A/N 2/15/2020: Longer chapter, but I hit a writing groove and just went with it. I suggest y'all go back through and re read this one, just because I've made a few subtle changes, mostly to spelling, but some to smooth out the story a bit. I hope y'all also enjoy this newest bit. Let me know. Peace, Love, and Pop Rocks ~Angel

Rose seemed to have better ideas as to what to do with her day, other than harassing Cal for her amusement. This suited Cal just fine, as he had his own plans he wanted to see to. The first of which, was hunting down Isobel. She wasn't all that hard to find, he thought. Then again, one only had to know where to look, and Cal always knew.

He found her in the library. Lounging as much as decorum would allow in a public place, reading a decently sized book that she held demurly in her walked up to her, taking measured steps and ensuring that she heard his step without being obnoxious in his gait. She looked up, and smiled as her whole being seemed to let out a tension she didn't even know she carried.

"Caledon," she said softly. That tone of voice could always, and will always, make him want to fall to his knees and worship her. He knew then, if he didn't know before, that he could never be with any other but his beloved Belle.

"Isobel," he said just as softly, though whether he said it as such so as not to break the intimacy of the moment or the quiet atmosphere, one would have a hard time guessing. "I was wondering, if you would care to accompany me to tea. Or, if you would prefer," he added, suddenly hitting on an idea he knew she would love. "I could request we take tea in here. I would hate to take you away in the middle of your story." He gestured to her book and she chuckled.

"It's a story I've read many times, Cal. I've even read it to you once," she said, handing him the book. Looking down, he saw that it was Wuthering Heights. He shook his head.

"I still maintain that it is the single most ridiculous story I've heard. Heathcliff is a violent, sadistic, simple minded, abuser even by today's standards. I say that Catherine's death was a blessing, so that she wouldn't have had to see how badly her dearest love would have abused her or her child had she lived. And her death, just gave him the excuse he was looking for to let those sadistic feelings out all the more. The man threw a knife at a pregnant and infatuated Isabella for heaven's sake!" he said passionately.

Isobel chuckled. "These days, I only read it to relive cherished memories. Otherwise, I agree with you. Tea sounds wonderful. I would love to take you up on your offer. But wouldn't your fiancé be looking for you?"

Cal barely withheld a wince and shook his head. "No, she is amusing herself elsewhere today. She wouldn't be caught dead in a library unless it was for knowledge to use for personal gain, so this really is the perfect room to hide from her so to speak."

"Her loss, my gain. Join me," she said, gesturing to an empty seat as he waved to one of the serving staff and ordered tea.

"Tell me, do you still keep track of baseball standings?" he asked her. As he expected, she lit up.

"Of course! Dad and I went to go see the last of the Championship games where the Philidelphia Athletics wiped the field with the Giants. Dad was sure Philly would lose. Won me some decent pocket money off of the championship games."

Cal shook his head. "I see finishing school knocked that boy like behavior out of you," he said with a wide smile and a heavily sarcastic tone.

"Never!" she said back, clutching at an imaginary string of pearls.

"So tell me, what holds your interest most these days?" he asked her.

Seeing the genuine curiosity in his eyes, she answered. "Fashion. The Lady Duff-Gordon was kind enough to design a few gowns for me while we were in Southampton."

"So some of those demure learnings did stick. As I recall, your friend Alice couldn't get you to model a dress for her, even if she had to pull your hair."

Isobel shook her head gently. "She wants to see everything as soon as it's either hit the racks or she's designed it. Not to mention, everything is to her taste, whether it suites the person or not. Lady Duff-Gordon took my views and ideas in stride and incorporated them into the designs," she explained.

"And is the dress you are wearing one of her creations?" he asked, casting an appreciative eye over her form.

She nodded. "Yes, nearly everything I have with me now is designed by both of us. I am saving the best, of course, for the supper hours."

Cal leaned forward, the smirk he knew she loved, the one she always said was a mix of mischief and self deprication, though more of the first in this instance, as it was his goal to tease her. "Then I wait with bated breath to see you later this evening," he said lowly. A lovely little flush infused the cream of her cheeks as she gave a smile of her own.

"Then I must dress to impress."

o0o o0o

Cal ran into Lovejoy on his way to his room to change for the supper hour. If his Isobel was going to dress to impress, he could do nothing less himself. They gathered in his rooms and as Cal was removing his tie and jacket.

"The young miss was in young Mr. Dawson's company all day. She sought him out in the third class and they primarily walked the deck together. I do believe he was giving her spitting lessons when her mother and her party joined them just before it was time to ready for dinner," Lovejoy reported.

