A/N: Thanks for the reviews, favourites and followers.

The pre-wedding party was in full swing, when Rose was finally ready to enter the stage. The reception was held in the Bellevue, like the one for the engagement as Cal, Nathan and Ruth all thought it easier this way.

The appointees had done their best to make it not only comfortable, but remarkable and unforgettable for everyone. Nathan Hockley had rented practically the whole establishment and they knew this assignment could get them a whole more, provided it was done to his satisfaction. For sure it would be cited in the papers tomorrow.

"You look fantastic, Miss Rose. Mr. Hockley will be so surprised and exultant," Betsy exclaimed. "Such a beautiful bride you're…"

Rose smiled agitatedly at her own figure in the mirror, her confidence slightly vanishing. This was the role expected from her to shine and dazzle everyone and everywhere. Shouldn't she be proud of herself instead of continuously questioning everything? She put her hands on each side inhaling deeply trying to draw strength from within.

She loved Cal, he was what she wanted and this was all that mattered. She had noticed how nervous he had been recently and she couldn't help, but wonder, if this was somehow her fault. She couldn't have been a very good fiancée to him – not with her confused state of mind.

"No one is expecting you to be overly talkative…on the contrary from a young lady it's expected to smile and…"

Rose forced a grin knowing the servant had only sought to help, but now she was even more jumpy. She dress seemed to be at least two numbers too small; the corset was pinching and clawing. In addition she was wearing Cal's wedding gift – the Heart of the Ocean. A very heavy stone – though it was marvellous, she felt like it was sucking her under.

Having no idea why, she was suddenly shivering and pulled her scarf closer around herself. She was tenser than she would confess to herself. Did Betsy how something she didn't? Rose somehow still got the impression like everyone around her knew some secret and only she wasn't let into. However, she would relent – for now. She wanted her mother and especially Cal to be proud of her. This whole thing here must've cost him a fortune – she would do everything in her power so that he would always remember this evening. She would become the woman he had always wished for.

"Achoo!"

"I knew it, these hotels are never heated up accurately…they're only concerned about their income nowadays…it's a real shame. I hope you won't catch a cold, Miss. It's bad enough already considering what you've been through."

"Its fine, Betsy. There's nothing wrong with me," Rose suppressed a giggle finding Betsy's sneering quite funny. At least for a moment she had forgotten about her situation.

"Oh, Miss…your purse…"

"Thanks…," without looking Rose gripping it.

….

Ruth was immensely relieved. As soon as she had been informed of her daughter's decision a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She couldn't care less about Rose's real motives; the only thing important was that she had come to the conclusion of Cal being the right one for her entirely by herself. There had been no shove from anyone else and therefore, if it shouldn't work out after all, Rose had only herself to blame for Ruth could always reply with a – but it was your choice.

When Rose came down the stairs she looked absolutely fabulous. The whole attire was part of her dowry, which her mother had told her had cost quite a tidy sum and therefore needed to be preserved and taken special care of. Rose by some means wondered why her mother was so concerned about money. She would've thought that they had enough to last for a lifetime. After all Ruth was spending hers head over fist…

"Rose, why are you so late?" Ruth silently hissed towards her daughter.

Taking about the devil…

She had by now understood that her mother had quite a temper and normally she was willing to turn a blind eye, but this one was her party and she was determined to have a good time – her mother shouldn't even try to ruin it.

"It's my celebration. Isn't it, mother? Mine and Cal's…and I think as the bride-to-be I've some excuse for being late," Rose grinned wickedly afterwards spotting Daphne talking with some people on the other side of the room, "Daphne, how nice you could come as well. I thought you had to work."

Ruth angrily clutched her fan gazing after her daughter. Rose was hitting her on her nerves – again. And here she had really believed they had overcome these complications.

"Ruth…ah…here you're…"

Ruth turned around at hearing her name being called. Lucille Duff Gordon stood there smiling brightly at her. Sometimes Ruth envied her, her life was certainly much more contented – at least she didn't have to trouble herself with any money problems or with an obstinate daughter. Moreover she had a husband, who seemed to have no objections against his wife designing lingerie.

