Chapter XXI: Hot Potato
A/N: Here's the time jump. Had quite a bit of fun typing this one up. Finally getting to introduce a character I've been chomping at the bit to bring in. Cowgirl Bookworm knows exactly who I'm talking about. She's been amazing. Looking forward to seeing what you all think! SSD
July 8th, middle of the night
Cecily should have known that Paul had been quiet. Far too quiet. And that he was far too talented at his job. Several 40 Thieves were out in the night trying to smoke him out of wherever he was hiding, some in DC others in New York.
Illicit Companionship by Paul Thornton
One sailor is not enough for Cecily Lethbridge, nor does it seem the bounds of matrimony bother her much either. The brotherhood of sailors doesn't matter much to William Murdoch as well. Sailors are known for sharing amongst themselves, for not even her brother will not break that sacred bond and offered up his sister to their guest.
The reporter has seen and heard of Mr. Murdoch's and Miss Lethbridge's multiple arguments, though can only understand the ones in English. The reporter wonders what Mrs. Murdoch thinks as she languishes in England?
The article had sent everyone into a frenzy. Obviously she and Murdoch were doing nothing of the sort. Cecily had sent Harry a telegram warning him of the article. She figured he was smart enough to know the article was bullshit, but it would still be far from pleasant to read. Also she'd wished Antin had taken Paul out in an alley and killed him all those years ago, consequences be damned.
Will had cursed upon reading it, crumpled up the newspaper, threw it in the fireplace, stalked off continuing his cursing in Gaelic.
To top it all off, she had not been sleeping well. On any other day she might have teased him, but her exhaustion was wearing at her mind. Cecily had already given up on sleep for the night and there was a pot of coffee with her name on it.
At least there were those old letters between her mother and aunt she'd found hidden in the attic to keep her mind occupied. And away from that damned song playing on repeat.
Cecily had just finished the second letter and her first cup when a tired voice called out behind her, "So you're the coffee thief." It was Will.
"It's not like I can sleep anyway. You're welcome to join me in drinking it," she pushed a cup towards him.
"Thank you, but I'll be looking for some tea." After looking around for it and not finding any, "Where is it?"
"A July 4th tradition of Roland's that Erik got him started on: Every bit of tea he can find he tosses into the nearest body of water. The new tea will be here tomorrow."
"That sounds exactly like something Charles would suggest to someone. What are you reading," Will asked.
"Old letters between my mother and aunt. I was exploring the attic last night when I couldn't sleep. Most of the ones from my mother are about my father, brother, and I."
"I would imagine your aunt's are about your cousins and uncle," Will answered.
"Mostly my cousins. She never said much about her husband. If you want to know why, read this one," Cecily pushed the relevant letter towards him.
It wasn't long before he said, "Your uncle was a rat bastard. Your grandsire as well. I imagine your father had plenty to say about the wedding," Will replied returning the letter.
"He made his displeasure so well known, that my grandfather drugged my father with opium the day of the wedding so that he would not object at the critical moment," Cecily could not keep the disgust out of her voice.
"What was in it for your grandfather, not that it excuses his actions whatsoever?"
"Business connections and a daughter with a title," she snarled back, "And the hatred of both his children."
"You're going to need something stronger thang coffee if you want to read more of these letters. Where's the whiskey," Will asked.
"In the green cupboard to your left. Bring two glasses," Cecily decided.
"Are you sure you want me to join in," Will asked when he brought the bottle and the glasses.
"Yes. I think we could both use the company. There are quite a few letters. Help yourself," she nodded to the pile.
The silence was companionable. The letters were nothing out of the ordinary until Cecily came across a letter of her aunts. It was definitely not to her mother!
My darling Arthur, July 8th, 1888
Alistair adored your gift of the sailor's hat. I took a picture of him in it. When he's older I am sure Brandon and Matt will laugh about it!
Which ship are you on at the moment? I hope you can visit again soon, for all three of the boys miss you and look forward to the stories you tell them of the places you've been and the things you've seen.
I also find myself missing you. A few days ago, Wyndam got it into his head to have me parade around in an outfit right out of Arabian Nights. I would have rather worn it for you.
Perhaps I'll bring it with me the next time I see you. Then you can bend me over your desk again. Though this time you can't tear my dress. I had a devil of a time explaining it away!
Cecily threw the letter down like it was on fire without finishing it!