"It doesn't matter any more my friend. I can not keep up the pretense any longer. When we arrive in New York, I am breaking off the engagement," Caledon told him.

"It's Miss. Isobel, isn't it?" Cal turned to the Valet, who was laying out his supper clothes. Lovejoy looked up and chuckled at the look on his young charge's face. "I remember how happy you were when you first started courting her. And how happy she was with you. I did try to dissuade your father about this match, but, being a valet, I was ignored."

"Will you continue to keep an eye on Rose, Spicer? I will break it off no matter what, but if I could have proof that she was being unfaithful first, may save my hide with the public," he asked.

"Of course, sir," Lovejoy said with a bow. He was turning to leave when Cal addressed him again.

"Is there any way you could corner young Dawson for me. I wish to have a word with him before we dine."

"Right away, sir,"

It was as he was finishing his tie when Jack was ushered in, half dress himself. The young man blushed and looked down at his feet.

"Mrs. Brown was helping me. How you all can dress up in such clothes everyday is beyond me," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll admit, they aren't all that comfortable. I particularly despise the constriction around the neck. But it is what is expected of us. Most of us grow up in society, so we just take it along with the good. I wanted to have a serious talk with you, Mr. Dawson," Cal said amiably, gesturing to a chair.

They both sat. "I wanted to first apologize for my behavior on deck last evening. I had run into an old acquaintance and between the shock of that and other daily pressures, I was at the end of my patience. I am sincerely sorry my frustration was aimed at you."

Jack looked momentarily shocked, but then nodded in acceptance. "In truth, I would have rather had the 20$, Mr. Hockley. Suppers are provided just as well in the third class, so this shindig isn't really necessary. With 20$, I could have found a roof for the next month, maybe. Gotten some more paper or something."

Cal nodded. "I am willing to give you said 20$ and my invitation to dinner tonight will still be good."

Jack nodded, "I appreciate it."

"I also wanted to ask, if you know what type of woman you are getting involved with, in persuing Rose," Cal asked, looking Jack in the eyes. Jack's eyes widened a bit as a blush again found his cheeks.

Cal chuckled. "Rose and I hold no love towards one another, Mr. Dawson. This is not news to anyone in our social circle. She seems happy to persue you for her own reasons. Mostly to pass the time. But I wonder if you know what kind of woman she is."

Jack shook his head. "She is a girl of many contradictions. Her actions very seldom line up with her true thoughts and intentions, do you understand? Speaking candidly, from my point of view, she drops hints to me that she wants me to be attentive to her and only her, yet when I ask for her opinion, she seems to think that I have already dismissed her ideas as childish and unimportant. She doesn't want anything material from me, and yet it was she who demanded the parlour rooms with the praminade, and a blue diamond necklace that was last legitimately worn by royalty. She is spoiled, and a child."

Jack shuffled uneasily, not wanting to just take the man's word for it. Cal understood this. "I will give you the 20$, and this night's supper. Did you have plans with her this evening?"

"I was going to invite her to a party below decks. The third class passengers are striking up a band and making use of thier gathering hall for it," Jack tells him reluctantly.

"I will have plans of my own, no need to worry. Observe Rose at lunch. Then take her to the party below decks and observe her there. See with your own eyes what I see. I will send my man to you sometime tomorrow to have another talk, if that is agreeable to you?"

Jack nodded, then stood. "I really should get going, Mr. Hockley. If I'm going to make this fancy dinner, that is," he said with a smirk and a hand held out to shake. Cal slapped a 20 dollar bill in his hand. Jack laughed and shook his hand before leaving.

o0o o0o

Jack was in awe at the first class accomodations. Particularly the grand stair case. It was a masterpiece with a clock right at the top. The perfect meeding place to meet Rose at later that night. He was just watching the men around him, trying to see and mimic thier mannerisms when he heard Cal enter with Rose's mother, coming down the staircase.

"Did you know there is 7 thousand tons of Hockley steel in this very ship?" Cal asked Ruth as they descended.

"Hmm, which part?" Ruth asked, uninterested.

"All the right ones, of course."

"Then we'll know who to hold accountable if there's a problem," she sneered, just as they passed Jack. Ruth either ignored him, or genuinely thought him invisible, but Cal gave a nod and a long suffering roll of the eyes towards Ruth.

"She'll be along," he said, as he caught sight of the Countess of Rothes. "There is the Countess," he said as they met up with her. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles gently.

"Hello, my dear."

"Good evening, Cal," the Countess said in greeting before she turned her attention to Ruth.

