AN: I actually got choked up writing this chapter, but I promise the angst is almost done. It's just going to make what comes after that much sweeter. I really didn't intend on this becoming a slow burn, but thinking about it, based on the time it kinda had to be. Edwardian values were quite different, and I try to keep this as accurate to the time period as I can.


Of course nothing could be easy on this trip. Our train was delayed for hours in the backwoods of Pennsylvania, waiting for the line ahead to clear. Will had woken from his nap, and had immediately focused on the papers. I tried to make light of them, but he seemed to take them in stride. Except for the Journal. I could see a flush rising in him as he read, and he very calmly folded the paper back up. But when he looked to me his eyes were wild, "I'm going to kill him."

"Will, it's just idle gossip."

"He said that you're bedding not only me, but the other officers!" He stood, raking his hands through his hair as he paced the length of the car. He paused, pulling his jacket off and throwing it onto the bench before he resumed his pacing. "That you're a whore and your family's name means nothing."

I stood, catching his elbow as he walked by. "Will, you know it's not true. I know it's not true. This is exactly what they want to happen."

"They?" He shook his head, "Who do you mean?"

"The Reichsters, they gave the interview and started these rumors." I reached for his hand, pulling it from where it was clenched in his hair. "They want you to react like this, it's how they sell papers. I'll just have to give my own interview and fight back."

"But how can they print this?" The tension seemed to be leaving his grip, I could easily slide my fingers between his. "What are they trying to gain?"

"They're trying to affect our business," I pulled him back over to a bench, shifting closer to him as I felt the train begin pulling again. "If they make our name scandalous enough they think people will stop contracting with us."

"Would that happen?"

I snorted, "Maybe for those in New York society who use us, but most of our smaller clients won't care. I'll do my best to keep it from getting out of hand, but I can't imagine our business failing because of a gossip column." I slid closer to him, letting my foot brush up against his. "Trust me, it will all be fine."

We both started as a knock sounded from the door connecting us to the rest of the train, a voice calling out. "Miss Dalian? We telegraphed ahead to New York about the delay and received a telegram for you, from your mother. May I come in?"

I gave Will's hand a squeeze, then launched myself to a chair away from him. "Yes, please." The door was only open for a moment, the conductor seemingly wanted to get this over with quickly, for he dropped the telegram on a table and immediately turned around and left. I shook my head, marveling at his efficiency. "I think I could have been in your lap and he wouldn't have even noticed."

Will gave a chuckle at that, coming over to stand behind me. "Ana," He murmured, sliding his hands around my shoulders. "You must stop being so tempting."

I looked up from the telegram, giving him a smile as I folded the telegram. "Will, you are quite tempting yourself, you know."

"What did she say?"

"She will arrive at the house tomorrow to ride over to the funeral." I sighed, leaning back into the chair and the feeling of his hands on my shoulders. "And she contacted our lawyers immediately after her arrival, they've expedited the will reading. It's on Wednesday, I'll have to be back for that."

"So you'll only be in Washington for two nights before coming back." His hands began to rub at my shoulders, "I'll be glad when we have a month in the same place." I leaned my head back into his chest, feeling him work at the knots that were in my shoulders.

"Don't stop yet Will," I closed my eyes, enjoying how it felt to have him touch me. "When you're finished, I'll work on yours."

I felt him place his lips against my hair, "Ana, if you touch me right now I can't be held accountable for what happens." I laughed at that, reaching up to press my hand against his waistcoat. I felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. "Perhaps that was a bit of an overstatement." After I felt like I could move my shoulders again, I drew him over the bench. I threw a cushion onto the floor for him to sit on in front of me, and he leaned his head back into my lap as I began to work on his shoulders. They were tense, and my thoughts of slipping my hands under his shirt vanished. It took most of the trip to get them loosened up, and he swung them freely as he stood. "Ah, much better."

