Note: Woot! Chapter 3 is up. I am on a roll! ) Thanks for sticking with me thus far, guys. You all rock! And to think, I actually thought people would despise this! We still have a long way to go, which means plenty of room for some enthralling tales. I promise I won't let any one down! Just stick with me. -lays out a tray of cookies for readers-

Chapter 3

Rose had fought with herself all morning, debating whether she should go find Mr. Andrews or not. He saved her life and she still owed him her gratitude. Thanking him seemed like the right thing to do, but at the same time she was afraid of what he would say and do. Would he lecture me? Would he tell me I'm an idiot? Would he tell Cal?

Throughout lunch Rose thought about these things. She was so terribly afraid. She wasn't too frightened about him telling Cal. More than anything she was afraid of what he thought of her. Mr. Andrews seemed like an awfully pleasant person, and she hated the slight possibility that he viewed her as an immature fool.

After thinking it over for a while, Rose finally came to the conclusion that she was thinking irrationally. Mr. Andrews was a genuine gentleman. He would never say such horrid things. So, immediately after lunch, Rose set off to find him.

She looked everywhere: the restaurants, the lounge, B-deck, the boat deck, the gymnasium. Everywhere! However, he was no where to be found. After searching for nearly an hour she decided to give up and started to return to her room.

As she was walking down the Grand Staircase to A-deck, she heard a familiar voice from behind.

"Afternoon, young Rose," Mr. Andrews' voice called.

Rose turned on the staircase and watched as Mr. Andrews descended behind her.

"Mr. Andrews! I've been looking everywhere for you."

Mr. Andrews smiled as he stepped onto the same stair as Rose. "I'm sorry. I've been all over the ship, inspecting things all morning. Is there something you need?"

"Yes," Rose replied nervously. "Could I have a word with you?"

"Of course!" Andrews replied cheerfully. "Let's make our way to the boat deck then, shall we?"

Rose nods and they both walk back up the stairs and out into the bright sunshine. She feels awkward, not knowing how to speak to him. There were so many things she wanted to get off her chest, but just didn't know how to begin.

"You must think I'm an idiot," Rose began, her eyes looking down at the ground.

Mr. Andrews gave Rose a confused look as they strolled down the deck. "Why would I think that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Rose replied. "Perhaps it's the fact that you saw me hanging off the back of a ship."

A wry smile appeared on Andrews' face. "Indeed, I saw you hanging off the back of a ship, but even that would never cause me to view you as such a thing. I think, more than anything, that you are just distraught, perhaps overwhelmed. But what, I have to wonder, would have such a strong emotional effect on you?"

"It's everything!" Rose immediately replied. They stopped and stood near the edge of the ship. She continued, "It's my life, and everybody in it. Everyone expects me to be perfect: the perfect daughter, the perfect socialite, the perfect wife. They treat me as though I'm some sort of animal. They throw commands at me and expect me to follow. I'm tired of being controlled all the time. It's my own life and I have no say in it at all."

Rose sighed, then added, "I must be mental for saying this, but I don't want to live such a pampered life anymore. I don't want to wear such fashionable clothing or attend a different social gathering every night. Nor do I want to live in a luxurious home with servants waiting on me. I mean, look at these hands, they were made for work. My spirit wants to be wild and free, but instead they have locked me up in a prison, confined for all eternity. All I want is to be free to choose my own destiny."

It wasn't until after her rant that Rose realized what she was saying. Sharing your feelings just wasn't proper in their society, especially when they were so extreme. "I'm sorry," Rose apologized before Andrews could say anything. She took a seat in one of the nearest chairs. "I shouldn't be saying all this to you."

"There's no need for apologies, Rose," Mr. Andrews replied, taking a seat beside Rose. "I understand that a woman's world might not be as easy as a man's. It is very clear you are not happy."

"I'm glad someone understands," Rose said. "But may I ask what makes my emotions so obvious?"

"It was your behavior at lunch yesterday," Andrews answered.

Rose's cheeks turned a bright cherry red. "I must apologize for being so rude. I don't know what came over me."

"I don't think you were rude at all. You were acting independently, something I admire in a young woman." Andrews chuckled, then said, "And might I add that your remark to Ismay about Dr. Freud was quite clever."

They both laughed.

Rose was starting to lighten up. She no longer felt so uncomfortable around Andrews. She thoroughly enjoyed hearing his laugh more than anything. Cal's was so dark and cold, the kind that made her shudder whenever she heard it. But Mr. Andrews' had a wonderful ring to it, a kind that made her feel warm inside.

When they had finished having their laugh, it fell silent. After a few moments, Andrews pulled a watch from his pocket. He said, "I'm sorry our chat must end so soon, but I'm afraid I have much work to do before dinner."

"You will be joining us, won't you?" Rose asked as they both stood.

"Of course," he replied, that boyish grin appearing across his face. "I'd be delighted."

Rose smiled, but then she remembered: she never thanked him. "Before you go, I just wanted to say thank you. Not just for saving me, but for your kindness. No one has ever been as kind as you."

Mr. Andrews bowed his head. "It's my pleasure, Rose." He bid his farewells and walked away. Rose remained where she was, smiling and blushing like some young, lovesick schoolgirl. Could it be possible that she was falling in love with a man she had only just met?