"I'm so glad to be able to be here. Thank you so much for the invitation, Ruth," Lucille hugged her planting kisses on her cheeks. Ruth in fact hated this habit, it was making her edgy, but she gave in every time. "So where's the happy bride?"

"She must be somewhere nearby…I saw her talking to a friend…"

Lucille grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter handing one to Ruth.

"To Rose and…," she began her eyes widening, when she noticed that Ruth seemingly wasn't paying attention. "What's the matter…you don't…?"

"Ah, Lucille, it's nothing. You know I don't drink alcohol," Ruth gave her an insecure smile, but Lucille didn't seem to have noted.

Her cheery mood was almost swallowing up hers. Lucille was a great hostess, much better than her. She always knew some interesting stories for every occasion to tell. If only some of this easiness would be rubbing off of her. Although in some ways Lucille was the total contrast of herself, they agreed in most parts what concerned their families.

"I see. You must be so delighted with your daughter. I mean, when Esmé married I was so cheerful and smiling the whole time. I was probably even more anxious…," Lucille began. "The night before the wedding I was crying out my eyes…I couldn't believe that my baby was really a grown-up woman now…," she grinned. "I guess that's something all mothers have to go through. Right, Ruth?"

"What…yes, of course," Ruth quickly answered.

She had only been half-listening. Lucille went on about Esmé and her husband and their life in England.

"Mr. Hockley is a good man. You can be happy he has chosen your daughter…or was it vice versa?" she sniggered a bit. "I mean, I can very well imagine Rose twisting everyone effortlessly around her finger."

"And if you're worried about anything…just think of the grandchildren they will give you…," she grinned.

Ruth uneasily returned the grin.

Lucille was one of those people, who despite their age had preserved themselves their childlike mind. Ruth envied her. Nothing could be as devastating as not to find a way out for her friend. Lucille always made everything seem so simple.

Ruth stared at her, the glass shaking in her hand.

Was she egotistic? On board the Titanic she had dubbed Rose selfish. Lucille kept on telling her something of her life and business and in between Ruth felt herself transported back to the day she had stated the truth to Rose.

'Only you are able to change this for the better …everything is depending on you.'

She knew she was expecting very much from her daughter. However, Cal was no monster; he was a decent man and he treated Rose with utter respect. Despite anything else Rose couldn't have done any better.

As if reading her thoughts Lucille continued "…you know, Ruth, whatever headaches your daughter may give you…just be ensured that you never let these feelings stop you from loving her for the person she is…including all her faults…"

"You shouldn't be so severe with her…every girl has her own way of coping with the hard fact of becoming a woman."

Although mumbling a yes of course, this was not was Ruth was really concerned about – for everything she was concerned – Rose was growing up too fast.

…

"I'd be so nervous, when getting married and you're so calm, Rose," a girl named Georgia said.

Rose grinned at her. At least she had been able to get to know their names without asking. They were obviously some old friends from school. She wondered if they had all been in the same class for it didn't look like they were very fond of each other. It was more like they were competing for her attention – everybody trying to make her believe he loved her more.

Maybe they could tell her something about her past? But how could she find out without questioning them directly? She didn't want to show any weaknesses.

"Do you remember, Rose, when we talked about our marriage plans?"

"Did Caledon buy you this dress? It's a masterpiece. I'd die, if I'd get a chance to wear it."

Rose smiled towards Georgia. This girl was so hyped up. Hopefully she wouldn't forget to breath and faint? At least she was kind of funny and Rose found she couldn't be angry with her.

"Have you already decided on a maid of honour?"

Rose felt herself bombarded with further inquiries. She gulped down some agitation wishing that Cal would finally return from wherever he had disappeared to. This way she would be able to hang decoratively on his arm and he would tell everyone off, who got too close to her – like he had done with those reporters in New York. No more questions awaiting a response…

"Mr. Hockley has asked Tyrell," this was Amy.

"Don't brag so!" Hannah shouted "We all know that you're best friends, but it's still Rose's choice."

Hannah, Amy and some others turned their eyes towards her.

"I haven't picked someone yet," Rose got out wanting to talk about something else.

In fact this whole wedding chat was getting mind-numbing. At the moment she was much more interested in discovering where Cal had gone. Shouldn't he be with her the whole evening?