We busied ourselves, setting our clothing and the car back to rights as we steamed into the station. Bags in hand, we headed out after giving the conductor a tip for bringing the telegram. One of our coachmen had been waiting by the platform and quickly took the bags from us as he led us through the crowd. He looked back, "We weren't expecting you to bring Mr. Murdoch, Miss."

I breathed in the smell of the city as we left the station, spring rains and smoke and all kind of activity. "He offered to escort me to the funeral, I could not turn him down."

"Well, Peggy'll have a fit but it's not like we don't have the room." He chuckled, opening the carriage and placing the bags inside. I stepped up, gathering my skirt around me to allow Will to follow. He sat next to me, and I drew the curtains across the windows. Reporters lurked everywhere in this city, and the last thing I needed was for them to see Will and I together in the carriage. The station was so busy that we had been lost in the crowd, but our carriage was known. We'd taken it to too many parties for it not to be.

As expected, Peggy was in a right state when I entered with Will. The flowers had all been removed from the foyer, and I was grateful the cloying scent was gone when Peggy started in on me. I had already begun to develop a headache, the scent of dying flowers would have been too much. "Miss, you should have told us to expect Mr. Murdoch. I haven't seen to anything, and it's so late."

"Peggy," I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to relieve my headache. "It's alright. We're only here for a couple nights, we don't need the whole house readied for us. My rooms will be fine."

"Miss, with your father's funeral tomorrow, are you sure that's the thing to do?" Peggy cut her eyes to Will, then back to me. "People have been talking."

"Yes." I spoke firmly. "We're heading up now. Please send some dinner up."

"Of course, Miss." Peggy bobbed, turning and heading for the kitchen. My rooms proved a bit of a respite, Will stepping across the hall to change. I availed myself of my dressing room, letting the smell of my own home relax me. It smelled of the lavender sachets in the cedar wardrobes, the slightly acrid smell of firewood burning, and the salt of the sea air that blew in from across the harbor. It was not the most usual scent, I imagine it might baffle people unused to it, but it was home. Dinner had been brought up, a rack of lamb with spring peas, and Will had come back dressed in his pajamas. The food was delicious, as usual, and we devoured the meal before retiring to bed. Will fell asleep almost immediately, and I found myself jealous of that talent.

I tried closing my eyes, slowing my breathing and letting my mind drift but sleep would not come. I turned, stretching myself out and trying to relax my body, but still nothing. Will grunted as I tossed again, and I gave up. Whatever sleep I was going to get was not going to come now. I got up, pulling the blankets back over Will, slipping into the sitting room and closing the door behind me. The fire had burned down to coals, and I turned the lamp on my writing desk on. If I could not sleep, I could at least work on what I was going to say at the funeral. I pulled my stationary from the drawer in my writing desk and set to with a pen.

Sleep was not the only thing that wouldn't come, and the blank paper stayed that way for awhile. I racked my brain, what could I say? How could I wrap everything that Father had meant to me into words? He had been my father, he had held me when I cried, danced with me at parties when I was little, and always made sure that I knew he loved me more than anything he had in the world. But those were my memories, that was what he was to me and I didn't want to share that. I didn't want Father to merely become Gareth Dalian. He was mine, and I couldn't share that. But what else could I do? I had to say something, but how could I do that without losing Father? My heart couldn't take it, and I spent a few minutes crying quietly. All that I managed to scribble down were some memories to share, nothing that meant too much to me, ones that I could share, and little notes to try and prompt myself to say something. Perhaps the other speakers could inspire me, for what I felt about him could not fit into words.

