Chapter 4
Grabbing the bouquet of flowers which he had tucked underneath his arms, he placed it in front of him like a bride heading towards the altar. Rose remained standing, stuck to the ground like a statue. There it was again, the same sense of disgust she felt as the night before. His arrogant look made her hands tingle, and if she were strong and big enough she believed she would have fought him right here and now. Jack cleared his throat. "Good morning, miss DeWitt Bukater."
"I believe those are for my sister?" She nodded her head to the bunch of pink dahlias.
"No they are actually for you." Rose's eyes widened as she heard the sentence being spoken out loud so bluntly. Then he laughed in the most mocking manner. "Of course they are for your sister."
"Well I am afraid to disappoint you, Mr. Dawson, but Violet is not at home at the moment." She stepped towards him, placed her hand and back of his shoulder and guided him towards his car which was standing on the opposite side of the road. "I will tell her you came by. Now, I wish you a very pleasant trip back to Boston." The sound of the door opening behind them caught them both by surprise. Jack turned around and was greeted by Ruth who came rushing down the path of the front yard. Rose sighed and bit her lip before facing her mother as well. Ruth's eyes were full of both surprise and joy and she quickly fixed her pinned up hair as if she were trying to make an impression on her own beau.
"Mr. Dawson, what a pleasant surprise to see you on this fine morning."
"And you Mrs. DeWitt Bukater. I've come to thank miss DeWitt Bukater for the good company she offered me last night and wanted to give her these." He lifted the flowers up in the air. He seemed awfully proud of his choice in blossoms. A choice he most certainly had not made himself, Rose thought. She rolled her eyes at the pitifulness of his actions and moved away from the two. Then, her mother stopped her in her tracks and ordered her to bring their guest to the drawing room.
"I have an appointment, mother." She protested, crossing her arms like a little child.
"I do not care if you are going to see the queen of England, Rose. You will show Mr. Dawson the drawing room whilst I go get Violet."
Then they were alone like they had been before. The large clock, which belonged to her great-grandfather, ticked away the time, filling their uncomfortable silence with its heavy antique sound. She pointed at the couch in front of her where she wanted him to sit down for his hasty footsteps made her feel restless. Jack placed his hands behind him and moved his eyes across every ridge, corner and object in the space like a priest judging the actions of a religious follower.
"You have an adorable little house, miss DeWitt Bukater." He then said, denigrating her in the most subtle way. Rose scoffed and plopped inside of her chair. "Adorable and little. Please, Mr. Dawson, if you want to offend me, you must come up with something more original."
"My remark was truly honest, miss. I do not wish to insult you in anyway." Finally, he sat down. "The grandness of homes or places has such an in impact on their atmosphere, don't you think, miss DeWitt Bukater? Yours might be on the smaller side, but it makes it more intimate." She did not respond directly to his words that wanted to make her feel oppressed. Like any other man of their social status he tried to colonise everywhere he placed his feet on. It was all they could ever talk about; power and possession. Rose suddenly started to laugh, which caught the man slightly by surprise.
"Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Dawson?" She asked and he nodded his head, "have you ever read any of his books"
"No I haven't. I believe his outlook on the world doesn't quite lay on the level of my interests."
"Hearing the way you speak of things, sir, I must believe it to be otherwise. Perhaps you should read some of his work, because his ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you." Taken aback by her insulting words, he forcefully brushed his hands through his golden locks. The mischievous grin that was now plastered on the girl's face made his blood boil to the very core of his being. It was the biggest torment possible to be alone with this unwell behaved young woman and his greatest fear when his mother ordered him to pay the family a visit. Alexandra Dawson felt nothing but pure excitement and pride towards her son when they returned home from the dance. She believed him to have finally seen the severity of the situation and burst through his room in the early hours of the morning. She didn't sleep a wink that night. The image of two powerful families bonding as one played out in front of her, lightening up the darkness of the twilight. Jack groaned in pure annoyance when his mother shook him back to his consciousness. His head still hurt from the amount of liquor he had consumed and he even believed to sill be intoxicated. Like a schoolboy that was on his way for his first day, Mrs. Dawson pushed him outside of the house with a big bouquet of dahlias, the same flower his father used to bring his mother when they were courting. Now here he was, in front of this ranger who spat her harsh words at him like a bullet. Now his headache grew even heavier.
Heels ticking on the floor were heard in the background. And within seconds they were accompanied by the presence of Violet and her mother. Rose noticed she had quickly changed in one of her new dresses and was even wearing a slight layer of makeup to disguise the exhaustion from last night's events. Jack stood up from the couch and let his eyes roam over her body. In the eyes of society she would be seen as a gemstone. The way she held herself was beyond perfect. Her posture was well held as one of a monarch. Her skin was fair and almost completely clear of any form of imperfection. Like a porcelain doll, Violet DeWitt Bukater carried herself through the world. She couldn't be any different than her sister, who was still slumped down in her fauteuil. Violet radiated the soft light of their society whilst the young Rose was perceived as her shadow. With burning eyes, Ruth signed her to sit up straight.
