LETTERS
"Dear Will;
"I am safe and sound now, in a charming little hotel that's away from the hype of the reporters and all the media. I think if I appeared with the rest of survivors the media would react like vultures zeroing in on a kill and possibly harm some of the innocent people in a feeding frenzy. Plus their hardship has been difficult and I do not want to take attention off of them.
"By the end of the week, I will be taking off for Halifax. There was a telegram from my father awaiting me and he requested that I take the 3:30 train up north. It will be another long journey to there, but as I'm looking forward to seeing my brothers and father again, I will not mind it. It means a week of traveling on a train, but after ships, I feel more comfortable on land, as I'm sure that you do!
"I do not mean to insinuate that ships aren't lovely, nor do I blame the disaster on you at all. Things happen and you musn't blame yourself for it. It is easy to fall into self-recrimination but not easy to get out of the habit.
"All that time in an open boat in the wee morning hours while bodily resistance is low has given me a devil of a cold! I have not been able to rise from my bed this past morning because I am so congested. My throat hurts like hell and I just wish that my cold would pass faster!
"I will soldier on, my friend. If you or your officer friends need anything, please don't hesitate.
"Fondly, Emilia Audrey Frances Worthington."
"Dear Emilia;
"I am in receipt of your letter from two days ago and I am happy that you're out of the glare of the media. I do not know how to describe what it felt like to run the gauntlet of their flashbulbs and camera lenses every time we go down to the boardroom of the hotel to testify!
"Then again, maybe you already know what it's like. I almost forgot who I was writing to for a moment. I don't care for the shouting and all of that, but I do know that it is wearing on me and the other officers. Charles is putting up with it the best he can, and Harold has a bit of a temper on him when provoked. One of the reporters got too bold and even though I forget what the circumstances were, Lowe left him no room for doubt as what would have happened if we were all in England.
"Sounds like Harold doesn't it? He's very even-tempered for an officer, though he's Welsh, he does have a few triggers which just set him off. We all do.
"Joseph is still sick in the hospital. He's got some sort of infection in his lungs and the poor man cannot testify just yet. He's bedridden at the moment and I went to see him last night. Joe was amused by the fact that you are ill at this time as well and begs me to remember him to you.
"I am very sorry to hear that you have a bad cold and I hope you can make it on your train to go up north. I do not believe that I have ever been to Halifax and would like to make it up there sometime.
"Rest well my friend and keep taking it easy. You'd be surprised at how well that helps.
"Closing for now, Will Murdoch."
"Dear Will;
"I'm writing this on the train now and I hope you can read my writing, as it is not a very smooth journey.
"It's just as well that this trip is a week long as my cold still has not dissipated and I find myself getting irritated about it. There is no reason for irritation, but still, it's human nature to be irritated or mad about something that you cannot control. Last night I had a little fever and spent the night in the hospital car, but that was nothing to be worried about. It was caused by my boarding the train. Fortunately the fever part disappeared this morning and I was allowed to go to my stateroom.
"Tell Joe I remember him fondly and I wish him to get well as soon as possible. I've been following the inquiry through the newspapers I am able to get. Charles seems to be holding up reasonably well. I understand he's a good close friend of yours and I know he'll defend you to the end as you no doubt will to him.
"Just remember that it was nobody's fault, an accident, and it's moot point now to discuss how it could have been prevented.
"I support you and the others, though I have a little plan which I hope will help you all. I understand that you'll be taken down to Washington to be interrogated all over again?
"Must close for now. Fondly, EAF Worthington."
"Dear EAF;
"Yes, we are to be carted down to Washington like a herd of cattle being taken to market. Lights and I are frustrated with the entire farce-that's what it is here-and we are aching to get home. What is this little plan that you speak of?
"I can wait though. I'm a bit worried about Charles-he's not thrilled with our situation, who would be? The stress seems to be getting through to him as he's losing a bit of weight. I'm the senior surviving officer, therefore I'm taking most of the stress, but I think Lights is just eager to get home and the questions just reawaken the nightmare of that night. He doesn't say much but the emotional stress is definitely getting to him.
"Fingers crossed that we will be home soon. Charles wants to see his wife Sylvia, I want to see my wife Ada. I never asked if you were married or not? Don't answer if you don't want to.
"Joe has finally rejoined us. The poor lad looks pale and so fragile he'd bruise or break if the wind blows hard. Like the rest of us officers, he's a stoic chap and it takes a lot to knock him down. He testified for one day in New York and honestly he should not have done it. He looks completely drained and he's been sleeping a lot lately since he was discharged.
"To be perfectly frank, we are all sleeping a lot. Those first few nights after the disaster nobody could sleep without nightmares, but as time passes by, the dreams begin to fade little by little. Are you still having dreams about that night?
"Do tell what your pet project is now. Knowing you, you can't hold still for very long!
"Fondly, Will Murdoch."
Copy of the Halifax Chronicle, sent to Will Murdoch:
"HEIRESS CONDUCTS AUCTION TO BENEFIT TITANIC VICTIMS.
"Miss Emilia Worthington, a relation to the Queen, has announced that on the Titanic she saved her jewelry box which is filled with one-of-a-kind pieces that were not for sale at any time before the disaster. The young princess and heiress of the Worthington mining and jewelry industry announced yesterday that she would be putting the jewelry she wore on the Titanic up for auction to benefit the survivors.
"Among the pieces are a two tier bracelet, daisy diamond earrings, and even her own personal tiara designed by the princess herself. Each piece comes with its own certificate of authenticity clarifying the fact that it was designed by the princess and is a one-of-a-kind piece.
"Invitations were sent out for the auction and the response has been great. Prince Stephen has announced that he is most pleased with his daughter's generosity, he applauded her spirit, and hoped a monetary gift would help ease the survivors' pain at least a little bit. He has said that though money would not bring the victims back, the money could at least help with material matters.
"The Worthington family send their deepest respects and condolences to the victims of the Titanic and will pray for them tonight."
"Dear Emilia;
"Charles Lightoller here. Murdoch gave me permission to write to you, I hope you don't mind. We received a cut from your auction of the jewels and I wanted to thank you very much. I was able to replace my wardrobe I lost on the ship and send a considerable amount home to my wife to help out with our children.
"Will is quite happy-he sent home an amount to Ada (his wife), and his wardrobe was replaced as well. He tells me that you are or were sick with a bad cold and I send you my kindest regards and hope that you are well.
"It appears that a certain Mr. Hockley has been mired down in scandal since you and he left New York. Since the death of his fiancee, he has been involved in several local mistresses and because of his prominence, you can imagine how scandalized the reaction was. His father Nathaniel had been made aware of his son's promiscuity and promptly banned his son from leaving the estate until he is cured of his apparent sexual addiction.
