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Chapter nineteen:
As the Heart of the Ocean was nestled within Jack's palm, he was suddenly aware of the kind of wealth Caledon Hockley had. Perhaps there should have been a jolt of awareness, or jealousy but there was nothing there at all which sprang to the forefront of his mind.
''It's nice. Is it a sapphire?''
''No, it is a diamond. A very rare diamond. It was worn by Louis the Sixteenth."
"The Heart of the Ocean," Jack furrowed his brow.
Examining the piece, it glittered beautifully beneath the lamp of Rose's private deck. The skies had darkened some time before leaving a trail of stars and a clear glassy sky which met the endlessly calm ocean. It was like a deep reflection, as though a mirror had been placed somewhere between the two on the horizon.
"Are you familiar with the story?"
"Yes, and it was chopped from the piece he wore as a crown." Jack's eyes sparkled in the light, almost as blue as the stone and more transfixing to witness than any jewel could be. ''About the same time that he was beheaded.''
''Yes.'' Rose smiled, recalling the tale.
''And this is your prize, is it?''
''Yes.'' Rose pitifully laughed, ''the night that we met he presented it to me, as a means to end my melancholy and one assumes to tempt me into his bed.''
Through a shaft of light which slipped through the glass, Rose was witness to quite a murderous expression, one should have been terrified but instead, it stirred her stomach.
''Tell me of Cal, what led to this rivalry between the two of you?'' Rose pressed her curiously, only having heard scandalous gossip of the supposed feud so far.
''It was his father. There was always trouble with Nathan Hockley. I think his son just followed his footsteps, typically...''
''The necklace was bought in Paris using his father's name of credit. I saw amongst some files in the safe.'' Rose gazed out at the sea as they stood at the rail of her private deck. It felt almost safe here, as though they were the only two in existence and yet, Hockley or his manservant could return at any given moment to break their peace.
''The name could buy anything he ever wanted.'' Jack snapped. ''He was at Harvard with my uncle. I believe at one point they were friends; both were intelligent and literate where as my own father would chop wood for entertainment.'' A line formed between his brows. ''Hockley built his empire just as Eric did his, and the rivalry started as most others probably did but soon there would be bad publicity, stealing of shares and such. Eric never went into it too much but I saw that it had hurt him. Cal, naturally had a hatred for the Dawson's because for the past few years the industry has boomed and yet his own company seemed to have stalled but that isn't public knowledge. The name itself could buy anything for its worth has plenty. Hockley begs, lies and steals to make his way to the top of the ladder and when another has success then he will do what he can to watch you fall.''
''But Dawson Steel never fell?''
''Not ever that I know of. Nathan tried to purchase shares in the place once or twice, but the buyers never allowed their stock to slip through their fingers, and since the White Star Line purchased the steel for their very own latest fleets then that was possibly the bitterest thing for Hockley.''
''So, its jealousy?''
''Perhaps, and the fact that I am not one of you. I will never be seen as a member of society and for that I am glad.'' Jack found her gaze. ''Perhaps it is because he is slowly burdened with debts himself, which was why I am surprised he was able to become engaged to you and willingly clear your father's debt—or claim to be willing to.''
''I think he was hoping that the joining of names could settle the matters itself.'' Rose watched him, slowly. ''My family name is prominent in Philadelphia, as is his own, together, power can overcome most boundaries.''
''Yes, it can, in ways I hope that you never witness.'' Jack tilted his head to study her. ''There is something that you should know, before anything.''
''What is it?''
''I don't intend to stay in Boston when I return. I am tired of living via other people's rules.''
''Where will you go?''
''To the world. To find freedom. I was always so sure of my path in life, but then, I am witness to your misery in this trap and I have tirelessly told you to escape the bounds of society and yet I wouldn't have escaped them myself. I felt a hypocrite."
Anger and consternation ran through Rose even though she had no right to him. With no idea what to do or say, it didn't seem appropriate to object. To question him. Just when there had been a possible affinity for a future based purely on one or two kisses and an obvious jest of marriage.
''Well, your intentions do seem to be quite clear." Frowning Rose had turned her back to him, and the chill of the evening drew in through the glass of the open private promenade deck. Back against the wall were two cane chairs and Jack turned to stare at her intently.
''Do they?''
