Chapter 2

Sundays were the perfect setting for a family day. It was tradition for the DeWitt Bukaters to take a long stroll around the city and remind everyone how perfect their household looked. Rose despised the occasion and remained always inside her room for as long as possible, usually skipping their communal breakfast. Today she was joined by her little brother Edward. He sat on the edge of her bed and admired the scrabbling of his sister. Whenever she had the time, she was always writing something down, reading the latest newspaper or tried to make an attempt to create a good-looking painting. She was always busy and occupying her mind, afraid she would fall behind in life if she didn't catch up with the modern ways of the world. Edward wanted to be just like her when he grew up. Barely a day older than twelve, he had only his sisters as his examples on how to be a well brought up Edwardian young adult. The children did not see their father much for he was always locked away inside his office or traveling for business. Violet turned mostly to their mother and their mother turned mostly towards her oldest child, leaving the other two to look after one another. Edward was scared to admit it, but he often felt lonely.

Unannounced, Ruth burst into Rose's room, ordered her to sit behind her vanity and checked every inch of her skin and dress. She took the comb off the dresser and brushed her wild red curls, pulling her locks up in a sophisticated hairstyle. Rose shrieked in pain and pulled away from her mother. "I don't need to go bald." She complained. Ruth had taught herself not to give in to her daughter's constant protests and simply patted her shoulder like a comrade and ordered her youngest children to gather down in the hall. Of course, Violet was already waiting and gently watched how Trudy, their maid, carefully put on her gloves. Then she turned, saw how her siblings ran down the stairs like maniacs and rolled her eyes.

"Please, if you behave like that in public," She scolded them, "Our family will be seen as nothing but a laughing stock. Don't they teach you any manners in school, Rose?"

"No, but they do teach me how not to be judgemental." She placed her notebook inside of her purse and faked a perfect decent smile before Ruth came to join them. The door opened and they were greeted by the softness of March sunshine. Spring, the most fertile season of all. Where animals declared their love to one another and people decided to take their puppet shows outside. It was the start of live theatre, where the upper classes looked and wanted to be looked at. It was the season of happiness, or at least everyone was surprisingly good at pretending. The ladies placed their hats onto their carefully structured up dos and it was time to set foot on the stage. Edward took hold of Rose's arm and they followed their family to the park. All the women looked radiant in their freshly made garments. You could tell who had just come back from Europe and flaunted their Parisian frocks by walking in a stranger motion than usual. Rose sighed at the silence around her and felt a quick pinch in her skin from Edward's hands. He signed her to keep quiet. She was often taken aback by how more well behaved he was than herself. In front of them Violet and Ruth were discussing the latest social event which was set for next weekend. Rose had refused to join them and it was accepted until her mother found out about the attendance of Reginald Horace. Ruth had never cared about that family and even made a remark on their unusual facial structures in a way that ought to be illegal. It was only until she heard what fortune they possessed, she didn't seem to mind no more. Now Rose had to come along to be shown off like a prize everyone wanted to win. "It is like a chain reaction, Rose." He mother would often explain, "The more attention you get from one person to more attention you'll get from others. You'll have a whole collection to choose from in the end." The thought of it made the young woman sick to her stomach. As if the concept of love and marriage was nothing more than a beefcake parade. Rose had early on in life decided that she did not want to end up like her parents. The lack of connection and barely a single form of respect for the person as an individual. The world had more to offer than that.

In the distance, someone started to wave their hand up in the air and the Bukaters looked up out of curiosity. A familiar voice called their names and when they moved closer. Rose smiled, waved back and wriggled herself out of the group. She rushed forward and flew herself into the arms of Wendy, her dearest friend. She hadn't seen her in over a month for Wendy was on a trip to visit her aunt in London. They were back earlier than she had expected and she was overjoyed with the surprise.

"I thought you wouldn't be back until April." Rose squeaked into the open air.

Wendy placed a kiss on Rose's cheek. "That was the idea, but Harriet got ill so we had to return home early."

"Oh God, I hope she is doing all right." Rose then greeted her parents who had caught up with their daughter and soon felt the presence of her family behind there too. Mr. DeWitt Bukater and Mr. Jones did go all the way back to their Harvard days, but soon went their separate ways once graduated. It was their daughters who had brought them in contact again, but they kept their companionship at a safe distance.

"She is doing much better, but she still has to regain her strength. Another thing now I see you in person is that I wanted to ask you to accompany me to father's business dinner on Wednesday. Now my sister cannot join us, I am in terrible need of a companion to pass the time." Wendy was still holding her hand and they both turned to meet Rose's father's eye, hoping for an approval. He gave a quick nod, his way to say yes without having to say anything at all.

...