"I didn't mean to disturb any of your free time, miss DeWitt Bukater." Jack said all so charmingly.
"No of course not, sir. I only thought you were to leave for Boston today."
"That was the intention, but I believe Boston doesn't mind another day without me."
Violet giggled slightly and put her hand in front of her mouth. Ruth cleared her throat and held out her hand. "Rose, I need your help with the new curtains in the library."
"Thank God." She groaned and followed her mother outside. As Violet watched the two women leave, she rang the bell for tea. Trying her very best to hide her excitement, she took a seat next to him.
"When I woke up this morning, miss DeWitt Bukater," Jack Dawson continued, "I couldn't help but think about last night and how much I enjoyed your company."
"You flatter me, sir." She giggled once more, "I must say you are a very good dance partner and your manners are unlike that of any man I have ever come across with. No one has ever brought me such beautiful flowers after a ball or ever for that matter. Your parents have raised you well I see."
"Although it surprises me that you've never been gifted them, it does me a great pleasure to be the first to do so."
Their voices were soft and gentle, yet easily to be heard from the hallway. Rose had her ear glued against the door and made a theatrical motion as if she was on the verge of sickness. She knew, within the depths of her heart that Violet was going to fall for his endearing words and that she wouldn't be able to stop it. Despite the rocky relationship the two sisters had with each other, Rose still felt the calling to protect her at drastic times like these. She was, after all, made out of the same blood. Another laugh burst through walls and she pulled back, almost bumping into Trudy who was carrying a big tray. Rose quickly apologised before rushing out of the house.
It felt as if she had to drag her legs behind her as she moved across the streets of Philadelphia. Wendy lived quite a long distance away from her, in a house so big they even had guards to keep an eye around. Perhaps Mr. Dawson would be more charmed by their mansion, Rose thought to herself. It was thus far that she often took the motor car to transport her to the exact location. But today, Rose needed the wind to clear her mind. Although her body barely wanted to participate in her physical action, her anger finally ebbed away into oblivion. As she arrived, she was greeted happily by one of the guards.
"Good afternoon, miss Rose." She liked how he called her by her given name. It made her feel more like a normal person. She moved through the gates, the gravel crunching beneath her feet and it took her a whole minute to walk over to the front door. Their hallway was a grand as that of a palace. With gold, carefully plated over the banisters. In the middle was a big mirror and Rose stared at her own reflection as she handed her outerwear to one of the maids. The hem of her dress had turned brown because of the mud as well as her shoes. Droplets of rain still glistened on her face.
"Miss Jones is in the greenhouse, miss DeWitt Bukater." The maid informed the visitor.
"Thank you, Emma." She said and headed off. Unfortunately, Wendy was not only in the company of herself. Her mother, as well Mrs. Widener and another guest whom she not recognised were sitting across from her. Surprised by Rose's appearance, the ladies all smiled and gladly asked her to take a seat.
"Lovely to see you, dear." Mrs. Jones welcomed the young woman, "I hope you have recovered from our dinner." Knowing she was addressing her sudden feeling of faintness, Rose shook her head. "Oh yes, definitely. Unfortunately it was not the first time that it happened. I am afraid crowded room are bit out of my league."
"It can by quite overwhelming at times if you haven't been to so many social events, Miss DeWitt Bukater, but you will eventually get used to it don't you worry. When is your coming out ball?"
"In a month or so."
"Then you'll be presented together with my Annabelle." The other woman said cheerfully with her thick British accent. Her hair was almost the same color as Rose's. Daughter to the former earl of Wessex, Mrs. Geraldine Adams was a well known face among the upper class of Philadelphia. Rose had never heard of her or seen her out in public, but of course she had to be the only one incapable of memorising the members of her own sort, "She has been so nervous it is actually adorable to see. She can't wait to finally be a real part of society." Mrs. Adams continued, "And you, miss DeWitt Bukater. Are you ready for the life as a true grown up?"
"Mostly, yes. Although I much rather prefer my hair up than down." The ladies all laughed and Rose took a nibble of a piece of orange cake which she had been offered. She put her plate down and turned her attention to her friend. Wendy seemed distant. She was physically there, but Rose could see her mind was drifting off to another place. Slowly she put her hand on Wendy's knee. The sudden feeling of her touch put her back into reality and she smiled slightly, yet still distant in her facial expression. Wendy looked at her mother and patiently waited until she caught her attention.
"Mother, I still have to pick up my new hat. May I bring Rose to collect it?"
