I could feel the blood rush from my face at Roger's words, although Will reacted immediately. The parcel of presents was thrust into my hands as he charged past the boy, calling out for Sylvie. I looked down to the boy, trying to smile. "I'm sure everything will be fine, where is your mother?"
"She was in the parlor, but I think she may be in the kitchen." Roger stepped forward, grabbing my skirt. "Can you go with me?"
"Of course." I extended a hand, taking his tiny fingers in mine as we stepped inside. I could still hear Will, his voice rather panicked, but when we came around the corner to find the parlor he looked a bit calmer than he had at the door. Sylvie, bent over a cane as she tapped her way around the room, glanced over at me. I kept my smile in place. "Sylvie, are you alright?"
"I'll be better once you get your nursemaid away from me." She grumbled, still walking around. "It isn't nothing that I haven't dealt with before, but you'd think I was a bloody mess at the bottom of the stairs the way he was carrying on."
Will stepped up to offer his arm to her as she kept walking. "You really should be resting if you aren't feeling well."
"It's the baby that isn't feeling well." Sylvie snapped, although I could see her rein herself back in. "Really Will, they won't let me lay down. All they want is for me to walk, it's fine, really."
"But the cane," I muttered, looking at the item in her hands.
She lifted it, showing the fine wood and silver tip. "My foot isn't happy, had a storm blow through and set it to hurting, and with the walking, well, it's not helping much either." She shook Will off her arm, continuing around the room. Roger, still clutching my hand, watched her warily.
Will came to my side, his voice quiet. "She has a clubfoot, but usually she manages just fine. I've only seen her like this a couple of times." He glanced down to Roger. "Your mother is going to be just fine, she's just not comfortable."
"But the baby," Roger turned to Will, slipping around so that he could hold my hand while hiding behind Will's legs. "What wrong with the baby?"
"They're fine!" Sylvie's voice was harsh, and Roger cringed away. She sighed, leaning heavier on her cane. "Really Roger, I'm fine, the baby's fine, we're just not having a good day."
"Perhaps it would be best if I took the boys out." Will said, seeing how Sylvie was pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "We could go to the pantomime and let you have a little peace."
I looked to Will, "Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea." I turned to Roger, still hiding behind Will's trousers. "Would you like to spend the day with Uncle Will and then when you come back we can give you your presents?"
"Go get Trevor." Sylvie spoke up, her hand over her belly as she settled into a chair. "I'm sure everything will be fine when you come back, you boys deserve to go have some fun."
"But Mother-"
"I said go get your brother, Frederic Roger Lightoller, and do not make me say it again." The firmness in Sylvie's voice would have done a general proud and Roger quickly scampered of to do her bidding. She let her head rest against the back of the chair, a small smile on her face. "You'll learn to get your own to hop to quick enough, Anastasia."
"Ana," Will turned to me, his voice low. "Stay with her for me, will you? I don't want her to be alone."
I nodded, kissing his cheek. "Go have fun with them, make sure they get tired." He nodded, and he quickly turned to the boys who had quietly reappeared behind him. I nodded to them, "You behave for him boys, or no presents when you get back."
"And such presents we have for you!" Will leaned down, hoisting Trevor onto his shoulder. "So you two had best be on your best behavior or no presents and I'll tell your father."
"We promise, Uncle Will." Roger stepped up and took his hand, and the three of them set back out. When I looked back over, Sylvie had her eyes closed and was breathing deeply, her hand stroking her swollen belly over and over. I glanced around the room, seeing the signs of a hard night. Handkerchiefs on the floor, books and toys left strewn around and I moved to begin cleaning up.
Her voice was much quiet when she spoke. "You don't have to do that, Anastasia."
"It's no trouble." I stood up with an armful of toys. "Where are the boy's rooms? I can get things cleaned up while you rest." She mumbled some directions and I headed upstairs. It was easy enough to put the toys away in the toy chest, but then I considered the state of the nursery. Beds were unmade, half the curtains were on the floor and a good deal of mud had been tracked inside. I sighed, then set myself to cleaning. I had to thank God for Morgan Fields and her temper, otherwise I wouldn't have known what to do. But whenever she caught Ezekiel and I making a mess, she set us to cleaning it. Which meant that I knew how to fix the curtains, remake the beds, and bring up a pail of water to clean the mud.
It was as I was coming back in from pouring the dirty water outside that I stopped in the parlor to check on Sylvie. "Feeling better?"