Will picked up the letter just to see what had prompted her reaction. She tried to get it out of his hands growling, "That's private family business, not meant for your eyes!"
"Family business wouldn't make your ears turn bright red," Will used his longer arms to keep it out of her reach.
"Still I don't think you'll want to-" Cecily stopped speaking as Will opened the letter and began to read it. She could tell when he'd gotten to where she had as his eyebrows rose.
Eventually he did return the letter to her chuckling, "Your aunt pulled a fast one on her husband."
"He was never burdened by his vows, so I've been told, why should my aunt have been," she replied.
"That is painfully clear from the letters between your mother and aunt. Also apparent was your father's desire to murder him," Will looked back at the pile of letters with renewed interest.
"Shall we see what else we can learn about all of this," he continued.
Wanting to find out more about her aunt and her past relationship with the captain of the Carpathia, "Let's get to it."
Both poured over the letters. Cecily stuck to her aunts's, Will the captain's. Some of it was more… salacious than others, which made her drink more whiskey than she should.
About an hour later Will said, "Here's an unopened letter from Captain Rostron."
Cecily leaned forward and noticed some other handwriting on the outside of the envelope. "The other writing is my mother's. April 10th 1890. I remember that summer my father had a huge fight with my uncle. My cousins had written him, they were worried about their mother's health."
"Your uncle found out I bet. Your cousins preferred their mother's presence, I gathered as much from the letters," Will suggested.
Cecily was putting the glasses in the sink when she saw Will look at the unopened letter with an odd look on his face.
"What is it?"
"That cousin of yours, the one I met, he's your aunt's youngest right," he asked.
"Yes, Randall's the youngest. He's 8 years younger than Matt and Roland. Harry too for that matter. Those three were born back to back to back in the same year. Why," she turned around.
"The date received on the letter here is April 10th 1890. When's his birthday," he pressed further.
"Christmas Day that year…" Now Cecily realized where he was going.
Will just had a knowing smile on face as they went their separate ways. It was 4 in the morning, almost time for a new day to start. Cecily would be finding a way to discreetly return the letters to her aunt without her noticing.
July 10th
Charles, in both his duties as Will's friend and as an officer of the Oceanic, was checking on Ada.
Ada was traveling in a first class cabin slightly off the beaten path, which was turning out to be a good thing since passengers were talking about that absolutely disgusting article. He'd destroyed every copy of it he could find by throwing it overboard or Lowe electing to throw it into the furnaces. Cecily and Will had both sent frantic telegrams to Harold and Ada respectively.
Charles knocked on the door, "Ada it's me. May I come in?"
"The door's unlocked. Help yourself," she called back.
No sooner had he opened the door did a black blur of fur barrel into him, knock him to the floor, and promptly began licking his face.
"Get off me you crazy bloody dog," Charles tried pushing Rigel off of him, but the dog was 60 pounds.
"Stay on him Rigel, I'm sure lights has done something to deserve this," Ada chuckled.
Finally managing to get out from under the dog he groaned out, "I haven't done anything to anybody… lately."
"That means you're planning something," Ada was scratching the dog's ears.
"I was planning on introducing you to someone who could reassure you on a few matters. He's on the bridge," Charles straightened his uniform.
"And who might that be," Ada attached the leash to Rigel's collar.
"Harold Lowe. He has intimate insight into Cecily Lethbridge's mind," he explained.
"You've met her as well. What's she like," Ada inquired once they were on their way.
"She's… a firecracker and a pistol all rolled into one. I personally think Lowe's in over his head with her," Charles wove his way around the other passengers easily.
"Hopefully he has a great deal of luck on his side then," Ada replied.
Opening the gate to officer's country, Charles said, "You weren't the only one to get a frantic telegram after that vile article was printed."
"You do know I don't believe it? The fact that so many do believe it is funny," Ada chortled.
"Will and Cecily certainly didn't find it funny," he answered.
Upon arriving at the bridge, Harold was busy checking the course that had been plotted.
Charles called out, "Harold darling, you can take a break. I've got a surprise for you."
With his back still turned the Welshman answered, "Lights if you're calling me that, it can't be a pleasant surprise."
"I assure you, you'll be fine. Your opposite number for dealing with the filth Hearst wrote is who I brought," Charles coughed.
"Good Christ," he turned around to bow, "Mrs. Murdoch I can assure you that none of what has been implied has even been thought about," Harold said.
