"Rob! No!" I squealed with delight as he pulled me toward the second class stairs. I didn't even recognize my own voice. He took me down the winding stairs and out onto the third class deck, where we stood in front of the blonde man, who had stopped staring at whatever he was staring at before.
"Excuse me, but we couldn't help noticing that you carry a sketchbook with you. Do you mind if we take a look at some of your work?" Rob asked politely, while I stood behind him, my face beet red.
He looked up at us, and I knew that he could tell that we weren't third class by the way we were dressed. But, he still spoke to us like we were equal, which caught my attention.
"Oh, no, go ahead," he said with a smile, and handed us his portfolio. We sat down at a near by vacant bench, and I looked out to the sea, and realized that we were anchored off a shore, taking on more passengers from Ireland, I guessed.
In the man's folder, there were many drawings and sketches of people, some of which were nudes of women, and to my surprise, Rob didn't shield my eyes from them as most men would have done. All the drawings were excellently drawn, as if in a dream. The hands and eyes were most expressive, and stood out the most. Rob looked at one particular drawing that wasn't of a person, but the Eiffel Tower.
"Here's your tower, Belle," he said. It was a beautiful drawing, so full of life.
"It's exquisite," I breathed. Rob turned to the man.
"How much for this drawing?" he asked him. The man and I were both surprised by this.
"Ten cents," he said, looking from him to me, and winking at me.
"How about fifteen for bothering you," Rob said, taking out a dime and a nickel. The man's eyes winded.
"Oh, it was no problem at all. By the way, my name is Jack Dawson, and if you're interested in anymore of my work, you know where to find me," he said, accepting the coins. I stood up when Rob did, and took his arm.
"Thank you, Mr. Dawson, you have a wonderful talent," I said, smiling.
"Thank you, miss, and please, if we ever meet again, call me Jack," he said, smiling and waving as we walked back up to the boat deck. Rob and I walked and continued our conversation for a while more.
"He is a very talented man," I said, looking at my drawing.
"Yes, very talented," Rob said, "Good thing I dragged you down there." I laughed, looking into his deep, green eyes.
"Thank you," I said softly, "for the drawing, and for dragging me down there."
"Your welcome."
I lead him to my room, and put the drawing up against the mirror on my vanity, re-pinned my hair, and we continued walking. Looking at my watch, the time reminded me that I had reluctantly agreed to have lunch with my mother and sister in the Palm Courts.
"I hate to end our lovely conversation, but my mother and I are having lunch in the Palm Courts right now," I said to him once we reached the lifts.
"No problem," he said casually, "may I lead you there?" We stepped into the middle lift.
"A deck, please," I told the operator. Turning to Rob, I said: "Yes, please." I couldn't hide the smile on my face, or the pure delight that I felt. This voyage has been so good for me. On the A deck covered promenade, on our way to the Palm Courts, Rob's mother stopped us.
"Well, Robert, I see you've made a new friend," she said kindly, smiling at me.
"Mother, I'd like you to meet Isabelle Martin," Rob said proudly, "We literally ran into each other last night."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wellington," I said.
"My pleasure, dear," she replied, "I'm sorry to have to steal him away from you, dear, but Robert, we are meeting the Carters in the reception room."
Rob nodded, and then looked to me.
"I'll see you at dinner, then?" he asked.
"Sure, you just might," I said, and watched them walk away. I resumed my route to the Palm Courts, and found Marie and my mother seated at a table with the Countess of Rothes. I took the empty chair and prepared myself for boredom. I saw Molly Brown at a table across the room, and she winked at me, I smiled back. I'd have to tell her at dinner about Rob, if she sits with us.
The Countess began describing the details of the Hockley wedding that Ruth Dewitt Bukator had told her. I don't think Rose is too thrilled with the match, though I've only seen her once, she didn't look too happy. But, it could be about something other than the marriage. I'm glad that my parents don't believe in arranged marriages, otherwise I would be living in pure hell.
I tuned out their voices, and thought of Robert. He was so kind to buy me that drawing. He truly was a friend, and I was glad I had run into him when I did.
"Isabelle," my mother said, bringing me out of my thoughts, "did you enjoy the library?"
"Oh, um, yes, I did," I lied. I was never there that day, I had to have an excuse to leave breakfast and talk with Rob.
