A/N: Sorry for the long delay. I've been really very busy.
And if anyone is wondering about the diamond, just wait a few chapters.
Weakly Jack noticed how someone was touching his forehead, wiping of the sweat. Then the person stood up and next he could hear someone talking on the telephone.
"Yes, aunt Lettice…no, I'm not sure what he has got…yes the doctor has already been here," Ella spoke into the phone quietly as she didn't want to disturb Jack's slumber. Not that it would've mattered very much.
Returning into the room, her eyes fell on his portfolio and despite that little voice telling her that it wasn't right what she was about to do, she opened it to take a look inside. It was Jack's sketches of Rose and the Titanic, better say of Rose on the Titanic. Now she had the insurance - his misery was indeed caused by a woman, albeit a very beautiful one.
Had he been in love with her?
She instantly remembered the words of her aunt.
'Never let yourself fall in love, my dear. People do stupid things then.'
Mr. Dawson and that unknown Lady…she must've had quite an effect on him. So much to risk his own life…for her…running around in Boston with a fever…? Surely he'd been searching for her. She asked herself, if she should questioned him about her, when he had woken up again. Or just pretend she saw nothing?
The woman in the picture was laughing in every time, smiling at the artist. Certainly she was the reason…she did this to him.
Did they have love affair? Where was she now?
She wanted to tear up the paper in her hands, but gave it a second thought, putting it back into the portfolio instead. Now he was quite talented, but the motive was always the same. There were only pictures of that certain woman. Her at what appeared to be the bow of a ship, the next one with her arms stretched out high up into the air…judging from her clothing she must've come from the privileged classes.
How did they even meet? Certainly Mr. Dawson didn't come from a rich family. How had his family reacted to this relationship and her family?
Now my aunt wouldn't have been, if I would suddenly choose to be more than friends with someone like Mr. Dawson. And I can imagine that her relatives felt the same. Maybe they were the reason for them breaking up. Yes, that's it, they forced her to leave him, which she, the obidient daughter did without further thinking - certainly she didn't give a damn that it would break his heart, girls like her are all alike.
Poor Mr. Dawson.
A feeling of hatred for this girl was the taking the best of her and even though Ella wouldn't admit it to herself a strong feeling of jealousy as well.
What does she have that I lack?
Maybe her money…? No, Mr. Dawson isn't like that. He doesn't give a damn about money.
Now Ella felt bad and quite stupid.
How ridiculous being engaged, almost married – indeed it should happen in a week – and yet being so completely drawn to another person. Even more so as this person had in fact never done anything to encourage you.
Looking down at Jack, whose chest was heaving up and down, she was glad she hadn't listen to her aunt and followed him. She had moved him outside on the streets, near the market, but close to the place, where the working girls - Ella laughed, what a stupid describtion for what they did - where having their courters. Afterwards she had asked for help and surprisingly received one on hand without even having to offer anyone money. She had still one, but had been rejected.
'Oh, no, Miss, I don't charge money for helping somebody in need,' they had told her.
What a difference to what her aunt had discribed this people to her, Ella had thought afterwards. They weren't once trying to rape her or steal her things, just offering her a hand, without even taking money for it.
'I'm you brought him home so soon. Otherwise I don't know, if...,' Ella's shocked face had stopped his rush of words. 'Don't worry, Miss.'
Ella forced a smile. Before her parents had died they had told her a similar and a week later both had been dead. So she knew quite well what to think of these promises.
The doctor had mentioned to her that Jack didn't have any inner bruises or such, but a very high temperature.
'I wonder, Miss, if this is was just initiated by today's rain.'
Due to her curious, questioning face he had added: 'There could've been some more to it…you know some former not accurately cured infections.'
Mr. Dawson and serious diseases – Ella had been shocked. How could it be that such a young wonderful man like he, should be put through such stress? She looked at the drawings once more.
Had she something to do with it? The woman was clearly flirting with the artist, yes indeed, they had been lovers, it couldn't have been anything else. Suddenly Ella's head shot up. She had tried to make as comfortable as possible for Mr. Dawson and laid him to rest in her own bedroom. He shouldn't think of her as some spoiled brat, who wouldn't share her room with anyone beneath her.
Of course she hadn't bothered to asked her aunt of Mr. Lindsay about this.
Laying the portfolio aside again, Ella remembered what the doctor had advised her to do about the fever. Slowly she reached over to the table, taking a rag and after putting it into some cool water; she tenderly moved it over his forehead to cool it.
"Mother…," Jack's low tone voice managed to choke out.
His whole mouth was dry and he didn't have the strength to say anything more. He was drifting in his sleep and seemingly wasn't really aware of anything around him.
He thinks that I'm his mother? What must he be dreaming of to confuse me with his mother? She wasn't sure, if she should be honoured or shocked due to this misunderstanding. Hopefully he would wake up, before her aunt returned. Not only would it be better for him, it was also a most selfish wish, for Ella couldn't tell her aunt about rescuing him without admitting to her that she had ignored her commands.