It was then Jack caught sight of Rose, descending the stairs. He thought she looked beautiful in a dress with salmon colored, though to him it looked like an interesting shade of pink, dress with black lace, threaded with black and silver beads. She wore white dinner gloves and enough jewelry for him to understand that she was definitely comfortable in this society.

They met each other at the bottom of the staircase, and Jack, gaining a sudden burst of confidence, took her hand and kissed her knuckles lightly. Then he explained himself.

"I saw that in a nickelodeon once, and I always wanted to do it," he said with a nervous chuckle, and Rose gave a laugh. He offered her his arm and they walked towards the dining room. In a few steps though, they found themselves behind Cal and Ruth.

"Darling," Rose said, and Jack took this moment to look into her eyes. Really look at her. They were vindictive. The eyes of a troublemaker. "Surely you remember Mr. Dawson?"

"Dawson?" Cal asked, as he looked the young man over. Cal was impressed. The youth cleaned up well. "Well, it's amazing. You could almost pass for a gentleman."

Jack looked at Cal, and knew he didn't mean anything snide about it. With thier conversation earlier, he knew Cal himself was uncomfortable.

Jack sucked his lips and raised his eyebrows. "Almost," he said.

"This is extraordinary," Cal said genuinely as he turned and once again offered his arm to Ruth.

They all made thier way into the dining room where Cal and Ruth struck up a conversation with the Lady Duff-Gordon.

"There's the Countess of Rothes," Rose whispered in his ear. Jack noticed now that she was heavily perfumed. As if it was coming from her very skin. She looked around and then directed his attention to a middle aged man with a young brunette on his arm.

"That's John Jacob Astor. The richest man on the ship. His little wifey there, Madeleine, is my age and in a delicate condition," she wispered in conspiritorily into his ear. Jack brightened. He loved children and wished to have his own someday. "See how she's trying to hide it?" she asked.

"Quite the scandal," she said somberly. Jack didn't like her tone. As if the fact married couples should never have children. "And that's Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, Madame Aubert. Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with the children, of course. And over here we have Sir Cosmo and Lucile, Lady Duff-Gordon. She designes naughty lingerie, among her many talents," she says smugly as she waves to the woman, who politely waves back.

"Congratulations, Hockley. She's splendid," Sir Cosmo says to Cal.

Cal chuckled wryly. "Why, thank you," he says with some degree sarcasm that Ruth seemed to miss. Lady Duff-Gordon merely closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn't like Rose, knowing that the young woman only cared about the fact the designer made under garments. Not the beautifully designed dresses that graced runways every season.

"Care to escort a lady to dinner?" Jack heard at his elbow. He turned to see Maggie Brown smiling at him.

"Certainly," Jack said enthusiastically, offering his arm, before they continued on.

"There's ain't nothin' to it is there, Jack? Remember, they love money, so just pretend that you own a gold mine and youre in the club," the older woman told him before hollering out, "Hey, Astor!" to the man they were approaching.

"Well, hello, Molly. It's nice to see you," the man said in a pleasant mellow voice.

"J.J., Madeleine, I'd like you to meet Jack Dawson," Rose introduced.

"How do you do?" Madeleine said kindly, shaking his hand.

"Pleasure."

"Well, Jack," Astor said in his turn. "Are you of the Boston Dawsons?" he asked curiously.

Jack was stunned for a moment. Yes, he did have family on his father's side in Boston, but he hadn't heard from them since his parent's funerals. Figured they wouldn't want anything to do with him since they hadn't bothered to look for him.

"No, the Chippewa Falls Dawsons, actually," Jack said, just containing the stutter that wanted to escape.

"Oh, yes," Astor replied.

Late Evening, April 11, 1912

The meal was as wonderful as any other on Titanic; and so much more. It was simultaniously a painful experience as I couldn't sit near my true beloved, having been herded between my shrew of a betrothed and her mother, and pure ectasy, when I saw Isobel. She was all that was angelic in a soft green gown that cinched with a sash at the waist and had a delicately pleated bust line. The simple white gloves and a modest flower hair comb in a plaited up hair style was everything her. Simple. She sat with her father on the other side next to Mr. Dawson, who had Maggie Brown to his other side, with whom Charles struck up a lively conversation about the younger man's travels on the west coast of the United States. I only hope neither Rose nor Ruth could see the looks I would often steal at the obect of my affections. Rose herself had a mean streak a mile wide. Her mother was absolutely ruthless, pun fully intended.

o0o o0o o0o

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson. I hear they're quite good on this ship," Ruth said with a malicious smile.

Jack looked at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. He was willing to play the game. "The best I've seen, ma'am," he said with a solemn smile. "Hardly any rats."