"She just loves to read. Her own personal library back in Philadelphia is overwhelming. I wish she would put as much interest in finding a suitable husband," my mother said. It was just like her to talk about me right in front of me. My sister sneered at me. I just blinked at her, and focused on my food for the rest of the meal. It seemed only minutes ago I was eating breakfast, but the time flies when you're having fun with Rob.
After lunch, I retreated to the reading and writing room to write a letter to my friend, Nicole, from New York. I told her of the splendor of the ship, the magnificent Grand staircase, the elaborate dinning hall, and the comfortable staterooms. Of course, I had to tell her about Robert, she would be so jealous, her mother is considering arranging a marriage for her, which I pity her for. She's such a nice girl, surely someone will come along before her mother marries her off to some stuck up jerk.
After I had a steward post the letter for me, I took my small copy of 'Futility' out of my hand bag, found a comfortable chair, and began to read. I was halfway through it when I heard the dinner bugle. Taking note of the page I was on, I put the book back in my bag and went to my room to change for dinner.
Surprisingly, my mother never questioned where I went after lunch.
I walked out into the hallway where I met my sister and my parents.
"You look wonderful, Belle," my father smiled at me as he escorted my mother and me to the Grand staircase.
"Thank you," I smiled back. The dress was long and the corset was stiff, which I've gotten used to, but also grown sick of. I do admit, the dress was stunning. It was a dark green, with sequins, and lace around the square cut neck. It had three quarter length sleeves, with small white gloves. The bottom of the dress was layered, all layers cut parallel to the ground. My mother quickly eyed me to see if I had worn a proper dress.
"You know, Isabelle, Madeline Astor is about your age, and she's already married," my mother said, obviously throwing me some kind of hint.
"Oh, mother, I'm only sixteen. And besides, you had agreed to let me choose the man I want to marry," I said.
"Then why haven't you chosen one yet?" she asked haughtily. I rolled my eyes, then looked to father to settle it.
"Dear, let her be, like she said, she's still young," my father said, quieting my mother some what.
"But she should at least be interested in looking, like Marie," my mother said, smiling over her shoulder at my sister, who put on her 'know-it-all' face. I took a deep breath and let my anger melt away.
That night at dinner, I scanned the spacious dinning saloon for those green eyes, and saw them at a table next to us. We ended up seated so we faced each other, and in between people, we exchanged looks and smiles.
My family and I were dinning with the Strauses, a very nice elderly couple who owned Macy's, one of my favorite stores. Of course, mother ran through every bit of gossip, and the men talked about business and politics, leaving me out of their conversations. The room began to get stuffy, and my head began to slowly spin. I closed my eyes, and took a sip of water, hoping that it would help, but I was wrong. I looked up in Rob's direction, I was met with a concerned look. The room slowly stopped spinning the longer I looked in his eyes, and I smiled reassuringly at him.
"Who are you smiling at?" my mother asked, bringing my attention back to my table.
"Oh, no one," I said, taking another sip of my ice water. I saw my mother scrunch up her nose and frown at me. Suddenly, I felt the need for a nice, warm bubble bath, so I excused my self at nine, and went back up to my room.
"Becky, can you come with me and get a bubble bath ready for me, please?" I asked, unpinning my hair, letting my blonde, wavy locks fall on my shoulders.
"Yes, miss," she said, leaving the room to run a bath for me at the public bath area down the hall. The bath felt so good, calming all of my nerves. I sat and soaked up the steam for about a half an hour, then went back to my room. On my way, my steward, Mark, stopped me in the hall.
"Excuse me, Miss Martin, I have a message for you," he said as he handed me an envelope.
"From whom?" I asked, taking it.
"A tall, brown haired gentleman, miss," he replied.
"Thank you," I said. Robert. That's the only person it could be from.
"Will you be requiring anything, then?" he asked.
"No, thank you, Mark. Good night," I said.
"Good night, miss," he said, continuing on his way.
I walked back to my room, and locked the door. I ripped open the envelope, and pulled out a piece of White Star Line stationary with neat, yet scribbled, handwriting on it.
Belle,
It was nice talking with you today up top, and seeing you at dinner tonight. As you might have saw, Mrs. Brown was sitting with me and my family. She had much to say about you. She said that you are a very intelligent young lady (you don't need a genius to figure that out!) and that you are nothing like your mother and your sister. So you're Daddy's girl, am I right? I hope we can talk in the future.
