I bet you thought I had given up on this story. Well, I'm glad you were wrong and hope you are, too. It means a great deal to me.
Real life has not been easy. I have had to accept I have little control over a great deal that is going on. However, I do dictate where Matthew and Mary are headed and that makes me happy.
My hope is that you thoroughly enjoy the next two chapters and will let me know you did. Your reviews are greatly appreciated.
Thanks again for your patience. I am going to do my best to get back on a regular schedule and to catch up on some Matthew/Mary fanfiction that I've missed.
XX
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
Chapter IX
By the time the Olympic reached New York Harbor, the insidious fog that had engulfed the ocean liner for 36 hours had finally lifted, and with it, so did the spirits of its passengers.
A good number of them now lined the portside rail as the ship neared the Statue of Liberty, and the Crawleys and Bates stood dead center in the group of onlookers, having claimed a spot right after luncheon in order to get their best view of the monument.
Matthew turned his head toward the sound of chatter behind him and found a row of people jockeying for a better position, each one in the group looking up and down the line for an open space. Following their gaze, he saw there was none, and although he could appreciate their predicament, he wasn't budging.
He encircled the smooth wooden rail with his hands and craned his neck until he was looking directly into the bright blue sky overhead. It was a welcome sight and he relished it for a few seconds before lowering his eyes to the tranquil ocean. The liner was cutting a clean path through it, leaving a long trail of white bubbles in its wake.
The statue could be seen in the distance now, a green mass that protruded from the center of an island like a sprout bursting through the soil in a garden. It grew in size as the ship drew closer until the outline of what was no doubt the most famous lady in the world became clear.
The porter had been right about the monument being impressive, he told himself, as the Olympic slowed, allowing the passengers time to take in the details of what many architects touted as the engineering masterpiece of the 19th century.
Over the exclamations of "Oohh and Aahh" that filled the air, Matthew heard George cry out, "Isn't she magnificent, Father?"
"That she is," he replied, his eyes moving slowly from the broken shackles at her feet to the torch she held overhead.
The poem associated with the statue swiftly came to mind and Emma Lazarus's most famous lines resounded in his head,
"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
They certainly answered her call, he told himself. Millions from Europe, let alone the rest of the world, had taken that invitation to heart and emigrated to America in search of a better way of life for themselves and their families.
He imagined then how they must have felt upon seeing Lady Liberty for the first time and goose bumps rose on his skin.
Turning to George, he found his son, too, was mesmerized by the statue. So much so, that he began rattling off details pertaining to the iconic landmark, no doubt compiled from one of the books Mr. Molesley had given him when he learned they would be traveling to New York.
"The official name of the monument is the Statue of Liberty Enlightening the World," George began. "It was a gift from France to mark the centennial of the American Declaration of Independence. That date, July 4th, 1776, is inscribed on the tablet she is holding in her left hand. The torch in her right is a symbol of liberty and enlightenment to the world…Hence her name."
It became clear to Matthew in short order that not only had George's impromptu oration got his attention but that of a good number of passengers at the rail, many of whom he saw were hanging on his son's next words.
He smiled at the audience and said, "Did you learn anything else, George?" knowing the question would open the floodgates.
"Oh, yes, Father…much more," George replied in an excited tone.
"Go on then," Matthew implored him. "I'm eager to hear it."
That went over well with the attentive crowd and many smiled and tipped their heads in his direction.
George nodded his own, and after taking a few moments to gather his thoughts, enthusiastically launched into his findings.
"A French sculptor…I believe his name was Heinrich Bartholdi…No, that is not right," he said, pursing his lips in concentration for a few seconds and then correcting himself. "His Christian name was Frederick, not Heinrich. Frederick Bartholdi modeled the statue to resemble the Roman goddess of freedom, Libertas, and worked hand in hand with Alexandre Gustave Eiffel, the architect and engineer, who constructed the famous tower that bears his name."
"Quite a collaboration, wouldn't you say, Son?" Matthew piped in, giving George a moments respite to call up any other pertinent details from the recesses of his mind.
"It certainly was, Father," he replied. Then he pointed to the body of the monument and said, "The framework is made of steel and the outer layer, pounded copper sheets. They oxidized due to weather conditions, which is why the statue is green now, but that actually is a good thing as the coating acts as a form of protection so it won't deteriorate further."
