"Darling, don't…you won't be able to see anything. It is like pea soup out there," Matthew cautioned.
"Don't worry, I won't venture away from the door," she replied, opening it slowly and keeping her hand on the frame as she stepped over the threshold.
Stepping onto the deck, Mary looked up and l said, "Oh my…I've never seen anything like this."
Beams of moonlight normally invisible in the clear air were given substance by the fog, creating spectacular rays of incandescent light that shone down over the ocean.
Matthew attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed to see what all the fuss was about, but his back began to spasm and he let out a wail, the sound effectively putting an end to Mary's enchantment with the lunar display.
Quickly, she climbed into bed beside him and began to apply pressure to his lower back. "I'll work that kink out. Just try to relax, darling," she said softly.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling his tense muscles begin to unravel beneath his wife's hands. Reveling in Mary's touch, he closed his eyes and sank down into the plush mattress, happily on his way to slumber land
Then the foghorn moaned again, jolting him back into consciousness.
And he moaned along with it
XX
VIII
May 15th, 1934
Barring illness or the rare instances when he suffered a hangover, Matthew's internal clock woke him promptly at 6:00 a.m., no matter what time he fell asleep the night before or where he had laid his head to rest.
That is, when he rose in the same time zone.
As of late, his silent alarm had been rendered useless, however, due to the ship's clocks being set back an hour each night to accommodate the changes in time as it crossed the Atlantic.
It wasn't so bad on sunny days when bright rays of light shone through the bedroom window, making it clear that morning had arrived as well as enabling him to read the clock on the nightstand near his bed. He had no such luck now, however, since the fog that blanketed the ship left him in the dark regarding the time as well as where his spectacles lay.
Feeling Mary's side of the bed empty and hearing no sound of her rustling about the room, Matthew also was in the dark regarding his wife's whereabouts. That propelled him into action and he cautiously swung his legs off the side of the bed and sat upright.
No stabbing pain ensued and he smiled, attributing his improved condition to Mary's ministrations the night before. Thanks to her, all that he felt now was some stiffness in his lower back that no doubt would subside once he got moving.
Which will require light, he told himself as he fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand.
Finding it, he ran his hands over the base until he reached the switch and turned it on, illuminating the room in a soft, golden glow.
"Aha…there is where I put my spectacles," he said, reaching for the leather case that they rested in and putting his eyeglasses to good use.
The impediments to his sight resolved, he discovered it was half past five, quite early for his wife to be up and about. That led him to believe that she, too, was having difficulty adjusting to the time changes, and he thought she might appreciate some company, wherever she had gone off to.
Toward that end, he donned his robe and slippers, returned his spectacles to their case and made his way out of the bedroom in search of Mary, treading lightly from one room to another so as not to disturb the children.
By process of elimination, along with the distinct sound of the shower running, he concluded Mary was in the bathroom and padded down the hallway to join her.
Though he arrived quickly at his destination, all sound in the room had ceased by then. Still, a stream of light flowing from beneath the door led him to believe that she might still be inside.
"Mary…Mary, are you in there?" he said in a hushed tone, his body leaning heavily on the door with his lips pressed against the jam.
Hearing no response, he began tapping lightly on the thick, paneled oak, his knuckles beating a tattoo in sync with his wife's name.
After what he considered an inordinately lengthy amount of time had passed in silence, he began to wonder if something might be wrong and pressed his ear to the door in search of any sound.
Without warning, it flew open and Matthew fell forward, toppling into the room.
What the…," Mary sputtered, jumping back to avoid her husband from crashing into her.
Righting himself as quickly as possible, he apologized for his clumsy entrance. Then, taking in Mary's appearance, a devilish smile formed on his lips.
She was wrapped in a white bath towel that left little to the imagination as it clung to her still damp skin and her hair spilled over her bare shoulders and down her back in soft waves.
Matthew looked her over slowly from head to toe with appreciation and his desire soon became evident.
"Don't even think about it," Mary hissed, her hand grasping a firm hold on the towel that was twisted in a knot at her breasts and retreating a few steps. "The children will be awake any minute."
He frowned and let out a long sigh of frustration, knowing that she was right. The hallway behind him might be empty now, but he suspected it was only a matter of time before either his and Mary's offspring or Anna's would come barreling down it.
"Darling, I'm afraid that I can't help but think about it… not when you look so alluring…but you have my word that no matter how much it pains me…and it does… I won't act upon my thoughts, as I agree we could very well have company soon."
Mary looked into his eyes, her own filled with pity and longing in equal measure. Then she poked her head out of the bathroom and finding the corridor clear, grabbed hold of his hand and led him quickly to their bedroom.
Once there, she locked the door behind them and asked, "Is your back feeling better?"
He smiled and closed the distance between them, nudging her hand from the towel and tugging at it until it fell to the floor.
"Much," he replied and pulled her into his arms.
He first claimed her lips, kissing her thoroughly before moving his mouth down the side of her neck, leaving a trail of moist heat on her skin. Then he slid his hands down her back until they reached her buttocks and he gripped her taught bottom, anchoring her in place.
Working together, they managed to remove his robe and pajamas quickly, and without breaking their embrace, edged their way over to the bed and fell over like a tree cut down in the forest.
Entwined, they bounced as they hit the mattress, and began to laugh. Then after a few moments, they grew quiet as Mary straddled him and got down to the business at hand.
Whether due to their spontaneity or the fact that they both knew time was of the essence, Matthew found their desire was heightened and lovemaking as intense as it had been on their honeymoon.
Under what he considered excellent circumstances, it was difficult for him to not cry out in ecstasy, but he knew he must not as there could be a knock at the door at any moment. As his passion mounted, he bit his lip hard in order to remain quiet, nearly drawing blood.
Mary had managed to do the same thus far, but at the climactic moment, she could hold back no longer and let out a long moan.
Her outburst was followed by the sound that Matthew had expected and dreaded as he heard a loud knock on their bedroom door, followed by the knob jiggling back and forth and Victoria's anxious voice.