I managed a few hours of sleep on the chaise, gaining a crick in my neck for it, but morning came quickly. I drew on the mourning gown I had last worn for Mrs. Astor's funeral, a long and high necked black taffeta that covered me from neck to ankle. The sleeves were tight around my arms, buttoning down to the wrists where they met the black kid gloves I wore. Peggy assisted me in getting the mourning jewelry on, all in jet and gold. The dreaded crepe veil hung from the black hat, but I tucked it up so I could see as I made my way out. Will was in the hall, adjusting the mourning band on the arm of his black suit. Even his bowler had a mourning band wrapped around the crown. He didn't speak, but gave me a slight smile as he offered his arm. I took it as we made our way downstairs, the house was quiet. Quiet enough that I could hear the slight rumbling of the motor as Mother's auto came into the carriage yard behind the house. She had already made it to the parlor by the time we reached it, looking out at the black draped carriage that was waiting for us. I moved towards her, "Mother, it's so good to see you." I stepped forward, half expecting her to embrace me, but she did not move.

Her skin was more pale than I had ever seen it, the heavy black drawing any color out of her. She looked at me from behind her veil, "Anastasia, I see you managed to make it back."

"I'm sorry I was late, the train was delayed. But I'm home for now." I took her hand, trying to get some response, "We all should probably get started out." I looked back to Will, trying to catch his eye.

He stepped forward, bowing his head to Mother. "Mrs. Dalian, thank you for coming to ride over with us."

"Us?" Mother's voice was clipped from behind her black veil, which she angrily shoved back. "What does he mean, us?"

I stepped back. "Will is going to escort me to the funeral."

"I'm your mother, that's all the escort you need."

"Please Mother, he only wants to support us through this."

"Anastasia, do you think his presence will go unnoticed?" Mother drew her hat off at this point, waving it in emphasis. "The reporters will already be crawling around, and to have an escort, not of the family or our friends, will only bring more scandal onto us. And onto him."

I flinched at that. "I understand Mother, but he offered and I would not want to spurn him."

"If you were engaged it might be permissible, as it is, it is simply too much for a funeral." Mother stalked to the window, taking in the black carriage waiting in the bright spring sun. "I am sorry Mr. Murdoch, but I must insist that you remain here."

"Mother, please. Don't be like this, not today." I sniffed angrily, rubbing at my nose with the black trimmed handkerchief I had pulled from a pocket. I looked over to Will, and I had no doubt my desperation was writ plain on my face. I would be bidding a final goodbye to Father today, to only have Mother by me would be torture, a reminder that we were all that was left.

Will cleared his throat. "Mrs. Dalian, please let me speak for a moment." He waited until Mother had looked aside at him and nodded before he continued. "I recognize that my presence will draw attention, and that as far as the papers know, I am only a guest of your daughter's." He tactfully left out what some of the papers had been saying, that I had taken not only him but the other officers to my bed, that we engaged in drunken revelries all hours of the night. Will reached out and gently took my hand, "But I have come to love your daughter, and once this business is settled and I am working once again, I intend to propose." I squeezed his hand tightly at that, feeling a blush break out "So would it not be better for these reporters to see me by her side from the start? So that when we marry it is not such a scandal?"

Mother turned around then, her face drawn. "You want to marry her?"

"When I can offer her some support, yes."

"And where do you intend to find employment, Mr. Murdoch? Will you be continuing with White Star after all this?"

I flinched at her harsh tone, but Will kept calm. "If they will still have me, then yes. If not, I will seek employment with other lines."

"And if they will not have you?"

"I shall seek any employment that I can, even if it is merely as a stoker on a cargo ship." Will's voice had grown bitter, "I do not intend to marry your daughter as a beggar."

I looked to him, "I am sure that we can employ you, Will."

"I can find my own way." He shook his head, "But I do not intend to take my time about it. Mrs. Dalian, please let me at least escort Ana to the funeral." He lifted my hand, kissing the knuckles. "I want to be there for her."

The silence between the three of us seemed to stretch on endlessly. I could feel Mother looking me up and down, her eyes lingering on where Will held my hand. She flicked her eyes to his face, "You may come, but you will be quiet and respectful."

"Of course," Will bowed his head, "I would not dream of doing anything else."

"And Mr. Murdoch?"

"Yes?"