"Rumors began to circulate about that pompous ass, how his fiancee was marrying him only for his money and he was marrying her just to inherit the family fortune.
"I can tell you from experience that if you marry for love, your life will be enriched in so many ways. If you do decide to marry, for love it must be or it will never work. I look at my wife when I'm home and I can see how lucky I am.
"With my kindest regards and sincere gratitude, Charles Herbert Lightoller."
"Dear your royal highness Princess Emilia;
"Forgive me for intruding on your time like this, but I am Mary Wilde, Henry Wilde's sister. I was wondering if you could tell me anything of his final moments on the Titanic. From the newspapers, you had contact with all of the officers.
"Thank you for the gift of the money we received from your jewelry sale. It will help us through this hard time very much.
"I can be reached at the address below.
"Thank you very much, Mary Wilde."
"Dear Mary Wilde;
"You are very welcome and I know it does not bring Henry back, but I hope it eases some financial worries from your mind. The auction was a raging success but I wish I had been able to do more.
"From what I can recall, Henry was casually standing by once all the boats had gone, prepared to go down with the ship. He had done his duty very well up until the end, and the last time I remember seeing him was shaking hands with Murdoch goodbye, wishing him luck, and he walked off.
"I know it is not much from my own recollection, but it seems he went down with the ship. I discussed with Harold Lowe on your behalf, asking if he saw Henry's body in the water when he went back, and Mr. Lowe stated that he did not. At least Henry was spared the icy hypothermia which those poor souls suffered.
"I am so sorry for bringing you such news and I can only pray that time will help heal your family. I know that wherever Henry is now he is looking after his children and family.
"With my sincerest condolences and well wishes, Emilia Worthington."
"Dear Emilia;
"We finally get to go home today! All of us officers including Ismay are boarding one of our old vessels of the White Star Line in order to get home. Ismay, the little snot, has barricaded himself in his room and does not come out at all. There are a significant number of survivors on board and I hear remarks that the man is too cowardly to come out and try to comfort the distraught. Personally, what can he do? I don't like him, but he is in an awkward position.
"I am not defending the coot; he jumped aboard one of the boats and survived. I try to see this in a nonbiased light. The ship was sinking, he wanted to live, and it is human nature to do anything to survive.
"At any rate, it is all moot point now anyway. We cannot change the past, we can live in the present and sculpt the future.
"How are you, Emilia? I heard that Charles wrote a letter to you but he hasn't heard back yet. Keeping busy are you?
"Fondly, Will Murdoch."
"Dear Will and Charles;
"It seems to me like there aren't enough hours in the day to get things done around here, so a joint letter seems to suffice for my purpose.
"I have been extremely busy for the past 2 weeks. You all know that my auction went off very successfully and my staff on my jewelry lines are very excited for my new nautical line of jewels. There have been meetings galore, discussing the type of stones we want to use, all of that. I don't get to bed until after midnight most nights, but my hard work will pay off when the new line launches in London when I get back to the UK.
"That won't be for another two weeks at best, as I've bought a ticket for the Celtic which is leaving at the end of next week. My father had me helping my brothers at doing random work in order to get the newest jewelry shop and mines operational by the deadline.
"We have mined a lot of gold. Charles, sound familiar?
"Canada is plentiful for what we need, I'm entranced by the amethyst and tourmaline that we have found. Sometimes the stone itself in it's purest unrefined form can inspire me to draw out the best way to cut it to show the brilliance. A lot of the pieces I design are spur-of-the-moment inspiration.
"My signature piece for the new nautical collection is a lighthouse. We are using black onyx, white diamonds(cubic zirconia for the affordable line), and red garnets. I love lighthouses and have always been entranced by them.
"Must dash, I have another meeting to get to. Look for me to arrive in London around the end of July.
"Truly yours, EAF Worthington."
FROM HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE STEPHEN DANIEL ALAN WORTHINGTON TO WILLIAM MCMASTER MURDOCH:
"Dear Mr. Murdoch;
"My daughter Emilia has informed me about your duty aboard ship and your service to her along with your fellow officers aboard the Titanic. I have been told that you helped to save her life when the unfortunate disaster happened, and I very humbly thank you for your efforts.
"Emilia has been a boisterous individual since she was very small. Her mother tried to curb her in that respect, but with two brothers and a sister, the propensity for being loud in a large family outweighs a lot of things! I feared this loudness about her might turn you and your brother officers off of her but to my relief, you did not. She doesn't act like a proper lady and many male suitors her mother had lined up did not like Emilia's boisterous nature, so you might see why I did fret a bit.
"Emilia has a compassionate heart and a generous nature, learned from her mother and me, and I was proud of her for selling off her one-of-a-kind jewelry to help the survivors and victims of the disaster.
"Again, I thank you and your officer friends very much. My daughter is a rare gem herself and I'm sure you know as a devoted father, I allow her leeway in her life, but the parent in me always frets whether she is in danger. I am very glad that she had you and your colleagues to turn to.
"I wish you all the best Mr. Murdoch. If you should need any help for any reason, please do not hesitate to call upon me.
"Sincerely, Stephen Daniel Alan Worthington."
"Dear Emilia;
"I've had the most wonderful letter from your father and though I have not had time to write him back, I'm enclosing a small note along with this letter.
"I've been back at sea since late May after we got done with the British hearings into the disaster. Charles and I backed each other up, knowing that there was no point in blaming one person or even many, just as long as lessons are learned and this does not happen again. We avoided pointing blame at anybody, even that arrogant snot Ismay. On the voyage home, he just locked himself away and didn't socialize. Many thought he was too arrogant to talk to us, but Lights and I thought differently. Ismay was very publicly shamed and branded with new monikers, none of them pleasant, and he has what some doctors call survivor's guilt. Charles theorized that Ismay didn't know how to approach any other survivors and kept himself secluded. I agreed and does that make any sense to you?
"At any rate, I'm off on the Celtic until Christmas to do the old Australian run, so I will be home with Ada. If you are back in the UK during that time, please drop on by as Ada will be thrilled to meet you.
"Time to go on shift now so I will close by saying I hope I hear from you soon and my warmest regards to your entire family.
"Will."
"Dear Will;
"My father received your note, then he read it with a big smile on his face. He and I are coming back to the UK around the second of December. Things have been going very well on the industrial front, I've gotten many people here jobs and they are working away happily, being able to provide for their families gets them motivated easily.
"I'm going home on the Adriatic which will be setting sail quite soon from here in Halifax, so I may beat this letter home, I don't know!
"Once you return from the Australia run, you should be back in time for my gala unveiling of the new Lighthouse jewelry collection by yours truly! I will send you and your wife, plus all the families of merchant marine officers invitations to the event. My father and I are devising little gift bags for the occasion and they have surprises in them for everyone.
