I woke in the morning smiling, my heart light and my mind completely transported. Marie took one look at me and declared me completely impossible, buttoning me up into my most conservative dress for the Divine Service being held in the lounge. It had a high lace neck, held in place by a large brooch, and normally I would have begged for something looser for it felt like it was choking me, but I found I just didn't care. After the Divine Service I could return and change for my afternoon promenade with Will, fussing about my dress now was pointless. The service was tolerable, barely, and I found myself staring at a clock and begging it to run faster. It took Mother reaching for my hand as she rose to realize that we were to sing a hymn.
The hymn was familiar to me, almost eerily so. Eternal Father, Strong to Save was a mariner's hymn, and I had heard it sung often. At church, at the launching of a new ship for our business, at funerals of sailors who had died during the trips they made. The lyrics were familiar, a source of pride, sadness, or simply a desire for the ones on the waves to be safe. The words suddenly took on a new meaning for me though, as I considered Will. He would be away often, on the sea to earn his keep, and I would not know anything until I got a letter or a telegram. He could be ill, shipwrecked, or a hundred other things, and I would be none the wiser.
Part of me thought to offer him my support, that I would pay for him not to go out. But I had seen Father crumple when Mother had put her foot down, forbidding him further voyages until his health had returned. He would linger whenever one of our ships left after that, watching her go until she was beyond the horizon. He always walked home slowly after that, head hung low. I could not imagine that for Will, let alone that his pride would let me be the support of him. He would want to go out, to prove himself and provide for me.
I laced my fingers together as I sung, praying for a merciful God to look on the man I had come to care for and protect him. "O hear us when we cry to thee, for those in peril on the sea." I prayed for protection for him from any harm, for God to see the truth of my feelings and guard him when I could not. I prayed for Will to come back to land safely every time he left, and even if our courtship failed, I would still pray for him. He had lost much already, he should have a future better than his past. I was almost fervent in my whispered prayers, which continued on after the service ended.
Mother slowly drew me to the side, away from the rest of the worshippers who were slowly filing out. "I had wondered when you would realize it."
My prayers ceased, and I wiped at tears I could feel spring to my eyes. "How could you stand it, when Father would leave? To know nothing? To keep on going to parties and acting as if the everything is alright when he could be ill or wrecked on some island?" I did not voice the thought that I had dwelled on, that Will could be dead and I would have no way of knowing. I could be visiting a friend and chatting over tea when he breathed his last. I knew that it was foolish, that those events happen so randomly that it was not callous to be performing some task unaware of what was taking place, but my mind kept coming around to it.
Mother drew me down to her, letting me lean on her. I could smell the lavender water in her hair. "It comes to all women who love a sailor. You pray to God and do your best to make sure that when he leaves you have set everything to rights. But it never gets easier."
"Surely you could have kept Father at home, kept him safe? There has to be something we can do to keep them home, where we can care for them."
"In his younger days your Father was barely home for a month at a time, always racing off to some new port or finding a new ship to sail. I knew when I married him that I could not change that, that I would share him with the sea. Even when I was pregnant with you he would set off, coming back with some little gift and a promise to stay longer. But he would always go back, and I would watch him leave." She brushed my hair back from my face, drying my eyes with her sleeve. "But I knew I loved him far more than he loved the sea, and that he would come back. I refused to consider any other option. And so will you. Pray for Mr. Murdoch as much as you like, but you will never be rid of those thoughts. You must be stronger than them."
"It is so hard though, Mother." I sniffed, trying to compose myself.
"Life is hard, my dear. And you will find others like us, who understand the feeling. You will come to love them as family, they will sit up with you if word is slow coming in, and if the worst should happen they will be there. Morgan Fields has been there for me when I thought everything lost, and I have been there for her." Mother said, moving off towards the staircase to head back to our cabin. "We have been lucky that everything turned out alright, but still, those worries will never leave." I followed, letting Marie change me into a day dress of ivory lace and blue ribbon. I tried to set myself to rights, to leave those thoughts behind. But they still echoed in the back of my mind, quieter now, but constant. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I swore I would not dwell on them. If those thoughts had any place it was in the future, now I would be bright and happy and meet Will for a promenade. It would be fun and I would forget those thoughts. For now.