George paused then and nudged JR, who stood to his right, and motioned to the crown atop Lady Liberty's head.
"There are 25 windows, which represent gemstones found on the Earth…and the rays shooting out of the top stand for the seven continents."
His neck craned back as far as possible, JR acknowledged George's statement with a nod and then said," I've seen photographs, but had no idea that the statue was so…so…."
"Gigantic?" Matthew interjected, grinning down at both boys.
"I'd say so," George concurred. "She measures 93 meters from the ground to the top of the torch and weighs 28 metric tons."
"One can only imagine her shoe size," Anna quipped, leading Mary, as well as some of the other women at the rail to chuckle with amusement.
Once the laughter died down, a stout woman standing a few feet away called out, "Young man, I am quite impressed by your ability to retain so much information. At first, I thought you were reading from notes but I can see now that is not the case."
George bowed his head in her direction and thanked her for the compliment before confirming that she was correct in that he was speaking from recall
At that, Matthew turned to Mary and found her beaming with the pride he felt as she addressed the passenger who had praised their eldest child.
"Our son has always had an excellent memory, even as a toddler. There were times when I would be reading one of his favorite bedtime stories or reciting a nursery rhyme to him and he would call out the next line or verse before I could get the words out of my mouth."
A vision of three-year old George dressed in a navy sailor suit that Cora had made especially for him popped into his head.
"Boy Blue, Papa….I want to hear Boy Blue," he had pleaded from his position on the edge of his bed in the nursery, his chubby legs swinging up into the air, then banging back against the mattress in rapid succession.
He had looked into his big blue eyes and felt his heart melt. No matter how badly his head ached from going over the house ledgers that morning, he could not deny his son the limerick about a young boy who was meant to look after the sheep but dozed off under a haystack.
It had not been the first time he had shared this particular rhyme with George and his gleeful response to it came as no surprise, but his son's rendering of the last two lines did. He heard them clearly now in the tiny voice that had long disappeared and he relished hearing it once more.
'Will you wake him?
No, not I
For if I do,
He's sure to cry.'
Matthew wondered at that moment if Mary could hear it, too, and hoped that was the case. Then he added to his wife's recollection by declaring, "I think he had 'Little Boy Blue' down pat right out of nappies."
At that, George's cheeks turned crimson and he immediately changed the subject.
"What do you think of Lady Liberty, Victoria?"
Caught up in his memories of George, Matthew had failed to notice how quiet his daughter had become since they had reached the monument. Curious as to why, he turned his attention to her and found her staring at the statue with her head cocked sideways and eyes open wide.
"First, you must promise me that you won't laugh, George," she began in reply to her brother's question. "I won't answer you if you don't promise."
Her response resulted in a few people nearby chuckling and Matthew giving George a look that made it clear he expected him to adhere to his sister's request.
George nodded his head, assuring her and their father that he would not make light of whatever she had to say, which, by the expression on their faces, pleased them both.
Victoria then flashed her brother a toothy grin, and said, "I know you'll think me silly, but Lady Liberty reminds me of Grandma Isobel. All sorts of people who want a better life come to see her, too."
Matthew's lips curled upward into a broad smile, which he saw mirrored on Mary's face as she brushed a hair that had escaped Victoria's braid and tucked it behind her ear.
George contemplated his sister's words for a moment and then without a trace of sarcasm said, "I don't think you are silly at all, Victoria. In fact, quite the opposite."
At that, Matthew's grin widened and he winked at George before leaning forward to speak directly to Victoria.
"You must tell your grandmother that you feel that way when you next see her, sweetheart. It will make her happy hear it. Very happy, indeed."
XX
If it weren't for the towering skyscrapers in the distance, Matthew found the Port of New York strongly resembled that of Southampton. The busy harbor was filled with freighters, ferries, sailboats, and tugs entering and departing it as well as what appeared to him to be a barge loaded with piles of refuse that was being followed closely by a cluster of seagulls.
He looked over the side, then, and found the small ship that had delivered the pilot to guide the Olympic to its berth keeping pace with the massive liner, appeared like a minnow swimming next to a whale. It reminded him that the liner was in the capable hands of someone who knew these waters well and that eased his mind considerably.
Blocking out the sun with his hand, he focused his eyes on the stream of smoke that rose upward from the massive funnels with the black stripe that distinguished the ship as one in the White Star fleet, as did its flags. They were all flying half-mast now in deference to those who had perished at sea.