There was barely a single woman in the whole restaurant. The room was filled with black evening suits and faces with mustaches one bigger than the other. Rose had been here often for birthday celebrations and other occasions and the thought of the delicious taste of meals made her able to combat the upcoming tiring conversations. Wendy was escorting her through the area. Having been introduced to everyone, most of whom she vaguely recalled from other events, they were ready to take their seats. Her friend blended in perfectly with her charming appearance and well spoken words. It made her realize where her father's distant behavior towards his old friend came form. Mr. DeWitt Bukater thought of Mr. Jones as a master of upbringing. With Harriet already married at the age of seventeen and having three children before the age of twenty five. He was simply jealous.

"You can sit on that side, girls." Mrs. Jones pointed towards the head of the table, "You'll be able to engage in conversation, yet still have a form of privacy." Rose smiled brightly and thanked Wendy's mother greatly. The carved relievo in the wooden chair slightly poked in her skin as Rose leaned her back against it. The waiter immediately came up to them and poured a royal glass of burgundy red wine. The color of the drink stained her lips in the most perfect red tint. She licked it away, feeling the alcohol tintle on her tongue.

"I wouldn't have survived this by myself." Wendy said and they scanned the company once more. There were more people than she had thought. Twenty men and perhaps five women, themselves included. Their corner was their save space. A place that if they smiled just enough, they could be admired properly. A sudden burst of loud laughter made Rose jump. Someone slapped his hand on something hard and it was followed by more hilarity. Annoyed she turned her face and came in contact with a small group of young men. Her eyes stayed focused for she saw an acquainted face. Again, his blonde hair was brushed back so smooth it almost didn't look real. And it was the same tone of voice that chatted perhaps a bit too loud.

"Oh Jackie, please. In the end it won't be as horrible as you think it is." One of the others told him. Jack Dawson chucked down the remaining bit of eau-de-vie that was left in his glass and ordered another one. He shook his head heavily. "It will be my life long curse, gentlemen. I was not made for marriage or any from of commitment. Can you imagine me coming home from a long day and being able to handle any more complaining from a woman who has had nothing to do all day but embroider cushions and keep up with the latest nonsense of gossip?"

"That's why you have to bed her as much as possible in the beginning. Once there is a child she'll have something to occupy herself with."

Jack groaned "But first I have to go through this whole roulette of courting every possible debutante in whole the East Coast. I'll be burned out before I even get married."

"We'll help you, Dawson." Another one of his companionships interfered, "We'll make a list of the ten most eligibles. You'll be done before you know it."

He nodded his head and slightly agreed with his friend's plan. "She must count herself lucky to be seen as a member of the Dawsons. I hope whomever she might be, she'll realize that."

Rose put her cutlery down and almost felt her food come up. Apparently she was the only one aware of this disgusting situation. She wanted to distance herself, but their voice burst through her mind like canons. It was a rage so strong that she wanted to stand up and flip the table over. It was another confirmation why Rose never intended to marry herself. She'd rather live her life alone and content than be ridiculed by someone and simply been seen as nothing but breeding stock. For her friend's sake she managed to remain dignified. Two hours passed and luckily it was almost time to go. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the men leave one by one until it was Mr. Dawson who slowly walked past their table and headed towards the patio. Rose followed his movements, then looked at her friend and sighed.

"Are you alright, Rose?" Wendy asked concerned.

"I am afraid I am not feeling well. It is so hot in here."

"Oh gosh. Do you need fresh air?"

"I think so, but I don't want to disrespect you father's clients.

"I think it would be more disrespectful if you fainted right her and now," Wendy placed a hand gentle on her shoulder, "You do look awfully pale, Rose. Go. Take some refreshment. I will sort it out with my parents." Before Rose knew it she was outside.

There he was again, like the other night when he had caught her in the darkness, it was now she who had caught him alone. The soft wind blew his hair out of place and he struggled to light his cigar. For a moment she wanted to turn back and ignore her impulsive desire to fight him. A server suddenly stopped behind her, offered her a glass of champagne and she quickly declined. The sound of her voice had caught the man's attention and he searched for where it was coming from. Behind him, there she stood with her arms crossed. He smiled. "I thought I recognized you at that table, miss. Did you enjoy your dinner?"

"Not really. I unfortunately lost all of appetite when I heard your belittled opinions on females. She must count herself lucky to be seen as a member of the Dawsons." The mocking of his voice faded his grin. He cleared his throat and straightened his back.

"You've become very cheeky, miss. Eavesdropping like it's the most common thing to do. I thought you were more well mannered than that."

"And you have turned back into a pumpkin, I see. Lost all of your charm when returned from the ball. I thought you were less rude than that."

"But you did find me charming."