Then I was off for the officer's promenade, but found my way obstructed by a group of passengers. I could see the DeWitt Bukaters among them, and they were moving up towards the bridge. Rose looked blandly on everything that was presented, and Hockley seemed bored all together. Ruth DeWitt Bukater made appreciative noises as Mr. Andrews spoke, but the questions she asked seemed inane and pointless. I stepped up to join them though, listening to Mr. Andrews as he began to explain various features of the bridge. I imagine the part of me that was my Father's daughter led me to pay far more attention to the aspects he pointed out than his other guests, to reason if there was a point to include them in the next ship we ordered built.
The Titanic's bridge was impressive, spanning the width of the ship if one included the outside wings. I had never seen it before, it was a very clean area. Three brass speed telegraph annunciators stood towards the front, the helmsman and his wheel farther back. The wood was bright and new, the walls a clean white that reflected the light coming in through the forward windows. It was much more spacious than the bridges on our ships, everything crammed close to free up space for more cargo.
A man came past me, a telegram in his hand. "Excuse me sir, another ice warning. This one's from the Noordam." He handed the message off to the Captain, brushing past me again as he went back. He must be working for the Marconi company. Practically every ship had one of Marconi's wireless sets and an operator to work it. It was not unusual to get ice warnings via wireless on a ship, I knew. Ever since wireless had come about ships would send each other warnings about anything and everything. With how many ships were in the water nowadays, ships were well informed of anything to expect thanks to this system. It rather reminded me of the gossips back home, and I wondered briefly if the wireless operators themselves gossiped over the air about their ships and passengers.
The wireless was also the reason for certain regulations, important enough that my ideas of gossiping operators was probably not accurate. I had spent half the night one time reading the British Board of Trade regulations because we had been wired that one of our ships was being refused permission to depart for breaking some rule, but it was rather garbled. It turns out the wireless was an older system and had to be replaced, for if the ship struck a derelict or some other obstacle her wireless would not have been able to reach the ships near her, a proper wireless turned the ship itself into a lifeboat the regulations said. The massive numbers of liners, cargo ships, and pleasure craft afloat practically guaranteed a swift rescue, so long as the wireless was operational. I had had to contact the Marconi company and arrange for a replacement to be supplied before the ship was cleared.
Captain Smith glanced at the telegram, tucking it away. "Not to worry, quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we're speeding up. I've just ordered the last two boilers lit." The group gave a slight stir, evidently taking that to mean we would instantly speed up. Mr. Andrews directed the rest of the group away, but I hung back.
He noticed me, "Miss Dalian, is there something I can help you with?"
"Correct me if I am wrong Captain Smith, but those boilers won't be putting out enough power to add to our speed for a day or more, right?" You could start a fire in a cold boiler but the initial fire would do little. The fire had to be stoked up, the boiler itself growing hot, before it could begin its job. That took time, it was not an instant reaction.
A smile broke through his beard and he chuckled. "Ah, yes. I forget you actually know about ships. We would like to see her at her top speed on the way into New York, but I am only planning on the additional steam to be available tomorrow."
"And the ice warnings?" I glanced out the forward windows at the smooth sea. It appeared clear ahead of us, and there was nothing to disturb the line of the horizon. We had been under fair weather and calm seas the whole time, perfect weather as fair as sailing went.
"As I said, they are quite normal. We will adjust if we come across any of them. The one's we have received so far are not the ice track."
"The ice track? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the phrase."
"It's what we call the southernmost route we take to avoid the ice coming down at this time of year, we're on it right now." He turned, his attention drawn by something. "Ah, Mr. Murdoch. Finishing your watch?"
Will stepped forward, coming in from the wings of the bridge, and nodded at Captain Smith. "Yes sir, I thought I had heard Miss Dalian and I had promised her an afternoon promenade. And here she is."
"She's proving to be quite knowledgeable about the ship," Smith turned back to me, "Perhaps you're learning from Mr. Murdoch."
I stepped towards Will, "I would like to think that I am, would you care to start our promenade now, Mr. Murdoch?"
He offered his arm, "Gladly, if you will excuse me, sir." He said as I took his arm and we swept out the other side of the bridge. It felt so good to hold his arm again, and I wrapped my other hand around so I could stand even closer. I could feel his leg through my skirt and petticoats as they swirled around us. Will walked on for awhile before finding a pair of empty deck chairs and sitting down. I arranged my skirts, watching as he lowered himself down into the chair across from me.