"Here's hoping you, Ada, Charles and Sylvia can come! Boxhall, Lowe and Pitman have all RSVP'd.
"Yours, EAF."
DECEMBER 20, 1912
Charles Lightoller, William Murdoch, Ada Murdoch, and Sylvia Lightoller presented their tickets to the doorman at the gala party thrown by Emilia Worthington. The 4 people were duly admitted, dressed in all their finery.
Lightoller and Murdoch wore their best suits, Lightoller was wearing dark blue and Murdoch was in dark brown. The ladies were a little more extravagant in their elaborate updos with modest jewelry and a feather plume in their hair.
"Come on now, let's mingle!" Lightoller, ever the comfortable one in society, led Sylvia on his arm and they began to dance carefully. Murdoch did likewise and the couples began a waltz.
Emilia parted the stage curtain to peer out over the assembled gathering all participating in a fancy waltz and smiled. She let the curtain fall, not quite ready for her stage debut just yet. The princess's overly fussy makeup lady had gotten onto Emilia's last nerve and trying to disguise her frustration, suggested that the lady take an early night. More than capable of applying her own makeup, she chased off the lady and picked up her eyeliner.
"Oh, damn!" she swore as she accidentally stabbed herself in the eye. A sound of laughter permeated the backstage area.
"Come now my precious daughter, language like that is most unbecoming." a man with a walrus mustache, broad features, jet black hair tinged with gray made his way towards her.
Prince Stephen had a strong jawline which his sons had inherited, a well built physique, piercing blue eyes that were intelligent beyond his years. The patriarch of the Worthington family had an aquiline nose, lines of good humor around his eyes, and an aura of good naturedness. Stephen put his hands on his daughter's shoulders and turned her so that she faced the mirror, not sitting at an angle like she was previously.
Emilia finished putting on her eyeliner and looked up, her eyes had a faint silver streak around the upper lids which brought out her skin and hair.
"Oh Daddy, since when do you care?" she teased, smoothing her skirts out. Stephen put a small box on the vanity with a little thud, appraising his daughter as he stood behind her. Emilia glanced up at her father then eyed herself in the mirror critically.
"You know, your mother has always looked forward to this moment, seeing you all dolled up at a public event," Stephen opened the small box and pulled out Emilia's new tiara, settling it on her head and anchoring it down with pins. It was more elaborate than the last one she had worn previously, bigger and more gilded with tiny diamonds. "pity it couldn't be tonight."
"Well, she's off with my precious sister in Hillingham right now," Emilia uncapped a lipstick tube and leaning forward, carefully drawing on lipstick. "the good daughter." she couldn't keep a small tinge of bitterness out of her thoughts as she contemplated her sister briefly.
Sarah Elizabeth Farthing Worthington was of a sweet and docile nature, she inherited her mother's dark blonde hair and brown eyes and also much of her temperament. The two sisters were as different as night and day, but when they grew up, both grew estranged from each other as time wore on.
"Your mother loves all of you and wants one of you at least to grow in her own image. Between you and Sarah, your mother chose her because she has a lot of your mother's temperament. You know how you tried your mother's patience when you were younger. I think your mother is just mad that out of four children, one turned out like her."
Emilia laughed as she pulled on a small ruby bracelet and put in similar teardrop earrings. "Your influence, Daddy." Sarah was always on the sidelines when they were growing up, watching Emilia not care about image, roughhousing with her two brothers. Stephen would encourage them all in their play fighting as long as it didn't get rough.
"That's right. Come along now, it's time for the official reveal. All your friends are here tonight." Stephen took her hand and guided her up, appraising her with his eyes. "It won't be long before some gentleman is catching your fancy and you won't need your old dad anymore."
"Nobody will take your place, Dad," they stood before the closed curtain and gave the signal to part it. "Come on, let's dazzle 'em!"
"Ladies and gentlemen!" the MC announced grandly. "Presenting his royal highness Stephen Daniel Alan and his daughter, the charming Princess Emilia Audrey Frances Worthington!" the curtain drew back, prompting Murdoch and Lightoller's jaws to drop open.
Stephen was wearing his black plush suit with shined shoes and a gray ascot, looking very noble in his posture and bearing. He nodded graciously at the applause and waved over the audience with a big grin on his face.
It was Emilia who drew the gasps from the officers. From her royal wardrobe on Titanic, she had really glamored herself up for the occasion. The princess had her hair rolled up into a French twist, ruby teardrop earrings dangled from her ears, matching a simple ruby bracelet on her left wrist. Her dress was ruby red to complement the jewels, the dress had dropped sleeves and a very deep neckline. The neckline was embroidered with golden colored thread, around the waist was a black sash tied over the left side, both ends trailing down a few inches.
"She's lovely." Sylvia breathed, entranced. Emilia's skirts were full as she had to wear a few petticoats in order to get the fullness. Her tiara caught the light and glittered, and she wore a necklace that had a pendant of a lighthouse on it.
"Thank you, everyone," Stephen acknowledged the applause. "my beautiful daughter Emilia has a few surprises for you all. Darling?"
"Thank you, Father," she only called him Dad in private. "ladies and gentlemen, I have brought you all here tonight to give you a preview of my newest jewelry collection named the Lighthouse. This has a high end line and a more affordable line," she walked over to the table and pulled off the sheet covering the display. "I was inspired by the Titanic and the officers who sailed on her to create something as everlasting and timeless like the majesty of those great ships. What I am wearing now is my signature piece, the lighthouse. I've been entranced by these lonely structures and struck by how symbolic they are. A lighthouse is a beacon of light, there to guide you from danger and give you confidence in your time of need. It is simply black onyx or smoky quartz done in either gold or silver. The light part is yellow garnet."
Emilia introduced several more pieces, a ship's wheel either done in diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, or rubies, or the ship's wheel could be set in plain silver or gold with a small chip diamond on the tips of the steering handles. The same options could be applied to an anchor, a buoy, or even a cluster of three small cylinders meant to look like a pier. A seagull, a fish, and other nautical paraphenalia were introduced with affordable and more luxurious options.
"There you have it, ladies and gentlemen," Emilia concluded. "and now let's continue our dancing and live this night to the fullest! The gift bags will be handed to you on your way out."
The rest of the night passed without any incident. Emilia managed to snag a dance with each Murdoch and Lightoller, then she managed a dance with all of the surviving officers. When she was dancing with Murdoch, she looked at him in the eye, seeing his strength and genuine affection for her. She knew that he was seeing the same in her eyes, and a new feeling came over her at that moment. Her mind flashed her a picture of the two of them together on the bow of a ship as the sun set, their hands joined. Murdoch was a dependable and loyal man, as he'd already proved, and Emilia found herself thinking what it would be like to be married to a man like him.