He seemed to have vanished from earth. Rose hadn't seen him since they had come here three hours earlier.

"There you're," her mother tipped her on her shoulder. "Are you free?"

Knowing her mother and realizing that she never asked a request Rose only nodded finding herself already being dragged away.

"We won't be long, ladies," Ruth unenthusiastically apologized.

"Mother, if I should've done anything…I'm…"

"Oh, no, honey…it's not about this…I just wanted you to meet someone," Ruth started "This is Lucille Duff Gordon…she's a stylist," Ruth quickly explained silently to her daughter while they were walking towards a middle-aged lady.

"Finally…here she is…you look gorgeous, Rose."

Rose was drawn into an embrace by that unknown lady. She smelled of perfume. Must be a very expensive one…however, Rose found the flavour a little too extreme. Was this required for a stylist?

She must be a good friend of ours, when calling be Rose.

Rose tried to remember, if she had seen her before. She looked to be nice person; at least she was welcoming her with open arms.

"I've got a special surprise," the woman whispered into her ear. "…for your wedding night…I've designed it exclusively for you."

Rose took a step back suddenly realizing what this lady was talking about. Did her mother know about this? And she wasn't angry? She had even left her alone with this woman.

"I…I…," she was so appalled she couldn't think straight and even less getting out a clear sentence.

Lucille didn't seem to mind and simply started laughing observing Rose's tomato-like face.

"Rose, dear, no need to be so shocked…I realize how this must sound to someone like you, but believe me I've also been young once and…let's just say some things make is easier for both husband and wife…," she blinked knowingly.

"You're mother's friend?" Rose found her voice again completely disremembering to thank her.

Lucille observed her puzzlingly. Something here appeared to be going on with Rose. She wasn't acting like her usual self. First she had looked upset, now she appeared to be scared. Although she was outwardly pretending to be excited about the wedding, inwardly Lucille realized that the opposite was true.

"Rose, dear, why don't be take a little walk together?"

Rose gazed round attempting to make out, if her mother or Cal could see her.

"Don't worry; your mother won't reprove you. I'm going to clarify everything to her," Lucille put an arm around her back pushing her in the direction of the exit.

…

The room was covered with smoke while the two figures inside continued yelling at each other. Nathan was puffing one cigarette after the other not caring about what the doctor had told him. Neither one was in the mood for a festivity – however, they simply couldn't cancel it for reasons of the family name.

"I should probably leave it to you, but still I feel the need to remind you about the doctor's instructions," Cal got out reproachfully, not really sounding overly alarmed.

They had been quarrelling since arriving here mainly about business, but also about Rose and the wedding. Cal had made an effort to discuss the marriage contract with his father. Since Rose was trying her best to make their relationship function, he felt that he owed her something in return. What better to demonstrate his love to her than to tear up this pact?

He had reckoned his plan without the host. His father was never retreating. The older he got the more stubborn he went. He had simply told Cal off not even hearing out his motives. His father was so cruel sometimes…Cal wondered how his mother had managed to live with him.

Was her life with him really such bliss like she had wanted everyone to believe? The delicate figure of his mother and his stern strict father, his rough hands enfolding her body…Cal shuddered. Some things shouldn't even be thought off.

"I could still marry her without signing this paper," Cal informed Nathan, who only shrugged his shoulders, staring blankly.

His son was being too forwarding. He had obviously forgotten his place. However, for once Nathan was truly proud of his son. If only that newfound daredevilry wouldn't be turning up against himself. He started coughing again his latest heart failure obviously having made no impact on him. He wouldn't change his daily routine.

"Don't be ridiculous, Cal. It's not very befitting. You're such an obedient son. You wouldn't want to earn your own money, now would you?" he threatened.

Cal couldn't believe it. He would really go to the extreme? Disinherit him his own flesh and blood? Nathan's eyes had become small, penetrating, and dark, like those of a snake in searched for her newest victim.

Cal stood there his mouth half-open, not able to articulate what he was thinking…much less come to terms with his own feelings. He could hear the music still playing and pondered if it would be best for now to just leave his father for good. Rose would surely be more welcoming. Lately, when they had spent some spare time together, he had been taken back to the past – their relationship had been fresh, energizing…and stimulating his hard days once.