Yours,
Rob
P.S. My cabin is B63, look me up tomorrow
P.P.S. You were beautiful tonight
My heart melted at the last line, and I felt my cheeks get warm. The first thing I'll do in the morning is go to his cabin.
"Excuse me, but we couldn't help noticing that you carry a sketchbook with you. Do you mind if we take a look at some of your work?" Rob asked politely, while I stood behind him, my face beet red.
He looked up at us, and I knew that he could tell that we weren't third class by the way we were dressed. But, he still spoke to us like we were equal, which caught my attention.
"Oh, no, go ahead," he said with a smile, and handed us his portfolio. We sat down at a near by vacant bench, and I looked out to the sea, and realized that we were anchored off a shore, taking on more passengers from Ireland, I guessed.
In the man's folder, there were many drawings and sketches of people, some of which were nudes of women, and to my surprise, Rob didn't shield my eyes from them as most men would have done. All the drawings were excellently drawn, as if in a dream. The hands and eyes were most expressive, and stood out the most. Rob looked at one particular drawing that wasn't of a person, but the Eiffel Tower.
"Here's your tower, Belle," he said. It was a beautiful drawing, so full of life.
"It's exquisite," I breathed. Rob turned to the man.
"How much for this drawing?" he asked him. The man and I were both surprised by this.
"Ten cents," he said, looking from him to me, and winking at me.
"How about fifteen for bothering you," Rob said, taking out a dime and a nickel. The man's eyes winded.
"Oh, it was no problem at all. By the way, my name is Jack Dawson, and if you're interested in anymore of my work, you know where to find me," he said, accepting the coins. I stood up when Rob did, and took his arm.
"Thank you, Mr. Dawson, you have a wonderful talent," I said, smiling.
"Thank you, miss, and please, if we ever meet again, call me Jack," he said, smiling and waving as we walked back up to the boat deck. Rob and I walked and continued our conversation for a while more.
"He is a very talented man," I said, looking at my drawing.
"Yes, very talented," Rob said, "Good thing I dragged you down there." I laughed, looking into his deep, green eyes.
"Thank you," I said softly, "for the drawing, and for dragging me down there."
"Your welcome."
I lead him to my room, and put the drawing up against the mirror on my vanity, re-pinned my hair, and we continued walking. Looking at my watch, the time reminded me that I had reluctantly agreed to have lunch with my mother and sister in the Palm Courts.
"I hate to end our lovely conversation, but my mother and I are having lunch in the Palm Courts right now," I said to him once we reached the lifts.
"No problem," he said casually, "may I lead you there?" We stepped into the middle lift.
"A deck, please," I told the operator. Turning to Rob, I said: "Yes, please." I couldn't hide the smile on my face, or the pure delight that I felt. This voyage has been so good for me. On the A deck covered promenade, on our way to the Palm Courts, Rob's mother stopped us.
"Well, Robert, I see you've made a new friend," she said kindly, smiling at me.
"Mother, I'd like you to meet Isabelle Martin," Rob said proudly, "We literally ran into each other last night."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wellington," I said.
"My pleasure, dear," she replied, "I'm sorry to have to steal him away from you, dear, but Robert, we are meeting the Carters in the reception room."
Rob nodded, and then looked to me.
"I'll see you at dinner, then?" he asked.
"Sure, you just might," I said, and watched them walk away. I resumed my route to the Palm Courts, and found Marie and my mother seated at a table with the Countess of Rothes. I took the empty chair and prepared myself for boredom. I saw Molly Brown at a table across the room, and she winked at me, I smiled back. I'd have to tell her at dinner about Rob, if she sits with us.
The Countess began describing the details of the Hockley wedding that Ruth Dewitt Bukator had told her. I don't think Rose is too thrilled with the match, though I've only seen her once, she didn't look too happy. But, it could be about something other than the marriage. I'm glad that my parents don't believe in arranged marriages, otherwise I would be living in pure hell.
I tuned out their voices, and thought of Robert. He was so kind to buy me that drawing. He truly was a friend, and I was glad I had run into him when I did.
"Isabelle," my mother said, bringing me out of my thoughts, "did you enjoy the library?"
"Oh, um, yes, I did," I lied. I was never there that day, I had to have an excuse to leave breakfast and talk with Rob.
"She just loves to read. Her own personal library back in Philadelphia is overwhelming. I wish she would put as much interest in finding a suitable husband," my mother said. It was just like her to talk about me right in front of me. My sister sneered at me. I just blinked at her, and focused on my food for the rest of the meal. It seemed only minutes ago I was eating breakfast, but the time flies when you're having fun with Rob.
