it a definite note of excitement. Maybe that was wishful thinking, maybe it was only what she hoped to hear. Elise glanced at Fabrizio, who was talking to Jack with a bright smile painted across his face. Maybe she was imagining things, but Elsie didn't think so.
Anika certainly seemed to be brimming with anticipation. She grabbed both of Elsie's hands across the table and said, "Elsie, Elsie it's gonna be grand. Just like you said; I know it will."
Elsie grinned at her friend and gave her fingers a squeeze. "Yes, I know so too. You have an amazing future ahead of you." She replied, thinking about all the reasons she was here too. Talking like this gave her hope too, hope that things might turn out right in the end.
Elsie became lost in thought for a moment as she looked around the tables and people that surrounded them. There were so many different people here. Every single one of them with different dreams and thoughts; with different points of view on the world and different hopes to put their faith onto. One American, two Englishman, one German, one Italian and one French. So many different nations and mentalities - so many different fates. All of them heading to the same place.
While Anika chattered on about her plans for the future, with Genevieve adding the occasional two cents, Elsie cast a sidelong glance at Charles. To her immense surprise, he was no longer hunched over his plate, scowling like the world was ending. He was, in fact, watching Fabrizio and Jack, the way Elsie had watched them earlier, no doubt noticing that tiny, scared Fabrizio looked more lively and animated than he had since they'd set sail.
As though he sensed Elsie watching him, Charles turned around. When he caught her eye she grinned not her usual full-of-cheek expression, but a gentler version of it, one that was almost encouraging.
She wanted so badly to tell him to let himself believe. Maybe Charles caught something of this in her look, because he blinked at her and immediately turned away again; his face just as unreadable as before, save for the tiniest, tiniest upward pull of the corner of his mouth. It was almost a smile.
Elsie gave a satisfied nod and turned back to her friends. It almost would do, but for now, it would do.
It would do.
In Rose's first class bedroom, Cora sat curled on the sofa with one leg tucked underneath her dress, and the other swinging a restless pattern in the air an inch or so from the floor. That was the pose she felt most comfortable in - and in that moment she didn't care for ladylike manners. She had one elbow resting on the back of the sofa and she had propped her head up on her fist, all the while hoping that she appeared at least slightly attentive to what was going on around her.
Rose, who was busy with her embroidery said, "It's nice being able to do something in peace. I'm done with having my mother hovering around telling me to go faster." She said, rolling her shoulders to relax her muscles.
"I'm sure." Cora said absently, remembering how it was living with her own mother. She knew from Rose's near-constant chatter, that her friend's mother was a little too harsh on her, telling her who she should marry and all that other stuff. This really took Cora to the past, remembering how she had married Robert. At first it wasn't a lovely marriage, but thank God they had fallen in love.
Cora envied Rose her embroidery - she had not thought to bring along a project of that sort, though sewing had always been a favourite hobby of hers. The steady click-clack of Rose's needles made Cora's fingers itch.
"We have too much free time." Rose continued, "when I write to my friends, they'll think I'm not having any fun."
Rosamund collapsed down on the sofa beside Cora just in time to hear this comment. She had been off helping a lady with her three feisty young boys. Rosamund thought the lady - who she had met by accident - was awfully brave to be attempting to make the crossing with all of her children in tow and no one to help. Rosamund had been thinking this because she had offered to watch the three boys while their mother attempted to go back to her cabin to grab something she forgot on the way. Rosamund, it turned out, liked children and she was very good with them. She adored spending time with Cora's girls when they had been younger. Now, she was looking back at her life and her marriage with Marmaduke and how they never had any children, and the thought made her a little sad. Rosamund liked children, but never had a chance to experience a life of a mother.
To Rose, Rosamund raised both eyebrows and said with genuine curiosity, "And what do they suppose you'd be doing onboard then? Swabbing the decks?"
"Well..." Rose said slowly, dropping her embroidery into her lap and scrunching up her face in thought, "Do you know, I'm not really sure?" She giggled, "Maybe they thought we would be made to take up rowing."
Rosamund burst out laughing. "That's what you should tell them in your letter." She said. "That the Captain made us poor first class folks row the boat all the way to America. See what they say."
"I can't do that!" Rose exclaimed, still giggling furiously. "They'd believe me."
Though she would have normally found this banter extremely funny, Cora managed no more than a distracted half smile. A single curl had come loose of its comb and was now dropping across Cora's forehead. She toyed with it, pulling the coil of hair straight and then letting it bounce back over and over again. Eventually this odd behaviour drew the attention of her two friends, who exchanged looks of puzzled amusement.
"What's the matter with you then?" Rosamund asked, after a moment of watching Cora play with her hair.