"Cecily would much rather do those implied things with you Harold! Or have you already done some of those things?" Charles waggled his eyebrows. Ada just rolled her eyes too used to his antics.
"Sir, really? In front of Mrs. Murdoch," the younger man spluttered and turned red.
"She's married. Ada is well aware of what goes on," Charles cackled.
"And you've made plenty of suggestions of what I should do to Will when I see him next," Ada grinned.
"Don't mention any of that to Cecily. While their relationship is nothing like what the papers have implied, it's still a weird one. They have some of the most entertaining arguments I've ever seen," Harold explained.
Charles watched Rigel come up to sniff and inspect Harold.
"That's a vicious attack dog there, if Ada says the right word in Gaelic," he warned the younger officer.
"Charles Lightoller! Rigel is a perfectly sweet dog! Mr. Lowe he will not bite you… much," Ada swatted him on the arm.
Rigel decided Harold was up to his standards, gave his hand a lick, and went back to Ada's side.
One of the wireless boys came up to the bridge, "This just came in for you Mr. Lowe."
Opening the envelope Harold laughed a bit, "It's from Roland. He's hoping that you aren't driving me mad, sir. He on the other hand is being driven mad by Mr. Murdoch," he stated flicking his eyes towards Ada.
Charles went over to see what the telegram really said, suspecting that Lowe was leaving things out. Upon reading it and not bothering to keep his laugh from erupting, "Mr. Lowe you are reading what Lieutenant Lethbridge said about Will aloud!"
"Sir please," Harold begged.
"That's an order," he continued.
The younger man groaned before reading, "Harry hope you are doing well on the Oceanic and that Lightoller isn't driving you too insane. I on the other hand have to deal with Murdoch. Do you know if his wife's coming yet? The man's being such a jackass he either needs to get laid or take matters into his own hands if you get my meaning?" Harold wasn't looking at Ada at all.
"It would seem that I'll need to take my husband well in hand myself. Wouldn't want him to annoy his hosts too much more," Ada giggled.
Charles choked out a laugh. Lowe did as well, but his grin didn't meet his eyes.
July 10th, but in England…
Against his better judgement, Matt had let his little brother Randall badger him into meeting him in Southampton. Truly it hadn't taken too much, as it was nice to get out of rainy London to walk along the docks.
Randall had always been the closest to Matthew despite the large age difference. It wasn't like Brandon and Alistair weren't there for him, he and Randall had the shared burden of being the sons that Wyndam hated. Matt for his clubfoot and Randall for looking and acting more like their mother. They'd both had to be more observant in ways their older brothers never needed to be.
They were meeting at the Hope and Anchor, his brother's favorite pub. Matt would be waiting outside as it was an RN bar.
Randall arrived about five minutes after he sat down on the bench outside.
"So what do you want to do with your limited free time little brother? You were the one to see Mum last, how was she," Matt grinned as he hugged a greeting.
"Mum is as well as can be expected for the situation. And is in no hurry whatsoever to get back on a ship," Randall said.
"That's to be expected. The last one sunk beneath her feet," Matt shuddered at the memory of his near miss before asking, "Now that you're here, what do you want to do? Have some drinks?"
"Not yet, there's someone I want to look for. You actually know him, or did anyway."
"Who are you talking about," Matt asked as they started walking.
"Captain Rostron. He saved both Cecily and Mum. The least we could do is buy him a drink or two," Randall explained.
"Looks like he's become our guardian angel. Again. We'll buy him another beer for Alistair, provided we can find him," he replied.
"How'd he save Alistair," Randall asked stunned.
"Wait, Mother never told you? It was well before you were born so… Anyway Alistair was swimming in Liverpool, got caught up in a rip current, and started to drown. Arthur fished him out. That's why he was around our family so much. Mum thought he was her own Knight of the Round Table," Matt smile at the memory.
"If Mother liked him so much, why don't I remember ever meeting him," his little brother asked curiously. They were nearing the Cunard docking area.
"Wyndam didn't like him very much, due to the fact that like Uncle Albert, Arthur called him on his shitty behavior towards Mum. Mother and he had a huge fight about it the year you were born while Alistair, Brandon, and I were at school," Matt growled.
"Wyndam won I take it," Randall's grey eyes turned cold.