There were scattered, nervous chuckles from some of the table, but Charles and Isobel laughed genuinely. Cal thought he had never heard a laugh so beautiful. Instead of embarrasing himself by scattering his wine in an attempt and immenant failure for the drink, due to his shaking hands, he explained Jack presence in thier company.

"Mr. Dawson is joining us from the third class. He was of some assistance to my fiancee last night," he said as he selected some fruit and cheese from a platter a server was presenting him.

"It turns out that Mr. Dawson with quite a fine artist. He was kind enough to show me some of his work today," Rose said softly to the table.

"Rose and I differ somewhat in our taste of fine art. Not to impugn your work, sir," Cal said. Jack, knowing that his work wouldn't be all that welcome in the present setting, sharply shook his head and waved off Cal's concern.

A server made his way over to Jack, and Rose trying to catch his attention, coughed into her napkin. But Charles had her beat, taking the napkin from the youth's plate himself, and sneakily gesturing to the waiter beside him. Then,, seeing his confusion at the assemblage of silverware at his plate setting, Isobel whispered, "It's daunting, I know, but start from the outside and work your way in. You grab the wrong utensil, dad and I have you covered. Personally, I'd be happy with a chilli dog from Coney Island, but-" she trailed off, and sitting up straight, shrugging her shoulders. Jack was staring at her in awe, but she was picking her own foodstuffs off of her own server.

Cal saw this, and felt a stab of jealousy. He knew, so long as he was attatched publicly to Rose, he had no say; and he contented himself with the fact Isobel had her attention elsewhere. He was brought back by Mr. Ismay's voice rising above the soft dinner chatter.

"He knows every rivet in her, don't you Thomas?"

"Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews, truly," Rose tells the shipbuilder honestly.

"Thank you, Rose," the man said humbly.

They were serving the caviar when a waiter asked Jack how he liked his. "No caviar for me, thanks. Never did like it much."

"You and me both, kid. Tastes too much like cold salty fish jelly," Charles said. Isobel softly sighed and shook her head as she put a small amount of said fish jelly on a piece of crisp.

"And where exactly do you live, Mr. Dawson?" Ruth asked, turning the table's attention back to the young man's situation.

"Well, right now, my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humor," Jack says honestly.

"And how is it you have means to travel?"

"I work my way from place to place. You know, tramp steamers and such," he says, scratching his nose, knowing it'd ruffle her polite society feathers, and wanting to get a silent jab in. "But I won my ticket here on Titanic at a lucky hand at poker. A very lucky hand."

Ruth did bristle at his disrespectful gesture. The boy may as well have picked his nose! And Cal was loving every moment of it.

"All life is a game of luck," Colonel Gracie boomed.

Cal, putting down his wine glass, shook his head. "Hmm. A real man makes his own luck, Archie. Right, Dawson?"

Jack hmm'd and nodded.

"And you find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" Ruth asked with distaste.

Maggie Brown looked at the woman as though she wished Ruth was the one with no roots. Then she'd know how the small folk got along.

Jack took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering. "Yes, ma'am, I do. I mean, I've got everything I need right here with me. I've got air in my lungs and a few blank sheets of paper."

He picked up his roll and took a big bite, not even bothering to finish said bite and swallowing before he continued, causing Ruth to cringe, and Isobel and Charles to have eerily similar smirks widen thier cheeks.

"I mean I love waking up, not knowing what will happen or who I'm gonna meet. Where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night, I was sleeping under a bridge, and now, here I am, on the grandest ship in the world, having champagn with you fine people." Jack raised his glass to the waiter for more of the sweet alcohol. "I figure life's a gift, and I don't intend on wasting it. You never know what hand you're gonna get dealt."

Cal had a cigarette in his mouth and was searching his pockets for some matches, when he was coming up empty. He had taken the slim stick into his fingers and was going to ask a waiter for one when Jack saw him.

"You learn to take life as it comes at you. Here you go, Cal," he said, tossing him a small box. Cal caught it and nodded his thanks. "To make each day count."

"Well said, Jack," Maggie said.

"Hear, hear!" exclaimed Gracie.

"To making it count," Rose toasted.

"To making it count!" everyone copied.

Jack, Isobel, Charles, and Caledon all wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but all withheld thier laughter. Normal conversation resumed for the next 45 minutes or so. All talking to everyone or thier neighbors at one point or another. Things were winding down with a story Maggie was telling about a great misshap her husband made.

"-But Mr. Brown didn't know I'd hidden the money in the stove," she said between gales of laughter. "So he comes home drunk as a pig celebrating and he lights a fire."

Rose leaned over and whispered to Jack. "Next, it'll be brandy's in the smoking room."

