It seems I'm cleaning out the cobwebs and doing some much needed updating, lol. It's about time, too. This one has been sitting for far too long. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading and reviewing...

Chapter Thirteen

Sunday Prayer

A half an hour later I sat in front of my dressing table looking at myself. I looked completely normal except for the high spots of color on my cheeks. I couldn't get Cal's outburst out of my mind. I had never seen him so erratic, so possessive. It frightened me and yet even in my fear I had no where to turn to in hopes of escape.

Trudy tapped on the door and stepped inside, a smile on her kind face. "It'll be time for services soon, Miss. Are you ready to dress now?"

I stared at my reflection a moment longer and then turned away. I didn't want to look at myself anymore. "Yes," I answered and stood. I slid the dressing gown from my shoulders and handed it to her.

"Which will it be, ma'am?"

"The blue velvet, the one I had made before we sailed."

"Yes, ma'am. That one's lovely to be sure," she smiled and removed the dress from the wardrobe.

Trudy and I had long ago settled into the routine and ritual of dressing me. There were no need for words, we both knew what had to be done. I stepped into the corset and took hold of one the posters of the bed for support as she began to pull on the strings, tightening them with each tug.

There was a soft click of the door and my mother came sweeping in. "Tea, Trudy," she clipped as we both turned to her.

"Yes, ma'am," Trudy responded quickly. She knew my mother's tone and it wasn't wise to even hesitate.

Mother closed the door behind Trudy's retreating form and turned to me. Without a word, she strode over to me and lifted the strings of the corset and began pulling in hard, jerky movements. I could tell she was upset and there was only one reason I could think of. Cal had told her of Jack and what I had done the night before. I gripped the bedpost harder as she continued to pull and jerk on the corset strings.

"You're not to see that boy again. Do you understand me?"

Of course I understood, how could I not, I thought bitterly. I had broken the cardinal rule by even associating with him. When I didn't respond she raised her voice in displeasure. "Rose, I forbid it."

"Oh, stop it, Mother. You'll give yourself a nose bleed," I spouted before I could catch myself. Having already been castigated by Cal's harshness, her callous demeanor was like pouring salt into my wound. Suddenly, she grabbed me and spun me around. Her face was cold and unsympathetic and her words like steel.

"This is not a game. Our situation is precarious. You know the money's gone."

"Of course I know it's gone. You remind me everyday," I retorted. I had heard this speech more times than I cared to think about.

"Your father left us nothing but a legacy of debts hidden by a good name. That name is the only card we have to play," she paused for a moment to stare coldly at me. "I don't understand you. It's a fine match with Hockley. It will ensure our survival."

Our survival… those words pierced me. "How can you put this on my shoulders?" I asked, hurt by her refusal to see how unhappy I was. Why couldn't she see what this was doing to me?

"Why are you being so selfish?" she snapped.

"I'm being selfish?" I gasped in the face of her audacity. Then I saw my mother's hard façade crumble. Her features took on a haunted, fearful look.

"Do you want to see me working as a seamstress? Is that what you want? To see our fine things sold at auction… our memories scattered to the wind." Her voice broke and grabbed her mouth, turning from me.

No, I didn't want to see that happen, but there was something so infinitely wrong with what I was being forced to do. Why couldn't she see that?

"It's so unfair," I sighed wearily. She turned back to me then and I saw the desolation in her eyes.

"Of course it's unfair, we're women. Our choices are never easy," she said and I saw the hopelessness of not only my situation, but hers. She saw me as her way out and I had to carry that mantle whether I wanted to or not.

As she looked at me, her face softened and she stepped forward, taking my face in her hands. She kissed me softly on the cheek, urging me to be a good girl and do as I was told and what was expected of me. She slowly turned me around and began fitting me back in the corset.

I lowered my head, lost in the silence of my torment.

Services that morning were held in the dining salon and I stood between Cal and Mother as we sang. Captain Smith gave a wonderful sermon but my mind kept wandering in spite of my attempts to listen.

I thought of Jack even though I shouldn't have. He had such life and spirit about him, a quick wit and easy smile, too. How I longed to be like him, to talk to him once more but that was simply out of the question. If I had any doubt of the route my life was to take, the reactions from both Cal and Mother had clearly defined them for me.

"I hope you are listening, dear. I wouldn't want the Captain to think you weren't paying attention to him," Cal said quietly next to me. I turned to him and saw the knowing look in his eye. I smiled sweetly to mask my aversion of him and turned my attention back to the Captain.

After services, we had a light brunch in the Cafe Parisien. We were joined by Mr. Andrews, Mr. and Mrs. Carter and Mr. Ismay.

I sat quietly listening to them talk around me. Every now and then Cal would reach over and take my hand, kissing it softly. Everyone smiled at his show of affection but I knew that's what it was, a show. There was no emotion behind the action and I was not moved by it in any way.

Mr. Andrews must have sensed my melancholy. His kind eyes were watching me keenly as he suggested a tour of the boat deck and wheelhouse. "It's a lovely day, Miss Rose. Perhaps the air will do you good."

"That's a splendid idea," Cal beamed. "Shall we, sweetpea?"

Mr. Andrews smiled at me and I found myself agreeing. "That would be lovely," I said.

The tour started on the port bow and continued until we reached the wheelhouse. Several officers, including Captain Smith were busily monitoring the complicated gauges and switches when we entered. Mr. Andrews eagerly began showing us the intricate panels and explaining how each one would work.

Cal strolled over to the large, square cut windows to peer outside. I stood next to mother as Mr. Andrews continued with his talk.

"As you can see, it's all quite fascinating," Captain Smith lightly teased when Mr. Andrews concluded. "However, it is a quite an accomplishment and I have never sailed a more sound vessel."

"That's a comfort to know," Mother said with assurance. "And why do you have two steering wheels?"

"We really only use this near shore," Mr. Andrews pointed out.

A young steward entered at that moment and handed Captain Smith a thin slip of paper. "Excuse me, sir, another ice warning. This one from the Nordam."

"Thank you, Sparks," the Captain intoned as the young man then turned away. Obviously, the captain noted our looks of concern which he quickly to put rest. "Oh, not to worry, quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we're speeding up. I've just ordered the last boilers lit."

Satisfied with his answer, Mother and Cal expressed their desire to continue on and so we did. I, however, couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. But, who was I to question the captain's knowledge and experience? If he wasn't concerned, then neither should I be, I concluded. I took Cal's arm as we left the wheelhouse and made our way down to the boat deck.