"Somewhat," She had her eyes closed and seemed focused on taking long, deep breaths. "Sit with me for a moment, please." I lowered myself into the chair next to her, noting that the parlor was slowly filling with warm afternoon light. Sylvie took a deep breath before speaking, "Has William ever been caught in a memory of that night?"
I blinked. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."
"Where you haven't been able to rouse him, where he is stuck back in that night."
"No, I can't say that I've seen it." I glanced over to her. "Although someone else may have. Did Charles suffer from that?"
"Yes, he did." Her eyes opened, but they were far away. "We'd been at our club and he was rather sore from playing tennis all afternoon, so he went upstairs to have a bath." She looked to me. "An ice bath, he was up there for so long that I grew concerned and went to find him. He was just staring, and I couldn't get him to notice me." Her hand pressed firmly on her swollen belly. "I had to call others up to move him to a bed and I stayed with him until he warmed up and came out of it, but he won't speak to me of what it was."
"I'm sorry, Sylvie. That's horrible, but he recovered?"
She nodded, "It took a few hours for him to come out of it, and then days before he was back to normal. The only thing I can think is that it was the cold that affected him so, that it was as cold as that night." Sylvie hesitated for a moment. "Were you in the water that night?"
"No," I shook my head, although it was my feet that burned at the memory. "But the lifeboat I was in took a wave and it had all our feet soaking wet. I'd never felt such cold, Sylvie, and I don't think I will ever again. When they were warming us up on the rescue ship I cried when they wrapped my feet in hot towels."
"Ah." She was quiet, her eyes now focused. "So it seems I shall have to keep an eye out for cold water to prevent him suffering like that again."
"I think that would be a good idea." I reached over and patted her hand. "Perhaps some extra sweaters for the colder months?"
"And a new coat." She seemed to enjoy me providing her with ideas on how to keep him warm, and we passed the time coming up with even more elaborate ways to prevent Charles from ever getting that cold again. By the end of our discussion Charles would look like a marshmallow stuffed into a set of oilskins when he set out for winter in the North Atlantic and Sylvie had a smile back on her face.
We both glanced up as the door opened, Will coming back with Trevor asleep in his arms and Roger yawning as he came back into the parlor. He settled Roger onto the settee before speaking, "Well, they ought to be plenty tired for you."
"Thank you, William." She didn't try to rise, but did embrace Roger when he came up. "Did you have fun?"
He nodded. "We went to the docks and then on a ship and then to the pantomime and we saw a lady fly."
"My goodness," I smiled at him, "Where did she fly to?"
"Neverland." Roger yawned, coming to wrap his arms around his mother's legs. "Is the baby better?"
"Much better," Sylvie ran her fingers through his hair. "We just needed a little rest. Now, do you want to open your presents before Uncle Will and Aunt Anna leave?" Trevor roused himself at that, and the packages were quickly brought over. The boys were overjoyed with the boats, and made Sylvie promise that Charles would take them out to try and sail them when he returned. When Trevor pulled out the copy of Peter Pan, he smiled as Sylvie pressed a kiss to his head. "Just like the play, although no flying for you."
"Why not?" Trevor mumbled, cradling the book to him as he laid back down on the settee.
Will reached over and took my hand, drawing me up. "Well, I'm afraid the house is right out of pixie dust, so no flying. Now, Roger get your brother upstairs to bed and be good for your mother."
"Yes, Uncle Will."
Sylvie used her cane to leverage herself up. "Thank you both for coming, and especially for helping me deal with these two."
"It was not a problem," I embraced her briefly. "And don't forget how many sweaters we decided on."
"An even dozen." She smiled, embracing Will briefly and cajoling her boys to come and give us both a brief hug around the knees before heading upstairs. Will had obviously told the cab they had taken to wait, for he handed me up into it and we quickly set off through the streets of Southampton.
I looked over as we drew close to the house. "So which ship did you take them on?"
"One of the ones at your docks." He opened the door, handing me out and leading me up the steps. "Can't quite remember the name, but the officers and engineers thought the boys were a delight."
"You know, they're partly your ships now too." I teased as we moved to the parlor. "So perhaps it would just be best to call them ours."
"I like the sound of that." Will chuckled as he settled himself into a chair, pulling his pipe from a drawer and tamping some tobacco down. "Our house, our ships, the two of us together." He grinned around the stem as he lit a match and puffed to set his pipe alight. "So long as you don't plan to drown me with sweaters. What was all that about?"