"Mother…Mother, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"
Shaking her head like a wet dog that has been hosed down, Mary took a deep breath and composed herself. "I'm fine, Victoria. I just… stubbed my toe, that's all…and your father is helping me with the…with the swelling. Give us a minute and we'll be out."
Matthew began to chuckle, but his laughter was quickly stifled by his wife's hand clamping down over his mouth while she shot him daggers with her eyes.
Relative silence ensued for the next few moments, the only sound in the room emanating from Mary as her breathing slowed to its normal rhythm and his muffled protests at being gagged.
Then Victoria's voice rang out loud and clear. "I do hope you will follow your own advice, Mother, and look where you are going from now on. My schoolmate, Sadie Thompson, told me her mother broke her foot when she banged it into a side table while chasing her baby brother and she had to wear some awful looking shoe until it healed…I think you would hate having to do that."
Mary's mouth twitched as she stared into her husband's eyes, her own now alight with amusement.
"I most certainly would, and in order to prevent such a debacle, I am going to make it a point to be much more careful in the future," she replied.
At that, Matthew removed his wife's hand from his mouth and suggested Victoria see what JR and her brother were up to.
"They surely must be awake by now, sweetheart. Your mother will be fine. I'll take good care of her."
That did the trick, and in a split second he could hear Victoria stomping down the hallway as she called out the boys' names.
"Well, if they weren't awake, they are now," Matthew said, grinning as he pushed a strand of Mary's hair behind her ear.
She laughed, then leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the lips and said, "That's for taking such good care of me."
XX
Learning from Victoria that her mother had injured her foot, Anna offered to take her and the boys to breakfast so that Mary could get some rest. However, upon paying her former employer a visit to advise her of the plan and offer her assistance, she found Mary completely recovered from her injury and highly amused by her daughter's description of it.
"But Victoria said you were moaning in pain. Was she exaggerating?" Anna said, clearly nonplussed.
Mary rolled her eyes and then chuckled. "No, she wasn't. She did hear me cry out and I told her that I stubbed my toe, but…"
Anna stood in the threshold of the doorway as she waited to hear the rest, then getting a glimpse of the time on the clock, interjected, "I don't mean to rush you but if I don't leave soon, the children and I will miss the first seating in the dining saloon. Are you saying that you did not stub your toe?"
Color rose to Mary's cheeks and she spouted, "I told Victoria that I had to cover for the true reason I was moaning, which had nothing to do with pain, if you get my meaning."
It took a few seconds for the penny to drop, but when it did, Anna's face flushed. "I believe I do," she replied, appearing mollified. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to pry."
Insisting there was nothing to forgive, Mary thanked Anna for her kind offer and told her to hurry before she was late.
"Matthew and I will have breakfast at one of the eateries and meet you back here later."
"Did I hear my name….," was all the future earl managed to say before Anna collided into him in her hasty exit.
"Ow!," she cried out, bringing her hand to her nose.
Mary was at her side in a split second. "Are you bleeding, Anna?" she asked anxiously.
Removing her hand and finding it dry, the former maid shook her head back and forth. Then her eyes darted from her benefactors to the clock on the nightstand, and with her nose now as red as her cheeks, she turned and took flight.
"Are you positive you are alright, Anna?" Matthew asked. "I'm dreadfully sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Anna said over her shoulder as she raced down the hall. "I should have been looking where I was going."
Hearing the admonition for the second time that morning, Mary chortled.
"What the devil is going on?" Matthew asked, looking thoroughly confused.
"I'll tell you at breakfast," Mary replied. "Right now, I need to get dressed and do something with my hair."
He nodded and got out of her way quickly, grateful that the two of them would be able to spend more time alone together.
During the last couple of hours, he felt as though they were on a second honeymoon and wasn't ready to let go of that feeling.
Not just yet.
XX
Matthew had suggested the Veranda Café might be a good place to eat since it was one of the restaurants he and Mary had not frequented yet, and she readily had agreed. They had passed it often when strolling along the promenade on A-Deck, catching a glimpse of its lush interior through the large bay windows.
The room was light and airy with a beautiful trellised décor and cane furniture. Adding to its appeal, if you were fortunate enough to be seated at a table near one of the windows, you had a birds-eye view of the ocean while you ate your meal.
Even though Matthew knew that view was now obscured, he had reserved a window table for two at 10:30 with the hope the fog would finally lift.
Now on their way there, he was so famished that he could hear his stomach grumbling over the clacking sound of his and Mary's heels on the wooden planks, and judging by the apologetic look on her face, she heard it, too.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to dress, Matthew. Getting my hair to stay in place in this weather proved to be a monumental task," she said. Then pushing back a stray lock that had escaped its bounds, proving her point, she added, "I'd say let's pick up the pace, but I'm worried one of us, or both, might take a spill, considering how slick the deck is."
"You don't need to apologize, darling, and I agree that we need to watch our step. Otherwise, we might find ourselves in the hospital when the ship docks, and I, for one, have spent more than enough time there already.
"Bite your tongue," Mary exclaimed, tightening her grip on his arm.
Then the two of them stopped short as a series of vibrations swept through the ship.
Guiding Mary to the wall for support, Matthew felt another tremor and wrapped his arm around her.
"What is happening, Matthew?" she asked anxiously.
Having a good idea, he quickly responded, "I've felt this before during the war when crossing the channel. It happens when the ship's engines change settings…from forward to reverse, for example."
"But why would the ship…?" she began and stopped midstream.
He knew why she did, too, as he had felt the same jarring sensation that diverted her. Nothing drastic, but definitely enough to make you take notice. It reminded him of how he felt when his AC had hit a bump in the road, and the memory made him uneasy.
The jolt was quickly followed by the sound of five short blasts from the Olympic and a loud "Woot" coming from somewhere off the starboard bow.
"Five blasts mean…," Matthew began but was pre-empted by Tony Foyle, who was racing past him and Mary along with a handful of men in uniform toward the sound of the alarm.
"Danger," he cried out over his shoulder.
