A/N: Thanks to you, my lovely readers and your dearest comments!

A warning ahead: Now, please, don't hate me after this chapter :-()

(Though you might be angry with someone else)

When Rose got out of the car, she paid the driver, thanked him and went up the stairs to the house, not once stopping.

Jack had been so sick again and to Rose this way the only thing she could do to help him.

The house looked like she remembered her family ones in Philadelphia; it even had the same boring white paintwork. Nervously Rose rang the bell, being greeted by a woman, looking her age, who led her into what must've been the living room.

The furniture – mahogany chairs, embroidered with flowers and a round table, along with the obligatory umbrella stand – indeed Rose felt like being thrown back in time. The woman or better girl offered her a seat.

"Mr Lindsay is still doing some business, but he'll be here soon. Can I offer you something in the meantime?"

"No, thank you," Rose declined taking in the strange scent.

"As you wish, madam," she said curtsying to her a little bit, before sitting down in the edge in a rocking chair – outside sewing, but Rose quickly realized that she was there to observe her.

It didn't take long for Rose to feel extremely uncomfortable being reminded of her own youth. Luckily Trudy had been a different character, helping her many times, when Rose was in trouble. Cal had never liked her, obviously knowing that she was committed to Rose rather than to him. Surely Cal wasn't fond of losing.

As the minutes ticked away, Rose became even more anxious.

What was taking him so long?

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to come here and she thought leaving.

Then, remembering Jack and what he had done for her, she understood or at least persuaded herself that there was no other way out. Due to the heat she was feeling, Rose got rid of her coat, laying it out of the sofa.

Trudy was a better servant.

"You have a nice home," Rose spoke up, trying to make up a conversation.

She didn't reserve an answer, only a cold suspicious stare, while the woman continued sewing.

She could've at least taken out a yarn too – Rose thought bitterly, gazing behind her back to seize a closer look. The woman wasn't very tall – as Rose recalled – and had her hair buttoned up.

Rose had to smile a little, when she picked up her needle again.

Roger Lindsay obviously hadn't bothered much with finding an appropriate spy.

The grandfather-clock told them that it had just turned four.

"What are you sewing?" Rose asked further and thought that she perceived some heated murmur of – What's that to you? – but again no direct response.

Her grim face never changed as well.

Before Rose was able to boost out another question, footsteps could be heard, not long after revealing Roger Lindsay. Rose stood up from her chair as she saw him walking towards her.

"Ah, how lovely you look, my dear," he said kissing the palm of her hand. "I hope you didn't have to wait long."

"No," Rose shook her head.

"That's good to hear."

"Lucy, I believe we won't need your services anymore."

So at last I know her name!

"As you wish, Sir," Lucy answered bowing her head again.

Roger's eyes wandered around, finally resting on the table and he hurriedly noted that nothing was standing on it. In a rush he had grabbed Lucy's wrists.

"Didn't I tell you that you'd serve her well?" he hissed. "Now what's this?"

Lucy's shocked expression reminded Rose once more of Roger's real personality.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

That didn't help her much as Roger's fist had connected with her jaw already, sending her stumbling backwards to the floor.

For Rose it wasn't this much of a surprise actually, as she knew of what this man was capable of doing. Seeing him already striking out for a second blow, Lucy still somehow dizzy haven gotten up again, she stepped forward to clear up this mistake.

Slightly touching his right arm, she began to sweet talk with him knowing he'd like it.

"Roger, darling, it was all a misunderstanding."

He turned his head, looking at her, a lot like Cal had back on the Titanic, when she had told him about the propellers. Roger was very similar to Cal in a way, but on the other hand completely diverse.

Roger was for sure even more short-tempered.

"You see, I told that I didn't want anything," she added putting up a smile.

"So…well…that's something else than I guess," he got out straightening himself.

Not very amazingly he didn't offer her an apology, simply expecting that she would leave them now. Lucy assumed correctly and even bowed again, before letting them alone.

Cal clenched his fist while holding Ruth's letter in the other.

Ruth had written him a letter stating she'd stay longer.

Damn it! What was this stupid woman still doing in Boston? Not that he wanted to have her here, far from it, but the explanation she had offered him was kind of bizarre to say the least.

I'm sure you won't mind, Mr Hockley, but life is keeping me busy.

"Oh, Cal, come to bed."

"I wonder that foolish woman is doing there," he asked himself out aloud.

Clarissa turned her face him – her eyes begging him not to think about it.

What could possibly have gone wrong now? You shouldn't leave women alone – that's for sure. They were only doing nonsense.

Cal would've given a fortune to know what was holding her back, but he couldn't just leave Fabrizio here with Clarissa. He looked at the letter again and tried to comprehend what she had meant. Ruth had mentioned the pregnancy of Ella, but not a word of Rose.

Was a pregnancy of some silly little girl preventing her from returning – Cal wondered, while walking around in the room.