Rose rolled her eyes. The arrogance in his eyes and speech made her feel more nauseous than she already was. "Don't flatter yourself, sir. I don't find anything charming about men who project their own insecurities onto their demands about how women should behave in order to be dignified."

He tossed his cigar onto the floor and stepped closer towards her. Her words had turned him furious. "Listen, miss. You believe to be a whole lot with your own view of the world, but you are foolish. Perhaps not as foolish as the people who want anything to do with the likes of you. Your childish behaviour is nothing but pathetic." His eyes burned into her skin like a hell fire, yet she was not frightened. In fact, a laugh escaped her lips. She had wall build around her, so high and strong, that it would take a whole battalion to even break off one brick. Lifting her head high, her smile remained and she took a deep breath. "I feel sorry for you, Mr. Dawson. To wake up every single day and live with such bitterness inside of you."

"Get out of my sight at once." He demanded. Rose scoffed and lowered her own voice to get on his level. "This is a public place, sir. You didn't seem to mind for the whole restaurant to hear your opinion on the opposite sex. But don't worry, I can't stand to be in your presence for one second longer." Her dress moved after her in a perfect motion as she turned her back towards him. She could hear his heavy breathing followed by the marching of of his footsteps. This encounter didn't come as a total surprise to Rose. His view on the world suited his arrogant attitude and his despicable manners. It wasn't the first time she'd heard men express their desires so bluntly in the open. Rose had never seen such a woman, nor read it in any novel. It was the fixation of men on imperial beauty that was more worrying to her than the women who were in fact trying to achieve it. A task thus impossible that it made most of them go crazy. If Rose ever wished to marry, a situation almost unimaginable, she hoped to only have sons to put them in their places and teach them what the world was really like. They needed to earn their respect and not impose it on the inferiors. Wendy was waiting on the top of the stairs and raised an eyebrow at her friend. She was already wearing her outerwear and was holding Rose's long pink coat.

"You look like you've been defeated by the devil," A worried look was plastered on her face, "You're not mad I asked you to accompany me tonight, are you?"

She shook her head heavily. "Oh no, of course not. I just had the most infuriating conversation with someone. Why is it that every single man I ever come across with has to be denigrating towards women? What on earth have we done to them to make them believe we are nothing but useless objects?"

Wendy pulled her confidante closer towards her and moved her away from the crowd. She loved her friend's free minded spirit, but it also made her frightened at times. Wendy was more of a discreet character and not as outspoken as young miss DeWitt Bukater. Upper Class occupations as yachts, cotillions or polo matches made her content. She preferred the way everything was set out and secured for her. It made her feel at ease. Yet, the fire and passion in Rose's eyes was nothing but to be admired and at times she wished she contained that form of strength. She didn't know that on the other end it was Rose who envied her serenity, the infinite calmness compared to the neverending rage she held within her own body. Her mind was a continues storm. Wendy turned her body and slowly moved Rose in the corner of the grand wardrobe.

"Please try to keep your voice down, Rose. This is a very important evening for my father."

Rose looked over her shoulder, then back at her friend and nodded her head. "I am sorry you are right. I am just so outraged."

"You always have something to be outraged about," Wendy giggled, "Who is this man anyway?"

"His name is Jack Dawson. One of those sons of that oil magnet from Boston. He was sitting at the table behind us. He was speaking so loud that I couldn't help but listen to his conversation about his ridiculous views on holy matrimony." She took a deep breath and the beating of her heart was starting to calm down.

"I know who he is. Everyone knows it. In fact, rumours have been going around that he is looking for wife."

Rose snorted in disgust and laughed. "My goodness, I wish any woman who wants to spend the rest of her life with that man all the luck in the world. I already feel sorry for her for that matter."

Nothing was said between them after that remark and Wendy returned back to her parents. It was an opinion she was afraid to speak into the openness. The moment she heard Boston's most eligible bachelor was ready to devote the rest of his life to someone, her heart skipped a beat. She had seen him not many times, but everytime she did, he beheld a form of radiance that sparked every bit of curiosity within her. She almost even weeped for him when news came out of the passing of his elder brother. People had said that it had changed him in a way, but not for the better. Wendy wanted nothing but to take her chance to catch his eye. However, the dullness of her being was overshadowed by almost all the young women in the city. Any man would only dance with her if she was the last one standing and even then their conversations would be forced and nothing out of interest. Still, she had hope that, for her too, there was love waiting around the corner. Like her sister, who was settled and satisfied with the life she was living, happiness was awaiting for her.

"I apologize for me leaving the table," Wendy heard Rose apologize to her parents. Mrs. Jones gave her a reassuring smile and guided her back towards the entrance. "It is quite all right, Rose. To be fair I wish I could join you for a second. Now close your coat tightly, it's rather chilly tonight."