At that, Mary begin to tremble and he pulled her closer, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "Don't let your mind run away with you, darling. We don't know enough yet to be worried."
She nodded and stepped back a few steps, turning toward the sound of stomping feet and chatter as curious passengers and members of the Olympic's crew poured out onto the deck.
Matthew caught sight of one of the ship's officers in close range and called out to him, asking if he could shed any light on the situation at hand.
"All that I can say with certainty is that Captain Binks has ordered the bulkhead doors be closed, Sir. I'm sorry that I can't tell you any more than that. I'm on my way to the bridge right now to be brought up to speed and get my orders."
At that, Mary gave him an anxious look that made it clear she felt they knew enough to worry now.
He was worried, too, since the information the officer had provided made it clear that the ship had been involved in collision. That would be the only reason the watertight doors would have been ordered closed.
Yet, he did his best to not let it show and thanked the man for sharing what he knew.
The crewman tipped his head and then took off at a fast clip, weaving through the small clusters of men and women that had gathered and were now busily engaged in speculation.
Violet's words rang in his ears as he recalled her conversation with him regarding the possibility of the Olympic meeting Titanic's fate. He had used "the odds of it" when making his case, insisting that a disaster at sea couldn't possibly strike the Crawleys twice.
Recalling how Mary's grandmother had won that argument, a wave of anxiety flowed through his body.
Then logic overrode emotion.
Get a grip on yourself, for God's sake. You just to told Mary not to let her mind run away with her and here you are doing it. You know that the ship was modified to correct the mistakes that led to the Titanic sinking. Even if we did hit something, that doesn't mean the Olympic is going down.
It isn't happening again!
His anxiety assuaged and head clear, he proceeded to assess the situation.
The doors likely had been closed as a precautionary measure. If the ship had been damaged severely in the collision, the passengers would have been notified to don their life jackets and report to their assigned emergency stations.
They were not.
That was good.
He let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived as the acrid smell of oil reached his nostrils, causing his nose to scrunch up with distaste. The foul odor permeated the air, which he noticed was now deadly still.
"Mary, does it feel as though the ship has come to a full stop to you?"
Rooted in place, she pondered his question for a long moment and then nodded in agreement. "It does feel as though we aren't moving any longer." Then sniffing the air like a bloodhound, she exclaimed, "And what is that dreadful smell?"
Matthew was about to reply but his attention was diverted by the sound of a man barking commands loud enough to be heard above the hubbub that surrounded them.
"I want the starboard lifeboat manned and lowered into the water, Mr. Davies," Officer Murdoch shouted. "Get your crew together and move quickly…there may be survivors, but they won't last long in this frigid water. There is no time to spare.
Mr. Cooper, the portside lifeboat has already been lowered but Captain Binks wants one of the motorboats launched. Get on it, man, and then report back to me."
Mr. Watson…Mr. Harris…we need flares, as many as you can get your hands on …and whistles…bring them to me here and I'll have them dispersed to the crew at the rails. Make haste men. Lives are at stake."
Though it was clear to Matthew that the first officer was well-informed, it was also clear he had his hands full at the moment and he decided it was best to not trouble him with any questions. Murdoch would likely bite anyone's head off who interrupted his delegation of duties, and considering the circumstances, he wouldn't blame him if he did.
Leaving the man to his work, he turned to Mary, who he found transfixed by Officer Murdoch's rapid-fire commands.
"Let's go to the rail, darling," he said, grasping her hand in his. "Perhaps we will be able to see or hear something useful."
She nodded slowly, then broke out of her trance, motioning for Matthew to lead the way.
"Excuse me…Sorry…Beg your pardon," Matthew said over and over again, as he maneuvered his way through the melee on deck toward the railing.
It had filled quickly with men and women searching for answers and he eyed the line to find an opening that they could squeeze into.
"There's one, " he said to Mary, guiding her to a spot between a short, stout man with a moustache and much taller one with red hair that was slicked back with pomade.
They both tipped their heads to them in greeting, the red-haired chap moving a few inches to give Mary more room. Then all heads turned in unison toward the creaking sound that emanated from the starboard lifeboat station as the emergency vessel was lowered into the water.
His eyes fixed on the men in the boat, Matthew could see that the crewmen were raring to go, their demeanor reminiscent of a thoroughbred awaiting the gate to rise at the Derby, and no sooner had the small craft hit the water, than the oars were in. Then moving in harmony under the directive of the officer at the helm, it quickly disappeared into the miasma.
"Look!" shouted a young man wearing a cap down the line, pointing his finger down and to his left.
Matthew followed his direction and saw debris floating in the water. As close as it was to the ship, he could clearly see a white hatch being swept along by the current, followed by some large jagged pieces of wood, a broken piece of railing and a variety of kitchen bric-a-brac. Then he saw a red buoy with tall letters sprawled across it.
"N…A…N…," he muttered to himself.
"Nantucket," came from behind him in a deep male voice that he readily recognized. "It is the marker for the lightship that the Olympic hit."
He hadn't heard Tony approaching with all the ruckus going on, and under normal circumstances would have kept to his plan and given him the cold-shoulder. However, this was not a normal circumstance. Not by a long shot.
Without preliminaries, he said, "I would appreciate your telling us everything you know."
Tony nodded, his eyes fixed on the wall of white vapor that the lifeboat had vanished into and not veering from it as he filled in the blanks quickly and concisely. The Olympic had miscalculated the lightship's radio beacon as it guided her through the Nantucket shoals and by the time the vessel was spotted, couldn't avoid hitting it. The ocean liner they stood on, which he estimated to be 75 times larger than the lightship, cut it clean in half.
Mary gasped and Matthew pulled her closer to him as Tony went on speaking.
"Binks had the bulkhead doors closed as soon as he heard the Nantucket's collision alarm go off… and he got the rescue boats in the water in record time." He paused then, shaking his head in dismay, "My heart goes out to him, as no matter he did all he could, this will weigh heavily on him. He will blame himself."
"We need more flares, here," rang in the air to their right and the three of them turned toward the sound in unison. "I don't want our men to lose their way back to the ship in this blasted fog…Move those passengers out of the way, Mr. Harris."
