Hi all, so here is another chapter and I am loving the speed of which I am getting through this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter as the plot starts really in the next one.

The character of Maud Ismay is fictional. This story is fictional. The vilification of Bruce Ismay is based on the incredible way Jonathan Hyde played him in the film and not in real life. This story is fictional and therefore anything to do with Bruce Ismay his family and his actions should be treated as such.

Disclaimer-Nothing is mine.

Please Read and Review.

And the normal warnings about historical accuracy etc.

Some Kind Of Tomorrow

Chapter 8-The Things We Have To Lose

Isabella Ismay finally learns the story of her mother and father and how she came to be.

Bruce Ismay gave a long sigh. Honestly he'd rather the ship go down than deal with this. But then again the girl had always been wilful, impatient, annoying. He had tried, nobody could say that he had not tried to love her, the closest he had gotten was tolerance. And if he was being honest if it was not for his mother—dearly departed from this world—then he was not sure he would have even bothered with her.

But she was standing here staring him down with a terribly familiar look on her face. He had seen it on his mother's face and on his sisters. Maud had always been completely unafraid of anything and everything and it had bitten her in the backside in ways that nobody could have foreseen and yet here was the proof standing in front of him.

Stupid girl.

But still, better she hear about this from him rather than one of the guttersnipes that was the first class aboard this ship. And certainly better now she understand the consequences, the difference between a good marriage based on social structure and financial stability rather than a bad one based on love.

Love was such a waste in a marriage. If you got it good but only the truly idiotic went out in search of it.

And the poor he presumed. Not that he would know. He never had much to do with the poor.

"Your mother, my sister Maud was seventeen when she insisted on doing some charity work with the local school. There were several younger children, girls and the Church was struggling to fund an education for them so my sister, your mother stepped in. She began to spend all her time down there helping with the younger children identifying who had promise and so forth. I did not think it appropriate but our father had just died and my mother was much comforted by the thought of Maud doing such good work"

He took a puff on his newly lit cigar.

"It was there that she met…him"

Christ even now he couldn't think of him with anything less than revulsion. The man who had cost them so much.

"Your father was what I imagine he laughingly called an artist. Of course there are ten a penny of what he could do but he could charm his way out anything and he had dreams. He was not unlike young Mister Dawson and from what I've heard he had about as much sense as well. He was full of bright ideas about the working class and freedom for them and all sorts of useless rubbish. Your mother of course thought it was wonderful. A brave new world for a brave new era. We had a woman on the throne did I not know?"

He laughed.

"But he was charming and carefree and they fell—well she told me she fell in love with him—he later told me he fell in love with her. That they had plans to go to the Gold Rush in California and start a life there. America was considered the country where dreams could be made. Utter bollocks of course but the papers will write what the papers will write one supposes. And they ran off together"

She inhaled slightly.

"You were born…well…I imagine that was the period you were conceived…up against a wall in a tavern if I know my sister well enough. The funny thing was they almost made it as well. And I was all for cutting the loss. We were on the cusp of society and we were on the brink of making it. I could have spun that story in a way that cemented our place as Gods far more earlier than I did."

"But?"

"Well your grandmother could not stand it. Could not stand the shame or perhaps the loneliness I never did ask and she never did tell. She begged me to go after her and stop her and so I did. I kept hoping I would miss them but she was anxious to meet me. To assure me that all was well. He came with her but I was prepared. I had him arrested for kidnapping and took her back with me. All done nicely and neatly I suppose"

She gazed at him and he found he had look away. Her resemblance this time to her father was glaring back at him.

"Of course she kicked up a fuss but she was pregnant and I struck a deal—she could keep you (though had you been a boy I can assure you, you would not inherit) and I would see to it that he was let go and given passage to America. She could never see him again but I could give out the story that you were some ward that she had rescued and…and it was all supposed to work out well but…"

"But?"

"But he kicked up a fuss. Snuck back in six months after she got ill. Said he had rights as your father and back then he would have done as well. So I told him that you had died and that Maud was so distraught she had killed herself"

"You would let my mother be accused of such a sin in the eyes of the Church?"

"Oh sweetheart it was not that much of a lie. She loved him, she believed that he had abandoned her and so she stopped eating. Fell into a depression and then you were born and giving birth to you severely weakened her. Your grandmother insisted we get a doctor but she was halfway to the Good Lord before he arrived and I certainly was not going to entertain such foolishness again. I had him deported and had a friend of mine make sure that he understood that if he came back again I would have him killed."

"And did he?"

"No. Funny that, he was so…devoted I really did think he would. It would have been a final end to it I suppose but…but he did not"

"Is he still alive?"

Bruce shrugged. How was he supposed to know if a guttersnipe was still alive?

