A/N: Gaaah, this took so much longer to get posted than it should have considering its shortness. I blame my vacation and uefa that stole my mind. Sorry the chapter is so late, and so lamely short. It's one of those awkward interstitial chapters that sets the stage for a bunch of stuff that's gonna happen later.

Thank you Courtland for being such a wonderful beta and helping me out.

Enjoy!


CHAPTER XII

Ignorance

"My eyes are ignited with million of lights,

I'm wide awake in the dead of the night."

13, April 1912;

Without warning, looking almost panicked, Cora began fumbling at her clothes. She tore her hat from her head; scattering pins around the room and then she undid her dress. She tossed it on a nearby armchair and now she had to remove her hideous corset.

She was in such a state that it took several attempts to get all of the strings from her corset undone. Dumping the corset on the floor - without any of the care she would usually have shown to such an essential and expensive garment - Cora pulled in a breath and everything around her dawdled to a stop; she brazenly lifted her eyes and saw herself in her underwear, just standing there, staring hard at her reflection. Usually when she stood like this, she was mostly interested in how her face looked - but now it wasn't her face she was interested in looking at.

Taking deep breaths and trying to calm herself down, Cora ran her hands up and down her sides. She then held her arms out stiffly and closely inspected the narrow line of her waist.

Nothing.

She looked entirely normal. She turned from side to side, span around and checked her back.

Still nothing.

Swallowing hard, Cora turned so that her profile was framed exactly in the mirror. She stared at her reflection, looking for anything, anything that might confirm her fears. She stared until her eyes hurt for staring and her back started to ache from standing so rigidly. But even then, even knowing what to look for, Cora could see no outward sign that she was different from any other woman on the ship. There was no way, no possible way that anyone could figure out what was wrong just by looking at her.

For a long moment Cora stood there like that, convincing herself that all this was just a figment of her imagination; that perhaps, yes, this was just a dream she had hoped she was having. Letting out a sigh of relief, Cora finally reached behind her back and grabbed a fistful of her skirt. She pulled the skirt taut so that the creamy material lay flush with the lines of her body, instead of flaring out from her waist as it normally did. And there. There it was - the damning evidence. The proof that she was not at all what she seemed. Cora dropped the handful of cloth as though it had scalded her. Immediately the skirt fell back into position, covering up her secret from the world.

Unable to look any longer, Cora stepped as far as she could from the mirror. She tossed the skirt away and collapsed on the end of the bed. Her hands were shaking and a cold sweat was breaking out on her forehead, but she was all right, she was still fine. No one would know. But Cora. Cora knew. And she was terrified.

Could it really be true?

She pressed her open palms to her middle, feeling the slight swell of her abdomen, so faint that only Cora would have any idea that it wasn't her body's normal shape. Cora took a deep breath, held it and then let it out slowly.

It is, it really is.

She pressed her hands against her forehead, closing her eyes and enjoying the darkness that comforted her. She couldn't tell anyone before she confirmed her thoughts completely with someone professional. Until then, all this would remain a secret. But she knew what was happening, and she was still clinging onto the little hope she was allowed, that all this could not be true.

A knock on the door made Cora jump from her bed. She started looking around the room in search of her clothes. She stared at the door in alarm, then decided that she didn't have enough time to dress herself; so she grabbed her silky robe.

"Who is it?" Cora said shakily, scrabbling under the bed for her pins.

"It's me, Rosamund!" Came the woman's merry voice from the hallway, "Can I come in?"

This time Rosamund carefully asked before opening the door. She didn't want to see another unpleasant scene like she did on the first day of their voyage.

Straightening up, Cora tied a knot on the robe and pined up her hair. "Sure you can." She said lightly as though nothing was amiss.

The door opened and Rosamund walked into the room, slightly shocked by all the scattered clothes lying around the floor.

"Are you coming?" Rosamund asked, her keen eyes taking in Cora's slightly dishevelled appearance.

Cora made a vain attempt to smooth her hair back from her face. "Coming where?" She asked, trying to remember if they had agreed to do something in particular.

"To the saloon." Rosamund explained with an inquisitive tilt of her head, "Or have you forgotten?"

"I... no, I haven't. I suppose I am coming." Cora said, brushing her palm against her sweaty forehead, her mind racing. "I was lying down... because of my head, you know?"

Rosamund nodded vigorously. "Oh yes, that." She trailed off like she was questioning Cora's statement. "Are you feeling better now?"

Cora smiled and found that she was able to do so without it feeling terribly forced.

"Yes, thank you. Much better." She smoothed her hair one more time before flashing a surreptitious look at her waist band.

Everything is in order. There is no way she could figure it out. Cora thought, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, shall we go?" Rosamund raised an eyebrow.

"Give me a minute to change." Cora quietly said, and with that, she vanished behind the bathroom doors.