Not surprisingly, the order came from First Officer Murdoch, who now stood about ten feet away, motioning a handful of men under his command toward him. "I want to hear those whistles blowing nonstop… Nonstop, do you hear? If they can't see us, you men damned well better make sure they hear us.
Tony shook his head and sighed. "He has a heavy weight on his shoulders." Then looking about the deck at the crewmen in action, he added, "They all do. That ship went down fast, and if there are any survivors, they won't last long out there. The water is brutally cold.
The guarded expression that took shape on Matthew's face the moment Tony had arrived softened and he met his eyes. "Thank you for filling us in. I will keep the Nantucket's crew and the Olympic's in my prayers."
"That's all you can do, Matthew… Apparently, that's all any of us can do," he lamented. Then after a brief pause, Tony continued, "I offered Captain Binks my help as I've spearheaded several rescue missions during the war, but he said it was against regulation to have a passenger involved in any way…Still, if I can get my hands on one of those bloody whistles, I doubt any of the crew would stop me from blowing it."
"I don't mean to sound callous, but must ask…," Mary piped in. "What about the Olympic, Tony? Are we in any danger as a result of the collision? It's just…well, the children…," she began and stopped, swallowing hard.
Tony shook his head. "From what I've been told, the hull of the Olympic is a bit scraped, that's all. You have nothing to worry about, Mary. This ship is perfectly sound."
She let out a sigh of relief. "Then I shall leave the children to their breakfast. I don't want to alarm them by interrupting it…and I certainly don't want them up on deck when…"
A woman's scream cut her off midstream.
Turning toward the sound, Matthew found Mrs. Peele, the newlywed that he and Mary had met at the rail on their first day at sea, with her hand clasped over her mouth, leaning heavily on her new husband for support. She appeared as though she were about to faint, and it didn't take him long to realize why as he followed her husband's gaze.
"Mary, don't look down," he said quickly, nudging her away from the railing.
He wished he hadn't and grimaced at the sight of the body he saw floating face down in the water, the lifeless form intermittently bouncing off the side of ship as the current moved it along.
"Get another boat down and bring him up," the first officer roared. "Now!"
Tony cleared his throat and said, "God rest his soul."
"There will likely be more, won't there?" Mary asked in a strangled tone of voice.
"I'm afraid so, darling," Matthew replied, taking a step back to join her. "Now that we know the ship is in no danger, I think it best we return to the suite. Anna is bound to be back with the children by now, wondering what the devil is going on."
She nodded her head, then turned her attention to Tony.
"And what about Mabel? she asked, her voice stronger. "How is she fairing?"
Looking abashed, he ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "My wife is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. After hours of my groveling for her forgiveness, she begrudgingly pardoned me for my loutish behavior…what she knows of it, that is." He paused then for a long moment, his eyes glazing over as if he were contemplating whether or not he should say more. Then he spurted out, "No doubt her condition played a part in her decision. She just learned she is pregnant, you see… and Mabel would not want our child born into a broken home."
Now what do I say? Matthew asked himself. It seems no matter how hard I try to distance myself and Mary from this man, the powers that be keep thrusting him into our lives.
A moment later, Mary came his rescue as she had the night Tony had assailed her, finding the right words in the awkward situation they found themselves in.
"Though we may be estranged, I think I can speak for Matthew when I say we both wish Mabel and you good luck with the new baby."
Tony inclined his head and said, "Thank you, Mary. That is very kind of you." Then he cleared his throat for a second time before he added, "I left Mabel resting in bed as she has been lightheaded. I think I better get back to her now before her curiosity overrides her common sense and she attempts to make it to the deck …patience is not one of her virtues."
Though he was grateful that Mabel's condition was no longer a secret and that Tony had brought him and Mary up to speed regarding the collision, Matthew couldn't help but scoff at his comment regarding Mabel's absent virtue, considering how many the man was lacking, himself.
He bit his tongue and remained silent, however, in lieu of the calamity that they were dealing with and turned to Mary, who had so far navigated their unexpected run in with Tony seamlessly.
"Yes, you should go to her immediately," Mary said with a sense of urgency in the tone of her voice.
At that, he nodded his head, took one last look over the railing, and apparently finding nothing gruesome, turned on his heels and headed toward his and Mabel's cabin.
XX
No sooner had Matthew stepped into the suite than Victoria jumped off Anna's lap and ran towards him with tears in her eyes, shouting, ""Papa….Papa…Are we all to drown?"
She hadn't called him "Papa" for years as it made for less confusion at Downton where that moniker had been claimed decades ago. The fact that she had reverted back to it now told him she was frightened out of her wits.
Looking at Anna with a perplexed expression on his face, Matthew wrapped his arms protectively around Victoria. "Sweetheart…None of us is going into the pool or ocean…Why would you think we are going to drown?"
Anna responded on Victoria's behalf that a woman had rushed into the dining hall screaming at the top of her lungs that the Olympic had hit another ship and they would go down like the Titanic had. An officer had to be called to remove her as her hysterics were causing some of the passengers to panic.
Matthew's face reddened with anger. The damned fool could have caused a riot.
"Has the Olympic hit something, Father?" George asked in as calm a tone as one could expect from someone who nearly drowned 48 hours earlier.
At that, Mary crossed the room and placed her arm around George, who appeared anxious, though he was doing his best to hide it as Matthew comforted their daughter.
"The ship is not sinking," he said emphatically. "The Olympic hit a much smaller vessel…a lightship, sort of a floating lighthouse, if you will, that guides other ships in bad weather. It seems its location was misjudged and by the time the Olympic saw it, it was too late to prevent the collision. There was very little damage to this liner, but the lightship did sink… At the moment, the crew is searching for survivors…I think we should all say a prayer that they succeed in their mission."
George nodded his head and then lowered it, mumbling an invocation under his breath while Victoria raised hers to meet his eyes.
"How awful, Father," she said, swiping tears from her face. I will not stop praying for them until they are found."