Right on cue, the Colonel stood. "Well, now. Join me in a brandy, gentlemen?" he asked the men of the table.

Rose gave a wry chuckle. "Now they'll retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe."

"Ladies, thank you for the pleasure of your company," Bruce Ismay said gallantly as he stood.

Cal leaned over the back of Roses chair and offered one last try of chivalry. "Rose, may I escort you back to your cabin?"

"No, I'll stay here," she waved him off. Cal sighed, shook his head, then nodded to Jack. The blonde stood and handed Maggie her pencil back.

"Joining us, Dawson?" Colonel Gracie asked. "You don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?"

"No, thanks. I've got to be heading back," Jack said amiably.

"Probably best. It'll be all business and politics. Wouldn't interest you," Cal said. Jack chuckled.

"Certainly not," he said lowly. Cal gave his arm a pat and started to walk away.

"But Dawson, good of you to come," he said, spinning and tossing his matches back to him. Lovejoy followed Cal, who leaned in.

"He's taking her to a party below decks. Follow them. Keep an eye out for any inappropriate behavior," Cal tells him.

"Anything I find, sir, will come straight to you," the valet said as he broke off down another corridor.

Charles caught up with Cal and passed his own message. "Belle will be in the library again in twenty minutes. Get her to talk to you Caledon. It will do both of you a world of good."

Cal nodded as Charles took his shoulder firmly. "Take care of my daughter. We'll take care of the rest around you. Your valet isn't the only one on the look out for you."

With that remark, the older man left, back towards the dining room. It was odd for Charles to miss out on a good cigar and brandy.

o0o o0o o0o

Charles caught up with young Jack just before the main staircase. He had business, and unlike his daughter, he wasn't afraid to get dirty to do it. Isobel was all morals. He loved her for her principles; but for the ones you love, sometimes, you need to do bad things to ensure thier happiness. He never does anything without all parties knowing thier parts and the consequences, but he will stoop low. Such as now.

"Young Dawson!" he calls softly. Jack turns and sees one of the men at the table approaching him. "I have a business proposition for you, young man. And I promise, it pays."

"What do you have in mind?" Jack asked curiously, his eyebrows raised.

"One thing my daughter and I share, is our need for complete honesty. So I'll be honest. You are close with young Rose DeWitt Bukater, are you not?" Charles asked.

"Sort of. We only met here on Titanic. I know her fiancée doesn't even like her, so he's giving me the option to know her. He told me to watch Rose at the dinner and I know we aren't compatible just from that. She wants to be someone who lives free of society, but she is comfortable there. She likes the routines and the doors the money opens. She wouldn't know what to do in hard times. In short, she's a brat. I figured, with Hockley's blessing, I can show her a taste of the third class here on the ship safely, and then we go our separate ways when we dock."

Charles nodded. "You mentioned you were effectively homeless. If you agree to my arrangement, I can give you a home in a fashion. I have land in Texas. It's just sitting there. I need it to turn a profit soon, or I'll just start losing money. I'll let you live there, provided you farm the land. You'll work for it. After 5 years, I'll sign it over to you and your family in total. All yours, and no one can touch it."

"And the catch?" Jack asked. It sounded amazing to him to have a home again. Especially since he would be using his hands to work for it.

"You are right. Rose is a brat. A child. Caledon is in love with my daughter. I would do anything for her happiness, young Jack. She is my daughter. My child, do you understand?" Jack nodded. "I want you to seduce Rose. Keep her interested in you. She needs to be the one to break the terms of the engagement to Caledon."

Jack was shocked. This was more like the back room deals he was more expecting from the high society types. But he had to admit, this Charlie guy was offering him a sweet deal.

"And how do I know you'll pay up after all is said and done on my end?" Jack asked, distrustful.

"I'll have it in writing. You can bring forward as many people as you trust to witness it's signing. I'll produce only Caledon, his valet, my own, and Colonel Gracie. He is a man of honor, if a bit boistrous," Charles said a bit bashfully.

"So long as you also invite Ms. Brown. I trust her," Jack said. Charles smiles brightly and held out his hand.

"I'll have papers drawn up tonight. Come by the church service in two days. I'll have the papers, even the deed for you, and everyone gathered by then."

It was then, Rose appeared, she saw Jack walking up the stairs towards the clock as the man who embarrassed her with his daughter the day before, walked down the hall, towards the first class berthings. She wondered what that was about before she decided it didn't matter right that moment. Rose walked slowly to the staircase as Jack was watching for the clock to chime the hour. She mounted them, and Jack turned, smelling her heavy perfume.

"So, do you want to go to a real party?" he asked with a glint of fun in his eyes.