It was a funny feeling and one that she'd never had before, so she had to ignore it for the time being. Murdoch didn't notice and she didn't have that feeling when she danced with the other officers. Lightoller made her laugh, Lowe and Boxhall told her a little about their lives, and Pitman joked around with her.
At the close of the evening, in addition to the gift bags, Emilia presented Nellie Lowe, Sylvia Lightoller, and Ada Murdoch with a special present. Each woman received the signature necklace already in the gift bag, but Emilia had given each of them the ship's wheel in the form of a lapel pin with emeralds encrusted in it.
Each of the husbands pinned it onto the ladies' coat lapels amid cries of joy and astonishment. Emilia laughed at their reactions kindly and momentarily wished Murdoch was pinning that ornament on her, but she banished the thought.
"So Emilia, where are you going after this?" Lowe asked her, allowing his wife to take his arm.
"I'm going to spend Christmas with the family in Devonshire," she informed them. "we'll be going tomorrow afternoon and we'll arrive sometime around midnight. My entire family will be there for the first time all year, so it is something special."
"Keep in touch," Murdoch smiled at her. "it's been a real pleasure tonight."
"Likewise. It was a great pleasure to meet your wives tonight, gentlemen." they bade cordial goodbyes and left, Emilia's eyes lingering on Murdoch as he departed with Ada.
Late that night, Emilia was sitting in her room in the Southampton townhouse, tucking away her tiara while sitting at her vanity. She was clad in a brown robe over a white nightshirt, all the finery of the night had been taken off and put away. The princess dabbed makeup remover over her eyes and rubbed off the silver eyeliner expertly. Next she took her hair down out of the French twist and began to brush it out.
"Honey?" her father knocked on her door and peered in. "It's late and we need an early start tomorrow to get to Devonshire."
"Dad, I can't stop thinking about Murdoch."
Stephen was about to leave the doorway when he heard her and turned back. "What?"
"You heard me. I danced with him and I wanted to be with him for the rest of the night," she admitted, standing up and going over to her father. "my mind's been shanghaied."
"Not at all, dear! You're in love with him."
"He's married."
"It's normal to have a crush on people, Emilia. Even married people have crushes on others."
"Do you speak from experience, Dad?" teasingly Emilia gave her father a coy glance, giggling.
"I do, darling. Never mind, he's a taken man and you will find someone. Don't lose your faith." Stephen put his hand under her chin and pecked her on the cheek. Emilia's eyes shone with affection for her father as he smiled encouragingly.
"Right, Dad."
"In the meantime," Stephen took his daughter by the hand. "I never got a dance with my charming young lady tonight so I'm going to have to rectify that now."
"Oh, Daddy!" Emilia laughed, her father always knew how to cheer her up. If she tried to unburden herself to her mother, she would just get a lecture on how women were supposed to be stoic and never show emotion. Emilia's mother had never known how to deal with emotion, something her daughter recognized at an early age. Stephen had seen the frustration in his daughter and counseled her, teaching the appropriate ways to express emotion.
"Come on now love, time for bed."
"OK, Dad." Emilia sat down on the bed and Stephen left, turning off the light and closing the door.
LETTERS
"Dear Emilia;
"It was such a pleasure to see you at the gala for your new jewelry collection. Ada can't stop talking about you now, as she admires the pin you had done for her and the lighthouse necklace she wears at every chance she can get. She would love to have you to our hourse to have supper sometime if you would be interested.
"Things are getting very busy in town, as we've been decorating our house for Christmas, shopping, getting ready for our usual festivities. Lightoller and his family come over for Christmas Eve, then we enjoy a few hours together. On Christmas day it is just Ada and I, as my parents and sister are up in Dalbeattie and cannot make the journey down to see us this year. Neither one of us wanted to make the journey up there to see them, to be honest. A Christmas by ourselves is all that we wanted this year.
"I am at a loss, I confess, at what to get you for Christmas or if you even wanted anything. What could I get a royal? At any rate, Ada's at me to go to the service in church so I must sign off now.
"Fondly, Will."
"Dear Emilia;
"It's been 3 weeks and no reply from you and I admit I am starting to get worried. Are you all right?
"Having a fun Christmas? I bet you've got all sorts of gala parties and balls to go to and have fun with a lot of people of varied backgrounds. Were you up dancing until midnight and weaving stories with the other young matrons of society? Regaling people with tales of your officer friends perhaps?
"We had a fun Christmas as always and New Year's was something special. We went with Charles and his family to the grand party in the town square and counted down the last seconds. Fireworks were shot off, people celebrated with the new jazz band in town playing ragtime tunes, it was wonderful!
"As of now, Ada is a bit sick but we expect that to dissipate in time. It was most likely due to us being out until the wee hours of the morning and carrying on like a clutch of animals!
"I have seen newspaper articles-something about an Edward James Sean Worthington-a relative? They say he is making strides in the music industry because of his devotion to his instrument of choice, the piano. Do you play as well? The thought never occurred to me.
"Ada's ill so I must go and tend to her. Do write back, Emilia.
"Fondly, Will."
"Dear Will;
"I only have time to drop you a short line. I'm busy trying to help my brother find venues for his new music hall act. He predicts that jazz will really take off one of these days and he specifically asked for my help.
"No, I don't play piano and I can't sing to save my life. I was never very musically-inclined come to think of it. I am devoted to art like drawing and sculpting, but I never was any good at music or the performance arts. Edward-my brother, has been playing piano and studying the violin for many years now and is a real virtuoso at playing them both. He composes music like I create new pieces of jewelry.
"Demand for the Lighthouse collection is skyrocketing and I'm so busy now between that and my brother, I barely have time to do anything else. I haven't slept in two days so I'm going to post this note and hopefully get a full night's sleep for once!
"Best wishes for Ada, I hope it isn't anything serious.
"Fondly, an exhausted and on the verge of passing out EAF."
"Dear Emilia;
"I am in receipt of your letter and I have found a few news articles about you and your brother about to open up a new music hall to replace the old one that burned down 6 years ago. More and more young people are into the jazz scene now and I'm sure more families will congregate to the halls to get a dose of music. Do you allow the hall to be used for social functions as well?
"Over the past week, Ada's condition has deteriorated. I am at a loss to describe what is wrong with her and the doctor doesn't know either. She's been bedridden for almost two weeks now, she has a bad cough and keeps getting weaker.
"I fear for her, Emilia. I fear that one day I'll get up in the morning and she won't be there. I guess that's all I can say at this point. The doctor doesn't hold out much hope and it pains me to write that let alone think it.
"The doctor leaves a nurse to care for Ada during the day while I go to the White Star Line offices to line up cargo, supplies, etc for the next voyage of the Oceanic, which is Lights's favorite ship. I tend to Ada during the night, trying to get her to drink something which mostly doesn't work. Lights knows about this and he came down yesterday to see her, then he managed to fast talk her into drinking water. Honestly I don't know how he does it, it's a real talent.