Now this seemed very implausible. Ruth had never been one to care much for pregnant women, least alone for one she'd seen for a first time days before their wedding. He'd even heard a story of her giving up Rose to a nanny at the age of a week, for sure not breastfeeding her.

Why would she suddenly care about this stranger, when she never listened to her daughter?

He had read the letter over and over, but he more he did, the less sense it made. Ruth had always been the one to stay out of trouble – or better say had never been interested in other's people needs, never offering any help.

Had the sinking changed this?

"Cal, dear, what's this one about again?"

Rose had put up this silly affair or love as she had called it and Ruth…no you shouldn't let women have their own way.

"Oh, shut up," he yelled at her not liking to be disturbed.

I'd tell you, if I want.

Cal's anger was even more aroused, when all he received back from her was a smug smile. Clarissa knew that he could never hurt her, lazily stretching out her arms – yawing happily –lying back on the bed, while celebrating another triumph.

His head turned to the ceiling, pondering if Fabrizio was already awake. He wouldn't admit it, but during the last weeks he had grown quite fond of him. He was nice to work with and truly matched up to Clarissa and notably this gutter ratter, Cal in fact found his company to be very appealing.

At least he isn't asking me some stupid questions the whole time.

"Is this to your contentment?" Roger asked as Rose looked around the room.

It contained a canopy bed, which on the outside was looking very nice and romantically, but…Rose already shuddered inwardly.

Still time to go – a silent voice inside her told her.

"Yes, it's great," she put on a smile, denying her hesitations.

Rose never knew what Roger's next step might be.

It's just this night…just this night…

"Only the best for my, Lygia…"

Rose gulped feeling him coming closer, removing her clothing on one side to be able to kiss her bare shoulder. She closed her eyes, hoping to be shutting out the fear and especially the nausea.

She must've had goose pumps all around by now.

Surely her face was like that of a ghost.

"Wait," she acclaimed taking a few steps towards the other side of the room. She put on a brave face before continuing speaking. "I want to see the diamond first."

After all she couldn't be sure that he really had it in this possession? There was good a chance that he was betraying her to steal a night with her.

Roger started laughed, causing Rose to look at him in hate and frustration, her eyebrows wrinkled up to show him.

Was he mocking her?

"Are, my dear, I was already wondering, when you'd asked."

He couldn't wait to see her struggling underneath him again, but knew he had to first convince her of his humble motives. Rose was a lady, not some common whore from the streets, she had to treated with more delicate hands.

'I don't understand the purpose of all this. You've slept with her before. Why would it matter now? She didn't tell him then.'

'Right, Mrs Pearson, but that was before she had married him. It was her own choice not to mentioned a word to him, but it was her choice,' he had stretched out the last word '– after this it won't be anymore and she'll feel like a horrible cheater…'

Mrs Pearson had started laughing at this.

Indeed Rose would never be able to look Jack into his eyes again after that. No decent man would look kindly on a wife leaving on the brink of a serious illness to sleep with her lover. For sure Roger had prepared everything carefully.

Rose wouldn't be getting away so easily.

After this she would be tied to him forever.

'Her doubts are never going to leave her.'

"I'll be back in a minute."

Rose walked over to window, opening it as an unknown person was walking by.

Maybe she should call him?

"I don't hope you had thought of jumping now?" his tone was humorous.

So he thought this funny?

Rose was even more disgusted.

Alerted Rose faced him; not wasting a minute Roger walked past her and closed the window again.

"It gets cold," he simply stated both aware of the lame excuse.

"Have you got…?"

"Of course," he interrupted her holding up the necklace, even laying it down in her bare hands. "I'd never dream of deceiving you, my Lygia."

Rose observed the cold heavy stone; thinking of all its bad situations it had caused already, wishing that she had never seen it.

"Shortly, your husband will be able to return it."

What does he…?

Rose looked at him suddenly curious, her eyes flickered open in bewilderment and Roger, realizing that he was about to probably tell her too much, snatched the jewellery away from her. Thankfully she didn't ask any more questions, while he was dropping the necklace back into his coat pocket.

Then he got rid of his jacket, tossing it in the edge of the room, Rose's eyes following.

"It's cushier this way," he smiled again while walking towards Rose once more.

"You know I'm only doing this for Jack," Rose felt the need to remind him again.

As if he didn't know…

Frankly he didn't care at all why she was doing it, as long she was playing along with him. Rose seemed to have to desperate to make her point again.

Trying to remember him that she was married?

Or herself…?

Now, who do you want to convince, you damn whore?

For a second he was angry once more, when Rose stepped back again, just as he was about to remove her dress.

"I want to do it myself," she stated firmly as she began to slide down her dress from her shoulders, like she had done on the Titanic, when Jack had drawn her nude. Swallowing once more, she tried to think of him instead and his blushing red face.

This time there wouldn't be any devotion in it…

Fine, it she wanted it this way…

Roger smiled, seeing the garment landing on the floor.

At once Rose was feeling his ugly kisses on her neck again.