He touched his lips with his index finger and cringed, recalling the hours he spent at this very rail blowing into a whistle in what felt like a bad dream.
How I wish it were, he silently bemoaned, lowering his head and bringing his hand back to the rail.
Then his eyes went blank as he pondered the fate of the men who had been rescued, especially that of Captain Bratwaithe. No matter how he tried, he could not erase the horrible vision of the lightship commander's head and face covered in bloodied bandages.
"Darling, what is it?" Mary said, laying her hand on his.
Startled by her touch, Matthew twitched before coming out of his self-induced trance.
He managed a weak smile and replied, "I was thinking of the crewmen that were rescued…wondering how they were fairing. That's all. I'm fine, Mary. Truly, I am."
Her eyes narrowed and she searched his face before letting out a long sigh. "I don't think you will be fine for a long while, Matthew. None of us will…especially the men who cheated death."
Matthew was about to respond but his words were cut off by the sound of the Olympic's horns - deep, steady blasts that were answered quickly by the honks and hoots of the tugs that surrounded her as well as other ships in the vicinity.
As the cacophony continued, the ship sailed passed a row of docked liners, slow enough for him to read the names emblazoned on their gigantic hulls: Hamburg, Normandie, Columbus, Bremen, DeGrasse, Monarch of Bermuda and Conte de Sonola.
The crowd at the rail cheered and waved as they moved from one massive ship to the next while the Olympic edged closer to Whitestar's Pier 54, where it would berth.
Swept up in the excitement, Matthew's concern for the lightship crew was overshadowed by the joy he derived from knowing he would soon have land under his feet.
XX
"Is that Rose?" Mary shouted, drowning out the hoopla taking place on deck.
"If you are referring to the woman with the red hat bobbing up and down behind the tall man in black, I think so, " Mathew roared back. Then he added, "Though I can't say for sure until she pops back up again. Give me a second or two to…Ahh...There she is, again. Oh my, I think she may have stepped on the woman's foot to her right as she is now bobbing up and down, too, and glaring in her direction. Wait a moment…Yes..I see blonde hair and…Rose…if that is Rose…is being lifted up into the air by Atticus ….I think that is Atticus. It certainly appears to be him from this distance, at least….and…Oops...She just knocked his hat off his head with her elbow."
"That has to Rose," Mary exclaimed and then began to laugh.
As the ship drew nearer to the dock, it became clear to Matthew, Mary and Anna that the woman in question was, in fact, the Crawley cousin with her husband in tow, politely pushing her way through the throng of people that awaited the passengers aboard the Olympic to disembark.
"Mary! Matthew!" Rose shouted, waving a white handkerchief back and forth above her head as she weaved between a heavy-set woman and broad-shouldered man with Atticus in tow.
"Rose!" Mary bellowed at the top of her lungs. "I see you, darling. Just stay put."
Matthew chuckled. "I see that time hasn't curbed her exuberance. She is still a live wire, and I'm glad to see it."
"I am, too," Mary cried out over the commotion.
His attention was so focused on the pier, that Matthew took little notice of the gloved hand tapping his shoulder until the woman wearing it called out his name.
Turning toward the sound, he found Mabel Foyle standing directly behind him and Mary with an awkward expression her face.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," she said, close enough to be heard above the chatter that filled the air "I didn't want us to part ways without my thanking Mary for convincing me to see Doctor Stevens. You see, if it weren't for her, I would think I'm suffering some awful virus instead of experiencing morning sickness."
Since it seemed Mabel had sought out his wife, Matthew remained silent and awaited her response, though he flashed Mabel a smile in response to her announcement.
Mary appeared bowled over by the news, the look of surprise on her face morphing quickly into a wide grin as she took hold of Mabel's hands and gushed, "How absolutely wonderful for you and Tony. I know I can speak for Matthew when I say that we couldn't be happier for you both and wish you all the best."
Matthew's smile remained firmly in place and he nodded his head in agreement while at the same time concluding that if Mary had not been destined to be the future Countess of Grantham, his wife could have made a good living on the stage.
She could have edged Claudette Colbert out for that BAFTA, he told himself as he witnessed a still wide-eyed Mary pull Mabel into an embrace and plant a congratulatory peck on her cheek.
Then he caught a glimpse of the expression on the mother-to-be's face.