Had all of this been lies? All her words been deceits? Cal was no fool. He had told her many fabrications too. He still did. It was common knowledge to everyone that once you became engaged to a woman there couldn't really happen anything to break up the betrothal again – the woman would only look debauched and the blame be put on her.

Cal had believed in that saying and had failed miserably. Ostensibly Rose hadn't cared about the whispers of other people.

"Don't stand there like you're trying to catch flies, Cal."

Immediately Cal closed his mouth. His father had a really good perception in reminding people that they were beneath him, making them sadder than they already were.

"I'm your son, Sir. You can't talk to me like this!" he raised his voice.

For once Cal had indeed forgotten his manners. He had never spoken to his father in this tone.

"I will talk to you as I please. It's my company and my…"

"Rose is my bride," Cal practically screamed. "Shouldn't I be the one to find a way to live with her?"

His father wouldn't listen. He never did. Once he had made up his mind he wouldn't amend it. The cigarette in his hand was almost at an end. His osseous fingers were clasping the last straw. Nathan had been quite attractive in his youth, a much thought after bachelor – what power and greed could do to people.

"You're being absurd Cal. Rose and you are both far too young to decide on anything important…it took me years to build up this factory…I won't see it going down to drenches now…"

I'm glad to know you've got such a high opinion of Rose and me.

Cal grimaced annoyed.

"Whatever are you staring at this time? Shouldn't you go and find your…?" the rest of his sentence was lost by another cough.

Nathan put a hand over his mouth, his whole body shaking. It hurt more than he would declare. Nathan would never show any frailties. Showing flaws meant turning the other cheek.

"Father, are you alright?" Cal came up to him wanting to touch him, but his father turned away.

"Now you're being pathetic…I bet both of you would be happy to see me dead."

Cal was flabbergasted at his father's very own accusation. He couldn't care less about the party or even Rose at the moment. This matter needed to be solved instantly. The light began flickering like on the day the Titanic was sinking – the situation was a bit little like those on a funeral – a very sombre atmosphere indeed only that Cal thought of himself being the one in the gasket.

Nathan had grabbed his collar stretching it slightly trying to get more air into his lungs.

"I'm not taking this," Cal calmly got out noticing that his father had recovered. "You're speaking about Rose here…my bride…about us like we're some of your labour workers…how can you even think that…I would never wish anything bad on you. And neither would Rose."

Nathan wasn't impressed.

"You can leave, whenever you want. No one is forcing you to stay, Cal. However, for the sake of our lovely Rose I would advise you to reconsider your decision…I don't think she'll be very comfortable in a common dormitory…that goes for both Dewitt Bukater women of course…"

"You knew?" Cal's voice was silent and hurt the sudden confession of his father knowing was even harder than reading it for himself in that diary.

He felt betrayed. If only Dawson would be here now – he needed to hit someone so desperately. If he would be the member of some street-gang his could just grab the nearest ill-fated soul…taking it out on him. But as he a supposed gentleman sadly this wasn't an alternative – he had to pretend and lock up his sentiments.

"Don't look like you had no idea. Did you honestly thing it was Rose's choice? That you were her preference? I would've have thought you smarter, Cal," the light left Cal's eyes as he realized the amount of defraud he was taken by.

"Please don't look like you want to convey your deep love for her all of a sudden…we both know this isn't true…I know it especially well, because it was me paying the bills for all these girls…don't act like a new born saint…you're not…"

"Ruth came to me not soon after the day you two had first met. It was long before your engagement…or even before I started considering Rose as your wife…,"

"Not that she wasn't carefully selected…but after all you needed someone and Rose was there…at the right time…"

"I'm going to tell her."

"If you think this is doing your relationship any good…but don't forget to state your part in it. As far as I recall you had initially nothing against the marriage contract. Wasn't it in fact you, who came up with this idea for fear that Rose could scramble your fortune…," he could say his son's body getting strained "…or should I tell her? Should I tell her about Victoria and Olivia…Babette and…," Cal face fell "…I see you've understood," Nathan leant back in his chair.

"You wouldn't…"

"Don't provoke me!" Nathan held up his fist warningly "No I won't, but only because of how much I like Rose. She's a decent lovely girl…" and you don't deserve her.

