Still Breathing Chapter 3-Destined
"I am telling you, Emma was no ordinary woman!" Thomas defended angrily, his usually placid brown eyes flashing. "Bruce, she was-she was-special. And I swore on her grave I would never remarry".
Bruce Ismay shook his head slightly. He just couldn't understand Thomas Andrews. For all his dealings with the older man he still barely knew him. Thomas was devoted, to be sure, but ever since his wife's death he had thrown himself headlong into his work.
"There's a difference between loving someone and marrying them, Thomas," Bruce laughed.
Thomas bit his tongue, but couldn't restrain himself from landing a punch on Ismay's face. Bruce reeled back, clutching his nose.
"I will never defer Emma's memory just so I could share a night with a common prostitute!" Thomas had lost his head, not realising who he was talking to, but not caring. "I will NOT yield!" He straightened his coat, and walked out.
"Fool," Hissed Ismay.
**************************************************************************** ***** Thomas had been invited to dine at a table filled with rich, arrogant passengers that evening. Amongst them were Ismay, John Jacob Astor and John Travers and his wife. Thomas blinked as he looked to his left and saw the young woman he had noticed seated next to him. Olivia, that was what the other man had called her. He was seated on her left side, and Thomas wondered who he was, a relative, a spouse? Taken aback by this unusual show of curiously, Thomas looked back down to his menu, but not before Olivia had sensed his searching eyes. She stole a glance at him, he was no longer looking at her, which gave her the opportunity to scrutinise him. He was older than her, to be sure, even older than Todd, but very good looking. In fact, as a truth, Olivia could even perhaps admit she found him attractive, with his softly curling hair and delicate features. She could tell instantly from the way he moved and talked that he would be a superb dancer, a charming conversationalist and a wonderful-Olivia blushed as she thought about it-lover.
As the night progressed on, Olivia was given the chance to hear more of the handsome man. He was, she learnt, Thomas Andrews, designer of the Titanic. She heard him talk about art and politics, laugh, and the sounds of his fork scraping his plate and found herself more and more attracted to him. What could make a man as wonderful as this sob openly in public? Even to Olivia's limited social experiences, this was just a thing that a gentlemen would not do.
Thomas leant closer to Olivia and instantly regretted it.A year's worth of love that had been lost was building up inside of him, and he felt a wave of helplessness pass over him-against his promise he had fallen instantly, rapturously and dangerously in love.
He leant a bit closer to her. "Le coup de foudre" he whispered in her ear.
"Excuse me?" Olivia senses were jolted as he leant close to her again.
"It's french for "the lightening strike out of the blue". He glanced around nervously, but everyone else was too involved in a conversation about horse racing to notice them. "I though you would have known that, Olivia"
A shiver passed down her back. "How do you know my name?" She whispered.
"How could I not? Beautiful women like you don't come out of thin air, now do they?" Thomas reminded himself of his promise to his lovely wife Emma. That promise was the only thing stopping him taking possession of her in his heart, the only barrier that could be held over his desire for her.
"I don't speak French," She admitted. "But I'd love to learn,"
Thomas laughed. "But I though all the proper ladies went to Paris," He elaborated. "All of the ones who travel first class, anyway,"
"Well maybe this isn't first class, Mr Andrews. After all, your ship is really too wonderful to be really true."
"I can only think of one wonderful thing about the Titanic, and she's sitting beside me-"Olivia blushed and lowered her eyes, and Thomas smiled and continued, "And I will readily accept that she is too beautiful to be really true,"
They made their excuses, and left together. Todd looked at them suspiciously, but knew that Thomas Andrews was a gentleman, grieving for another woman and no threat to Todd or Olivia, and let them go without embarrassment.
They walked out onto the deck, and Olivia shivered when she felt how close Thomas was to her.
Thomas felt her shiver, and took off his jacket. "Here, you must be cold," He draped it across her, and fought off the urge to leave his arm around her.
They were looking out across the black ocean, when Olivia turned around to face Thomas suddenly. Jolted, Thomas could not take hold of his senses, and leaned in even more closely and kissed her firmly on the lips. Olivia returned it, both throwing their better judgement to the wind. Gradually fear of being spotted by Todd overcame Olivia, and she pulled herself away.
"Thomas, I'm married," Not the whole truth, perhaps, but soon to be and simple to explain.
"That's fortunate." Thomas kissed her again. "So am I"
The last sun gave way to the image of two lovers, destined to love against all odds.