Though initially appearing overjoyed, Mabel now appeared grim, making it clear to Matthew that she had not only sought him and his wife out to inform them of her pregnancy, The deep crease between Mary's brow told him that she had come to the same conclusion.
"What is it, dear?" she asked, placing her hand on Mabel's arm. "Did Doctor Stevens find something amiss with the pregnancy?"
Mabel quickly shook her head back and forth and responded that the physician said all was progressing as it should with the baby, and barring her stomach upset and a few bouts of lightheadedness, which were par for the course, he found her in perfect health.
"Thank God," he muttered, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.
His reaction came as a bit of surprise to him. Afterall, he had spent a very limited time with the Gillinghams in the last ten years and considered them nothing more than acquaintances. In fact, he could not recall any conversation of consequence that he had with either of them. That is, until they set sail for America together. He realized now that during the time they spent together in the past week, he had not only forged a bond with Tony but his wife as well. In fact, he had grown quite fond of Mabel. She was a bright woman with a charismatic personality and what Martha Levinson would call "chutzpah."
Seeing her so unhappy troubled him deeply, and he was determined to do what he could to ease her mind before they parted ways.
By now, he and Mary had mastered the art of silent conversation and he searched her eyes for guidance in how to proceed.
"Is there anything Mary and I can do to help you, Mabel? We both hate seeing you so forlorn."
She looked from him to Mary and back, and after a few rounds, her frown morphed into a smile.
"There is something…but I will not use my…um… condition….to manipulate either of you into doing something that would make you uncomfortable."
"What….?" Mary began, but was stopped short by Mabel.
"Tony told me that he behaved badly when he ran into you on deck while he was inebriated. He didn't go into any details… and I've decided that it is better that I don't hear any. What is done, is done," she said with a note of resignation in her voice. "I will not wallow in self-pity nor remain stuck in the past. It serves no good purpose. This baby is going to be born into a loving home, no matter how much of a fool Tony has made of himself. I will make sure of it "
Chutzpah. She has it in spades, Matthew reiterated in silence.
"In any event…," Mabel continued. "he has informed me that he is persona non grata in your lives now and in the foreseeable future. I understand why, and rest assured, he has every intention of honoring your wishes. It is just….Well, I was so looking forward to Gertrude and Victoria getting together in the near future and with the new baby coming, I thought that perhaps Mary and I…,"
She stopped speaking then, took a few steps back and sighed.
Confident that Mary was able to speak his mind as well as her own, he cleared his throat and nodded his head in her direction.
"Is there something besides our reconciling with your husband that we can do to ease your mind? We cannot in good conscience allow his behavior to go unchecked but at the same time, neither of us want to see you or your daughter alienated because of his faux pas."
Mabel nodded and smiled. "That is what I was hoping you would say, Mary…and if it isn't asking too much, I would like to go ahead with the plans we made for the girls to visit with one another…and if I am fortunate enough to be blessed with a healthy baby, my hope is that you and Matthew will attend his or her Christening. It would be some time off and by then, perhaps, you two will find it in your hearts to tolerate a social gathering that would include Tony. Your presence would mean a great deal to me."
Now it was Mary who looked into his eyes for an answer, though he could not give it to her as quickly as she had given him hers.
Will seven or eight months away from Gillingham be long enough for me to be tolerate him being in close proximity for a few hours without my stomach hurling?
As he contemplated the answer to his question, Matthew saw that Mabel was wringing her hands and Mary's shoulders were hunched so high that they nearly reached her ears.
If you can stand it, I can, darling, he said without uttering a sound.
Mary turned to Mabel and smiled. "I would love to have Gertrude come to Downton soon and I hope that you will accompany her. I am curious to see what you think of the gown I've chosen for the Branson wedding. It's a Hartnell original. As for the rest, Matthew and I would be happy to attend your baby's baptism. You can count on our being there."
XX
"I am very happy to have made your acquaintance," a weary-looking Officer Murdoch said and smiled before taking hold of Anna's hand and bringing it to his lips.
Matthew could see the blush rise on her face and did his best to hide his amusement while he and Mary in line to bid the officer farewell.
"I dare say you will be the only happy memory that I take with me from this voyage and I am grateful to you for it," Murdoch added, his smile evaporating as he caught sight of the news crew that had gathered near the bow of the ship.
