Chapter three:

January 25th 1913

Nine hours. It had been nine hours since Jack Dawson had found out he had become a father to a baby girl. Sobbing until his stomach hurt had done nothing, he had resisted temptation of downing alcohol and instead had taken to lying next to a river, watching the way the water worked its way down to the rocks, how the branches delicately dipped the tips of the leaves into the water, some escaping into the stream. His stomach hurt, his lungs burned and then there was the pain of knowing he would never meet his daughter, or his love.

He had become angry, then calm, then angry once more until it bubbled over from the pit of his stomach into his throat and now he was seething. There was something odd about Hockley's story; his way of making Jack understand...he didn't. Would Rose request for her infant to be taken from her or would she be made to do so?

Jack didn't remember how he got to the Hockley mansion, he just knew he was full of adrenaline and his legs had simply carried him there.

The Hockley mansion sat in complete darkness. Sheer determination sat bubbling in Jack's stomach as he stood with narrow eyes, watching, like a bird about to catch its prey. He kicked his lips, nervously. Just how would he get inside?

He began his walk up the front lawn, his legs moving with purpose. In the early morning January air, his face felt tight and his hands were numb. He stayed closed to the house in case anybody would see him, but who would be out after midnight in these parts? Finding his way around the side gate. Jack took in just how large the house really was. He smirked; Hockley and his damned obsession with size. It equalled power. His money ensured people respected him; the perfect fiancé and businessman. Jack stretched out his fingers trying to gain some feeling in them. He stopped for a moment in complete darkness to examine his surroundings. Three windows sat side by side. He rushed towards them, a quick glance through them ensured that nobody was sat inside. The house was dark. He fiddled about feeling for a panel; anything which may dictate it would open. Nothing. He ran to the second window, trying to not rattle the glass. Nothing. Shit. He went to the last one, his hands sliding around when suddenly the glass panel moved, sliding right with a loud rattle. Jack winced, ducking his head beneath the window, preparing for someone to come looking at the disturbance, he listened for moment but there was only silence. He stood and examined just how he would get into the window; it was chest height. He placed both hands either side of the window pane before heaving himself up using all of his upper body strength he had as he ignored just how painful the cold was. His body snaked through the window, his legs kicked to propel him inside. He landed inside the sitting room with a crash on the dark wooden floor. Now he was sure to have been heard, he quickly and quietly pulled the window pane back before standing silently waiting for a noise – still nothing. Relief washed over him as he pushed his hair from his face as he studied the length of the room. Under his feet sat a thick plush rug, he couldn't distinguish the colour or pattern in the dark. He wove through tables, chairs and cabinets to reach the open door. He peeked through it and realised that he had reached the long corridor he had walked down the day he had spoken to Cal. He knew that Hockley's study was next door on the left, the kitchen and the servant's quarters were further down the corridor but he had no interest in those room. He quietly moved towards Cal's study and then he located what he was looking for. The stairs. A place off limits to him before. He narrowed his eyes, his breathing seemed to be erratic. She shifted quickly as he ran to the stairs, taking them two at a time. He didn't make a sound ensuring he moved light on his feet. The long hallway upstairs mirrored the one downstairs. A row of white wooden doors either side face each other. It would only take one person to leave their room and he would be found. His stomach was sinking, his heart beating so fast he was sure they would hear. The moonlight shone through the large window and Jack sighed. He ran his eyes over the doors; six. Three either side.

Had Hockley been telling the truth? Was Rose elsewhere? Or was she here? Slowly he began to walk the length. He passed the first door and then the second. He stopped. A symphony of gentle snores filled his ears. He listened more carefully. One came from the second door, unmistakably a male's throaty grunt; Cal. From the third door was a gentler, lower snore followed by a mumble of some sort. He tiptoed past, ensuring that he made no sound at all. It was then he heard a shuffling, a groan and a cry. A loud cry. A baby.

It took several seconds for him to register that it was the cry of a child, a new born by the sound of it. His entire body stood rooted to the spot, he couldn't move even though his brain was ushering him forward quickly. Through the tears which had quickly pricked at his eyes, he focused on where the noise was coming from. The very end door. One alone; away from the rest of the house. He darted towards it, this time he didn't care he saw or who heard. Pushing the door open, his eyes adjusted to the complete darkness. The room was almost bare aside from a table filled with condiments which he couldn't see in the dark, a crib sat next to the window; that much he could make out. His heart thumped in his chest as he approached the wooden cot slowly. Seconds later, footsteps rushing to the room sounded, Jack was going to move but he didn't have time before he locked eyes with a terrified maid, dressed in her nightwear. Her eyes went wide as she opened her mouth to scream but Jack shushed her and stepped out of the shadow of the curtain, it was then he saw it was Trudy Bolt.