"God help them," Anna said softly, moving to JR and pulling him close.
"I will pray, too, Sir," the boy said solemnly.
Victoria then turned to her mother. "I'm sorry that I made a fuss. I just got scared."
Mary replied quickly, "You have nothing to apologize for my darling girl. We all have been scared at one time or another….even your father."
"Even Father?" she said, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Yes, even me, Victoria. More times than I can count. It is natural to feel fear when you are in danger." He gave his son a sly look then, and added, "Some of us just hide it better than others."
She nodded her head and offered him a weak smile.
Then Anna came up with a distraction.
"Victoria, why don't you and I finish packing? And perhaps you boys would like to play a game or two of chess?"
"I think those are excellent suggestions , Anna," Mary piped in. "And you've reminded me that I, too, have some small items that need to be packed, though the bulk of our belongings has been taken care of by Mrs. McInerney."
George took a step back from his mother and catching JR's eye, jerked his head toward their room.
"Sure," JR said. "Let's go."
Then the two of them were off, both solemn but no longer appearing anxious.
Victoria moved to Anna and cautioned, "We must pack Mickey very carefully so that he isn't damaged when the baggage is tossed about."
The erstwhile maid nodded her head and promised her that she would make sure the mouse arrived in Newport without a scratch. The two of them then proceeded to head out of the room side by side, chatting amiably.
Mid-way, Victoria stopped short, turned her head and asked, "Are you coming, Mother?"
"I'll be there is a minute, sweetheart. I just need a word with your father."
Once Anna and Victoria turned the corner, Mary took hold of Matthew's hand.
"You are going back up on deck, aren't you?
Matthew nodded, "I must, darling. The thought of those men fighting for their life in the water compels me to do something more than pray…even if it is just blowing a whistle at the railing to guide the rescue boats back."
She leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Then let go of his hand and said, "I expected as much. Just be careful, darling. There are a lot of people jockeying for position up there and if anything were to happen to you…."
He cut her off, "The worst thing that will happen to me is my lips will be sore by the time I return. I promise you I'll be fine…Now, go tend to your packing. I'd like us to be able to get off this blasted ship as soon as she docks."
XX
The deck was still filled with passengers when he returned to it but they were partitioned off from the crewmen who were stationed in a line on both the port and starboard railing. Some men were peering into binoculars, others dropping flares that could float and the remainder blowing whistles in unison under a junior officer's commands.
Matthew roamed the deck in search of Officer Murdoch, thinking he was his best chance of getting his hands on one of those whistles, and he found him on the port side of the ship near the lifeboat station engaged in conversation with a subordinate.
Once the two men parted ways, he approached the first officer cautiously, and it was good thing he did as the man was so deep in thought that he nearly crashed into him.
Then Matthew came straight to the point.
"I have no problem with your filling in a bare spot in the line, but you'll have to ask Officer Crenshaw if he has any extra whistles. If so, you can tell him that I gave you permission to join the men under his command. God knows we need all the help we can get in bringing our men and any survivors they may find back to us. So far, only one boat has returned on the starboard side, carrying a dead crewman from the lightship." He paused then a moment, his face twisted, and then added in an acerbic tone, "You may have heard the collective moan at the rail."
Matthew grimaced. "I wasn't here at the time and am dreadfully sorry to hear it. Let's hope the next boat has more luck…and rest assured, I will follow Officer Crenshaw's commands to the letter."
Murdoch nodded his head and managed a slight smile. "I have no doubt you will, Mr. Crawley. Army infantry, right?" Then without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and headed toward the Bridge.
A few minutes later, Matthew stood next to a swarthy looking seaman, who towered over him and every other man at the rail, appearing at least 6' 5", with a whistle wedged between his thumb and forefinger a few inches from his mouth.
"Blow!" Officer Crenshaw shouted at the top of his lungs.
Matthew did, as long and hard as he could, and didn't stop until her heard the command to.
His eyes fixed on the dense pall of fog as he blew, straining to see any movement in it.
"Blow!" Crenshaw bellowed again.
The piercing sound that followed made Matthew's ears hurt, and he wished the powers that be had thought to give the men ear plugs along with the whistles, but he soldiered on, expelling every bit of air from his lungs before he stopped blowing.
His ears were ringing when he caught sight of one of the rescue boats breaking through the towering wall of mist with five or six men in matching uniforms that were much different than those of the men at the oars. Two of them appeared lifeless and another, who wore civilian clothes, had a bloody bandage wrapped around his head.
Matthew couldn't take his eyes off the man and grimaced upon seeing the rivulets of blood that streamed down the side of his face. He felt a bond with the stranger, having suffered a head injury himself in what felt like a different life.
For a moment, he was back in the London Hospital and Doctor Head was at his bedside informing him of his condition when he first saw him.
"You had a nasty head wound that made it appear blood was coming out of your ear, indicating an internal injury that could easily have killed you. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. Blood from a deep gash had just pooled there and then streamed down your face. Head injuries always bleed badly, even when they aren't serious."
Matthew hoped that was the case with this poor chap and said a silent prayer that it was so.
The motorboat wasn't far behind, and he was happy to see that it, too, had some success, spotting a gaunt looking man sitting toward the back of the boat with a thick blanket wrapped around him. Though the humid air was far from cold, Matthew saw that the man was shivering beneath it and felt overwhelmed with pity for him.
Poor bastard was probably numb with cold when he was picked up. Thank God they found him in time.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Officer Crenshaw, who was no longer commanding that the men blow, but instead telling them to take a break and pass down the water since the boats were all in. They were to stay at the rail, though, as they would begin again once the survivors were taken out of the boats and they were lowered again. The search was not over yet.
Matthew's mouth felt parched and he was grateful when the water reached him. He took a deep gulp and passed it to the giant at his right, who inclined his head in thanks.
Then he heard Officer Murdoch's voice thundering from the port side lifeboat station.
"Bring those stretchers here. We need to get these men to the hospital as quickly as possible. Their lives depend on it."
