Chapter 19

Again, it has taken quite long since this update. I am in the middle of moving houses and all my stuff is all over the place! I did try to make something out of this chapter. Not really proud of it, but it will move the story along xoxo

France

Picture perfect like a painting, three pairs of dark brown eyes burned on her skin. Henriette, the youngest of the children, rested her head in the palm of her hands and sighed deeply. She had just turned four. And although she would rather spend the days chasing the sun and roaming among the century old trees, Mr. Dubois forced her to follow the lessons Rose would be giving them. Within the first few days Rose had been here, she noticed that the dynamic within the family was nothing but dominated by the head of the household. The male, the provider, the constructor of dominance and everyone simply obeyed to his commands.

Luckily, the new governess managed to avoid the man whenever it was possible. Preparing her daily lessons in the quietness of her room and having meals with only Mildred. The maid could not stop expressing her joy that she was now in the company of someone else, even though they barely saw each other during the day. It was the sole comfort of knowing that she wasn't the only one walking through the dark and cold corridors of the house.

"I have always been quite lonely." Meredith admitted one night as they were having dinner together. Because of the dullness it was hard to see her facial expressions. She did not sound sad nor was there any other form of emotion in the tone of her voice. She just said it as if she was reading the ingredients of a recipe.

Rose wanted to respond by acknowledging the feeling, but instead chose to remain silent. There was nothing to complain about in opposite of Mildred's life. From the moment she was born she had been taught to survive

"But I have always had company of God. Do you believe in God, Rose?"

Admitting the fact she liked the idea that there was something out there whatever it might be, Rose had always doubted the existence of God. She had never felt him, even when she wanted to; he was never there. Not in her thoughts nor in signs. It was all nothing. She pushed her boiled potatoes to the side of the plate, nipped at her glass of water and shrugged her shoulders casually. She had quickly left the concept of religion behind her until the eldest of the children pushed his bible towards her from across the table. Looking at it with a raised eyebrow she didn't think much of it and put it aside.

"Father said we need to start with a prayer." Maurice had his head bowed down as if he was ashamed to say it out loud.

"I thought you always did your prayers at breakfast?"

The children all nodded their heads. "We did. But we need to do it again."

"Oh," Rose simply said and hesitantly took hold of the bible again. It was old for many pages had almost been torn from the cover, "Do you have one in might that you would like to read?"

"Je Vous Salue Marie." Maurice responded and showed her the correct page. Rose watched how the three children closed their eyes and folded their hands together. She cleared her throat and began to speak.

"Je vous salue, Marie, pleine de graces, le Seigneur est avec vous; vous etes benie entre toutes les femmes, et Jesus le fruit de vos entrailles, est beni. Sainte Marie, Mere de Dieu, priez pour nous pecheurs, maintenant, et r l'heure de notre mort. Amen.."

They all remained silent for a bit longer until Rose announced that she wanted to continue. "All right, children. I would like to start with history and continue with science."

"Science?" Maurice asked with his eyes widened.

"Yes. Is there something wrong Maurice?"

"Father always says there is no such things as science. God creates everything."

Sitting back down onto her chair, the young woman was at a loss for words. Never in a million years would she have expected to encounter a family that was thus much occupied by their own beliefs. Rose felt sorry for the children, knowing their was a whole world out there that they didn't have any notion of.

"Than what am I here for children? Do you have any idea on the subjects I am allowed to teach you?"

The middle of the three raised his hand in the air and nodded his head. "History, English, French and Bible Studies, mademoiselle."

"Of course." Rose let out a loud sigh and tried to collect her thoughts. "Well let's start with History and we'll see after that." No one believed it to be a strange occurrence that the youngsters were being withheld from a proper education. Rose realised that, no matter how much she had always hated her own governess, she was beyond content with the knowledge that woman provided her with. She believed herself to be a well lettered woman who's able to think for herself and, to some extent, knew how this life worked. There is not only one way to look at the world, otherwise there wouldn't have been so many people.

The hem of her dress brushed over the grass as she went for her usual evening walk through the meadows. It still occupied her mind in a bad way as it was impossible to enjoy the beautiful greenery around her. Rose turned her head to look back at the house. It was quiet, only the sound of crickets and birds filling the emptiness of the open air around her. Still, smoke was coming from the chimney and there was a dim light shining through one of the windows. As if all doubts had seemed to vanish from her body, Rose straightened her back and marched towards the mansion in a fast and steady pace. Mr. Dubois had specifically told the new member of the household, not to disturb them unnecessarily. Rose was only allowed to join the family for their daily tea at four in the afternoon. But this was a serious matter, or so she thought.