Following the officer's line of vision, Matthew saw a tall man a wearing a trench coat speaking into a microphone. The man looked familiar to him and he concentrated hard on matching the face with a name, but his effort was cut short by Mary tugging on his arm.
"Anna is half-way down the gangway with the children, darling, and we are holding up the line."
"Sorry," he muttered, taking one last look at the man he was trying to identify before looping his arm through Mary's and making haste.
Reaching the first officer, he held out his hand to him and inquired after Captain Binks, who was nowhere in sight.
Murdoch advised him that the captain had to leave the ship to provide the press with an interview regarding the collision.
"He had no choice in the matter," he said glumly. "His presence was mandated by White Star," he added and pointed to where the captain stood on the dock.
Following his direction, Matthew found Captain Braithwaite standing beside Binks in front of what appeared to be a movie camera. Taking in the scene, he saw that the lightship commander's head was still bandaged, though it appeared unstained from this distance.
The sight made his blood pressure rise and he spat out, "What the devil? That poor man should be in the hospital resting in bed, not on his feet being bombarded with questions by a hoarde of screaming strangers."
"I'm sure Captain Binks will be sure they don't keep him long, orders or not," the first officer replied, his eyes fixed on the two captains. Then he returned his attention to Matthew and said, "I did thank you for your help, didn't I Mr. Crawley? So much has happened in such a short time that I can't seem to keep track of it all."
Matthew took stock in the man standing before him and was saddened at how little he resembled the carefree bachelor that had danced the night away with Anna.
"I know exactly what you mean," he replied. I, too, have had some lapses in memory…but I do recall your thanking me, Officer Murdoch, and I am glad to have the opportunity to thank you for allowing me to play a role in the rescue operation, as meager as it was. The success of that mission was all down to you, and I commend you for it. There is no doubt in my mind that the members of the lightship crew that survived owe their lives to you."
"No doubt," Mary chimed in. "Your quick decisions and calm under pressure saved the day. I know my mind was eased considerably knowing that you had the situation in hand. Captain Binks must be quite pleased with you," she added with a smile.
Officer Murdoch's drooping shoulders rose upward along with the corners of his mouth before he confirmed Mary's supposition, stating that the commander was satisfied that all that could be done had been. Then he thanked her and her husband for their kind words and wished them "smooth sailing" from here on out.
XX
"Farson…That is Negley Farson behind the microphone," Matthew blurted upon reaching the end of the gangway.
Appearing thoroughly confused by her husband's outburst, Mary exclaimed, "Who? Whatever do you mean?"
"That man near the bow of the ship who is speaking into the microphone is Negley Farson. He is a foreign correspondent for the Chicago Daily News…renowned for his interview with Gandhi that took place in Bombay in 1922 and his coverage of the Salt March in 1930."
Seeing the quizzical expression on both Mary and Anna's faces, Matthew explained that the Crown had kept India's salt trade under its thumb by forbidding natives from manufacturing or selling the mineral, instead forcing them to buy it at high cost from British merchants. Gandhi led a large group of Indians in a march that lasted 24 days to protest the salt laws, ending with his denouncing them as an 'inexcusable evil' and breaking each one.
"There were 80,000 people arrested for civil disobedience and according to Mr. Negley's report, many were beaten by the police, although Gandhi was spared because our government feared the public outcry. Tom was ecstatic when he learned of it and he brought the news to my attention. He went on and on about India's endeavors to free itself of Colonial rule."
He caught sight of Rose again, then, now situated in the front row of the large crowd that had come to meet the ship with Atticus at her side, gazing at her lovingly and grinning from ear to ear.
"I would imagine Tom heralding Mr. Gandhi's efforts did not sit well with Shrimpie," Mary said, waving her hand in her cousin's direction.
Matthew nodded his head and chuckled before he replied. "Let's just say that I found myself to be the arbitrator in more than one spirited debate between our beloved brother-in-law and Rose's father."
Mary let out a long sigh and lamented the number of times that he had been put in that position in the last 20 years.
"No doubt there have been moments when you wished you had never left Manchester," she teased.
He winked at Anna, who had turned to hear his response as they waited for the family of five that were blocking their way to move forward, and replied, "At least three that I can recall when your mother and Violet were battling."
Mary chuckled and said, "Three? Is that all?"