"I don't know what he did to Mother, and I don't want to know. The three of us got goodbye letters from Arthur. And we've all managed to keep them." Matt stopped to sit on a bench. His foot was bothering him. He continued with, "I think Alistair still has some of the gifts he got all of us somewhere in storage." He got back up to walk again.
They were soon in the Cunard docks. Matt was starting to feel nervous. He asked, "How do you even know the Carpathia is back?"
"Because I asked around before I met up with you. We might have to wait awhile to talk to him," Randall said.
Upon seeing the crowd, Matt's eyes bulged. "I think we're going to have to wait for quite a bit."
"There's a bench nearby. You can rest your foot. It has to be hurting after the long walks, even with the breaks," Randall helped him to that bench.
Arthur hadn't gone looking to be a hero, but it seemed to have found him. Though it had come with a small perk. He'd gotten to see someone he'd thought he would never see again.
Mina was using her maiden name, which made it even better. She was as beautiful as he remembered, having only improved with age.
There had been crowds for the Carpathia everywhere they'd made port. Arthur had lost count of the number of times he'd been forced to recount the tale of steaming to the rescue, dodging bergs, pushing his ship to the limit, and pulling the half-frozen survivors on board. All he wanted to do was get back to work, but the crowds were everywhere waiting.
Once the crowd cleared, Arthur noticed two young men sitting on a bench. They were clearing waiting for someone, but all had left save for the crew.
They had the look of brothers despite differing hair colors. The one with the lighter hair was wearing what looked like an RN uniform of some kind. The darker haired one was in a light grey suit.
That one had a cane and was rolling it around in his hands. There was something familiar in how the cane was moving.
He must have had the cane for most of his life, because he was able to do tricks with it. Right now he was rolling it, then tapping it on the ground, then balancing it. This made Arthur start.
"Matthew is that you," he called out in shock.
"The illustrious hero returns again. This time you've saved my mother and my cousin," Matthew hauled himself up from the bench. His yet to be introduced brother got up with him.
Arthur grinned. Matthew had not lost his sense of humor since the last time he saw him.
Leaning on the railing of the ship, Arthur inquired, "And who is with you?"
"My younger brother Randall. He's studying at Dartmouth and is heading into his last year there. Permission to come aboard?"
"You two don't even need to ask permission, welcome aboard," he found himself smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks.
Once Mina's sons were on board, Arthur got a better look at them.
Matthew despite everything that had been thrown at him in childhood had grown tall and strong. The bright blue eyes he'd inherited from his mother were nothing like the sunken, shadowed eyes when he was younger.
Randall was Mina's son through and through, with nothing of his father in his face at all. Clearly unfussed by the family army tradition. A bright young man with a future ahead of him unburdened by the past. His grey eyes took in everything once he was on board.
"We'll be heading to the lounge. A bit more privacy than any pub. I've barely had a moment's peace since I got to New York," Arthur explained.
"We'll get you your drinks some other time then. I can't blame you for wanting some peace and quiet," Matthew grinned as they walked along.
Arthur took the quickest route possible to make it easier for Matthew. Randall was just being quiet, scootching his chair closer to his brother.
Trying to get the younger one out of his shell, Arthur inquired, "How are you doing at Dartmouth Randall?"
"I do alright," he replied.
"You're doing better than alright, little brother. All of your instructors love you, they say they've seen few more natural sailors," Matthew corrected, which caused his brother to blush.
"Sailing must be in your blood. I wonder where you got it from," he asked the younger man when the drinks were brought.
"My current theory is wherever my cousin Roland got it from," Randall answered.
"I can't think of anyone on either side," Matthew chimed in.
"Perhaps you're just blessed," Arthur suggested.
"You aren't the only popular one you know. Randall here has to beat girls off with a cricket bat to keep them from tearing his uniform off," Matthew was clearly enjoying being the teasing older brother far too much.
"Not the uniform, just the buttons," Randall's ear were pinking.
Deciding to join in on the teasing, "The question is Randall, are they the buttons on your jacket or somewhere else?" Arthur chuckled as Randall's face darkened to maroon and Matthew snorted into his drink.
"I'm just joking with you lad. I'm sure you aren't indulging them," Arthur grinned.
"No sir," Randall took a long gulp of whiskey. Matthew as watching them both quietly now. "I get chaffed for it.
A/N 2: I had quite a bit of fun with this last pov. I am really looking forward to seeing what you all think of it! SSD
I've cast Maria Bello for my Ada.