XX
Matthew had picked up bits and pieces of conversation between the crewmen during his time at the rail and by the time it ended, he had learned that the three boats had managed to rescue seven of the eleven men that had gone into the water when their vessel was lost, including the captain, who he discovered was the man he saw with his head bandaged.
He relayed this information to Mary and Anna after having spent nearly two hours in the ranks of whistle blowers. Eager for news, the two women had jumped to their feet as soon as he entered the room, with his wife crossing it quickly and throwing her arms around his neck.
"I'm so glad you are back, Matthew," she gushed. "Victoria has been popping her head out of her room every 10 minutes during the last hour to see if you had returned."
"I'll go to her in a minute and stop by to see the boys, too, he said, after planting a kiss on her head. "No doubt they could use a bit of reassurance that all is well…and it is for all of us, really." He paused then and sighed before he continued. "As for the lightship's crew, though I have no doubt Doctor Stevens will do all he can to keep them alive, I've learned from experience that a much higher power than he will have the final say in the matter."
Mary took a step back and eyed him over. "You look exhausted, Matthew…and you must be famished. All I can offer you now is tea and biscuits, but I can have a proper meal delivered quickly. Just let me know what you would like."
"It may sound odd considering my appetite, but though I haven't eaten a morsel of food since I woke this morning, I find I'm not hungry at all."
Mary frowned. "Well, if you won't eat, at least lie down and get some rest after you've spoken to the children."
His wife's suggestion was tempting as he felt drained of energy. However, he had planned on stopping by the hospital in an hour or so to see how the survivors were fairing and told her as much.
He couldn't get the image of the captain of the lighthouse ship out of his head, the injured man sitting stoically in the lifeboat with his back as straight as an arrow while blood poured down his face, and he was eager to learn the status of his condition.
"I do feel tired, darling…but there will be plenty of time for me to sleep later. I'm sure Rose and Atticus will not mind if any of us turn in early tonight after learning of our ordeal. That is, if they haven't already. The news likely has been transmitted by now and will have made headlines in New York and London by the time we arrive in America."
Mary's eyes widened and she exclaimed, "Papa will be beside himself with worry. You must send him a telegraph to let him know we are all fine before he reads about the incident, Matthew."
An image of Robert choking on his tea as he read, "Titanic's Sister Ship Involved in Tragic Collision" formed in his mind and he nodded quickly.
"I imagine he would be. Don't worry, darling, I'll stop by the purser's office on my way to the hospital and send him a wire straight away."
At that moment, Victoria poked her head around the corner and finding him standing beside Mary, she grinned like a Cheshire cat, then turned back into the hallway and roared, "He's back!"
XX
The three youngsters rushed into the room in a neat row with George in the lead, followed closely by JR and Victoria. So closely, that they nearly toppled over one another when his son stopped short upon reaching him.
Despite his depressed state, Matthew could not help but find the scene comical and his mouth twitched.
It felt good.
George turned and offered an apology to JR, who was in the process of steadying Victoria on her feet, and then came about and addressed him.
Father, has the lightship's crew been rescued?" he asked, the tone of his voice apprehensive but look in his eyes, hopeful.
He saw the same look in Victoria and JR's eyes as their gaze remained fixed on him, and it unnerved him.
The room suddenly felt stifling and Matthew loosened the knot in his tie and spread his shirt collar apart. Then he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and began blotting his face and neck with it.
Just tell them, his inner voice screamed.
Yet, how could he when the three of them were looking at him with such wide-eyed innocence?
He couldn't bear to see it extinguished, and he knew it would be once they heard the rescue mission was not a complete success.
An uncomfortable silence ensued while he internally debated whether he should reveal the truth. Then, concluding that his best course of action was to cherry pick it, he cleared his throat and the air.
"Seven men were rescued and taken directly to the hospital to be examined, George," he replied in earnest.
Technically true.
"Though I'm sorry to say, some sustained injuries."
No lie there.
"But they could not be in better hands. Doctor Stevens is an excellent physician."
Spot-on.
Pleased with his response and delivery, Matthew smiled inwardly as he watched the children's reaction to the news.
Victoria broke into a wide grin before racing across the room and coming up behind Mary at the table, wrapping her arms around her neck. "You were right, Mother. You said there was a good chance everything would turn out fine and it has."
By the looks of it, JR, too, was happy with the news. The boy flashed him a bright smile and said, "My father told me never to underestimate the power of prayer or the strength of the human spirit."
"Your father is a wise man," Matthew replied, returning the young lad's smile as he caught sight of Anna beaming at her son.
His gaze fell on his own, then, and he took note that though George appeared glad that the men had been rescued, his smile did not reach his eyes.
Still, he nodded his head and thanked him for the good news before taking the biscuit that Victoria was holding out to him and taking a bite out of it. Then he made his way back to his bedroom and closed the door behind him, leaving a few crumbs on the carpet in his wake.
XX
It cost Matthew 12 shillings and sixpence to give his father-in-law the peace of mind of mind of knowing that his family on the Olympic were safe and well. Considering what the wire would accomplish, he considered the sum a mere pittance and smiled broadly at the purser as he handed him payment for the wire that would be sent.
Unfortunately, he found upon making his inquires at the hospital, the men who had been pulled out of the ocean were not as fortunate as he and his family were.
Mrs. Thompson, the nurse who was on duty when he had brought George in, was back at her desk and greeted him warmly, asking him how his son was doing before she addressed his questions.
"It pains me to tell you that we've lost two of them already," she said, her voice a near whisper as the news had still not been made public. "I'm afraid their injuries combined with the onset of hypothermia was too much for them to overcome."
Matthew gulped and shook his head with dismay. "And what of the captain? Was he one of the them?" he asked, bracing himself for her response.
"No, he is still hanging on, though from what I have heard, his head injury is severe. Doctor Stevens is attending to him as we speak."
The news of the captain's condition hit him like a blow to his midsection and he felt his stomach clench along with his heart.
"There are three that are doing quite well, though, Mr. Crawley. A miracle considering what they've been through."