"So how is life for you, Emilia? Interesting, I doubt.
"Yours, Will."
"Dear Will;
"I'm so sorry to hear about Ada. I'm near Southampton now in the family house, so wire me if you need me to come and help you. She's a wonderful woman and I refuse to believe that you might lose her.
"Things have quieted down some since the music hall opened. It is available for rental for any function, yes. My brother figures he can turn a modest profit from the space and he wants to eventually turn it into a theater. He hasn't quite figured it out yet, but I think he'll do an additional space for the theater with a proper orchestra pit. There's a renewed interest in the arts going on right now and I think my brother will do pretty well.
"My father begs to be remembered to you. I happened to mention Ada to him and he has volunteered the family physician for you if you would like to accept. If not, that's OK too; he won't feel insulted.
"I would like to volunteer my services if you like, but I do not want to infringe upon what is surely private time for you and your wife. Just remember, wire me and I will come. I feel for you and I will help you if you like. This is an open offer with no expiration date.
"Prayers be with you and Ada. I will think of you and pray for you both daily.
"EAF."
TELEGRAM FROM WILL MURDOCH TO EMILIA AF WORTHINGTON
"Ada deathly ill STOP. Please come at once I need your help STOP."
It was a lazy day for Emilia as it was mid January and the business had slowed down. She wasn't needed to make public appearances and the next royal engagement was a few months away. The princess was loafing around on her chaise lounge, reading a volume of Charlotte Bronte when there was a knock at her door.
"Miss?" her new butler, Alphonse, opened up the door a crack. "This telegram just arrived for you."
"Bring it here then." he obeyed. Emilia's heart sank as she opened up the envelope and read the note. "Alphonse, pack my bags with enough clothes for 3 weeks. I depart for Belmont Road immediately."
"Yes, miss." Alphonse had been instructed not to call her royal highness as she preferred miss over all of the proper titles. The butler went over to the closet, opened up the double doors, sorting out her dresses.
"I'm going to inform my father of this, Alphonse. I'll be right back."
"Of course, miss." the butler bowed to her and went to her closet as she opened up the door to her room and power walked down the hall.
Emilia went downstairs, her heels clattering on the hardwood loudly as she just barely managed to avoid tripping on her own hemline. In the living room or drawing room as they called it, there was a white marble fireplace, a light blue Chesterfield couch and loveseat, and rich dark oak furniture. The couch and loveseat had a brocade printed fabric for upholstery, the oak end tables had tall lamps with dangling lampshade fringe in white. A baby grand piano stood in the corner, sleek looking in its black paint and clear lacquer polish.
The princess's mother Evelyn was sitting on the couch with a glass of brandy for tea time enjoying a chat with her husband. Stephen was chuckling at the bit of society gossip that Evelyn was telling him as he pulled at his teacup.
Evelyn jumped, nearly sloshing brandy on the couch. "Goodness, child! There's no need to rush about in such a hurry!" she set her glass down on the end table, hands in her lap, looking at her daughter expectantly. Stephen put his teacup aside, knowing that his daughter was worried about her friend Murdoch and his wife's ill health. Evelyn eyed her daughter almost impassively, a bit jealous of the fact that Emilia always went to her father first.
"Darling, what is it?" the patriarch asked, taking his daughter's hands in his own, staring into her eyes with deep concern etched into his features.
"It's Will, Dad! His wife's really ill and he'd only send for me if it was an emergency!" she thrust the telegram at her father who read it, face draining of color. Evelyn appeared similarly alarmed, having heard Emilia's stories of Murdoch and how fond her daughter was of him.
"Tell Alphonse to pack for you and I'll go and get the streetcar ready to drop you off in."
"Thank you, Dad. 'Bye, Mom." she pecked her mother on the cheek and fled upstairs like her rear was on fire. Evelyn watched her daughter go, a look of mild amusement on her face. The matriarch had classic royal features, a soft oblong face, blue eyes, some laugh lines around her eyes. Her dark blonde hair was wound up in a braided bun at the back of her head, she wore a simple blue dress for that snowy day.
"You're just like your father, dear," Evelyn chuckled and set down her glass. "my sweet little girl." she stood up and sat down at the piano to play.
Alphonse watched his young mistress with the perpetual bleak look on his face as Emilia picked up her suitcase. The young butler was a little younger than Emilia, thin and agile looking with a slight build. He had dark brown curly hair with a little stubble on his face with keen brown eyes.
"Thank you Alphonse, I'll send word when I am to arrive home." she fled out the door, her long braid had come undone and was flying behind her as she clattered downstairs. Alphonse heard the bang of the door as it shut.
Evelyn stopped Emilia briefly, buttoning on her coat and adorning it with her favorite blue and white scarf. "It's very cold out there, dear, make sure you don't catch a chill now." she directed, tying a knot in the left hand side.
"Thanks, Mom."
"Put that braid back up! You're not a wild woman!" Evelyn called out as Emilia shot outside, masking the smile of mild annoyance as her father pulled up in the new Renault.
"I'm so grateful to you, Dad." she threw her suitcase in the back heedlessly and clambered aboard the car with her father's helping hand. Emilia arranged her skirt so it didn't get caught in the door as her father's valet shut the door with a respectful nod as they pulled away.
"Nonsense my dear." they didn't say a word as the car left the driveway and went into town. Stephen glanced over at Emilia a few times as he guided the car through the twists and turns, negotiating local traffic. It only took a few minutes to get into the side of town that Murdoch lived in, so her father drove to the sidewalk and pulled over. Emilia yanked out her suitcase, thanked her father, then dashed up the walkway to Murdoch's house, slipping in her heels on the newly fallen snow.
Emilia knocked loudly but still nobody answered the door. The princess tried the door, found it was open, and then leaned on the door to peer inside. "Will?"
Inside the house it looked like nobody had been taking care of the necessary chores for awhile now. Murdoch's coat was on the ground, shelves of books were askew, the carpet needed a good cleaning, not to mention some magazines were scrawled around at random.
"Sheesh," setting her suitcase down near the door, she shut it and took a few cautious steps inside. "Will?" following the trail of assorted clothing and dirt, Emilia found the way to the master bedroom. Knocking once, she pushed the door open all the way, saying Murdoch's name again.
"Too late..." Murdoch was kneeling at the side of the bed with a still form lying on top of it. The officer's voice was thick with sobs and shaking slightly, but he stopped it. "Ada..." his face was buried in his hands as Emilia's jaw fell open. It made sense to her why the house was in such disarray now-Murdoch had taken his grief and rage out on anything he could get his hands on.
"Oh Lord," Emilia went to stand beside him, not knowing on how to approach him to comfort him. "Will, I'm so sorry..."