"Oh, Charles." I trailed off, biting my tongue for a moment. "I'm actually not sure if I should share it."
"Come on now, you know Charles would." He teased, pinching my arm lightly.
I shook my head, "Actually, I'm not sure he would."
"Ana, what happened?" The pinching fingers were withdrawn as he gently brushed his hand over my arm. "Is it what upset Sylvie to start?"
"I think so." I mused, looking over to him. "And you can't ever tell him I told you this."
"I swear it, Ana, now tell me."
I pursed my lips, trying to think of he best way to phrase it. "He had an attack-"
"An attack of what? Nerves? The heart? Sylvie should get him to a doctor."
"Will, Will," I reached over, soothing him. "Give me a moment to finish, love. He had an attack of memory, I think would be the best way to put it."
"Memory?"
"He took an ice bath after playing tennis, Sylvie went to check on him and he was just shivering and staring. She had to call for others to help get him to a bed, and he wouldn't tell her what it was after. She thinks, and I think she's right, that it was a memory of that night. He was remembering being in the water."
"Ah," Will's face had fallen as I had spoken. "Poor man."
"She wanted to know if you've ever had a moment like that, and I told her I didn't think you have." I reached over, taking his hand. "Have you?"
He was quiet for so long that I had given up on him answering, and the clock ticked away. A puff of smoke emerged from him, "I have." He glanced over, his smile so tight that it looked painful. "It was during a winter run on The Anastasia, everything was calm and cold and when I looked out during my night watch, it was like I was back there. I was just waiting for that damn berg to show up, and it felt like I couldn't breathe for a moment. I don't know how long I was like that, but I started to notice that things were different. I was on a smaller ship, I could hear Moody and the quartermaster talking behind me, and the moon was bright and full. I didn't fully come out of it until James came up with a cup of tea."
I stood, coming to sit in his lap and press my forehead to his. "Why didn't you tell me, Will?"
"Ana," He set his pipe down, placing his hands around my waist. "I didn't want to worry you. It was just a moment, and it went away after awhile. Besides, I have too much to focus on now to remember that night." He stood, lifting me into his arms. "Like getting you into bed. I don't suppose you've wired Peg about that larger bathtub at our dock house?"
"Not yet." I giggled, wrapping my hands around his shoulders. "And Will?"
"Yes?"
"Don't hide those moments from me, I don't want you to be alone in them."
"So what areas were affected by vibration the most?" Will asked the Cunard officer who was currently giving us a tour of the Mauretania, and was getting peppered with probing questions by my erstwhile husband. "And the correction to resolve it?"
The third officer, at least I thought he was based on his cuff markings, continued walking us along the promenade. "The worst of the vibrations were in the second class areas in the stern, not anywhere for you to worry about, sir. That area received reinforced columns and adjustments were made to the triple screws to prevent a reoccurrence."
"I heard people could hardly sleep because of them." I chimed in, having noticed that the officer had basically dismissed me as Will's questions had grown more technical. "I've also heard that the ship has a tendency to take a pitch down when she crests a wave. What causes that?"
'The straight bow." Will answered quickly. "Ours are angled so the ships can take the waves easier."
"Ours?" The third officer turned around to look at us. "Are you both involved in some maritime industry?"
"Yes, my wife here owns a shipping company." Will smiled at me, "A rather large one at that, and one that I hold a commission as chief officer in."
I shamelessly batted my eyes at Will. "He's always trying to learn as much as he can, I hope you won't take offense."
"Of course not, ma'am." The officer nodded, "Is there anything else I can do for the both of you?"
"I just have one last question," I pointed up to the top of the room on the boat deck, with all the ventilation hoods clustered up there. "Why so many hoods?"
"Ah, well, I'm afraid I am not quite sure of that." He was edging away from Will and I, clearly anxious to return to the bridge and get away from nosy passengers. "I can submit your question to the company and have them mail an explanation if you would like."
Will nodded, taking my arm. "Yes, thank you, we both would appreciate it." The officer practically scurried away, and Will and I began to slowly walk back up the promenade. "Honestly Ana, I know she's the fastest ship available, but did it really have to be a Cunard?"
"I wanted to try her." I shrugged, looking up again. The funnels provided ventilation for all the below deck areas, fresh air pushed in by the speed of our passage, but they looked an absolute mess. "Although her lines leave much to be desired."
"It comes from the actually using all the funnels for the engines, you know." Will chuckled, looking up at the four red and black towers streaming smoke behind us. "The Olympic has a dummy funnel, we only used three."