After lunch, I retreated to the reading and writing room to write a letter to my friend, Nicole, from New York. I told her of the splendor of the ship, the magnificent Grand staircase, the elaborate dinning hall, and the comfortable staterooms. Of course, I had to tell her about Robert, she would be so jealous, her mother is considering arranging a marriage for her, which I pity her for. She's such a nice girl, surely someone will come along before her mother marries her off to some stuck up jerk.
After I had a steward post the letter for me, I took my small copy of 'Futility' out of my hand bag, found a comfortable chair, and began to read. I was halfway through it when I heard the dinner bugle. Taking note of the page I was on, I put the book back in my bag and went to my room to change for dinner.
Surprisingly, my mother never questioned where I went after lunch.
I walked out into the hallway where I met my sister and my parents.
"You look wonderful, Belle," my father smiled at me as he escorted my mother and me to the Grand staircase.
"Thank you," I smiled back. The dress was long and the corset was stiff, which I've gotten used to, but also grown sick of. I do admit, the dress was stunning. It was a dark green, with sequins, and lace around the square cut neck. It had three quarter length sleeves, with small white gloves. The bottom of the dress was layered, all layers cut parallel to the ground. My mother quickly eyed me to see if I had worn a proper dress.
"You know, Isabelle, Madeline Astor is about your age, and she's already married," my mother said, obviously throwing me some kind of hint.
"Oh, mother, I'm only sixteen. And besides, you had agreed to let me choose the man I want to marry," I said.
"Then why haven't you chosen one yet?" she asked haughtily. I rolled my eyes, then looked to father to settle it.
"Dear, let her be, like she said, she's still young," my father said, quieting my mother some what.
"But she should at least be interested in looking, like Marie," my mother said, smiling over her shoulder at my sister, who put on her 'know-it-all' face. I took a deep breath and let my anger melt away.
That night at dinner, I scanned the spacious dinning saloon for those green eyes, and saw them at a table next to us. We ended up seated so we faced each other, and in between people, we exchanged looks and smiles.
My family and I were dinning with the Strauses, a very nice elderly couple who owned Macy's, one of my favorite stores. Of course, mother ran through every bit of gossip, and the men talked about business and politics, leaving me out of their conversations. The room began to get stuffy, and my head began to slowly spin. I closed my eyes, and took a sip of water, hoping that it would help, but I was wrong. I looked up in Rob's direction, I was met with a concerned look. The room slowly stopped spinning the longer I looked in his eyes, and I smiled reassuringly at him.
"Who are you smiling at?" my mother asked, bringing my attention back to my table.
"Oh, no one," I said, taking another sip of my ice water. I saw my mother scrunch up her nose and frown at me. Suddenly, I felt the need for a nice, warm bubble bath, so I excused my self at nine, and went back up to my room.
"Becky, can you come with me and get a bubble bath ready for me, please?" I asked, unpinning my hair, letting my blonde, wavy locks fall on my shoulders.
"Yes, miss," she said, leaving the room to run a bath for me at the public bath area down the hall. The bath felt so good, calming all of my nerves. I sat and soaked up the steam for about a half an hour, then went back to my room. On my way, my steward, Mark, stopped me in the hall.
"Excuse me, Miss Martin, I have a message for you," he said as he handed me an envelope.
"From whom?" I asked, taking it.
"A tall, brown haired gentleman, miss," he replied.
"Thank you," I said. Robert. That's the only person it could be from.
"Will you be requiring anything, then?" he asked.
"No, thank you, Mark. Good night," I said.
"Good night, miss," he said, continuing on his way.
I walked back to my room, and locked the door. I ripped open the envelope, and pulled out a piece of White Star Line stationary with neat, yet scribbled, handwriting on it.
Belle,
It was nice talking with you today up top, and seeing you at dinner tonight. As you might have saw, Mrs. Brown was sitting with me and my family. She had much to say about you. She said that you are a very intelligent young lady (you don't need a genius to figure that out!) and that you are nothing like your mother and your sister. So you're Daddy's girl, am I right? I hope we can talk in the future.
Yours,
Rob
P.S. My cabin is B63, look me up tomorrow
P.P.S. You were beautiful tonight
My heart melted at the last line, and I felt my cheeks get warm. The first thing I'll do in the morning is go to his cabin.