''What are-'' She didn't have time to ask before she heard the masters door open, his angry footsteps fast approaching. She went to the crib and picked up the infant, clutching her tightly to her chest but the crying didn't cease. It never did. A child needed her Mother's touch especially so young.

''For God's sake, shut the child up!'' Cal's harsh whisper sounded, rattling through Trudy's brain.

Trudy nodded. ''Yes, sir.'' Before she could glance about she knew that Jack had hidden behind the large heavy green curtain.

''I have a 7.45am meeting and the lack of sleep isn't helping. This is the fourth damned time!''

''Yes, sir. I will have her tended to immediately.''

''Very well.'' His tone didn't soften. Trudy watched as he left, muttering something under his breathe. She closed the door behind him as he left, the child still crying in her arms. She felt the panic begin to rise in her own stomach as Jack stepped from behind the curtain. He had to put his anger to one side for now. Anger at Hockley for lying, for the resentment he clearly held towards the child; his child. His eyes fell on the bundle, a waving arm, a crying little face and as he come forward he could make out tiny little features. Trudy cradled the child tighter to her chest.

''You cannot be here.'' She warned him, her eyes sharp.

Jack didn't hear her words. His own eyes began to water. ''Let me.'' He whispered ever so softly.

Trudy narrowed her eyes at Jack. He stepped closer and as he eyes met his, she saw the remains of a broken man. Her arms loosened, the child was suddenly in the arms of her father, for the first time. The cries ceased.

Holding his daughter felt as though his life was complete. He moved the blanket from her face to see tiny gums, soft plump cheeks, Rose's nose...tears spilled from his eyes.

''Is Rose nursing?'' He asked without taking his eyes from the child. His voice broken.

''No.'' She ran her eyes over Jack, the man they all believed to be dead. ''A wet nurse is.'' A lump came upon her own throat and she had to place a hand over her mouth to swallow it back, feeling her own eyes begin to water. This was how it should be. ''How are you even alive?''

Jack narrowed his eyes at Trudy.

''Rose believes you are dead. That is what we were told all along. Your name wasn't on the list.''

''But-'' He went to speak, but something stopped him. His mind cast back to the day they had arrived in New York; an officer had asked for his name, and he had told him the correct information right there and then, in a hope it would lead Rose back to him. It hadn't. ''I was there.'' He whispered, more to himself.

Trudy shook her head violently. ''No.'' She parted her dry lips. ''I watched her cry for you, for months and then-then she was increasing, with your child.''

Jack felt the lump rise in his throat. ''Cal told me she had gone away, that the child had already been taken.''

''No, she is here.'' Trudy whispered, stroking the child's head. ''And Rose still weeps, for you and the child.''

Jack felt his jaw tighten. Footsteps sounded once more, he saw the panic flash across Trudy's eyes; she knew Cal was coming back. This time, he paced the hallway, faster. The door burst open once more, and Trudy stood with wide eyes as she hugged her face expecting an outburst. Instead, Cal simply glanced about the room calmly before his eyes fell directly on Trudy who held no child.

''Has it gone?''

Trudy swallowed hard. Her eyes slowly scanned behind her before she timidly responded. ''Y-yes. To the nurse.''

Cal nodded. ''Very well.'' He exhaled slowly. ''It is going tomorrow. I will make sure of it.''

Trudy nodded sharply. ''Yes, sir.''

''Get back to bed and rest.''

She watched as he silently left and closed the room behind him. He padded back to his own room calmly before slamming the door closed.

Trudy felt relief pour out of her body, she hadn't realised just how stiff she had become; how terrified. With a wisp, Jack pulled back the curtain, he still cradled his child, tears evident on his face. The baby had formed a tight balled finger around her father's thumb, clasping on for her dear little life. She didn't know anything, she was so fragile and innocent; so unaware of what this life was and how cruel it had been.

''You have to go. Now.'' Trudy told him, forcefully. She held her arms out for the child. ''Or I will call for security.''

Jack knew just how much she hesitated her last words and he knew that he had to leave-but he couldn't pull himself away from her. ''She smells just like Rose.'' He blinked back more tears. Had she been here to see the child?

''Yes.''

He took another look at the baby. Her eyes had fully opened and adjusted to the dim light of the bedroom. ''I won't give her up. I will fight.'' He pressed a tender but firm kiss on her forehead as he loosened his grip on her before lowering her back into Trudy's arms. ''No tears, my darling.'' He whispered to her, as there was none as Trudy cradled her to her own chest. Life would have to go on as normal, as least for tonight.

''Please go, for all of our sakes.''

Jack nodded as he realised that he would actually have to leave the house. Tonight, he couldn't fight but he could sleep knowing he had met his daughter for the first time and that meant everything.