Chapter Ten

The next day we boarded a train for Philadelphia. By that afternoon we had arrived, and we were making ourselves comfortable at Cal's father's house. They withdrew to the study, while I was taken upstairs to recuperate. About an hour later, Cal came to see me in my room, and told me that his father had approved of the match, and that the wedding would take place the same day Rose's was supposed to take place.

By then I had gathered myself enough to realize what I was doing. But I didn't care. I missed Rose and James terribly, and I knew Cal had changed. So I walked down the aisle in Rose's intended dress, trying to smile. I wore the necklace James had given me, as a reminder of who I should be seeing at the altar.

The reception afterwards was tiresome, but I pretended to enjoy it. I made use of my society mask, that I had learned to use so well in the weeks since Titanic. Everyone congratulated me, wished me well, but no one mentioned Rose, or even James. It was as if neither of them had existed.

"Margaret, I'm so happy for you," Mother said, kissing me. I smiled and hugged her back, choking back the tears that wanted to spring up. "I'm so glad you found happiness at last."

I'm not really happy, I wanted to tell her. I'm suffering. I miss Rose and James, but I can't talk about them because then I'll start crying and ruin the wedding, and you and Cal will hate me forever.

"Margaret, darling, would you care to dance?" Cal asked, holding a hand out to me. I took it, smiling falsely, and as he spun me around, I could hear the guests smiling and saying what a lovely couple we made.

"How happy they look together," someone said.

If only they could know the truth! How inside I was hurting, hurting so much that I didn't want to tell anyone. How I had to internalize the pain in order to stand it. But they would never know, because I would never tell them.

The party ended long after midnight. Cal and I got into a cab and we were driven to our new townhouse, which my new father-in-law had bought us as a wedding gift.

It was dark and quiet, since none of the servants had arrived yet. I suddenly missed Charlotte, who had been so good to me during the many years she had served me. But I choked back the tears, and allowed Cal to lead me upstairs to the bedroom.

"I love you, Margaret," he said as he undid the buttons to my dress. I made no objection, and stood there and cried silently.

There wasn't any of the magic that I had felt with James. Cal asked once why I was crying; I told him I was happy. He was drunk enough to believe me. The next morning I woke up late, and he came in, dressed already, waiting for me to come down to breakfast.

Weeks passed, and I sound found that Cal was a persistent lover. There was hardly a night when he wasn't filled with lust, and I hadn't the heart to discourage him. Who was I, after all, to deny him happiness, simply because I was still in mourning?

So it was not surprising when, four months after our wedding, the doctor was summoned to our home. I had been vomiting for the past few days, and Cal had, naturally, been concerned about me.

"You are with child, Mrs. Hockley," I remember the doctor said, looking at me over his spectacles. "At least three months, to be exact."

I looked at Cal, who had been standing in the corner, watching the passersby in the street below us. At the word "child", he had turned to stare, first at the doctor, then at me. I smiled at him, hoping he wasn't angry, that he wouldn't revert back to his old self. But he smiled back at me, and laughed gaily.

"I am to be a father!" he said, and clapped his hands proudly.

"I will return in a few weeks to check up on you," the doctor said, ignoring Cal's previous remark. "So far, you are doing fine. If you are feeling tired, simply rest. Do not exert yourself too much; it would be bad for the health both of yourself and of your child. And eat and drink as much as you wish, for now you are eating for two."

He left on that note, congratulating Cal. I could hear them from the doorway, could hear the servants scuffling about in the kitchen, trying to hear the cause for my illness.

"Good bulls sire quickly," Cal said proudly, upon re-entering the room. I smiled at him, not wanting to roll my eyes at his boasting. I had not been in the least mutinous since Titanic, something both my mother and Cal were grateful for, I was sure.

"And you of course are a good bull, my darling," I said. "The best."

Cal puffed out his chest with importance.

"So, naturally, my child will be exceedingly worthy," he continued, coming to sit on the edge of the bed by my side. I smiled and said nothing, silently agreeing with him, as a good wife should.

"Cal, would you be a dear and tell Susan to make a pot of tea? I am feeling a bit thirsty," I told him, squeezing his hand.

"Of course, and then I will go out to relay this most wonderful news to our parents."

"Alright dear, but be back before dark," I told him. He smiled at me and rose, pausing in the doorway to take me in. I laughed and ushered him out. But as soon as he was gone, I burst into tears.