"Have you seen a picture too, Charles? Of New York?" Asked Anika, who was sitting out on the deck with the rest of her friends; trying to catch some sun on such a cold day within the Atlantic.

Charles shrugged. "Sure, I've seen one."

"Why am I the only one who hasn't?" Anika whined, sticking out her lower lip.

"Because you lived way the hell up in bloody Germany," Genevieve replied with a teasing grin. "And the rest of us are from cities that actually have shops with photographs. Hell, we've probably all seen the same damn picture."

Anika scowled and lifted her nose into the air. "We have shops in Düsseldorf too, you know." She said primly. Unfortunately for Anika, she wasn't able to maintain the air of rebuke for longer than three seconds, and so she almost immediately beamed and said, "Do you think there might be a picture somewhere on the ship?"

"There might be a print up in the dining saloon," Charles replied, taking a seat opposite Anika, Genevieve and Elsie. "I don't know though, I've never looked very hard." He eyed Anika curiously, "Why do you care so much about it?"

"Because it's gonna be my new home," Anika said earnestly, "and I can't wait to see it. It sounds like such a lovely, grand place."

Charles shook his head. "Ah, I see, you've been talking to this one too much." He jerked one thumb in Elsie's direction. "She has filled your head with nonsense."

Elsie made an indignant noise at the back of her throat. "It's not nonsense Charles!" She said, "Just because you're the only person on this ship that isn't the least bit excited, doesn't mean the rest of us have to be that way."

"Ah yes, so you never fail to inform me." Charles said rolling his eyes. "And I hate to burst your wee bubble Elsie, but I'm not the only person here who's not jumping for joy at the thought of America. There are plenty of people here who would have gladly stayed at home if they had been given half a choice." Charles leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

Elsie stayed silent and Charles was surprised by this. It was because Elsie didn't want to get into a spat with him, especially not now when they were getting along so well, but she couldn't stop herself from glowering at him. Elsie wasn't sure what bothered her more: Charles' pessimism, or the fact that something must have happened in his life to make him that way.

And because she wanted to stay on good terms with Charles for at least two more days, Elsie bit back the snippy retort she wanted to make and instead declared. "Well, I'm going to keep being hopeful if that's fine with everyone."

Anika nodded vigorously. "Yes yes, of course that's fine. I like it better when we all talk like everything's going to turn out right. It's so sad otherwise."

Through the silence in which had decided to join them, Genevieve said. "Aye, everyone lighten up before Anika starts to cry or something."

"I'm not gonna cry." Anika said indignantly.

"Aye and I'm glad." Genevieve replied, giving Anika a fond pat on the knee. "Nothing's more depressing than people bursting into tears all over the place."

Elsie laughed, with just a hint of embarrassment colouring her voice as she remembered her own display of emotions in public a few days ago. "You've got that right." She said.

Charles shot her a fleeting sideways glance that Elsie didn't think she was supposed to have seen. She obligingly pretended that she hadn't.

At that moment, the bell that was to signal lunch was ready to be served, rang out; making all of them jump. Genevieve shot a disgruntled look in the general direction of the sound.

"We've been summoned," she said drily, "Do you think first class has a bell clanged at them at meals?"

"If they do, I'm sure it's a very polite and dainty bell." Anika replied grimly. She got up reluctantly from the bench, stretched and said, "Alright lad and lasses, let's go."

While Anika and Genevieve trotted on ahead, Elsie held back to walk with Charles. He glanced down at her for a moment as she placed her hands into her pockets and allowed him his silence.

Finally he said. "What, so you're not going to try and convince me I'm wrong?"

Elsie smiled wryly. "Ah no." She assured him, "What's the point?" She continued lightly, "You'll tell me I'm just off my head anyway."

Charles made a small indistinguishable sound in his throat. Elsie looked up at him quizzically, tilting her head to see past the brim of her hat, but Charles didn't respond. They continued on in silence down the staircase; to the point where Elsie had to break off so she could put her coat and hat away in her cabin.

She opened her mouth to tell Charles she'd see him in a few minutes, but he cut her off.

"I don't think you're out of your head, you know." He said it delicately.

Elsie blinked. "Sorry?"

"I just..." Charles frowned, as though he was having trouble finding the proper words, "don't know how to think like you do."

"I..." Elsie stammered, momentarily speechless.

Charles took her incapacity to talk to his advantage. "Well, I'll see you in the dining hall, right?" He nodded a goodbye and hurried away before Elsie could even fully register the conversation.

"See you." Elsie said softly into the empty hall. She remained there for a moment; feeling as though she had just missed something very important, before turning with a sigh and heading back to her cabin.


Sitting in the first class saloon with her two friends, Cora peacefully drank her tea. Though, inside, behind her placate façade, her mind was still racing like crazy - but she tried to keep her composure.