Matthew laughed heartily and then grew solemn. "Truth be told, there has been only one moment in the last 20 years when I wished I had not left Manchester and that was when you refused to accept my proposal…the day the Great War started and our engagement ended. At that moment, I wished I had never come to Downton, as the thought of my living my life without you at my side was too much to bear."
Mary and Anna sighed in unison and he shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
"They're finally moving, Anna," Victoria shouted, bringing the three adults back to the present.
"Can we go now?"
"Yes….please let's move on, Mother" JR chimed in. "I can't wait to see New York."
"Neither can I," George bellowed.
"After you, Anna," Matthew said, gesturing for her to lead the way. "We'll be right behind you."
XX
The passengers disembarking the ship would pass Captain Binks and the survivors of the lightship collision on the dock as they made their way to the White Star Terminal. In a hurry to collect their luggage and begin the next leg of their journey, most of the men and women coming off the gangway only gave them a cursory glance.
Matthew did not follow suit.
He stopped short once he was within hearing distance of what he considered an interrogation instead of a news conference. Captain Binks, Braithwaite and three of his crew were knee deep in news reporters, who were shooting questions at them like canon fire with the interview being filmed for posterity by British Pathe.
"It all happened so quickly that we were in the water before we knew it," declared a tall seaman with dark wavy hair, wearing a pale blue collared shirt and ill-fitting pants that clearly were not his own.
Matthew had been informed that the lightship's first mate, radio operator and oiler were among the survivors and wondered which he was. It was impossible to tell without proper uniforms.
No matter, he and his fellow crewmen appeared tired and anxious as they addressed the barrage of questions that came their way.
"I've already given you a full account of the accident. Don't keep him too long. He is injured." Captain Binks said brusquely.
That brought Matthew's head around and he nodded in Binks' direction before turning his eyes on Captain Braithwaite, who appeared quite unwell, the skin not covered by bandages nearing the color of his moustache.
Still, the questions kept coming, the journalist's lack of compassion infuriating him.
"Captain Braithwaite, do you agree with Captain Binks' account of the accident? Do you believe, as he has said, that he did all he could to avoid the collision?"
"Yes, I do. I have nothing more to say about it now," the injured man replied in a choked voice.
Hearing his plea, Matthew jumped into action, racing toward the news crew with fire in his eyes.
"See here, this man was nearly killed when his ship was cut in half and clearly has a head injury that requires attention. Have a heart man," he demanded, standing toe to toe with the tenacious news correspondent.
"I'm just doing my job, Sir," the lanky reporter shot back with his camera lowered. "No harm intended."
"Whether you intend it or not, you are causing it," Matthew replied, not backing down from his position. "Captain Binks has given you a clear account of the collision and the Nantucket's crewmen can confirm its accuracy. For God's sake, let their commander return to the hospital," he demanded.
"I see you still are defending the downtrodden, Cousin Matthew," rang out to his right in a distinctly feminine voice, resulting in the interview coming to an abrupt halt as the men conducting it turned their attention to the attractive blonde at his side.
He turned quickly and seeing the lovely vision in red before him, broke into a wide grin.
"Rose! You are a sight for sore eyes," he said and pulled her into an embrace.
"As are you, Matthew," she replied. "My heart was in my throat when White Star made the announcement that the Olympic was delayed due to a collision. Fortunately, they added quickly that the ship suffered minimal damage and no passengers were injured. Thank God you all are safe."
He saw Atticus over her shoulder then kissing Mary on the cheek and Victoria hopping in place and beckoning him. Knowing there was little else he could do for the two Captains, he waved to his daughter and called out, "We're coming," hoping that would settle her down a bit.
Releasing Rose, his eyes went back to the two commanders and he saw Captain Binks leading his counterpart back to the ship, thereby putting an effective end to any further filming.
"Well done," she said, patting him on the back. "I'm sure that poor man appreciates your speaking up on his behalf."
"Thank you for your kind words, my dear. I just wish I could have done more for him," he replied solemnly, his gut wrenching as he saw Braithwaite was leaning heavily on Binks on their way up the gangway. He sighed before adding in a much more upbeat tone, "However, seeing as I cannot…, I think it is time that you and I return to our respective spouses. You know that patience isn't one of your cousin's virtues and no doubt Atticus is wondering what is keeping you. Besides, I fear if we don't get moving, my daughter will soon come tearing across the pier and wind up in the harbor."
At that, Rose began to chuckle and motioned for him to lead the way.