I nervously sat, fussing with my skirt. "I must admit Will, I am unsure of what to do in terms of how a courtship is to proceed."
He took my hand, wrapping his fingers around it. "It is nothing more than it was before, but it means more. Is that satisfactory, Ana?"
I giggled, "Ana?"
"I had thought to have a pet name for you," His blue eyes caught mine, "And you have already shown your disdain for 'Stasia. If you do not want one, merely say so."
"I love it, Will." I looked out, the sea calm and flat all the way to the horizon. Even if it had been thirty foot swells and hurricane winds I would have sat here, so long as I was by him. We simply sat for awhile, hands clasped together and looking out at the ocean, both of us in that contemplative mood one finds themselves in when looking out at the sea.
"What is your house like, in New York?" Will softly asked, coming to sit next to me on my deck chair. I hadn't even heard him get up, and now he was so close. Close enough I could see the lines of the knot in his tie, the bobbing of his Adam's apple.
I quickly looked up. "Well, it depends what time of the year it is. During the season we move to our Fifth Avenue house, but otherwise we're in the dock house."
"Dock house?"
"Father built it on the land grandfather had originally settled on, down by the docks. It's not as wide as some others, but it's seven stories of red brick. Although the top story is really more of an attic, where the servants live. But it has huge windows all throughout that look out on the harbor and all the ships that have docked. We much prefer it to the other, we only open that one up for a few months."
"Seven stories is small?" He chuckled.
I rolled my eyes, "Really, when you see the palaces on Fifth Avenue our homes are modest. Father didn't hire an Italian architect to design the dock house, it was a major scandal at the time."
"And what will we do in New York?" He moved closer to me, his leg up against mine and his arm gathering me close.
My mind could barely keep up with his question, the contact with him driving me mad. The feeling of his arm against my back, warm and strong, was enough to send my train of thought off the rails. "Well, there's always some party to go to. And there's shopping, and if you come back during the summer we'll be up in Newport and you can join us in the yacht."
"You have a yacht?"
"It's a small one, nothing compared to the Vanderbilts." I waved away his remark, remembering the massive ship that the family considered their little vessel. "But you could teach me how to sail it, couldn't you?"
"I could," Will said, drawing my hands into his. "Now at these parties, would there be dancing?"
"Of course, what else is there to do at a party?" I gave a shrug. Truth be told, after your first few parties, they stopped being so magical. It was fun to wear your new dresses, and to drink champagne and dance the night away, but usually these parties included a lot of time spent in shoes that pinched and listening to the inane gossip of the society matrons. It was always the same; the dresses were too revealing, the decorations too extravagant, the dances too fast and the partners far too close.
"And you wouldn't be embarrassed to bring a poor sailor into this crowd, who didn't know any of the steps?"
I stood, "Then I will teach you." This time I was the one who drew him up, placing one of his hands on my waist and the other in my hand. "This is how you start a waltz, and it's really quite simple. We simply turn a smaller circle while we dance a bigger one." The waltz was my favorite, it could be slow and graceful or fast and wild. And when you looked down on a ballroom from above it was like watching a flower bloom as the ladies's skirts whirled out.
He started moving, pulling me along. "Like this?" His footwork was sure, guiding us not only around the deck chairs but across the promenade deck. Far too sure to be a novice.
"Why Mr. Murdoch, was this all a ruse?" I looked up at him, reveling in the pressure of his hand on my waist.
"Ana, surely you could have guessed that. I hope you do not think me completely hopeless." Will looked down, "Perhaps you were wanting to be fooled." I simply shook my head, letting him reverse and guide me around and around. I felt safe in his hands, he wouldn't turn into a chair or bump us against the rail. And I knew if I asked him to stop he would, instantly. Dancing with him, even without music, was wonderful. Eventually though his steps slowed, and I found myself moving my face up as he was moving down, our lips briefly pressing together. I closed my eyes, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips, the touch of his hand against my cheek. I wound my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.