"If you are serious, I expect there to be an engagement within the year. And a wedding the year after. You have eight months to find some suitable form of employment if you must," Mother placed her hat back on her head, adjusting the veil. "And you will not discount Dalian Shipping from that possibility." Will set his jaw, but he nodded. Mother headed out first, and I gripped Will's hand tightly for a moment before letting it go.

I turned to him before I pulled my veil down, "Will, you could work for us. It would not be that big an issue, plenty of people employ friends and family."

"I don't want you to be my source of income." He wouldn't meet my eyes, "I want to be able to provide for you, and not with your own money that you've paid me."

I settled the veil, then stepped up to him, wrapping my hands in his lapels as I straightened them. "If we do marry Will-"

"Not if, Ana." He stared at me through my veil, "When."

"When then," My heart was in my throat, "When we marry, you will be a part of the family, and the family is involved in the business."

"I'm not made to be some paper pusher, Ana." He gently pried my fingers from his suit, "I'm a sailor."

"I know," I brought my hand up to brush against his cheek, "I wouldn't want it any other way." I could hear the horses stamping in their traces, and Will quickly took my arm. We settled across from Mother in the carriage, the black curtains drawn against the light. It was quiet as the horses set out, and only the sounds of the city made their way in. I wish I could have thought about something to say, but it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. The day was bright and warm, the people on the street enjoying the sun after the blustery days of last week. Even getting to the church felt wrong, Reverend Johnson waiting on the steps to greet us and usher us inside. Will was sent to a seat up front, while Mother and I remained at the front to greet the arriving guests. I studiously avoided looking at the gleaming wooden casket at the front of the church, surrounded by massive displays of white flowers.

"Thank you for coming," I seemed to repeat endlessly as what seemed to be hundreds of people crowded in. I recognized a few, Abraham and Morgan the most prominent among them, but it was a massive crowd of black clad people that stared at us from the pews when the doors had finally been closed and Mother and I made our way to the front. I barely paid attention as the Reverend spoke first, reading several verses about death and life and expounding upon them. I couldn't even bring myself to sing when we all stood, for if I opened my mouth I knew I would begin sobbing. Will kept hold of my hand the entire time, as Father's friends came forward to share stories about their time with him. Abe spoke, with a great many pauses to collect himself, about how Father and he had almost come up through the company together. He had been a junior officer when Grandfather had decided to pack Father onto a ship for a year in order to get him familiar with the workings of the company. How they had ventured all over the world on this trip, and he had found Father stoking an engine after a fireman took sick.

Eventually though, it was my turn to speak. I rose and unsteadily walked to the pulpit, thankful for its support as I grabbed onto the sides. My scribbled notes I set on the podium of it, and I glanced down to them. The garbled writing seemed meaningless, and I looked out to the crowd. They were all here because they had loved Father, they had spoken so kindly about him, were weeping over him, and I could say nothing. I looked over to Will, who had taken Mother's hand since I had left. Mother, her eyes red, clasped it tightly. I felt my lips tremble, but I saw them both nod to me, a confidence they had in me. A confidence that I lacked. I could do this, but I would do it for them. Sharing Father with them wouldn't mean losing him.

I drew in a shaky breath through my nose, then spoke. "Thank you all for coming today." I heard my voice warble, and gave up trying to keep it level. "You were all friend's of my Father, of Gareth, and have spoken so eloquently about what he meant to you. But only I can speak about what he meant as a father." I felt a tear trickle down from eye, "He was everything to me, I never knew a day where I didn't see him or hear from him. Every time he left he would wire back each night, telling us about what had gone on and that he loved us. He taught me to dance a polka when I was little, how to ride a horse. He was my father, and I loved him. And now he's gone. And I don't know what to do."