"Ah, well I do enjoy her lines much more. And I vastly prefer White Star Line," I squeezed his arm. "Such handsome ships, crewed by such handsome officers."
"And carrying such beautiful passengers." Will teased right back, nodding to a steward who opened a door to allow us back into the first class quarters. They were much finer than the ones we had during our trip over, polished marble and dark wood in every corner. I always enjoyed watching Will when we walked through these areas, he was still getting used to the luxury of what was now his class. Every meal he was astounded by the full spread of china and crystal, and he had mentioned when we had come back one night that he was glad we kept a much simpler life back in New York when compared to this.
Our cabin was much the same with fine furnishings and a very comfortable bed, although it was a bit lighter with everything being made out of oak. I turned to the mirror on the wall after Will had shut the door., unpinning my hat. "You know, I wonder why Louise and Reggie didn't take the cabins on either side of us after the original residents moved after the first night." It had been rather funny to see the former occupants badgering the stewards into giving them different cabins.
Will had laid across the bed, his eyes closed. "You know damn well why."
"I know that I made you yell out curses that first night." I grinned, turning and catching him rake his eyes across me.
"And I made you scream for that."
I settled next to him on the bed, running my hands over his jacket. "Well then, would you care to disturb our deckmates a little more?"
"I love it when you're an impertinent wench." He caught me around the waist, tumbling me under him.
I squealed with laughter as he did, feeling his lips find my neck. "And I'm hardly going to let you read anything with pirates if you start calling me wench."
He pulled back, bowing his head in contrition. "Perhaps I should start reading romances, oh glorious ruler of my heart."
"I think romantic poetry is fine enough. Now, come here my handsome Scotsman, your wench has need of you." I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him back down. God, the feel of him on me was a pleasure that I had never even considered when I had first learned what men and women did with each other. But now, now I clutched him to me as he pulled me tight to him, our movements dislodging us from the bed as the ship took a slight roll.
"Ana, God." He groaned as I used the moment to slip a hand between us, caressing him though his trousers. I wished I could get my fingers to his fly, but the ship rolled in the other direction and we wound up having to fight for our balance on the floor. Will's voice was strained, "I don't think we can stay in the bed with it like this."
"The wall then?" I withdrew my hand, backing towards the oak paneled wall. "If we use the forward one we won't have the roll." He was on me in an instant, hands roving over my waist and up to my breasts from behind me. I panted, wishing that I could get his actual hands on them but far too desperate for him to take me. I wanted him in me, I wanted to feel myself stretch around him as he pounded me.
"I wish I could take you like a real pirate," Will muttered, his hands fisting in my skirts as he pulled them up. "Bend you over a cannon, God I'd die to be able to do something like that."
I pressed myself back against him, wiggling my rear against the growing hardness in his trousers. "I don't think I can get a cannon, especially after the bathtub."
"Wench." He chuckled, shoving me forward against the wall. "Brace yourself."
I turned around instead, "I want to see you." I shifted my legs so he could stand between them, then placed my hands on his shoulders so I could wrap them around his waist. It was the work of a moment for him to have his fly open, pull his jacket off, and line himself up with my entrance. I sighed as he entered me, "Oh Will, take me. As hard as you want." He sprung forward at that, grunting as he shoved himself hard up into me. I cried out, leaning forward and surrendering to the pleasure washing through me.
"Ana, fuck." Will grunted, bending his head to my neck as he continued thrusting. "Do that again." I repeated my cry from earlier, and it only seemed to drive him further into lust as he fucked me. I found he liked an alternated mix of sighs and groans, cries and whispered curses as I drove him onward. I found I liked them myself, although as I felt him strike deep within me over and over, I could feel myself lose track. All I wanted was him to keep going, keep hitting that spot within me that sang with pleasure.
"Christ!" Will cursed as I set my fingers to his collar, freeing his neck just in time for me to gently bite him through his shirt. It was all I could do to not scream as the pleasure raced through me, and I didn't want to have a steward come by and lecture us on proper etiquette when fornicating onboard. I felt Will come shortly after, and he kept me in his arms as he staggered back to the bed, sitting and then laying us back down.
I pressed kisses to where I had bitten him. "I think we can call this honeymoon a success."
"I think you've cast a spell on me, I don't know how I'm going to live without this during my trips."
"It will just make the return all the more sweeter."
"Aye, although you might not be able to move the next day."