"I am telling you, Emma was no ordinary woman!" Thomas defended angrily, his usually placid brown eyes flashing. "Bruce, she was-she was-special. And I swore on her grave I would never remarry".
Bruce Ismay shook his head slightly. He just couldn't understand Thomas Andrews. For all his dealings with the older man he still barely knew him. Thomas was devoted, to be sure, but ever since his wife's death he had thrown himself headlong into his work.
"There's a difference between loving someone and marrying them, Thomas," Bruce laughed.
Thomas bit his tongue, but couldn't restrain himself from landing a punch on Ismay's face. Bruce reeled back, clutching his nose.
"I will never defer Emma's memory just so I could share a night with a common prostitute!" Thomas had lost his head, not realising who he was talking to, but not caring. "I will NOT yield!" He straightened his coat, and walked out.
"Fool," Hissed Ismay.
**************************************************************************** ***** Thomas had been invited to dine at a table filled with rich, arrogant passengers that evening. Amongst them were Ismay, John Jacob Astor and John Travers and his wife. Thomas blinked as he looked to his left and saw the young woman he had noticed seated next to him. Olivia, that was what the other man had called her. He was seated on her left side, and Thomas wondered who he was, a relative, a spouse? Taken aback by this unusual show of curiously, Thomas looked back down to his menu, but not before Olivia had sensed his searching eyes. She stole a glance at him, he was no longer looking at her, which gave her the opportunity to scrutinise him. He was older than her, to be sure, even older than Todd, but very good looking. In fact, as a truth, Olivia could even perhaps admit she found him attractive, with his softly curling hair and delicate features. She could tell instantly from the way he moved and talked that he would be a superb dancer, a charming conversationalist and a wonderful-Olivia blushed as she thought about it-lover.
As the night progressed on, Olivia was given the chance to hear more of the handsome man. He was, she learnt, Thomas Andrews, designer of the Titanic. She heard him talk about art and politics, laugh, and the sounds of his fork scraping his plate and found herself more and more attracted to him. What could make a man as wonderful as this sob openly in public? Even to Olivia's limited social experiences, this was just a thing that a gentlemen would not do.
Thomas leant closer to Olivia and instantly regretted it.A year's worth of love that had been lost was building up inside of him, and he felt a wave of helplessness pass over him-against his promise he had fallen instantly, rapturously and dangerously in love.
He leant a bit closer to her. "Le coup de foudre" he whispered in her ear.
"Excuse me?" Olivia senses were jolted as he leant close to her again.
"It's french for "the lightening strike out of the blue". He glanced around nervously, but everyone else was too involved in a conversation about horse racing to notice them. "I though you would have known that, Olivia"
A shiver passed down her back. "How do you know my name?" She whispered.
"How could I not? Beautiful women like you don't come out of thin air, now do they?" Thomas reminded himself of his promise to his lovely wife Emma. That promise was the only thing stopping him taking possession of her in his heart, the only barrier that could be held over his desire for her.
"I don't speak French," She admitted. "But I'd love to learn,"
Thomas laughed. "But I though all the proper ladies went to Paris," He elaborated. "All of the ones who travel first class, anyway,"
"Well maybe this isn't first class, Mr Andrews. After all, your ship is really too wonderful to be really true."
"I can only think of one wonderful thing about the Titanic, and she's sitting beside me-"Olivia blushed and lowered her eyes, and Thomas smiled and continued, "And I will readily accept that she is too beautiful to be really true,"
They made their excuses, and left together. Todd looked at them suspiciously, but knew that Thomas Andrews was a gentleman, grieving for another woman and no threat to Todd or Olivia, and let them go without embarrassment.
They walked out onto the deck, and Olivia shivered when she felt how close Thomas was to her.
Thomas felt her shiver, and took off his jacket. "Here, you must be cold," He draped it across her, and fought off the urge to leave his arm around her.
They were looking out across the black ocean, when Olivia turned around to face Thomas suddenly. Jolted, Thomas could not take hold of his senses, and leaned in even more closely and kissed her firmly on the lips. Olivia returned it, both throwing their better judgement to the wind. Gradually fear of being spotted by Todd overcame Olivia, and she pulled herself away.
"Thomas, I'm married," Not the whole truth, perhaps, but soon to be and simple to explain.
"That's fortunate." Thomas kissed her again. "So am I"
The last sun gave way to the image of two lovers, destined to love against all odds.