His father was so composed, it infuriated Cal even more.

He hurried towards the table stemming his arms on it, peering into the eyes of his father. He remembered his childhood – how often his parents had lectured him, how his father had beaten him with a birch…how he had been sent to bed without food…

Rose had been the first one…probably the only person, who had treated him like a human being. The way she had looked at him once…if only it could've lasted. Maybe he had really been dumb to even think it could be more than a business arrangement.

This time he wouldn't back off. Now it was about his life and happiness. He wouldn't let anyone ruin it. Rose had almost slipped through his hands once; he wouldn't miss another chance with her.

Until Jack Dawson had started playing with the doll, he hadn't even considered that it could be anything else or cared about it. Now he wanted his possession back – more than this, he wanted everything. He wasn't going to content himself with any less but her love.

"Listen to me, father. I'm going to marry Rose and we're going to be happy together…with our without your approval," he looked him deeply into his eyes, but Nathan was seemingly used to this not showing any emotion.

"Go and find your bride. This outrageous behaviour doesn't suit you at all. Don't forget to remember, who made you what you're. You can't ignore your heritage, Cal."

Angrily Cal stormed to the door tearing it open in haste.

"Oh and before I forget…the last word concerning the marriage contract has yet to be spoken…," he then slammed the door shut. "We'll see about this…"

Nathan started laughing uncontrollably though the coughing prevented him a bit.

"No, we won't."

….

The April air was actually refreshing. Rose took a deep breath and suddenly the corset didn't seem so tight anymore. She should've put her mind in gear, before opening her mouth. Now she couldn't take them back. Rose sighed.

The stars they had never seemed so vast and endless before and still Rose hadn't felt so comfortable in a long time. Somehow she had got the impression as if she had been here previously; she was having some kind of déjà vu. She didn't feel the cold anymore, in fact it was rather becoming. The sky above her – was it coming crashing down on her? And so many stars…no one would be able to count them. The woman besides her hadn't said a word. Was she waiting for her to open her mouth?

"Rose, I…why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

"Mrs. Duff Gordon…"

"Oh no Rose, why so formal…don't you remember you've to call me Lucille."

"Of course…I'm so confused sometimes…," Rose started chuckling hoping that she hadn't noticed.

There it was again. This peculiar sensitivity she always got, when she felt trapped. Now she couldn't even explain why. After all it was not her fault that she had lost her memory and it was certainly no need to feel guilty. The wind started to blow up her silky dress and Rose hurried to rearrange everything as it should be. She was expected to answer. She knew it. Only her tongue was stuck in her throat, her lips felt like they were being stitched together. Gazing back up at the stars, trying to draw strength from them…no this wasn't the first time she had been in such a situation. The whole atmosphere was similar to another place and time – just the person she had experienced it with had changed.

"I can imagine how you must feel at the moment."

Rose doubted that, but continued smiling politely, wondering what she was going to be told. Nobody seemed to actually miss her and unlike so many other times, when Rose had felt lonely and wished someone would come to her – asking her some questions, showing some interested in her life – this time she was in fact glad there was no other one around.

This lady didn't count. She could easily be ignored. The relieve she had felt after choosing Cal had been replaced by one of hesitation – a strange voice inside her whispered that not all was well, that Cal and her mother were both holding something back. Rose disregarded this voice – for once deciding to pay more attention to the person sitting next to her.

"What are you implying?" Rose spoke up like she didn't know exactly.

Lucille marvelled if Rose was being authentic or simply playing a role. Ruth had once or twice mentioned how her daughter was keen on deceiving people and how much trouble it had taken her to restrain her in her youth. Today it was so hard to tell with young people, with all those new ideas they were swept up in. Rose was certainly no exception in this. While she was of course a bright girl with a clear mind, she was too immature to come to terms with the hardships of life or able to fully comprehend the full impactions of her doings.

One could only hope that Mr. Hockley would be enough of guidance for her – Rose undoubtedly needed more than one helping hand, someone to push her into the right direction. Lucille somehow had misgivings about Ruth being the right person for this. Though she knew that she loved her daughter and cherished the time with her, she was a completely different character and not very empathizing.