Contrary to earlier in the day - when Cora had been so distracted that she had barely been able to follow a simple line of conversation - was now so determined to keep her friends from guessing of her unsettled mind that she was overcompensating. She laughed too loudly and spoke too fast, and was grinning so hard that her face was hurting.

Her behaviour, combined with the fact that she had hardly touched her lunch was not going unnoticed by Rose and Rosamund. After roughly twenty minutes and an innumerable amount of alarmed looks exchanged between the two, Rosamund burst out. "For pity's sake Cora, what's the matter with you?"

One corner of Cora's ridiculous forced grin unhinged, hanging on her face like a broken shutter. "What do you mean?"

"You're acting a bit strange." Rose whispered, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Strange?" Rosamund repeated incredulously, "She has been acting like a right lunatic!"

This was at least the third time Cora had been accused of being out of her mind in just two days. While this fact would have gone straight for her temper, Cora felt an odd sort of calm settle over her at the remark. Especially with how she had been behaving, it was no wonder everyone around here were starting to question her mental stability.

If Cora wanted them to stop worrying, if she wanted them to stop asking questions; or thinking too hard about what could be bothering her, then working herself into a state was certainly not the way to go about dissuading them. She needed to calm down. And Cora could do that. She had to.

Cora sighed and slouched backwards in her chair. "I know, I'm sorry." She said, "I've just had a lot on my mind since this morning and I suppose I've been... not myself really."

"Well now," Rosamund said with a half smile, still not believing her sister-in-law completely. "You could have just said so in the first place. We would not have minded, you know."

"Yes, well... trust me to make things harder for myself." Cora replied with a wry twitch of her mouth, "but you don't have to worry."

The conversion might have ended there if Rose had not suddenly given a great sniff from her place at the table, and lowered her head so that her red curls were practically brushing her plate. Cora and Rosamund looked at each other and then at the young lady.

"What are you about now Rose?" Rosamund demanded.

Rose sniffled again and wiped her face with a white napkin that was lying on the table.

"Nothing." She squeaked in a small voice.

Cora leaned forward and peered at her friend. "For the love of God, she's crying, is she not!" She exclaimed. Perplexed, Cora reached across the table and gave Rose's arm a shake, "Here now, what's gotten into you?"

"It's my fault." Rose suddenly wailed, drawing a number of surprised looks from their fellow diners, "It's because of me you're feeling bad."

"What? No! Jesus God almighty." Cora said, trying very hard not to start laughing. "It's not your fault, darling."

With this Rose sniffled even louder and buried her head within her arms. People were staring outright now and Cora cast a wide-eyed look at Rosamund, who had not even attempted to stifle her laughter and was now in near hysterics.

"These mood swings from all of you are hilarious." She murmured through laughter, "This arctic air is not doing any good on you two."

Cora gave Rosamund a serious gaze, though her lips were trying hard not to bend into a smile. "Come on Rose, stop that. I promise you, it's not your fault."

Rose raised her head. "Really?" She asked, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Cora nodded emphatically but Rose didn't look entirely convinced. "But if I hadn't been such a nosy wee bint this morning you wouldn't have gotten so upset, but I was and now I have gone and ruined your whole trip!"

"Well, now you're just being a ninny." Cora said, not unkindly, eyeing Rosamund who was still laughing so hard that her face had turned the colour of her hair. "You have done nothing of the sort."

"But I..." Rose began.

Cora cut her off. "You've done nothing, you hear?" She said sharply. "All you have ever been is kind to me. It's certainly not your fault that I happened to be a fool when I went into the third class party; with a man I'd just met a few days ago, not caring about anyone's feelings, about consequences, my marriage, or the fact that I suspected I was..."

And she immediately stopped her mouth from moving. Silence descended around the table like a shower of ice water. Rose stopped snuffling; Rosamund stopped laughing and both of them stared at Cora, who took about two seconds to realise what she had just said - before turning such a pale hue of greyish green that anyone watching would have been sure she was about to faint.

Cora gripped the edge of the table so hard that her fingers cramped. Her mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton; her throat felt constricted to the size of a pin. She couldn't speak, she couldn't breathe.

Rosamund was the first to recover. "You didn't mention that you went down there with that man." She remarked coolly, her expression unreadable.

The words stung like a slap. Cora swallowed hard, willing herself to say something, anything. "I... I didn't want to." She finally managed to gasp, "...I don't know."

"Oh, yes?" Rosamund's voice was carefully level, almost curiously detached, though Cora could sense an underlying thread of something that felt almost hostile. "We warned you, especially me and you didn't listen."

Cora cast a fleeting panicked look around the room like a cornered animal. "It never occurred to me that he wanted something. He was always a gentleman."

"And how did you manage to miss that little detail, then?" Rosamund continued, her tongue like a knife.