Colour came to Rose's cheeks; he saw despite the darkness. The Heart of the Ocean still within in his fingers, he dropped it into her lap and started for the interiors of the ship. She followed him indoors.
''Well, yes, you said out on the bow that I shouldn't be your mistress but your wife.''
Facing the fractured face of a man who was possibly used to taking liberties to lure in young French girls just to spit them out ruined and savaged, Rose slammed the necklace upon the writing desk and started for her room, startling him with the ferocity of her walk before he grasped onto her tightly with both hands just as she had opened the door and they almost tumbled through the wooden door into a bedroom decorated in such dark burgundy and wooden panelling that it was almost pitch black.
Hurt and outraged, Rose struggled so violently that he was forced to release her. "I've had enough of you and your tasteless, insensitive humour," she cried. "You-you—"
"I'm not joking, damn it!" Jack stood and reached for her, and she hopped backward, and he grabbed, and she flailed. They grappled until Rose found herself tumbling backward onto the bed. Jack fell over her in a controlled descent— a pounce, really. She felt him sinking into the mass of skirts, his superior weight urging her legs apart, the muscular mass of his torso pinning her down. She writhed in distress as excitement went skimming and tickling all through her. The more she wriggled, the worse it became. She subsided beneath him, while her hands kept opening and closing on nothing. Jack stared down at her, eyes dancing with mischief . . . but there was something else in his expression, a purposefulness, that unsettled her profoundly.
''Why should I lie about such a thing like marriage?''
''Because we both know that I am engaged to be married to a man that I-''
''Don't say love, we both know you detest his very existence.''
Glancing up at the madman above her, he was beautiful in his sincere fight until she realised she was the one who was utterly breathless and there was no shred of doubt in his face to indicate lies. Not one. Now, she should have been terrified.
"Consider it, Rose. Marrying me would solve both our problems. You would have the protection of my name. You wouldn't have to marry Hockley. And they couldn't bother me to get married any longer."
"I was born into one of the wealthiest families in Philadelphia," she said distinctly, as if he were a foreigner trying to learn English. ''You're new money...''
"And that would bother you?"
"Well, no...''
"I would take care of you, there would be none of this damned society balls, no rules, nothing. Just us."
"That doesn't matter. If you married me, it would be scandalous and inappropriate, and doors would be closed to you."
"Good God, woman. Those doors have already been closed, bolted, and nailed shut. How could I preach to you so madly to end your own misery when I have failed to do so myself and I am living as my uncle wishes and not myself."
Rose couldn't think clearly, could scarcely hear him through the pounding in her ears, the wild clamour of her blood. Will and desire pulled at her with equal force. Turning her face away as mouth descended, she said desperately, "The only way you could be certain of keeping the snakes at bay is to marry another, someone such as Miss. Davin, an heiress, perhaps one who would enjoy the freedom and to dine with peers-."
Jack gave a derisive snort.
"It's also the only way I could be certain of committing sororicide."
"Of what?" she asked in bewilderment.
"Sororicide. Killing one's wife."
"No, you mean to say 'uxoricide."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, uxor is the Latin word for 'wife.''
"Then what's 'sororicide'?"
"Killing one's sister."
"Oh, well, if I had to marry Miss Darvin, I'd probably end up killing anyone who even comes to my attention." Jack grinned down at her. "The point is, I could never have this kind of conversation with her. With any other." He was probably right. Rose had lived with the suppression of her own for far too long, yet with Jack, slipping into the verbal detours that could start one talking about the increasing problem of the Thames River pollution, women's suffrage and end up debating the question of whether or not the Earl of Sandwich had actually invented sandwiches. Rose restrained a miserable laugh as she realised that although she might have a slight civilising influence on Jack, his influence on her had been much greater. Jack's head lowered, and he kissed the side of her neck with a slow deliberation that made her squirm. Clearly, he had lost interest in the subject of Miss Darvin.
"Give in, Rose. Say you'll marry me."
"What if I couldn't give you a son?"
''What?' Jack pulled back, his hair tumbling into his eyes. ''A son?''