The wooden floor creaked loudly underneath her feet as she entered the house. The voices in the background stopped. They were aware of her presence. Mr. Dubois was sitting next to the fireplace and reading a dark red covered book. The woman of the household had only her silhouette that gave away her presence. Hidden in the darkness of the room, Mrs. Dubois looked up from her sewing work and Rose noticed that she was smiling. She looked almost relieved to see her.

"Bonsoir, mademoiselle." Mrs. Dubois greeted her.

"Bonsoir a vous. May I speak to you for a minute? It won't take long, I promise."

Mr. Dubois sighed loudly and pointed at the chair next to him. Rose remained standing.

"It is about the children's lessons. I think it would be beneficial for them if I teach them as much as possible. It will expand their horizons, monsieur."

"I have told you what I want them to be educated in."

"I know, yet I personally believe there is still so much more for them to learn. History of the world, science…"

"Absolutely not." Rose was being cut off before she could take another breath.

"Husband," Mrs. Dubois tried to engage herself into the situation, "but what if it is good for the children? You too want the best for them, don't you?"

"Keep your nose out of the conversation, wife!" He snapped. His voice sounded scary, as if it was possessed by a loud storm. "Go to bed."

Of course, the young woman obeyed her husband's orders and tiptoed outside like a frightened dog. Rose watched her go and took a step back when she suddenly felt his presence so close to her. His breath smelled like cheap wine and his breathing was heavy.

"Don't get any ridiculous ideas into that American head of yours. I pay you and you must do what I tell you to do. Am I in any way unclear?"

Shaking her head, Rose backed away until her hands found the the knob of the door. Was this another form of prison? She asked herself as she kept heading towards the horizon. It had already started to get dark, yet she didn't care in the slightest. Rose had to walk until her feet gave up. She had to scream without sound, run without movement, live without dying. Escaping a place that made you sick was not the answer to get better. Now, it only made her symptoms worse. Loneliness crippled everything within her; the dark shadow she did not seem to get away from. It was in everything, everywhere all at once.

The horizon did not appear to reach her. Even now, Rose DeWitt Bukater was heading towards somewhere far from reality. Perhaps, her dreams did happen elsewhere without her and with every step she took she understood that she would never arrive at her desired place. Loneliness was here and now and it would still be there in the future. The torment would last forever.

Boston.

"No, no and once again no!" Jack slammed his hand on the top of his desk and pointed his finger at his assistant's face. "How many times have I told you that if this doesn't get delivered on time we can't complete the transaction."

"I am really sorry, Mr. Dawson." The man in front of him was only a young boy. No older than seventeen. He was a smart one, having made his way to this position all by himself and yet, his frustrated boss couldn't help but treat him horribly. Jack had treated everyone around him horribly from the moment he stepped his feet into the office again. Within a span of weeks he had aged many years. Frustrated and tired, he lifted himself from his chair and walked over to the window. It was busy on the streets; cars honking to inattentive pedestrians. His eyes focused themselves on a stray dog that carelessly crossed the road and got almost hit by a carriage.

"Sorry won't fix the problem, Mr. Gillian. Now get out of my office and make sure it won't happen again." Regret was the only emotion he felt as he spoke those words out loud, but he was unable to show any sign of remorse. The young assistant only nodded his head, collected his documents and fled the room as fast as he could. Jack kept his glance fixed on the outside world. How often he had roamed outside of the office together with his brother, waiting until their father would finally show his face.

"You know what, Jackie." Geoffrey would say as he pointed to one of the windows on the top level of the building, "When we are older, this will be ours. We will be the biggest businessmen of Boston. No, the whole east coast or even the country!" Those words did not excite the ten year old boy in the slightest. In fact, it scared him within the deepest parts of his core and that feeling alone made him sick to the stomach. Now, ten years after that conversation he was standing behind that window, looking out over the world that once belonged to him. Every creak, corner and rivet of the city was captured in his heart. Jack was part of the universe and the universe was part of him. Now he felt as if he was nothing. Weeks had passed since the unfoldment of drama and people had more or less started to get over it. Newspapers were now occupied by other social dilemmas, almost forgetting their engagement ever existed. There were no further words from the DeWitt Bukaters. They had vanished into thin air.

To keep his mind occupied, Jack spent all day locked up in his office, trying to fix the economical fiasco as best as he could despite the hopelessness of it. To see his son waste his time away without any form of progress, old Mr. Dawson had enough of it. He had opened the marked for his son one more time; not giving up until there would be an outcome.