He pulled back, blue eyes wide. "Forgive me, I did not intend to-" I cut him off, dragging him behind a wall where we would be out of the way. Tucked away in shadows where we wouldn't be seen. I could hear him saying that it was wrong, that we should not be doing this, but when I drew him back down his hands came down firmly on my waist, pulling me flush against him. I felt hot and cold at once, and the feeling of him against me was driving me mad. I pressed myself hard up against him as I kissed him, curling my hand around the back of his head. I had kissed boys before, but this was different. This wasn't with some boy, all wormy lips and bumping noses. This was a real kiss, with a man. His lips were firm, and I could have sworn I felt his tongue flick against my lips. I replied in kind, and he gave a slight groan. I tried something new, letting my teeth gently pull on his bottom lip. He pulled me tighter, and I could hear him breathing hard through his nose. I wanted to kiss every inch of him, more than anything I wanted to drop my lips to his neck, and even lower. To taste the skin on his chest. But I could feel his fingers brushing my cheeks, and I was loathe to move away from them. Eventually we broke apart, breath ragged and our foreheads pressed together.
I looked into his eyes, only a thin ring of blue showing against the black of his pupils. "There, now we have both taken advantage of the other."
"Ana, we can't be seen doing this." His voice was low, "I won't have people saying I was forcing you into something. You have a reputation to uphold."
I pressed my fingers to his lips. "Then we shall have to be careful."
Will closed his eyes, huffing out a breath. "Must you be so stubborn?"
"Of course, I won't go against my nature." I said, and then started as I heard footsteps moving by. Will drew us back further into the shadows, and I noticed they had lengthened. I had lost most of the day with him, and I wanted more. We stayed quiet as the person moved on, and eventually we were alone again. I dropped my head, disappointment lacing my words. "It's late, I have to go get changed for dinner."
"And I should get my own dinner before my watch." Will sighed, looking out. A goodbye kiss quickly turned into another round that left us breathless, and then it really was too late to stay away from our duties. He let his lips linger for a moment, then drew them up and kissed my forehead. "You have the most beautiful eyes."
I blinked, wishing I had asked Marie to do my cosmetics again. "I find yours far prettier, everyone always writes about blue eyes, not brown ones like mine."
"Then," He placed another kiss on my cheek, then repeated it on the other side, "I would think you would be bored of blue eyes after reading nothing but them."
I kissed his cheek, "If they're your eyes, I could never tire of them."
Will tucked my hand up against his arm, walking me back to the entrance for the lower decks. It was starting to get cold, and I was glad to have him next to me. I turned to him, "Thank you Will, for everything."
He flushed a bit, "I went too far."
"I wanted to go farther," I said softly, remembering the desire I had to feel his skin under mine, to drop my lips to his neck. "But we will have time for that."
"I do not know how long though, White Star tends to send us back out fairly quickly."
I drew his hands up, then decided to simply step up and kiss his cheek. I could feel a slight stubble under my lips, it prickled but felt nice. "Then we had better get used to writing each other, hadn't we?" He simply smiled, returned my chaste kiss, and we both went our separate ways, knowing we only had a few more days of our regular duties before we could have a break and spend a longer time together. Even if it was only for a day or two. I sighed my way through dinner, and back in my cabin I looked at myself in the mirror, touching my lips and expecting to see something different in my reflection. I suppose I did, a certain lightness to my eyes and I had never seen myself smile like I did when I thought of kissing Will.
In bed that night I let my mind wander, to think over what we could have done if both had not been called away by our roles. Perhaps I would have become a loose woman, I had never read in any of my novels about the heroine wanting to kiss the chest of her suitor. Or biting his lip. Maybe I was already loose. I knew the bare mechanics of the act of procreation, and that kissing could lead to it, but a definition of what exactly a loose woman was had never really been provided. Mother had always told me to not give out kisses like candy, to keep them saved up. Those boys I had kissed back home, we were young and curious about why kissing was so forbidden by our parents. To us it had seemed strange, that our parents could be so frightened by an act that we found so odd.
Now though, thinking of Will's kiss, I knew why they were worried. I knew lust was what sent men chasing after women, but it was the first time I could say that I had felt lust myself. A desire to be with Will, and only with him. To kiss him until I lost all sense of self, and feel his hands on my again. If he had suggested something further, I don't know what I would have done.
I would have considered it though.