He took a breath and exhaled. "A miracle, indeed," he said. "That is good news, Mrs. Thompson… and I thank you for sharing it with me…as well as the rest."
She told him she was glad to have been of help and then excused herself. "I'm sorry, but I'm needed in the examination room and must get going."
Matthew shook his head and replied, "It is I who must apologize for taking up your time. I'll be off now…No doubt there will be more news by the time we dock…and please tell Doctor Stevens that I am praying for him and the men under his care."
She nodded and smiled before turning on her heels and racing around the corner toward the sound of someone moaning loudly.
He cringed as he heard the man cry out in pain and headed for the door, the pitiful sound following him into the hallway and remaining in his head until he reached the suite, where it was thankfully replaced by the sound of Mary and Anna's chatter.
They were sitting at the table discussing the fate of the lightship crew when he walked into the room but abruptly stopped speaking as soon as they caught sight of him.
Taking a seat beside his wife and Anna for what would likely be the last time before they disembarked the ship, he began to relay the information that Nurse Thompson had provided to him. They took it in with dour expressions on their faces until they learned of the three men who were holding their own.
"At last, some good news," Mary said, placing her hand over his.
"Amen!" Anna piped in.
Then the two women lamented the loss of those who didn't survive as well as the loved ones they left behind.
"I will never forget how I felt when Papa told me you had been killed in a collision on your way home from the hospital the day George was born. If it weren't for the baby needing me…," she trailed off, unable to continue and dabbing at her eyes.
Matthew reached over and grasped her free hand in his, giving it a shake. "You made it through, darling, and hopefully they will, too."
Though the atmosphere in the room was somber, he found it was made lighter by their camaraderie. Sorrow shared was easier to bear. He had learned that when his father died.
"God willing, the four that are still living will recover completely," Anna said.
"God willing," he and Mary echoed in unison.
The room turned silent then, so quiet that Matthew could hear the low humming sound of the ship's engines, which he hadn't noticed until that moment. That, and there was no familiar noise floating down the hallway.
"What are the children up to? There is hardly a peep coming out of their rooms."
Mary responded that George was reading and JR teaching Victoria how to play chess.
Matthew's eyebrow's rose. "Really? She has never shown any interest in chess before. In fact, I've offered to explain the game to her on several occasions, but each time I did, she shook her head and fled the room."
"I wouldn't take her change of heart personally, darling. You know she adores spending time with you."
He did know and was grateful that was the case as he enjoyed every moment he and Victoria shared. She was a bright, sweet child that never failed to bring a smile to his face, even when she was adamant about getting her own way. He would sometimes have to turn away when she dug her heels in as she reminded him so much of Mary that he must hide his amusement.
His mind's eye conjured up a scene from a day long gone by when Victoria, then a precocious five-year old, insisted she be allowed to walk Horus without supervision. The dog outweighed her substantially and had knocked her over more than once in his attempt to show her affection, but none of that mattered to her.
"Horus is my dog, too," she had shouted, refusing to give up his leash.
Robert had stepped in after his own cajoling and threat of punishment had failed and Victoria proceeded to give him a merry chase with Horus in tow before Mr. Carson blocked them in the dining room on their second turn around the table with a look that stopped her in her tracks.
A second vision was taking shape in his head when it was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door, and he rose from his seat and opened it.
"The fog is lifting, Mr. Crawley," the steward said with a smile, "and barring any…um… unforeseen circumstances, we should be arriving in New York Harbor before nightfall."
"Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Walsh . I think I can speak for us all when I say, we are looking forward to both the change in weather and our arrival in America."
He then asked the young man to wait a moment and disappeared around the corner, returning quickly with an envelope with the steward's name neatly sprawled across the face of it in his hand.
Extending it to him, Matthew smiled and said, "Please accept this as a token of our thanks for the excellent service you provided to us during our voyage."
Mr. Walsh's eyes lit up as he was handed the stuffed packet and he thanked him for his kind words and generosity before folding the envelope and stuffing it into his pant pocket.
"It has been my pleasure, Sir, and before we part, may I suggest that you station yourself at the port side railing before we enter the harbor as it will provide you with the best view of the Statue of Liberty. The monument is quite impressive, Mr. Crawley…a sight I am sure you will never forget."
Matthew thanked him again and the steward tipped his head and went out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.
Turning back around, Matthew saw George standing in the archway between the hall and sitting room with his eyes glued on him, shuffling his feet back and forth.
"What is it, Son? Do you need something?
"I do, Father," he replied in a soft tone of voice. Then he cleared his throat and said more loudly, "If it wouldn't be an imposition, would you come to my room and help me secure the lock on my suitcase. I've been trying to pack the book Mr. Molesley gave me chronicling the history of New York but it is quite thick and is preventing the latch from closing."
"I'd be happy to help," Matthew replied, and followed George into the bedroom.
He had assumed he would find the boy he shared it with and his daughter there, but they were nowhere to be seen.
"I was told JR was giving Victoria chess lessons. Was I misinformed?"
George advised him he was not and went on to explain that they had moved the chess board to his sister's room so that he could read in peace.
"Well, that was very considerate of them," Matthew said, and moved to sit on the empty bed, noting that the other had George's suitcase planted in the middle of it.
Soon thereafter, he took notice that the latch on his son's luggage was tightly secured and he fixed his gaze on him with one eyebrow raised.
George stammered, "I'm sorry that I brought you here under false pretenses, Father…." He paused then and took a deep breath and let it out before he resumed speaking. "…It is just….well, Victoria and JR seemed so happy to hear your news that I didn't want to dampen their spirits. They are only children, after all, and have been quite distressed by circumstances that have taken place in the last few days."
Matthew felt his mouth twitch at that and his chest fill with pride as it was clear his son no longer thought of himself as a child. Then he wondered if George ever had.
"Go on," he said, motioning for him to take a seat across from him.
Pushing the suitcase toward the headboard of the bed, George lowered himself onto the soft mattress and sat, staring at the gold fleur de lis emblazoned on the dark wool carpet under his foot for a long moment. Then he cleared his throat and spouted, "There were more men on board than the seven that were pulled out of the water, weren't there?"