She herself was getting tired, no wonder, as she had spent the whole night up to look after Mr. Dawson and she prepared to do whatever needed to help him and so whatever necessary. Scanning the room her eyes finally landed on a book. Yes, that's it, she would read him some story. While she started reading, intending to do her best, she couldn't know how her actions were only driving Jack further into his comatose-like state.
'The doctor said you knew some rest. Come on you stay in bed,' gently she had shoved him back onto the bed.
His mother had been horrified at first, when she had heard what had happened at Lake Wisota. Jack hadn't followed her orders, gone their alone and broken into the sea. Her anger however, had been soon replaced by gratitude.
'But…'
'No, but's…now you're going lay here, while I'm telling to a story.'
She had then taken out a book from the shelf and through his illness he had heard of Tom Sawyer and his friend Huckleberry Finn, of Treasure Island, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table…before in even became aware of his illness, he his health was restored.
Ella's voice however wasn't soothing like his mother's and it disturbed him more than it was of any assistance. Of course Ella, unlike his mother, had no idea what had really happened, before she had found him lying on the ground and she was just doing what she thought best.
'Do you think that they'll find any riches on this island?'
'I'm sure they will,' she had guaranteed him, causing Jack to smile.
Even at this young age he had managed to make people feel better, just by looking and smiling at them.
'I want to become like Jim Hawkins, when I'm older.'
'I thought you wanted to be some famous artist?' her voice had cut in.
'Then I'll find some hidden treasure myself and be happy forever,' he had exclaimed sitting up strait in the bed.
Unexpectedly her expression had turned dark.
'Now, my boy, being rich doesn't make you happy. Never forget that,' her voice harsh and warning.
Jack hadn't quite understood what she had meant, at least not before he had met Rose.
"Rose…," he got out stopping Ella in her attempt to wake him up.
She tossed the book aside, realizing that it didn't help much.
Rose?
So that was her name, the name of the woman in the drawings.
"Yes, damn it…I'm so stupid," she scolded herself.
She reached for the portfolio again, aware now that she needed to tell him about her.
"Mr. Dawson…her name was Rose, right?" she asked him tenderly hoping he would show her some sign of reaction.
Rose, what about her?
She died.
Why was this girl suddenly speaking about her?
"I want to help you, but you've got to open your eyes and tell me what happened."
Still nothing, not even was there the smallest amount of response.
Jack seemed to be have a nightmare again, tossing and turning around in the bed.
'I'm sure you'll become a great artist once, Mr. Dawson.'
"I looked at your pictures. They're amazing. The woman is quite beautiful. Have you been in love with her?"
She took a glance at the clock; it was past three in the morning. If her aunt and Mr. Lindsay came back now – they had the gone to some musician festivity, which Ella refused going to, telling them that she was tired – certainly they would asked her what she was still doing up now.
Ella had talked to her aunt on the phone about around midnight, not telling her the exact details, but promising her that she would go to bed soon.
"Mr. Dawson, come on…you got to wake up," her voice was now almost demanding as if this would make any difference.
She laughed over herself. Maybe it would be better to go to bed as well?
Ella was about to get up, but was stop by a grip on her wrist.
Mr. Dawson was finally waking up.
"Rose…," his voice was weak at first and slowly his eyes fluttered open. "Rose…," he repeated his eyes scanning the room. "Where am I?" he muttered next.
"She isn't here, Mr. Dawson," Ella chose to answer his first question.
At this Jack's smile disappeared. Who had been talking to him then? Oh of course…it was her.
"So it was you," he said his tone not actually overjoyed, but quickly remembering that he had been outside on the streets last. "What happened?"
Didn't he really know or was he just confused by the surroundings?
"I found you...somewhere in the poorer parts of town. You were…are gravely ill and still need to stay in bed and I guarantee you that I'll observe you…," she made a sign with her index finger, but smiling at same time.
He was seriously ill, but she didn't want him to feel any more sick than he was already. She had once been told of the importance to make sick people feel healthier by telling them funny jokes, so they didn't have time to think about their illness.
"This room...?" he wondered not remembering his being as fancy.
"It's mine. I thought it would be better for you to restore your health near, rather than in your own nasty room," she loved again this time full of nervousness and shame. "Are you hungry? I can tell the cook to make you something to eat."
Surely she wouldn't be happy to be woken up now.
But Jack just stared into space not answering.
Suddenly it dawned on him. He had been on the streets, in the freezing cold and then...the next things he could think of was someone reading to him. Only he didn't quite know what really happened and what was just his imagination. Certainly his mother was really dead, but Rose? Now that one still seemed unreal to him.
"You saved by life," he stated blain and simple. "I'm sorry and I was so…I was so mean..," he stammered.
Ella shook her head.
"No, please don't think about it anymore. I'm glad I was there. But now you've to tell me everything that happened and I won't before everything's out," Ella said to him stunned about her own self and her sudden ability to seem strong.
Jack watched her carefully and finally decided that if there was anyone, who could be of any assistance to him, it was this girl.
"Alright," he said mentioning for her to help him sit up into the bed, which she did. "It all started on a ship…"