The officer lifted up his tearstained face to glimpse Emilia through his blurry eyes. "Just as soon as I got back from sending you the...telegram.. she.."
"Don't talk," the princess instructed him. "Will, come on. This isn't helping you." Murdoch looked terrible, his eyes all bloodshot and swollen from his tears, he hadn't shaved for several days, and he had a bit of a smell attached to him. Emilia put her hand on his shoulder in a friendly squeeze for a moment before gently drawing him up to stand. The officer wobbled a bit as his legs were numb, but regained his equilibrium.
"I can't leave her!" he protested, knowing he was being silly but not able to help it. Emilia took a firm hand and drew the sheet over Ada's body, cutting her off from his sight. The poor woman's body was nearly translucent gray and it looked like she had wasted away for awhile with the disease. In death, the blood was settling, rigor mortis was coming in, and she had a little color back in her cheeks. Emilia bit her lip as she turned back to Murdoch, who was wiping his eyes.
"There's nothing you can do now. Come on, let's get this place cleaned up."
"Emilia.."
"Will, you need a distraction. Has the district doctor come yet to sign the death certificate?"
"He's on his way." Murdoch stood up stiffly, his legs cramped from kneeling down for so long. The officer managed to pull himself together enough so that he could help Emilia clean up his house and show her where things went.
"This is your room." he showed her. Emilia put her suitcase in the corner, observing the light brown room with oak paneling. A twin bed stood in one corner with no sheets on it, but she could remedy that later on. The princess nodded in satisfaction as the doctor knocked on the door, ready to perform his duty.
While the doctor was engaged, Murdoch sat on the couch, twisting his hands anxiously. Emilia made hot chocolate and handed a mug to Murdoch who took it with no interest.
"How about something a little stronger?" a bottle of Scotch whiskey was presented and Murdoch gave her the ghost of a grin. The whiskey burned some sense back into him, then he put a little into the hot drink. Emilia produced a small bottle of peppermint schnapps, put a bit in her mug, and took a sip.
"Thanks." Murdoch rasped. "Guess I made a spectacle of myself."
Emilia shook her head with a wistful smile. "I think you're under obligations to do that now. Did she ask for me?"
"I don't want to talk about it right now, Em." Murdoch closed his eyes and turned his head away in grief.
"Fair enough." they both heard footsteps in the hall and the doctor appeared.
"Mrs. Murdoch died of consumption. I'm putting the certificate in the county register, and I'll assign a nurse to come here and take care of the body." he shook Murdoch's hand warmly. "I'm truly sorry for your loss, Mr. Murdoch. She was a fine lady."
"Aye, a sweet lady..." he teared up again but forced them back. Emilia cuffed him on the shoulder for a moment before thanking the doctor and walking him out. "Emilia, would you take care of the body? She always liked you."
"We only met once, Will." she inwardly shuddered, not liking the idea of being in a room with a cadaver.
"Aye, but she loved my stories of you and would always check the daily rag in case you were mentioned. If we had more time, you and her would have been real friends."
"I would have liked that," Emilia admitted. "I'll see to her body, Will. You lay down here and try to get some rest. I know you've got a raging headache."
After all that crying, Murdoch did have one hell of a headache. The whiskey only dulled it a bit but he really needed sleep to cure him. He grunted and lay back on the couch, closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep. Emilia took off her coat, just realizing that she had it on all that time, and spread it out over her friend. She reached over and stirred up a fire in the fireplace, then steeled herself for the duty she had to perform.
In the bedroom with Ada's body, a basin full of warm soapy water, Emilia hitched up the sleeves of her dress, pulled the sheet off the body, undressed it, then began to wash it down. Her mind on auto pilot as it was, Emilia dried off the body, then picked out a dress to clothe the body in. Soon, Ada was in a light red dress with white lace on the throat and wrists, and Emilia had combed out Ada's hair, putting it in a braid and pinning it to the back of her head.
"That should be enough." since it was in the middle of winter, Ada would have a basic service, then there would be a lengthy hold in an underground tomb until the ground thawed out enough to bury her.
One hour had passed since Emilia had begun her mission, and when she came out of the room, Murdoch was sleeping on the sofa soundly. The princess drew up a chair and sat beside the prone form of her friend, unwilling to wake him up. Emilia put her hand on his head and drew back a few strands of hair that had fallen loose from his hairdo.
The princess sat loyally by her friend until she realized that it was nearing 5 PM and therefore supper time. She stood up, brushed out her skirt, then marched into the kitchen. A quick surveyance of the cabinets and cupboards told her that there was nothing in the house that was even remotely edible.
"Guess I have to go shopping then." she muttered and picked up her overcoat. Writing a note to Murdoch in case he woke up while she was out, Emilia picked up her purse and left the house.
Returning from her errand, Emilia saw that Murdoch had never moved an inch. Satisfied, Emilia set to work in the kitchen. Her mother had an interest in cooking and taught her a few tricks of the trade, including teaching her a few valued family recipes. Murdoch looked a bit pale faced as the stress of caring for Ada had definitely taken a toll on him.
The princess wasn't a bad cook, but she was a far cry from being anywhere near a professional. She pulled out her items from her bag and began to work away. Emilia smiled to herself, remembering that when her parents were out on a date night or working away from home, she would often step up and make the meals by herself. Her education had taught her the basics of cooking and she would often make dinners for the family as well. Even though her family was royalty, her father didn't believe in keeping a chef on the house staff. It was unheard of to have royalty cook for themselves, but Stephen was very progressive in his mind, insisting that all of his children learn how to cook. Evelyn had insisted that all the children learn how to sew so that they were well-rounded and could fend for themselves.
Emilia filled a stockpot with water and set it on one of the burners, putting more coal in the stove so the water would boil. She glanced at the clock on the wall and began to prep supper, taking up a knife and starting to slice.
About 30 minutes later, Murdoch woke up to a wonderful smell emanating from the kitchen. He yawned and stretched, happy to find that his headache had faded down to a very mild throbbing. The officer stood up and went over to the kitchen to see what Emilia was up to.
"Smells wonderful." Emilia was opening up the oven and pulling something out. She glanced up to see Murdoch standing there, his blue eyes dulled slightly from grief but looking alert as ever. The princess pushed shut the door and put the pan on the range top.
"Come on over and dig in then." she invited. "I've got your good old Scotch whiskey here for a little shot." Murdoch did so and for a few minutes there was only the clinking sound of cutlery, glasses being raised and lowered, drinks being poured.
"Suppose I have to talk to the funeral director tomorrow," Murdoch tried to keep his voice neutral, but a hint of emotion belied itself to Emilia's ears. "he'll want to tend to the body and make arrangements. We can't bury her in the winter, we'll have to wait until summer to inter her properly."
