Chapter nineteen:

''Was my father faithful to you?''

Blinking twice, before adjusting her eyes in the morning room, Ruth glanced at her daughter through icy green eyes as though she had grown an extra limb.

''Rose, whatever do you ask such a question for?''

''I pose the question to you, as I had my fiance last night. For no one seems to speak of such matters.''

''You spoke to Cal of this?''

''Yes, and he seemed quite opinionated on the subject, also.''

''Rose, how could you? Don't you see everything we have worked for is at stake.'' Ruth spoke in hushed tones, the door of the morning room still wide open for passing people to hear in the corridor. Glancing to the door, Rose went towards it, closing it with a click.

''Everything you worked for, mother.''

Joining her mother upon the settee, Ruth started to speak of luncheon plans, perhaps as a distraction or to change the subject. Good gracious, breakfast was barely through and the next meal was curtly planned. It was as though one had to be ruled by the clock and to be placed at some varying event at each hour.

Rose nodded, non-committedly to the plans hoping it would enable the two to converse. She was dressed in pale, nude tones of beige and gold. Her hair was in a chignon but not so tightly as usual but it still felt to be like sticking pins into her scalp.

'Mother, please…''

''Now back to the topic in hand, I wasn't raised in a convent?'' Ruth eyed her sharply, ''I know your head was most certainly turned whilst you were away.'' She sighed, taking a sharp intake of breath and shaking her head. ''But whatever idiotic notions have been placed in that turned head need to be put back and you must sharpen your focus. I don't understand you, it is a fine match with Hockley.''

Rose remained completely silent with her back poker straight. Outwardly, she was collected and calm; as calm as could be. Her eyes softly gazed at her mother who raised to stance and paced the morning room with such stress that she could almost feel the heart attack she was about to bring upon herself. There had been the same erratic behaviour when she had informed her mother months previous that she would have to think of accepting Cal's proposal. It confirmed that her mothers future truly did lie with her successful marriage.

''To throw all of that away for a silly dream. I know how your mind has wandered these years…how you planned to attend university and to take dance lessons, good grief…'' Ruth shook her own head, pacing to the fireplace to feel the warmth. ''Was it another gentleman; the reasoning for your peculiar behaviour since arriving home?''

''Why do you ask?''

''I warn you, Rose, a handsome face is nothing and before you know it, a woman is just another name in his bed.'' Ruth raised her right hand slowly towards her mouth, after realising just how she had spoken towards her young daughter. ''Forgive me.''

''Oh mother-''

''Oh Lord, whatever must possess you?'' Ruth covered her face with her hands. ''Tell me you remained faithful?''

''One would think that I had made it abundantly clear to you that I have affections for another. It is not as though I have any sort of feelings really, perhaps beyond a mutual respect.'' Additionally, she wished to add, he had kissed her and sent her wits scattering about on numerous occasions, but that wasn't enough to garner affection the way her mother seemed to be convinced of. ''As for my faithfulness, I continue to question my fiance's, as well as myself.''

''Rose, your virtue is one of your most prized possessions, especially to a gentleman. You do not give that away to another, to any other man but the one that you marry!''

''And a man's virtue? A man can cavort about the entire city, jumping from the bed of whores to widows and yet a word is never uttered once.'' Rose raised her perfectly arched eyebrow as her mother continued her pace. ''Mother, you cannot tell me that isn't a lie. As a woman, don't deny that you wish for equal rights. As the mother of a daughter…''

''That is what is wrong with you, you fail to see the good in what you already have. There has to be something in your head, something that needs to be rectified.''

''Perhaps that is so.''

''How can you be so blasé, Rose? This has to be rectified. This situation...''

''Everything is deemed a situation to you." Amusement was replaced by the sheer disbelief at just how black and white her own mother saw this world. There were only twenty years between them. Yes, they were raised in different times, but surely time moved on. People were different. ''Do you truly believe that I have given myself to a strange man?''

''I certainly have seen the change in your demeanour. If you haven't given away your self, then I know that you have given away your heart-''

Rose laughed pitifully. ''Is that so?''

''Either way, if Cal finds out, then you shall be ruined. And if it's the former, then pray to the Lord, that Cal never finds out you had taken another.''

Rose wished to laugh. To cry. No, she had not given herself away bodily; her virginity remained intact, as much as now, she had wished to have experienced that beautiful passion which she knew Jack would have been capable of creating with her. His mouth alone had caused her to crave placing fingers against his bare skin. The way that he had suckled across her neck caused the darkened areas to surface and she had worn those marks proudly; now she wore a red print of Cal's hand beneath the severe layers of powder and blush across her cheeks.

''Yes, we shall have to hope that he doesn't, or perhaps I should simply tell him outright.''

''Oh, you fool.''