"I know your mother can be a handful sometimes…but she doesn't mean it. Trust me she just wants to see you happy," Lucille grabbed Rose's hand squeezing it "Ruth is your mother and I realize how hard it is sometimes to speak about your problems with one's own mother…"

"You mean I should…?" Rose gazed at the stoned floor.

"I don't mean anything. I only wanted to remind you that you're not alone in this. I was also young once and innocent…and naïve…I married at barely eighteen to a man twice my age, who soon proved to be a gambler and a drunkard…"

Rose eyes fixated even more on the stones. What did this woman want from her? Pity? Why would she tell her this story now, three weeks before her wedding – at her reception? Rose found this a strange way of convincing someone to go on with a marriage. Her face showing her confusion she looked up at Lucille, who seemed to be thankful to be finally able to speak with someone about her life.

"Oh no, Rose…I was not my intention to scare you. Mr. Hockley has a totally different personality. He cares for you and only wants your best."

Did he really? Rose was perturbed again. Sure Cal was nice, treating her like a gentleman, but something was missing between them. She had observed him more than once at dinner, whenever he came to have supper with them after work – how he had avoided her gaze at certain questions being asked – how he never told her anything about the company. But her mother seemed to think nothing of it, her friend Amy found it normal too…both had laughed at her, when she brought up this topic. Did Cal trust her? The older Mr. Hockley always spoke so highly of his deceased wife. Would Cal do praise her too in a similar situation? While she had no doubts he had feelings for her, she always felt as if she needed to prove herself in front of him.

While recovering from the alcohol lately she had had to admit to herself that it was mainly her doing the talking – they had been far from having a conversation. They probably never would. Cal wasn't the type of person to express his dispositions to anybody and she was accomplished to not having any. In his presence and even more so in her mother's she was constantly playacting…she hadn't even realized it until she had met with Mr. Dawson.

"Sometimes, when we're young we tend to make the wrong decisions…I certainly did, but we shouldn't be ashamed…after all that's the process of…," Lucille looked at Rose wanting to know, if she was still listening "…anyway a good husband understands the needs of his wife and supports her…Cosmo always does…even more so he reads my mind…we're perfectly complement to each other…"

Rose gulped. If her intention had been to alienate her further she had definitely been successful.

"Don't repeat the faults of your mother. Make your own," she smiled unexpectedly standing up. "Now enough of this talk, before I really get depressed…why don't we return to our circle…all this gossiping has made me hungry," she took a few steps towards the house, but stopped once she noticed that Rose wasn't following.

"Rose?"

"I can't imagine Cal encouraging my wish to design lingerie. I mean I don't want to sound…I'm sure it's an honourable profession and…thank you for your present…," Rose stammered.

Lucille had retaken her seat.

"Rose, dear, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I…," she wanted to sound stern, but her voice betrayed her. "It's just…the wedding and…," without even realizing it hot tears began streaming down her face. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have…," she took out a handkerchief wiping away her tears.

Lucille was aware of the fact that Rose was having more than just wedding jitters. She was hiding something, not only from everyone else, but from herself as well.

"Why don't we meet sometime next week, before I need to head back to New York? I don't know the city very well and could really use some company. I'm sure you know all kind of fascinating places. You could tell me a little bit about your study experiences and I'm eager to hear, if you've already made some efforts with your acting…"

I've been studying? Mother has really allowed me to enter university?

She had noted already that she had an interest in the arts and obviously in the theatre as well…probably even more so…she loved being another person, pretending to be someone else. If only she could remember when she had seen this sky before, these stars…she recalled herself telling someone of Mrs. Lucille's profession and she evoked giggling slightly at the mentioning. It was all very clear now. She had been here before, just not at this place. But she had looked up at the sky, the stars, even witnessed a shooting star. When her mother had told her about the lingerie, she had instantly known it was true. If only her mind wouldn't mind like a sieve. If only she would be able to place all these remembrance together so they would start to make some sense. Frankly she didn't want to return to the party, she wasn't prepared for anymore monotonous talking. She would rather sleep or better spent a whole day with Cal or with…shaking her head trying vainly to persuade herself once again that it couldn't be she started smiling at Lucille.

"I would love to," she nodded in agreement, before both rose up walking back to the hotel.