"That's the standard, Will." Emilia stood up, retrieved the plates, then started washing up. "why don't you head up to bed, all right? Take a bath or something because you look... unkempt."
Murdoch fingered his 3 day old stubble. "You may be right there."
"Go on!" Emilia scolded. "I'm the woman and I'm always right!"
Three days later, Murdoch's parents came down from Dalbeattie to attend the funeral. Samuel and Jeannie Murdoch, though elderly, still radiated the healthy and robust Scottish energy. Samuel rapped on the door with his brass headed walking stick, producing two hollow thuds.
The door was opened and to the couple's surprise, a royal princess greeted them at the door. Samuel's blue eyes opened wide, Jeanne's mouth almost dropped open.
"Your highness," Samuel said in his gravely voice, attempting to bow as Jeannie did likewise. "what an honor to have you visiting our son!"
"Oh, please, sir," Emilia took his hand. "I'm not here in any royal capacity. Please do come in, you must be tired from your journey." the elderly couple walked into the living room, still a bit shocked that a royal princess was sharing the abode of their humble son. Jeannie halfheartedly wondered if Murdoch had already taken a lover and Samuel, like he could read her mind, met her eyes and shook his head slightly, meaning no. She understood and banished the thought from her head, knowing her own son would not be so impulsive.
Emilia turned away from the couple and called Murdoch to come out from his room. Not wanting to intrude on the family's time together, the princess returned to her bedroom where she sat down on the bed, gazing out the window.
Murdoch came in, knotting his tie tightly. He still looked pale and tired, but that was waning as Emilia's cooking had reversed the process. The sailor still slept badly at night though he didn't mention it to anyone. Clad in his black pants and white shirt, Murdoch was dressing to go to the funeral.
"Mom, Dad," he pecked his parents on the cheek. "I'm glad you could make it."
"Nonsense, son," Samuel appraised Murdoch critically. "we wouldn't desert you in your hour of need." Jeanne checked her son out as well, noticing that he was too thin for her taste, too pale, though there was a little color starting to come back in his cheeks. Embracing her son, she squeezed his hand comfortingly.
"Do you want to take a minute to freshen up a bit?" Murdoch offered.
"No, we're ready to go." Jeanne answered. "Is your new friend coming with us?"
"No, Mom. She didn't know Ada-they only met once, and a royal there at the funeral would attract too much attention. Shall we go?"
"Lead on, Will."
Emilia watched them from her ajar door depart the property, remembering it was only yesterday when the undertaker took Ada's body away. Murdoch had not wanted to see them do it, so he stayed in Emilia's room until she told him that it was all clear. When he came out of the room, he had a fresh attack of sobbing, so Emilia sat with him on the couch, enfolded him in her arms and let him have a good cry. She knew how cleansing it could be in the long run.
Sitting on the couch, Emilia wished she had known Ada better so she could grieve along with Murdoch. It must have been hard for him to be with a lady who didn't know his late wife at all. Why exactly did Murdoch want her there if she didn't know his wife? She had asked him how long was she to stay there and he'd only say for a few weeks or so. Murdoch was damnably vague about the whole thing, so Emilia contented herself with thinking that her stay wasn't the first and foremost thing on his mind at the moment.
Picking up a book from Murdoch's pile, she saw several volumes on seamanship, probably inherited from his father, and only a few books that she would be interested in. Emilia picked out Faust, intrigued by the title, settled down and started reading.
When the funeral concluded, Murdoch walked with his parents down to his house. It was a bitter cold day and it had started to snow, big fat flakes falling fast. Murdoch wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck, adjusted his hat, then plunged his hands into his pockets. People walked by, the occasional straggler trying to keep up with a crowd scurried past, and parents admonished their children to stick close to them at all times. A motorcar rumbled past, nearly spraying the officer with slush from near the street gutter.
"So tell us about Emilia, Will." Samuel Murdoch may have been elderly, but he still had a spring in his step and a lively gait to his walk. Jeannie had his arm; she still blushed like a schoolgirl when Samuel would help her over patches of ice. Murdoch had to smile, as it was great to see his mom and dad still acting like young people in love.
"What's there to say, Dad? I was in charge of her with my friend Charles for the ill fated Titanic voyage."
"Didn't you save her life?" Jeanne remembered an article written after the tragedy that in which Emilia had called all the surviving officers heroes and expressed her heartfelt gratitude to all of them. The elderly woman had felt her heart warming up for the young lady she'd never met. Seeing Emilia in her son's home had given her a start, but she knew that the royal was there just as a friend instinctively. Murdoch had written them about Emilia a few times and he was always very positive, writing about her in a fond and affectionate way.
"She says that," Murdoch flushed a bit. "I put her into a lifeboat like everyone else, Mom. She forced me in after her as there were no more boats, telling me that I had done my job and it was every man for himself."
"She was right," Samuel acknowledged. From his years as a sea captain, he knew when a ship was too far gone to save it, and there was always a time when a sailor had to abandon ship and save themselves. "son, you couldn't have done any more than you already did. You can't live in the past now."
"Your father's right. We thank the Lord everyday that you were spared. Why exactly is Princess Worthington here, Will?"
Murdoch paused. "Ada did send for her but by the time she arrived, it was too late. Emilia's been a big help, cooking and cleaning for me."
Jeanne's brows knit themselves together as they reached the walkway in front of Murdoch's house. "You have that young woman doing wife chores for you, son!"
"Mom?"
"It's true!" she insisted. "Will, you're grieving and that's normal, but Emilia can't be there for you every single day for the rest of your life. She's got a life to get back to and you need to resume your normal life as soon as possible. The best way to honor Ada's memory is to live your life as normal as you can. You have to come to terms with your loss, Will."
"She's right, son," Samuel faced Murdoch. "set aside time to grieve, but do not lose sight of what's important in your life. Make sure that Emilia knows how much you appreciate her."
"You've given me a lot to think about," Murdoch admitted. "will you have supper with us?"
"Don't take too much time to think about it, son. Emilia will think she's doing thankless work and she will leave you because she will think that you don't appreciate her." Samuel warned as he opened the door, standing back to let Jeanne in first.
Over the next day after seeing his parents off on their journey back home, Murdoch sat on the couch in the living room while Emilia sat in the armchair, much deeper into Faust than the previous day. The princess wore a simple red dress, diamond stud earrings and no necklace. Emilia was wearing her hair down that day, gathered into a simple braid and hanging over one shoulder. Murdoch gazed at her for a long moment. The princess was sitting placidly on the chair like she was posing for a portrait to be painted of herself. The officer studied her face, which was so warm and caring, but he'd seen her furious only once-when Hockley had tried to hold her at gunpoint before she boarded a lifeboat. Why Emilia hadn't found a suitor yet puzzled Murdoch, as any man would be glad to have her. He started a bit as she turned a page, having gotten too used to the silence as they sat there.