"I... I had no idea, I still don't have." Cora stammered, trying hard to regain her composure.

Rosamund said nothing, but her gaze revealed her disappointment and Cora couldn't look at her out of embarrassment. Rose was looking between them with her mouth slightly open. Cora's fingers tightened convulsively on the table, hooking the white linen table cloth under the quick of her nails. She looked at Rose pleadingly; hoping that the girl might say something to break the tension.

"Do you know at least something about him?" Rosamund cut in, before anyone else could speak. "About his family? Is he married? About where he came from?"

"Well sure I do." Cora said a little defensively. "He said...he said that he was visiting family in Dublin city. He was alone, he doesn't wear a ring, how am I to know?"

"So you never asked then?" Rosamund snapped sharply, clearly getting progressively angrier.

"Rosamund." Cora said, looking her right in the eye. "Rosamund, you have to understand that I would never do anything - I could never. You know that. I'm not that kind of a woman." Cora felt her voice trying its hardest not to break, she swallowed and continued on. "And it breaks my heart that you'd think I'm capable of something like that. You, out of all people."

"No, I don't think anything Cora. Absolutely nothing." Rosamund twitched one eyebrow. "I just thought you had more common sense than that."

"Pity, for my common sense has almost nothing to do with it." Cora said ruefully. "He was different. Not the slightest bit the same as others." The words came out in a rush now. "That man, he noticed me right away, came on all friendly, paying me compliments, telling me I was pretty." Cora stopped talking. She knew that she probably sounded pathetic, but she couldn't help herself. She reached across the table and grabbed one of Rosamund's hands.

Carefully, not roughly or with any malice, Rosamund withdrew her hand from Cora's grip.

Very slowly she said. "Maybe I'm overreacting, but you know what my father did to my mother. I'm sorry, it's just my instinct, I can't help it. You can do with your life whatever you want." She looked at Cora hard, taking in a deep breath. "But you know that mama caught him with her best friend." She paused. "Her best friend, who knew exactly what she was doing running around with a married man. It nearly killed my mother, even though she won't admit it. She was so upset when she found out."

Rose joined the conversation and grabbed Rosamund's arm. "But Cora hasn't done that." She said, still squeaky, looking like a child whose parents were fighting in front of them. "Cora would never do that, isn't that so, Cora?"

Once again Rose got no response, it felt like neither of them were listening to her at all. All Cora could do was stare wordlessly back at her friend, her face burning with shame. She dropped her gaze to her lap, twisting the table cloth into a knot with both hands.

"I understand if you hate me." Cora said after what seemed like an age, but it was really only a matter of seconds. Her voice was pitched so low that it was barely audible. "I know that my actions have been out of control these past few days but..." She paused, closing her eyes and sighing deeply. "I hate myself for doing it too."

Rosamund mirrored Cora and closed her eyes, and when she opened them again the cold look was gone. "I don't hate you." She said.

Cora lifted her head and stared, afraid to hope that she had heard differently. "But... but you said..."

"I didn't say I hated you, did I?" Rosamund replied sternly, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "I just said what I did so you would understand... why, I might have been... doubtful... of your story. It's a sensitive topic for me."

"But you don't hate me?" Cora repeated. "Truly you don't?"

Rosamund managed to smile. "Truly." She confirmed. "If you say that you're sorry and it won't happen again, then I've got no reason not to believe you." She looked away and fidgeted with her utensils, poking them into perfect vertical lines. "Besides... you're my family and my friend. Well, after all, it would be an awful shame to lose you." She gave out a laugh.

It felt as though the entire world had been holding its breath and had let it all out in one go; so dramatic was the change in atmosphere it was startling. Rose further shifted the mood by promptly bursting out into tears for the second time that day.

"Bleeding hell, there she goes again." Rosamund said bemusedly. She prodded Rose on the shoulder. "Hey Rose, get a hold of yourself."

"I'm just s-s-so hh-happy!" Rose howled.

Cora and Rosamund exchanged a look and dissolved into laughter. Cora, though, could just have as easily wept tears right along with Rose - because she had confessed; been judged, and had been found worthy of a second chance. Because she had been forgiven. And that meant that there was hope. Things might still work out for the best, that everything might not be as bleak as they seemed. But for now, Cora was going to carefully hide her other secret from the world - her little secret. She had time. She still had time.

Rosamund, still giggling gave Cora a mock-disapproving look. "Oh Cora, don't tell me you're going to get weepy on me now too."

"What?" Cora asked, baffled. She raised one hand to her face and was surprised to find her cheeks wet. She grinned at Rosamund, who grinned back.

"Oh lord, no, it's just from laughing."

And though this may not have been entirely true, it really didn't matter either way.


As always, I'd like to hear if you had a favourite (or least favourite) part in this chapter. Reviews are much appreciated. Feedback is my inspiration!

Have a nice weekend!