Knowing how astute George was, Matthew was not surprised that he picked up on his lie of omission and sighed. Though it would pain him to reveal the bleak details that he had not shared earlier, he had to answer his question honestly now.
Shaking his head in resignation, he replied, "Yes, there were more. Four crewmen were not recovered from the sea and I've learned since I visited the hospital that two more have succumbed to their injuries. The captain of the lightship is in pretty bad shape, but from what I've been told, three other members of the crew are doing well under the circumstances." He paused a moment then, taking in George's forlorn expression, and added, "Captain Binks did all he could, Son. He had rescue boats in the water for over two hours."
George sighed and then said, "I'm sure he did everything humanly possible. From what I've seen, he runs a tight ship and he is an honorable man."
Inclining his head in agreement, Matthew rose and crossed the short distance between the two beds and planted himself next to his first born, wrapping his arm around him.
"Since I believe you are wise beyond your years, it is likely that you have already discovered that contrary to the notion that children hold regarding happy endings, they are hardly a given. Tragedies befall people every day, George, no matter what part of the world they live in or their station in life."
At that, George inched closer to him and rest his head against his shoulder. "I do know that, Father since our family was struck by the worst tragedy imaginable the day I was born…Of course, I have no first-hand knowledge of it, but I have picked up bits and pieces of conversations over time regarding your accident and the aftereffects, especially as they pertain to Mother. To be clear, the information was not shared with me knowingly. Whenever the topic was discussed, it was done so in hushed tones."
Matthew was taken back by that. Hushed tones or not, he was not pleased that the gory details of his accident and its aftermath had been discussed when George, or any of the other children that resided at Downton for that matter, were within hearing distance. He would address his dissatisfaction with Robert once he returned to Downton.
"Would you mind sharing what you heard with me?" he asked in a soft tone. "I'd like to be sure you have all your facts straight… and I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have. In fact, I wish you would have come to me or your mother if you were curious about that time in our lives. There is nothing you can't ask us, George."
"I didn't want to make either of you relive it, Father. From what I gathered, Mother hardly came out of her room for months when she believed you were dead…and she could be heard sobbing through the door quite often. Grandfather told Aunt Edith that he had encouraged her to spend more time with me, as he believed that would have lifted her spirits, but in the early days, she couldn't manage to do it. She was too brokenhearted.
The thought of Mary in mourning, unable to derive any happiness from their newborn son cut him like a knife and he grimaced. "I'm sorry that your mother suffered because of me, Son, and that you were slighted the attention you deserved because she did."
George raised his head and exclaimed, "You have nothing to apologize for…no more than Captain Binks does. You both did the best you could." He smiled at him then and added, "Besides, you gave Mother a happy ending she never thought possible."
Nor did anyone else, popped into his head, and he felt the corners of his mouth turn up at that as he remembered the looks of astonishment that greeted him the day he returned to Downton. He was about to share that experience with his son, but finding him in deep contemplation, he let him be.
A minute later, George looked him in the eye and said, "It appears to me that all is not always lost when tragedy strikes…sometimes a happy ending is still possible. Miracles might be rare, but they do happen…You are living proof of that, Father, as are the lightship crewmen that will survive their injuries. I think we must never give up hope, even if all we can hope for is to have enough strength to brave the storm."
In awe of his son's insight and eloquence, Matthew beamed at him with pride and said, "You never cease to amaze me, George. Here I thought I was teaching you a life lesson, but it is clear you have already mastered it…and much better than I have. Definitely wise beyond your years."
George blushed at the praise and replied, "If I am, it is only because I have had such an excellent teacher in you, Father."
Matthew felt his eyes become misty and blinked a few times. After his injury at Amiens, he had been awarded the Victoria Cross in recognition of his valor and sacrifice, but even that honor didn't compare to this.
"Thank you, Son. I cannot think of higher praise."
Then he lightened the mood, slapping George's thigh before rising to his feet and declaring, "My stomach is grumbling worse than Mr. Carson when he found Horus had gotten into the pantry. I say we gather the others and decide on a place to eat."
Grinning from ear to ear, George bounced off the bed and said, "Lead the way, Father."
He did but stopped short when he reached the threshold of the room as Victoria's high-pitched declaration reached his ears.
"Checkmate!" she shouted.
Matthew turned to George with a look of astonishment and alarm on his face, "I'm afraid we are in for it now."
Mirroring his father's expression, he nodded and replied, "Not just us. Grandfather found the yo-yo sessions tedious. Can you imagine the look on his face when Victoria challenges him to a chess match?"
He could, and seeing the scene play out in his mind's eye, he burst out into laughter.
George followed suit and the two of them chuckled all the way into the sitting room, where they found Mary and Anna staring at them in bewilderment.
"What on earth…?" Mary said, looking at her husband and son as if they had both gone mad.
Composing himself, he turned to George and winked at him before replying, "We have stumbled upon a happy ending."
XX
This chapter has been the most difficult to write as it is based on an actual tragic event. There is more history here than in any others I have written. The details of that event have been transcribed accurately. I have added very little for dramatic impact, as not much was needed.
On May 15th, 1934, the Nantucket lightship LV117 was cut in half by the Olympic and sunk. Real people suffered a horrible fate and died.
Therefore, I dedicate this chapter to the brave crew of that ill-fated lightship, both the men who perished 85 years ago as well as those who survived but are long gone now. They heroically guided thousands of people to safety during their tenure and I applaud them. May they forever rest in peace.
As for our beloved Downton characters, they will be arriving in New York in the next chapter and then will move on to Newport to Martha Levinson's mansion.
The Crawleys and Bates have a lot of excitement ahead and I hope you will stay with this story so you won't miss any of it.
I apologize once more for the long delay. I have had my own storm to weather in real life and it has been very difficult to find time to write.
As I've said before, however, I will finish this story to the best of my ability.
I heartily welcome reviews as I think it brings new readers as well as giving me the impetus to begin working on the next chapter.
Please leave a line or two.