''I would rather be a fool than a whore for Cal; to give myself to him, to carry his children and then be discarded to the wolves of society to be gossiped about for the rest of my life.'' Rose cried. ''He is not a faithful man, and nor would he be after our marriage. He simply cannot wait to pull me into his bed to sink his claws into me, perhaps that is why he has asked continuously to do so over this courtship. I don't believe it is because he desires me, but so he can keep me. That he knows that he has fully possessed me and that is a man who never could.''

''Do not be so ridiculous!'' Ruth cried. ''As a woman, you are required by the laws.''

''Why mother? Why did you put this on my shoulders? Why was I to be the one to marry such quality in order to save the family name? What if I was to marry a simple man? A worker. An artist…"

''I am to mourn; a widow should not remarry within the time limits set out as by the rules of society.''Ruth sighed. ''You are a young woman, who is unable to separate her heart from her head. You could never follow the rules set. An artist? Good grief, you would taint your family name for a common man.''

''Yes, let us follow the rules, mother. Let us never allow ourselves to think, or love or feel. Let us grow to detest ourselves, our lives and everything about us, simply because of a societal rule book written by people who would go on to make the same mistakes.''

''You are a child, Rose. A naïve, little girl who believes in the fairy tale you have been fed by some stupid person who I have yet to know the identity of.''

''I know that he is the most honest person that I have met. He cares, he is truthful, he sees the world the way I want to see it.'' Rose paused for breath. ''I came back here, in hopes of providing you and Cal with comfort and help. I anticipated weeping, anxiety and nightmares and yet the two of you continue about as though the Titanic never sank. My name appears on the survivors list and I was never even aboard.''

''We protected you, Rose, from the media circus. Do you know what would have happened if anyone found out that you were in England this entire time? That you travelled home alone, without a chaperone. That you were cavorting and doing God knows what, with God knows who…'' Ruth paused, taking a breath to swish her skirts about. ''I can hardly believe this, today. Do you wish to leave this family, for good?''

Rose felt the blood drain from her face. A realisation had made her numb. Her hands were steady as she swirled the tea about in the bottom of her China cup. It was cold and the milk had started to lighten the colour; it was like a tiny person drowning. She almost felt like that person. Reasoning with her mother would never happen. Ruth DeWitt Bukater was far too close minded, stubborn and rude to ever accept Rose's choice but the one thing which she hadn't revealed was that her mind was made up; she was going to start to have some reign of her own future. Rose had reduced her mother to a mess in a short time. The truth was, beneath this crumbling exterior she knew that the woman was fearing for herself and what would become of her. The weight of their entire world fell on Rose's shoulders and when she threatened to crumble beneath it, Ruth would bark at her to stay afloat.

''Mother, I wish to be happy.''

''Cal can make you happy. Do you think that I don't understand how hard it is to not have your head turned by another? Rose, I knew nothing of love when I married your father and never once did I feel like a treasure. I had glances as a girl, by men twice as handsome as your father, but I was a married woman. I was an attractive woman. Attractions and beauty fades, my dear, and when it does we are left with the comforts and securities that marriage holds.''

''And what of my father? He left us with a large debt owed to several companies. The comforts of our life faded away. The security which he offered to us died with him. Once the debts are clear, we are left virtually penniless. I am to marry a man who I detest simply to upkeep our luxuries, am I not?''

Once, Rose had feared for the rest of her life. It was planned, each chapter was carefully laid out before her. Each dinner was the same but with a different beautiful dress. Each eligible suitor was the same face with a different name and each as arrogant as the other. They would list their family's accomplishments, their accolades and their bank balance. Each time she cared less and less as though those were the only things which mattered. On the other hand, her own qualities had been listed off too. There had been her ability to sing, to dance and play piano beautifully. She could converse in several languages and was well read. She had a love for theatre, culture and foreign cuisine. Then there were the more desirable factors such as her child bearing hips, as though she was simply built to breed like cattle or the questions of her temperament, as though she was a puppy to be purchased. Never once did a person ask questions of her. Did she wish to have children? Did she wish to marry? What would she like to do in the future? No, for one cared about those answers. Except Jack.

''You said that you knew how it felt, mother, to be attracted to someone. You said yourself, you weren't raised in a convent.''

''No, I wasn't. I know how difficult it is to distinguish between adolescent, naïve feelings and a real safe and secure man who will take care of us. The truth is, Cal can do such a thing. Your father was an idiot who couldn't keep out of the gambling houses. A man who couldn't stay out of the brothels, out of the God knows what else.''

''So my father was not faithful to your heart or our purses. He didn't think of his family but of himself.'' Rose knew where this was heading. Ruth was just as selfish as her father, even if her intentions were not as malicious. ''Is that the way of it for you, too, mother?''

''Don't be absurd. You are the reason I have fought so hard for this family name to stay above water for your father allowed it to sink so far in the mud, it was hard to even retrieve it.''