Now as Jack was waiting for his next lunch appointment with a potential future wife, his blood started to drain from his body. He couldn't remember how many he had had already wit one being stupider than the other. It was a game with no ending. As the sound of a knock on his door entered his mind, he bit his lips to prepare for another hopeless attempt to get him married. Maria Nelson was a twenty-two year old woman from New York. Jack had only seen a picture of the candidate. Her hair was raven black and she had a pointed nose with almost invisible lips. Her expression held no character, but she was richer than every other girl he had met. Turning around, Jack's heart seemed to drop to his stomach, feeling more lightheaded than he already was.

"Miss Jones?" She was one of the last persons he ever expected to see again. Wendy Jones was a part of the past he desperately wished to forget.

"You look quite shocked, Mr. Dawson. If you want me to leave I can go away."

"No." He shook his head heavily and headed towards the young woman, "I was just expecting someone else."

"I'll be quick if you allow me?" Her eyes gazed towards the inside, initiating that it was an urgent matter she came for. Letting her in, Jack pulled out a chair for her to sit on. Wendy noticed his glance that was locked onto her hand and she lifted it up, exposing the diamond ring in the bright daylight. "I am engaged, Mr. Dawson."

"Congratulations, miss Jones. Who is the lucky man?"

A soft but nervous chuckle filled the room and she avoided eye-contact. "That is what I wanted to discuss with you, Mr. Dawson." She spoke soft and slowly, "I was having dinner with my fiancé the other day. He looked so worn out and frustrated that I started to ask him about it. He is a timid man, Mr. Dawson and doesn't like to complain in the slightest, but I knew something was wrong. He admitted that he had some trouble at his work and particularly with someone."

"I see," Mr. Dawson nodded his head, "if he has a good reference he can send it to my secretary and then I'll see what I can do for him."

Wendy let out a snorting laugh and shook her head in disbelief. "I think you don't see anything now do you, Mr. Dawson? You know what my fiancé said about that someone and that someone being his boss? He said: 'He has been nothing but rude and hysterical. Drinking the day away and roaming the halls like a drunken sailor. Everyone has had enough of his childish behaviour and some are even scared of him.' Do you know who my fiancé is, Mr. Dawson?"

"No I don't."

"Wallace Solomon. Head of the law apartment here at your family's company. And the person he is talking about is you."

Jack suddenly felt as if he had been slapped in the face. He didn't dare to look at her. "Everyone has noticed you change since your return from Philadelphia. You have become a bitter man, Mr. Dawson. Scared and angry at the world and others are paying for it now."

"Right now, our company as at a crucial state, miss Jones. Things are hectic therefore I cannot be everyone's friend at the moment."

"Rose told me about your kiss." She suddenly said and Jack felt instant panic rush through every part of his body. If one person was going to mention her name once more, he was going to lose his mind. He had it under control; at least he believed he did. In desperate need for a drink he grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table next to him.

"I've had enough of this conversation." He roared at her.

"Well I have not, Mr. Dawson. I might be here on behalf of my future husband but also on behalf of my friend and even you, sir." She watched how he chucked down his beverage in one sitting and shook her head, "When she told me about… what happened between the two of you, my reaction wasn't that positive. I was beyond shocked. And then when I looked at her, I saw something which I could not quite grasp, but when I think about it now I know that she wanted to do it again; kiss you I mean. I wasn't a well-mannered friend during that time, Mr. Dawson. All I said was how impossible it all sounded and that she really needed to go to France to forget about it, or you for that matter. Perhaps I didn't want her to get into more trouble and let the bomb explode, yet the bomb has exploded anyway."

"I thank you for your honesty, miss Jones."

"I just want to say that I am sorry, Mr. Dawson. I really am."

"Again, miss Jones, there is no need to apologise. You have no fault in this. Rose has been really clear to me about what she wants and especially what she doesn't want."

There was a long silence between the two of them. Both feeling each other's pain.

"I just wanted to tell you and I hope you'll find your peace." She then reached for something in her purse; It looked like an envelope. Placing it onto his desk she bid him a goodbye. "In case you might need it." Then she was gone and he was alone once more.

Jack was now on his third drink already as he felt the warmth of alcohol calm his trembling body. The clock in his office ticked loudly and he waited until Wendy's footsteps had completely disappeared before he allowed himself to move. The envelope was small and delicate and as he stared at it for what felt like minutes his heart began to beat faster. It was not only miss Jones' address that was written down; in the left corner he saw something written in French. He put his glass back onto the table and took the paper off of it. It was as if his feet were being lifted off the ground. His whole body felt as if it was floating in the air.

Dear Wendy,

I feel like I have totally lost my mind…

But before Jack could let the words of both helplessness and hope enter his soul, he was being interrupted by his secretary. It was time to meet miss Nelson.