Cora blinked and dropped her hand back onto her lap, letting the wayward curl bounce into her eyes.
"Nothing." She said quickly, sitting up straighter and trying to look more attentive. "How did you become so good with the younger ones, Rosamund?"
If Rosamund noticed how forced the change of topic was, she had the tact to say nothing about it. Instead, she shrugged one shoulder and said, "I've got a brother. I don't suppose I could help it, could I?"
"I've got a brother, too, you know," Cora reminded her, "but until I had Mary I didn't know the first thing about looking after children. Not really."
"Well, I always had to watch over Robert." Rosamund sighed, "He was a restless child."
Cora considered this. She used to help with small things, but she hadn't been quite old enough to be entrusted with the full care of her brother when they had been younger.
"I suppose you've got a point." Cora finally conceded.
Rosamund gave Cora a long searching look. "Why do you ask? What's made you arrive to this topic?"
"I don't know." Cora said, trying not to squirm under the weight of Rosamund's gaze. "I was just curious, that's all." Sensing that the other woman needed something more in the way of an explanation, Cora added. "I was thinking you'd make a good mother."
"Ah well, we'll never know." Rosamund said as sadness was brushed upon her face and dried there like paint. She then patted Cora's knee in a consoling fashion, "And you're an amazing mother yourself, you know that right?" She gave her a reassuring smile, sensing Cora's dull state.
"Sure she is!" Rose piped up enthusiastically. "I'd be more than happy if she was my mother." The young girl added with a wink. "Besides, it's not like you've got to worry about that anymore. All your daughters are an adults now, so..."
Cora laughed in a way that she hoped sounded at least marginally natural. "Of course. You're right. Pay me no mind - I just get these notions in my head sometimes." She said.
"Whatever you might think sometimes, you were never a dreadful mother, believe me." Rosamund said smiling, leaning against the sofa's back.
The rhythmic click of Rose's needles resumed and Rosamund continued to suspiciously gaze at Cora. She was occupied by Cora's strange behaviour. She seemed distracted by some private thought of hers. Her look was thoughtful and her face looked maybe even a little bit concerned - but why?
Cora lifted her face up, looking out of the window and Rosamund couldn't help but wonder what troubled her sister-in-law's mind.
They were pulled back into reality when a sudden knock on the door awoke the room. All three of them turned their heads sharply and looked at the closed door.
"Come in!" Rose raised her voice and in an instant the doors opened.
"My Lady." A familiar voice spoke up, "I'm sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to check if you needed anything before I go."
"Mrs. Hughes," Cora said, hiding a yawn with the back of her hand. The party in third class yesterday; along with her and Robert's love session - which had gone well into the night - had left Cora without much sleep.
"You're not interrupt anything." Cora continued, straightening up. "Please do come in and join us."
"Oh please do." Rose exclaimed, continuing to do her work on the bed. "Of course if you don't have anything else planned already."
"Oh no, on the contrary." Elsie stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She sat on an armchair across Rosamund and Cora.
"Mrs. Hughes," Rose said, her gaze firmly fixed on the new guest, "what do you think New York is like?"
"I don't know anything about it except that it's big." Elsie smiled sheepishly, turning her head to look at Rosamund who also had never visited New York before.
"Do you think it'll be awfully different from home?" Elsie questioned to no one in particular, instead she waited to see who would answer her question first.
"I expect so." Rosamund replied thoughtfully, "I mean right away you know there's not just the English there. It's like this ship - a little bit of everything; Americans of course, but loads of other sorts of people too."
"Hmmm," Elsie rested her chin on her fist, "I wonder what it's like."
Cora shifted her position on the sofa so that the sunshine that intruded in through the windows was out of her eyes, and massaged the muscle in her arms; they were sore from all of the dancing she had done the night before.
"It's nothing spectacular, really." She commented absently. "Just a lot of big buildings - a lot taller than anything we've got in England."
"There's a great big statue too, of a grand lady with a torch." Suddenly Rose spoke, who sat on the bed. "It's in the harbour; it's supposed to welcome newcomers to the country. It'll be the first thing we see when we get there."
"I've seen that," Rosamund said eagerly, "Well, it wasn't a real photograph, just a drawing, but I'm sure it was the same statue."
Elsie turned around on the armchair and looked at Rosamund with bright eyes.
"Really? And she looks like that, torch and all?"
Instead of Rosamund, Rose answered the question. "Yes!" She jumped up from the bed, "she stands like this, see?" Rose assumed the position of the statue, one arm raised as though holding an imaginary torch.