''No, you fought for yourself. You threatened me since my father died, how I would have to hang my head in shame if you would have to find some sort of work and that you had very little skill. That is what terrifies you more than anything, isn't it?''

''And so should you, too. We are women, our choices are limited but they are easy. We are to carry the children, to raise them to be fine up-standing individuals.''

''Then, I must have failed you well and truly.'' Rose stated matter of factly. The atmosphere was as thick as winter fog.

''You only fail me, Rose, when you speak of leaving Cal. Of throwing away everything which we have worked for. Do you wish to see our fine things sold at auction? Our homes sold. Our lives becoming something which you read of in Charles Dicken's novel?'' Ruth closed her eyes, a watery line visible as she came to sit at the table. ''I only want what is best for you, for us.'' She pleaded with Rose. ''Cal is a fine man who offered you more than he needed to.''

''Yes, he did. He paid the remainder of the debt and now there feels to be a physical hold over me.'' Freed of the necessity of good manners, Rose swiped the curls from her face. ''Yes, he feels the need to own me in every way possible.''

''As a husband does. Allow him your heart.''

A flutter of melancholy settled then across Rose's shoulders, weighing it down. Oh, soon she would drown, she could feel it. Gazing at her mother's pleading face, in her heart, she knew what Ruth had done was indeed for the good of her daughter. Marrying for love was never an option. A life with Jack would have never been filled with love, would it?

The intensity which she had felt when with him had caused a strange insatiable appetite to grow within her, to the point where she had truly attached to him. Suddenly, she felt all colour either rush or drain from her face; she couldn't tell which and quickly, her dreams were rushing back to her, of the way a man had cupped her head, her breasts-

''My heart isn't with him, mother, it never was and doubt it ever will be.'' Rose recovered from her temporary moment of recollecting her absurd and passionate dreams about a man who had managed to crawl beneath her skin so beautifully. ''I fear his intentions towards me have always been less than honourable.''

''Cal is a handsome and attractive man in his prime. You are a beautiful woman. Would you not expect him to feel-certain things?''

''Of course not, but I believe a woman should be able to choose just who wishes to give her heart and her body to, don't you agree?'' She picked up her teacup, taking a sip and wishing that it was a stronger liquor.

''Rose, this is not a fairytale. Or a game. A wife is required to entertain her husband.''

''Yes, I see. Entertain.'' Rose repeated, in a haze of confusion. "Well I am growing to be pretty tired of playing the dutiful wife. It is a role I never cherished. Perhaps a life on the stage is one I shall enquire after due to my plentiful experience."

"Well, theatrics have always been well within your repertoire."

Rose almost snorted aloud. Yes, indeed they had. Or so her mother believed. Calmly, she stood, brushing away any crumbs from her dress and going forth to the window. Outside the day in New York City was well started. People going to work. People making a living. Real people. Horse drawn carriages dodged pedestrians and the odd cart pulled fresh fruit and vegetables towards the market.

''Come away from the window, Rose, it isn't seemly for one to be seen looking so forlorn.''

Rose turned to her mother, who seemed to have calmed somewhat. She didn't move from the window. The wet, April morning was doing little to improve her mood but still, there was longing to be in another world; even soaked to the bone and poor. Sighing, she turned away from the window and came to the fireplace to catch a warmth. As she rubbed her hands to gain some of the flames across her palms, her engagement ring glittered.

''Tell me of the sinking, mother.''

Ruth lifted her gaze in surprise. ''It isn't a particularly cheery topic, Rose, and besides, I don't wish to speak of it. The night shall stay with me for a long time.'' Seeing her mother's demeanour change, Rose was aware of how much more affected her mother was, perhaps than she had let on.

''And Cal? He seems to be rather preoccupied with recovering the funds he lost and the luggage lost through a claim with the White Star Line.''

''Indeed. Such a loss he suffered. We all did.''

''Material goods, what of those who lost everything they owned as well as their mother, father or their husband. Some lost their children…''

''Do not speak of such matters with me, Rose, we suffered enough. There is no need to dwell on it. No need to dwell on what happened to those who were less fortunate than us.''

''Yet, you fail to appreciate what you do have?'' Rose pointed out. ''You fail to see what you have put upon my shoulders. Fail to see how I am slowly drowning within my own misery…''

Rose's voice was cut away by a knocking at the door. Quickly, she paused before slowly making her way towards to see who was causing the interruption.

''Good morning, Miss, I have a visitor requesting your attention, they await your company in the sitting room.'' The maid announced, quietly, before thrusting a folded piece of paper into her hands. Rose saw a newly hired butler come slowly behind but she dismissed him, with a fast shake of her head.

''Who has come to call?'' Ruth enquired, coming towards the door as Rose unwrapped the paper to reveal several words which had caused her heart to skip a beat.

''No one, mother, we shall continue this later. I have a personal caller.''