"There are never guarantees." Rose stumbled, ''I-I don't know too much of child b-bearing, or conception for that matter, but I do believe that it could either be a son or a daughter, there are no guarantees. If you did need an heir for the family name to continue and the Dawson steel estate to continue—"
As though his entire body had been burned from head to toe, Jack couldn't understand, he was discussing the matters of conceiving a child whilst laid fully clothes atop Rose DeWitt Bukater on her bed. Children were not even in his thoughts; it would be almost like a business transaction but with two people who liked each other. How could he make her see that? Damn her innocent mind. There was no need to think of children or heirs but then the thought had sent his world spiralling. A new seriousness infused his expression. "Rose, I do not care one bit for children. I wish for freedom, happiness and fun. We like each other, we respect each other, and God knows I am infatuated with you.''
A sound escaped her mouth which Rose tried to conceal but was unable to. Infatuated.
''So, you're intentions-''
''Would be honourable.''
The front of her bodice had gone loose. She realised that he had been unbuttoning her as they had been talking. She moved to stop him, but he had already managed to spread the front of her bodice open, revealing her corset and chemise. "Therefore, the only thing you'll be responsible for," Jack said huskily, "is agreeing to be my wife and untangling yourself from your current engagement. That is if you wish for it." As Rose turned her face away gasping, he went to whisper in her ear. "I am hoping that you agree."
"You are the most absurd— oh, please don't do that." He was investigating her ear with the tip of his tongue, a silky-wet tickle. Paying no attention to her protests, he kissed and licked his way along the taut arch of her neck. "Jack," she moaned, but he took her panting mouth with his, and let his tongue play there as well, and the sensation and taste and smell of him made her feel drunk. Her arms groped around his neck, and she surrendered with a weak moan. After her mouth had been teased, searched, and thoroughly ravished, Jack lifted his head and stared into her dazed eyes.
"Do you feel nervous?" he asked thickly. "I won't wish for you to make love until you feel ready to."
Rose was dismayed to hear herself giggle in witless amusement.
"No doubt you're good at that."
"I don't know, perhaps so," he assured her. "The only way is for me to find out what you like best, and then let you have only a little of it. I'll torment you until you're absolutely miserable."
"That doesn't sound at all pleasant.''
"You think not? Then you'll be surprised when you ask for me to repeat it over."
Rose couldn't hold back another helpless giggle. Then they were both motionless, flushed, staring at each other intently. She heard herself whisper, "I'm afraid."
"I know, darling," Jack said gently. "But you'll have to trust me, because I am afraid too."
"Why?"
"Because I have feelings. I never have that."
''You-you love me?''
Jack's breathe held and then exhaled. ''No, but perhaps I might grow to, in time. If there is such thing as love coming into a marriage.''
''So, it would be for convenience to marry you?''
''At first, yes. For us both.''
''But you would still expect me to perform duties to you as a wife should? Like making love?''
''When you felt ready to,'' Jack held her gaze. ''I would never ask that of you until then.''
''But I believe that it has to be on the evening of the exchanging of vows or the marriage is void.''
''Traditionally, some don't wait, some take longer.''
Their gazes held. Rose was paralysed. What he asked was impossible. To give herself over entirely to a man, to anyone, was anathema to her very nature. Therefore, it should have been easy to refuse him. Except that when she tried to form the word "no," she couldn't produce a sound.
''What about Cal?''
''We can face him together. Your mother, too.''
''But my family, my mother, her situation is precarious.''
''How much are the debts?''
Rose gazed off, realising how very little she knew of the severity of her situation. ''I don't know.''
''I can repay them if it is within my power to.''
''No, that would be-''
''As your husband, I would provide, for now. If you wished to seek employment in future, then so be it, for your own enjoyment.''
Rose pulled back. ''I have no skills.''
''You gain them. I can show you the basics, then we can learn the rest together. I see you as a dancer, or a painter.''
Rose's chest tightened as she tried to laugh aloud, as this suddenly seemed as though it was a dream beyond anything more than the most ridiculous tale she had ever heard. Scandal, that's what it would be. Even if Jack could repay the debts, wouldn't her mother be cast aside for her daughter's reckless behaviour in marrying a near stranger.
''You. Are. Crazy.'' Rose tried to fight her way to a sitting position, but he caught her hands and held her down, pinned with his own fingers in her palms. ''Am I just another woman to you, do you seriously expect me to believe this absurdity. The women that you must have scorned across France have left you limited of options?''
''Do you truly believe the gossips?''