Rosamund laughed. "Just like that, except she has got a book too." Grabbing the first book she found on the table beside her, Rosamund placed it in the crook of Rose's other arm.
Rose started to giggle. "No laughing!" Rosamund reprimanded, struggling not to laugh herself.
Obediently, Rose composed her features into an almost perfect mask of nobility. She raised her chin in a dignified way and stared importantly into the surrounding space. The illusion was ruined somewhat by the fact that Rose had to purse her lips hard to keep herself from smiling.
"There!" Rosamund declared, while Elsie clapped her hands and laughed delightedly, "A perfect Lady Liberty you are."
"What in the name of God are you doing?"
Without breaking her pose, Rose arched an eyebrow and peered to the speaker from the corner of her eye. "Hello Patrick. I'm being the Statue of Liberty, can't you tell?"
Patrick gave a short chuff of laughter. "Yes, you're the spitting image." He said drily. Rose grinned at him and he rolled his eyes.
"And why, dare I ask, are you pretending to be some great ruddy statue, eh?"
"Because," Rosamund answered instead of Rose, "Mrs. Hughes has never seen it." She added while dropping her arms to her sides.
"I hate to break this to you Rosamund, but you've never seen it either." Patrick replied, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a smile.
Rosamund swatted him with the back of one hand. "Hah hah," She said tonelessly, putting the book on the table again. "I've seen a picture, that's good enough until I see the real thing."
"Yes, well we're being stared at." Patrick informed Rosamund when he scanned every eye in the room and noticed they were all focussed on them. "Not that I think you much care about drawing attention to yourself."
"You're hilarious Patrick," Rosamund said. She attempted to smack him again, but Patrick saw it coming this time and sidestepped the blow.
Rosamund grinned. "Ah, he learns."
They lapsed into a silence that was comfortable for all of them, and yet it felt strained to Cora. Cora continued to jiggle her foot in time with the noise and shifted restlessly on the sofa. All at once, she felt that she couldn't sit still for a moment longer and half jumped to her feet, startling her companions.
"Cora?" Patrick enquired, looking up at her in surprise like everyone else in the room. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going for a walk, so I'll meet you later in the saloon." Cora said, deciding on the spot that she needed to get out of the room and go where she could get some fresh air. She felt that if she stayed here, she would explode.
"I think I might be getting a headache." That part wasn't true in the slightest, but Cora thought it might keep them from questioning her sudden departure. "Do you want to come?" She continued on, looking at Rose.
"I'll stay if you don't mind," Rose said with a cheesy smile, "I want to know if I can get this done before lunch." She held up her half finished work.
Rosamund nodded in agreement. "I think I'll stay behind as well." She arched one eyebrow at Cora, "so you can get over your... headache... in peace then."
Cora pressed her lips into a thin line. Rosamund was a lot sharper than Cora gave her credit for. She was sly, just as Violet was.
"All right, then. I'll see you in a bit." Cora spoke firmly and departed from the room.
She steadily walked down the hallway, occupied by her thoughts. She was thinking about her suspicions over and over again. She didn't dare say it out loud, or share her fears with anyone - well not until it was all confirmed.
Half way down the hallway she stopped, wanting to turn around and go to the other side of the ship; in search for the service she knew she much needed, but at the same time she didn't want to know the truth.
It's better to live in ignorance, isn't it? She thought and sighed, continuing her way to her bedroom. It's just my desperate imagination.
Throughout a minute an overwhelming sensation washed through her and she began to run all the way to her room. Several people she recognised called greetings as she approached, but Cora blew past them without slowing down. Later she would remember this and apologise for her rudeness, but just then, the last thought on her mind was being polite.
Throwing open the door to her room, Cora was relieved beyond measure to find it empty. If Robert or Charles - or any of Robert's pals - had been there, Cora wasn't sure what she would have done. Slamming the door close behind her, Cora leaned against it for a moment, panting hard, her eyes closed.
Could it be true? She thought to herself, feeling a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. She had suspected something throughout these past days, but she never gave it much thought.
I almost on accident told Robert yesterday, but I'm not even sure myself.
She deeply inhaled and opened her eyes just briefly, hoping it was all a dream. Cora noticed a mirror standing across the room from where she was - and in it, she saw herself and nothing but disappointment fleeted across her face when she saw she was still here; standing within her own fear, fighting and fighting the same thought over and over - becoming more panicked as her fears became stronger, knowing how irrational her feelings were. She was not in a dream, she was here. Unfortunately, she was here.
Cora made her way to the mirror, her movements sluggish as though it was a battle reaching her other self that stood in the mirror.
Cora couldn't ignore it any longer.
Don't you love a little drama? Well in my case it's a lot of drama but anyway...
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