Well here's chapter 3! Sorry it took a while; I've been way too absorbed in the Olympics! I really would like to know what you like or dislike about the story, so reviews would be SPLENDID!
Some interesting stuff in this chapter ;)
Again, I don't own anyone here. The Titanic and Harry Widener belong to history. The Mantons and Miss. Watson to someone else.
April 10, 1912- Aboard Titanic
Carefully shutting the door behind her, Georgiana left her richly furnished room and began to walk down the corridor towards her parents'. The ship had set off towards Cherbourg, and Georgiana had unpacked her belongings and settled in for the voyage.
Sighing, she reached the white door of her parents' stateroom, only four doors away from her own. Georgiana wasn't stupid; she knew that her father had made absolutely sure that her room was as close to his as possible.
"Honestly," she thought to herself, mentally rolling her eyes as she began to turn the door handle, "How much trouble does he think I can get myself into on a ship?"
As she trudged into the room, Georgiana noticed that it was very similar to her own, with the exception that, in Lord and Lady Manton's, servants were scrambling around to put everything in place. She swung the door shut in her wake.
"I wish you wouldn't call me Irish," Lady Manton was saying, pacing back and forth between the two rooms of the cabin.
His hands akimbo as he stood in the doorway between the two rooms, Lord Manton shook his head at his wife's declaration before replying, slightly bewilderedly as she passed him, "You are Irish."
"I'm not," she exclaimed, stopping in front of her husband and giving him a sharp look. Her annoyance was palpable. "Not in that way," she added, before continuing her stroll through the room, hands clasped behind her back.
Georgiana, who, up until that point, had been leaning against a bureau, smiled amusedly at her father as she made her way past him to inspect the other room. Being somewhat Irish was a fact her mother had always tried to deny, no matter how pointless it was. Georgiana, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less what her heritage was and rolled her eyes at how childish her mother could be. Lord Manton, in return to his wife's response, scolded, "You could have been friendlier."
"Why?" Lady Manton shot back immediately, facing the wall with her back to her husband. Swiftly turning around, she looked her husband straight in the face. "And why do we have to go through this ghastly tea?"
Even through the other room, Georgiana could sense the tension between her parents as her father answered Lady Manton in a way that sounded like he had already addressed this issue. "To be polite. Batley works for me."
Georgiana saw her mother sit down at a desk and open a letter from the other room as she tersely challenged, while not looking at Lord Manton, "If he does, I suppose he gets paid for it." Looking up from the letter, she sent a look of frustration towards him. Returning her eyes to the letter, she called to her daughter, "What's your cabin like?"
Re-entering the cabin, letting her hand skate across the wooden panel of the door as she did so, she remarked, "All right. Same as this."
Saying her room was, 'all right' was a bit of an understatement. Upon entering it, Georgiana had been amazed at how opulent it was. The white walls had various decorations carved or painted on it, from fleur-de-lis to flowers, with matching designs in rich colors on the plush carpet underfoot. The mahogany tables, chairs, closets, and bureaus had been just as splendidly crafted. The bed—also mahogany—was a magnificent four poster, and had a lovely red comforter on top of it. Electrical lamps and lights were scattered around the rooms, and Georgiana even had a bathroom with running warm water. Looking out through the window, she could see the sea beneath her, waves crashing against the sides of the vessel. Although she would never admit it, she was in awe of the lavishness of it all.
Coming to a halt next to her father, Georgiana began to wonder the time. She pulled out her father's pocket watch as her mother stated, with no visible emotion, "Oh, how nice. Captain Smith will be joining our table for dinner."
"What's the time?" Georgiana enquired. Noticing that it was nearly six, she replaced her father's watch as he looked down at her. Looking up, she announced, "I'd better go and change."
"No, no." her father said quickly, "Don't get changed. No one changes on the first night out."
Puzzled, Georgiana leaned back, questioning, "Why not?"
Lady Manton, sighing as she put away the note and placed it back on the tea tray, regarded her daughter and answered, "It's not the done thing. Just tidy yourself up."
The done thing. How Georgiana hated that... Yes, the same thing that had been done for many years. Why not try something new?
Turning back to lean against the doorframe, Georgiana challenged her parents, "I still don't see why not."
Lord Manton sighed, "Why does it matter?" Clearly agitated, Lady Manton said nothing, and focused on her maid, Miss. Watson, unpacking her trunk.
Glancing first at her mother, she looked straight at her father, tempting him to scold her, as she stated, "Because I don't believe in the 'done thing'. If I do a thing, I like to know why I'm doing it."
Georgiana, of course, couldn't care less as to whether or not she could change for dinner. In fact, she was glad she did not have to, as she thought it was such a stupid, pointless hassle to get all dressed up to simply eat a meal. But she was taking every opportunity she got to agitate her parents, especially now that they had essentially incarcerated her on a ship.
Shaking his head at his daughter's rebellion, Lord Manton replied, "You wouldn't last long in the army," before tweaking her nose to annoy her and walking into the other room.
Georgiana watched him leave and then fell silent for a moment. She knew her father had said that to rile her up; something that had been happening frequently recently. She wondered if his strategy of defense against her rebellion—apart from taking her halfway across the world—was to get underneath her skin as much as she got under his.
"Well," Georgiana hissed, as she started to move towards the door. She saw her father start to smile in victory and she narrowed her eyes, "I better go, 'freshen up'."
When she reached the door knob, she looked back at her parents and added, "Don't worry; I don't think I can get arrested walking back to my cabin. But then again, you never know what trouble I could get up to." And with that, she stalked out of the room, almost slamming the door behind her.
In her anger, she didn't notice the young man walking down the hall. Speeding along, she crashed into him.
"Oh!" Georgiana yelped, quickly stepping back in order to assess the damage, "I'm so sorry! I was thinking about something and didn't even notice someone else! I beg your pardon—are you quite alright? Did I hurt you?" she gushed.
Taking a closer look at her victim, she saw that it was a young man with chestnut brown eyes. They looked so familiar to her; yet she couldn't seem to place them to a face or name.
"Don't worry—I'm fine! No permanent damage done!" He assured her while laughing after balancing himself and leaning against the wall. Georgiana straight away noticed his American accent. It explained his good-naturedness about the ordeal; an englishman would have been horrified if a girl flew into him out of nowhere.
"Well I am certainly glad you won't have to make a trip down to the physician. How unfortunate that would have been on the first night out!" She exclaimed, relieved and still trying to figure out where she had seen him before.
"Yes," he replied, standing upright and moving to walk next to her. "It might have been a bad omen for the rest of the journey!" He chuckled, before inquiring, "I don't think we've met before. I certainly would've remembered if I had met an englishwoman like you! I'm Harry Widener."
Georgiana vaguely associated the name Widener with Philadelphia and the railway. Introducing herself, she turned to him and said, "Lady Georgiana Grex."
"Oh," Harry grinned, "So I was barreled over by English aristocracy! I would never have believed it!" Georgiana rolled her eyes at him before he added, "I'm only joking, of course."
"I'm sure, Mr. Widener," Georgiana nodded. She noticed that he flinched a little as she used his formal title. "And, if you'll excuse me, this is my cabin, and I really must prepare for dinner."
"Of course," Harry hastened, quickly stepping away from her. "It was a pleasure—and unforgettable—to met you, Lady Georgiana. I'm sure I'll see you again soon." Harry gave her a little bow—his eyes lingering on hers for a little too long—before strolling down the corridor and out of sight.
With a little smile, Georgiana entered her room, still trying to remember where she had seen those eyes.
It was only as Miss. Watson was doing her hair that she placed them to a face: the man who had been staring at her by the saloon.
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