"Emilia," Murdoch spoke suddenly. "I want you to know that I really appreciate what you've done for me this past week."
She smiled, looking up from her book. "I was glad to help you in any way possible, Will." her hazel eyes seemed to light up from within as she met his eyes. Murdoch's mind flashed him an image of himself and Emilia kissing. Confused for a second, he cleared his mind and made sure he wasn't blushing.
"For that I thank you. You're invaluable to me." what did his mind mean by that? His wife was barely cold in the tomb and he was already having fanciful thoughts of another woman!
"Thanks, Will." Emilia saw his little pause and a faint flush being forced back from his cheeks. Choosing not to say anything was her best recourse at the moment, she wisely decided. Putting a finger in the book to mark her place, Emilia folded it closed and leaned over to Murdoch as he began to speak again.
"I heard from the White Star Line offices today. I am to be getting a position on board the Suevic as chief officer, and I ship out tomorrow."
"Isn't that a bit sudden?" Emilia twirled her finger in the end of her braid. "Are you over your grief already?"
"I will never be one hundred percent over it, Emilia. My parents told me that I should resume my normal life and not be mired down in grief." he steepled his fingers together under his chin, looking up at Emilia with his wide blue eyes.
"Sound advice," Emilia commented. "you can grieve a little bit inbetween shifts."
"I imagine so," Murdoch said darkly, not liking the idea. "my plan is to let life go on as usual. Charles will be with me so he will support me a bit in my moments."
"Good. Sounds like you have it all worked out. I shall wire my parents and tell them to have the towncar here tonight so I can go." she stood up, ready to go to the telegraph office and have the wire sent out, but Murdoch reached out and caught her arm. Emilia's eyebrows narrowed not in anger, but confusion.
"Tomorrow," Murdoch was impulsive for a moment but he stopped and checked himself. "it's a bit late now, don't you think?"
Emilia glanced at the clock. "I suppose so. Will, you deserve a break. How about you come with me this spring to my small house in Kent?"
"If you'd be willing to put up with me for any stretch of time, than I guess I can make do with it. Any entertainment?"
"Well, I have a few horses, a pasture, I even have a small sailing boat that I don't know how to use." Emilia admitted with a wry smile. "I had always been terrified of capsizing but after what I have survived last spring, I think that's very trivial. Besides I like to swim anyway."
"Very good. I'll teach you how to sail then." Murdoch glanced at the clock on the wall. "I suppose I'll turn in. This day passed by quickly."
"That's good, isn't it?" Emilia edged back onto her seat, stretching out lazily as she reopened her book. Murdoch as he passed by the back of her seat, leaned over and pecked her on the forehead.
"I'd say it is. I have you to thank for a lot lately." she looked at him upside down as he smiled, then an identical smile crept onto her own features. "Your highness."
"Get to bed!" she swatted at him with the book, making him laugh.
Murdoch went to bed but he wasn't able to sleep very well. Thoughts of his late wife came into his mind and he unwillingly remembered the day of her death. She had woken up that day with a sense that it was the end for her and when she had told Murdoch that, he'd vehemently denied it.
Ada had always been the wisest one in their relationship. She asked for Emilia, despite only having met her once, she'd always liked her. Murdoch had let her read the correspondence between the two of them and Ada could see Emilia's character behind the words. Ada asked for Emilia to be by her side before she died, not telling Murdoch why, though he had an inkling why in his own mind.
He'd sent the wire to Emilia as fast as he could that afternoon, literally running to and from the telegraph office which was only four blocks away. When he returned, Ada was in the process of drawing her last breath. The officer begged her to hold on until Emilia's arrival, but Ada could not wait any longer. If it hadn't been for her disease, Murdoch would have kissed her goodbye. As it was, Ada wasn't even dead for ten minutes when Murdoch heard his name being called by the princess.
The officer sat up in bed and glanced in the doorway, seeing Emilia pass by with a lighted candle on the way to her room. She had a ghostly appearance in the darkness, Murdoch thought as her silhouette disappeared.
Strangely the fact that she was in the house with him gave him a comforting thought, then he realized he was falling asleep.
A neighbor's rooster crowing brought Murdoch awake. He rubbed his eyes, sat up in bed, then got dressed for the day. Emilia was already up, wearing a black and white dress, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee in her hand.
"Morning, Will." she greeted him cheerfully. "Coffee for you?"
"Yes please!" he picked up the coffeepot before she moved, served himself, then sat down next to her. "Heading home today?"
"Yes. The car will be here in about ten minutes. Dad and I are going up to Edinburgh for some ceremony, I forget what it is exactly. It's been a nice little interlude all things considered." Emilia shot a glance at Murdoch, afraid she might have spoken out of turn or implied something other than the truth.
"Well, I'm glad you could come." was all Murdoch could think of. "My assignment is on the Mediterranean run for a few months, then who can tell what they will assign me on next? I've asked not to be on the north Atlantic run during the springtime for awhile."
"I never did ask-they blame you personally for the disaster?"
"What?"
"The inquiries, did they put the blame on you for the Titanic disaster at all?"
"If they had do you think I would be here talking about my next officer stint on a White Star Line vessel?" Murdoch chuckled. "No, they took Lightoller's advice and agreed that assigning blame was pretty pointless. It was an accident, plain and simple. As I'm sure you've heard, Mr. Ismay shouldered most of the scrutiny."
"Yes, the Brute Ismay moniker," Emilia mused as she absentmindedly sipped her coffee. "I didn't like him, he was really pompous, but he didn't deserve to be publicly crucified in this manner. Anyone facing the same circumstances would flee to safety too. It's the basic instinct."
"I agree with that wholeheartedly," Murdoch commented. "what's that?"
"The car is here." a horn honk sounded outside and Emilia stood up. She admitted her father's valet into the hall to pick up her trunk she had repacked last night, then glanced over to see Murdoch approaching her. "It's time for me to go home and become her royal highness again."
"Stay in touch?"
"Of course." Emilia put Murdoch's hat on his head, then shrugged into her coat. The princess allowed Murdoch to wrap her scarf around her neck. She pecked him on the cheek with a chuckle, then put her leather gloves on.
"All ready, your highness."
Emilia blinked and rolled her eyes. "Now we're back to that," she mumbled as Murdoch chuckled back at her. "stay in touch, write me often."
"You do the same." he kissed her on the cheek and saw her down the pathway. The princess had to go slowly as the snow had littered the ground liberally, but there was a thin coating of ice over every visible surface. Emilia accepted the hand of the valet as he opened the door then steered her into the car. Murdoch waved as soon as he saw her peering out the window towards him. She returned it, then the car started up and drove off.