My voice caught, and I pulled my handkerchief out to cover the sob that wrenched its way out of my throat. "But I know he wouldn't want me to spend all my time mourning him." I blinked, tears sticking to my eyelashes. "He would want me to remember the better times with him, rather than the end." I wiped at my eyes, taking a moment to gather myself. "And so that is what I will do, and I would ask the same of you. Let us use this moment to mourn my father, to mourn Gareth Dalian, and bid him farewell. But tonight, I would ask you all to raise a glass to him and to share a story of your time with him, rather than focus on the fact that he is gone." I turned to the coffin then, reminding myself that it was empty, that it was nothing but a wooden box. "But he was my father, and I loved him. And I am going to miss him so much."

I fell apart then, collapsing against the pulpit but managing to keep my sobs quiet. The Reverend proved himself a good man, taking me and guiding me back over to my seat. Will took one hand, Mother took the other, so that three of us were together. But all I could do was cry and let them hold me, and hold them as tightly as I could. I couldn't even think, all I could do was feel the loss of Father, the hole in my life where he had been. I heard the Reverend give some closing remarks, thanking the guests for coming, but I did not care. All I cared about were the two people holding onto me, the people I cared the most about.

I managed to collect myself as the pallbearers took the casket out and the guests filed out of the pews on their way home, I still crying but able to move as we stood and followed. A hearse had drawn up outside, and it led the procession of carriages as we made our way to the graveyard. It was a small group, only the hearse, the carriage with the pallbearers and our carriage rolling along the brick path through the gates of the graveyard. It was a beautiful little place, more like a park than a gloomy field. Only the tombstones, and the occasional statue of an angel, gave away its true purpose. Our family had a small section of the graveyard set aside, marked by a wrought iron fence and a gate with our name above it. It had been a popular trend when Grandfather bought it, and he and Grandmother had been the only plots in it.

Until now.

I clutched at Will's hand as I watched the pallbearers move the coffin through the gate, but when I stood to leave he didn't move. I looked back, but he shook his head. "This is your duty, not mine."

"He is right, we are his family. We should bury him." Mother spoke quietly, and stepped out. I let her take my hand, grasping her tightly as we moved forward. Mother drew me on, and I was suddenly staring at the empty grave, the casket held on ropes as Reverend Johnson intoned the classic lines about ashes to ashes and dust to dust. With his nod the pallbearers set to lowering it, letting the ropes out slowly.

I spoke quietly as it was lowered, more for my benefit. "He's not there, he's out in the ocean that he loved."

"Yes," Mother was quiet, "It does not make it easier though."

The dirt spattered across the lid, covering my voice. "A steward found me on the Carpathia, he had a message from Father." Her veil stirred in a slight breeze, but she remained still. "He said Father knew about his condition, that he stayed back because he wanted to be himself at the end. That he loved us and would miss us."

A small sob escaped, "I don't know how to go on without him."

"One moment at a time," I sniffed, "And then an hour at a time, and then a day. We can't look back or we'll be lost." The grave had been filled enough that we no longer heard the hollow thump of it hitting the coffin. "He wouldn't want that." I watched as the dirt slowly rose, until the grave had been filled, the gravedigger and Reverend gone, and it was only the two of us. I didn't even try to read the stone, knowing that all it would make me think was that he was gone, that he had left a widow and a grieving daughter behind who felt lost without him. That my life now seemed to split in two, the time before Titanic, and the time after. A time filled with my family, the fights and fun times that we had, a time where I found the man that I loved and spent a few wonderful days together. And then a time when my family was sundered, and I was lost in the world, with only Will and Mother by me now. And I had no idea what was to come.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mother bring a handkerchief up under her veil, "Your Mr. Murdoch, do you love him?"

"Yes," I said simply. "I do." That was the one thing about this part of my life I was sure of, that I loved Will, just as I loved Mother. I didn't know what would happen, if my future would be a happy one, but I knew that I loved them.

"Then do not let him wait for too long." Mother pulled her veil aside, her face shining with tears. "For I want a grandchild before I join your father, I want to know that our family will continue and that you will have a future."