''It's hard to not, when one hears it so often, of how you seduced your way across Europe and left them heartbroken and-''
''There have been five women. All one-night affairs. None of them French ladies.'' Jack exhaled his frustrations. ''I never had a woman until less than two years ago, and never, ever have I had a shred of attachment, not even in the most intimate moments with them have I felt an ounce of what I had just kissing you.''
The empty, hollow hole in his stomach seemed to fill for the first time in so long that it burned him. He had never felt that before. It was settling and yet, so unsettling at the very same time. It was warm...
His hand was set on her shoulder as he noticed that he was touching her bare skin there.
''I am the son of two farm hands who fell in love at sixteen years old. I am nothing to anybody other than the people who wish to purchase the steel from the business my uncle Eric poured his entire life into.''
''So, that's why you are here, amongst society and living this life as an imposter?'' Rose felt the small doubts disappear.
''In part but I am just a novelty to them. Perhaps as most look at Molly.'' Jack gazed so intently down at her, that she shivered. ''I only care of your opinion.''
''You said that you must stay away from me.'' She felt the doubt of what he had said to her previously come to her mind. ''Why the change now?''
He smiled, beautifully, cocking his head to the left as he examined her worry. ''I changed my mind. I am no better for you than I am without you and I think together we could erase some of the misery caused by this damned world in which we exist."
''If I agree, it is to something I have no knowledge of."
Jack got to his feet, his powerful stance overwhelming her as he helped her to stand too. She feared her own feet would buckle beneath her as she managed to support her own weight.
''If you agree, I will never let you go. I will try to love you, be yours for the rest of our lives. Protect your life with my own. I will be fully faithful; another woman would never be even in my line of sight if I had you with me.''
The physical response she had to his words was so violent, it took her by surprise. Tilting his head, he lowered his mouth to hers. The approach was slow and without force. She stumbled back, panting because she couldn't breathe because he was so close. He watched as she retreated, nearly beyond arms reach when he caught her back. His lips sealed over hers with a boldness that stole what was left of her air. She sagged into him, unable to comprehend the ardour with which he kissed her. His body was hard, tall and protective. Of her.
Where could she touch him? His hands at her nape following the length of her arms down to her wrist. He circled it, then lifted her hand to his chest. Between his coat and waistcoat, he urged her palm to splay over his heart. His skin burned through the layers of clothing between them. His heart beat with the same recklessness as hers. Her other hand clenched the hem of his coat as she whimpered, overwhelmed from the intensity.
The press of his lips softened, and his grip slackened enough to allow her lungs to expand. Teasing rather than taking, he licked at the lower curve of her lip, goading him to taste her back. She did tremble, uncertain.
The clock on the mantel began to chime on the hour, but Rose was so lost to the time. To everything about her. Her hand moved across Jack's torso, feeling the muscles tense beneath her touch. A sound escaped her. He stopped his kiss, pulling away slowly.
''I want you to draw me.'' Rose surprised herself with the intensity of her words. How much she wanted it. ''Like one of your French girls. I want you to draw me, just like the drawing Cal wished to have commissioned of me.''
''I thought he was joking.''
''Perhaps he was, but I wish it.''
Jack nodded. ''All right.''
''And I wish to wear the Heart of the Ocean for the first and final time.''
''Yes.''
''But I only wish to be wearing the necklace and nothing else.'' Rose heard his breathe hitch there. His eyes searched hers, wordlessly for the truth. In the dim light, there was even an heir of his own innocence as his lips lowered to draw in his own breath and she smiled, as her response and it spoke absolute volumes; trust, truth and silent acknowledgment that it was what she wanted.
Jack began to undress her, pulling the gown away in rustling armfuls. And Rose let him. She helped him, loosening laces with shaking hands, lifting her hips, tugging her arms free. He unhooked her corset deftly, betraying easy familiarity with women's unmentionables. He was in no hurry, however. He was slow and deliberate as he removed the protective layers one by one. Finally, Rose was covered in nothing more than a blush, her pale skin scored with temporary marks left by the edges of the corset and the seams of her clothes. Jack's hand descended to her midriff, fingertips moving sensitively along the faint lines like a traveller mapping unexplored territory. His expression was absorbed, tender, as his palm skimmed over her stomach...
''I will wait in the sitting room, if I sit in here any longer then your innocence would be gone before I have even had the chance to kiss you.''
And, she was breathless.