He knew enough thought. He always knew just enough. He had to.

"Last I heard he went to America. Virginia I believe. He had family there and he ended up back with them. Somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. It does not matter even if he did recognise you and he will not, he knows what will happen. Besides for all I know he has his own family by now. I doubt he even remembers you"

Sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind and he thought that like with Maud he had to be cruel to be kind. His sister had never forgiven him but he had raised her daughter and had secured a good future for her. Considering she was born on the blanket of bastardy he had done his bit. Once married his connection to the girl was over and he was not ashamed of saying so. Bruce Ismay could be called many things—indeed he knew he was but he was honest.

Even when that honestly hurt.

"Why did you do that to your own sister? Why not allow her to be happy? You could have disowned her perhaps but you could have weathered through the scandals."

"That was your grandmother's view" he admitted once again driven to honesty when it came to her.

"But I did not think it would work. Besides. She was my sister. I wanted her to play her part. She was my only sister. I could have made connections through her. And a scandal is always a scandal it does not matter weather or not you can die it down."

Isabella nodded. She stared at the porthole window and in a moment of genuine thought he wondered just what on earth was going through her mind.

"You wanted for nothing" he reminded her. "And you owe that to your grandmother."

"Because you did not love me?"

He paused.

"The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" He said repeating her words from earlier and

"Yes" she said finally.

"No."

"Did you ever"

"No"

She did not react nor did he think she would. Isabella was Maud's girl through and through and even Maud did not react to bad news with tears and tantrums.

They were Ismay's. They were raised on a diet of secrets, lies and little emotion.

"Does that make you feel better or worse?"

He did not know why he was asking. But he was asking all the same.

"Nothing" she said finally giving him that long level look that his sister employed.

"I feel nothing"

Bruce nodded.

It was better than he could have hoped for.

He stood up and came close to her. She did not flinch as he grabbed her by the back of the neck so that there was nowhere to hide and he forced her to look at her, to understand the words that he was saying, for her to understand that this was 1912 and there was no time nor place for love in her world.

"Good" was all he said. "We'll get you married. And then my duty is done"

He let go of her then.

"I am going to see the Captain and then I will avail myself of a brandy. Will I see you for dinner?"

"Yes" Isabella said faintly as if she understood that there was no room in this ship, in her life to say no to him. "And then I will go straight to bed. If you excuse me Uncle you have given me much to think about"

He swept from the room.

There was no point in having her watched. Bruce had a feeling that the truth had shattered her pride and had shaken the grounds of the world she had lived on. Besides…

This was a ship.

He was Bruce Ismay.

Where could his niece go?

She made her way back to her cabin and locked the door before she slid down the wood panelling collapsing on the floor breathing in and out hard as if she had just run a race. A little moan escaped her and she had clamp her hands over her mouth to keep silent.

So now she knew the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

The depths of her Uncle's cruelty surprised her and frightened her. The acknowledgement that he had, that he could do anything he wanted was staggering. His pride had never really been damaged simply because it had come at the expense of someone else's happiness.

And her father was still alive.

She had no idea what to make of that. Of the man who had come back and fought for her twice against overwhelming odds and the man who had been lied to about her for nearly seventeen years. She had no idea if he even knew she was alive.

Somewhere in the mountains of Virginia.

And her mother.

Oh God her mother.

She had jumped of the same ledge Isabella was on and had never regretted it but it had cost her everything, everything and anything. All the chances of happiness in the world condensed into a single moment.

She slid across the floor to the chest of draws beside the bed and reached for the very battered book that had once been her mothers. She flipped absent minded though the pages looking for something. She had seen writing in the margins before her mothers and another handwriting she had not seen before but as she got to the death scene she paused.

There in her mother's handwriting was the word.

Theo.

She had never known who or what that meant and she had never asked either but now she stared at the name and thought that she knew.

She flipped to the front.

Blue Ridge. Patterson Mountains.

Again she'd had no idea who or what these towns were or these places and she grinned despite the overwhelming tears in her eyes that blurred the words because she thought that she knew what she was staring at.

Her mother was giving her clues to find her father.

Her mother was telling her to go.

And by God Isabella was going to. She was going to run away from all of it. The dances and the dresses and the social expectations, the coldness and the never ending gossip. Granted her father might not want to see her but either way this was her moment, this was the chance she had to escape and hearing about her mother had put her moments of wishful thinking and dreams into a stark reality.

It was worth the risk.

Love was always worth the risk.

The real question now she thought grimly still sitting there on the carpeted floors, was if she was running away from this life alone.

And there you go, let me know what you think.

Next Chapter-Isabella makes her decision as all the cards have been laid on the table.