Mrs. Jones smiled and nodded her head. "Of course, darling. Can you also ask madame Laurent when I can stop by for my fitting?" Wendy nodded too and they both bid the elder ladies a good day. Again, the gatekeeper smiled towards Rose and quickly looked away when noticing the luring eyes of miss Jones.
"I do believe he likes you, Rose." Wendy admitted when they were far enough for the man not be able to hear them. Rose chuckled. "He is quite good-looking if you take away that silly costume you make him wear." Despite her words, Rose was very well aware of the man's attractiveness even with his suit on. At times, she wanted to kiss his lips, only to spark chaos amongst her family. The idea of a forbidden love sparked every part of her imagination and she could already see the disgust on her mother's face. But the wickedness of her thoughts did not bring her to get into action. Rose knew, even after she was presented to society, that she had no interest in finding a husband. Being a wife was a task she could not see herself do. Most girls dreamed of their big day and their white gown from the moment they opened their eyes. For Rose it was a vision of total blackness.
"I reckon there is no hat you need to pick up, is there?" Rose changed the topic of conversation.
"Oh there is, but I also need to discuss something with you I don't want anyone else to hear. But I believe you could already tell. It's like you read me like an open book, Rose."
She took her friend's hand in hers, then smiled. "What is it you must tell me?"
Wendy inspected the area around her, making sure they were completely alone before opening her mouth. "Well…," the feeling of awkwardness turned her cheeks red, "The other night, when my maid was getting me ready for bed, she was brushing my hair and I could feel her hands tremble it almost hurt my head. I could see tears burning in her eyes when I stared at her through the mirror. Then, when I asked her what was going on, she fell onto the floor and burst out in tears."
Rose was listening patiently and quickly grabbed a cigarette out of her purse before her friend continued. "You will never guess what she told me."
"What? Wendy tell me at once because you know I am not a patient person."
"She is pregnant." Wendy quickly said.
"Good God!" Rose cried out and took a long drag of her smoke, "When on earth did that happen?"
"I do not know! I didn't even know she was married."
"What on earth do you mean, Wendy? She is a maid, therefore she can't be married."
"Of course she is married. How can she become pregnant when she is not married?"
Rose let out a snort so loud it was far from ladylike. Wendy's eyes had turned so big you could almost drown in them and it was at that moment Rose realised that her friend had not a single clue about the workings of human anatomy. They remained silent for a second, both not knowing what to say. She had never been told and nor was she, yet the contrast was their difference in curiosity. Rose was no older than the age of fourteen when she found a book all about the workings of human reproduction. It described everything in the finest details and even when she was still so young, it all made sense. The strange feeling she felt down at times was nothing but human. From that moment on she kept her knowledge to herself. Wendy, on the other hand, had not been so lucky and almost looked as if she was in the depths of despair.
"Women don't need to be married in order to have a baby." She spoke calmly.
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Have you ever looked at animals, Wendy? They can have babies without the social construct of wedlock. It's what they tell us young ladies to keep us tamed. Perhaps the problem is what they don't tell us."
Still confused and distressed, miss Jones marched forward. Rose fastened her pace until she was in front of her and stopped her from moving forward. "It's all too much to explain right now, but isn't it sickening how we as women get robbed from our desires whilst men get to freely follow their instincts like wild animals?" She reached out her hand. "Here. I know a place I have to show you."
Through the most reputable parts of town, they strutted to their destination. Wendy clung to Rose's arm like pig on its way to be slaughtered. How miss DeWitt Bukater had come to know of this place was, also, due to pure coincidence. It was when her oldest cousin came to visit a year ago and tricked her into following him towards what they called a brothel.
"Look, Rose." He told her as he made her look inside. It was filled with men both young and old who touched every part of the nakedness of women also both young and old. "This is what happens to girls who refuse to behave themselves. If you're not careful this might happen to you." The bitterness of his voice in her ear made her body shiver. Now, they stared at the building from a safe distance. There was music being played loudly, mixed with laughter and screams.
"This is what they call a brothel, Wendy." Rose informed her, "You see the men walking in and out? Those are the creeps who bluntly follow their so called urges. The men who are dishonest to their wives by touching naked bodies of other women. Marriage has nothing to do with anything, Wendy. It doesn't particularly give us children and a life filled with love." Rose and took hold of her hand again. Squeezing it tightly she heard her friend sigh.
"I am still confused, but perhaps I am more confused about the fact that I see Jack Dawson walking in." She whispered in utter panic.
Rose's face turned completely white. As she squinted her eyes she could see that it was actually him who took off his hat before entering. Then he stopped in the doorway and was greeted by a girl, perhaps a few years older than herself. She had long curly black hair and was wearing a bathrobe with big embroidered flowers. She smiled at him, kissed his cheek and basically dragged him inside. Gasping for air, Rose turned away from the scene and leaned her back against the brick wall. She was going to be sick.