She was a person unable to read. Perhaps for other she was the definition of pure perfection, the core of human decency, but for young Rose she was an impossible task. Jumping from one mood to the other, Amelia Huntington did nothing but get on her nerves. It was the excitement of her leaving the city that got Rose through the days. In the evenings she'd stumble towards Jack's apartment where she'd have just enough energy to eat a tiny bit of food before falling into deep slumber.
"I've heard what she is up to," Old Mrs. Dawson told her grandson. They were having lunch together before Jack had to return to the office. He chuckled and took a sip of his water. "I do feel sorry for that young girl." Mrs. Dawson continued.
"I know you are not fond of the Huntingtons, gran."
"I am not fond of anyone except you and Rosie."
"Well Rose is a strong girl, she can manage."
Mrs. Dawson raised an eyebrow and stared at the young man in front of her for as long as possible. A smirk appeared on her face before looking around the restaurant. It was busy for the time of day, but everyone was so preoccupied with their own conversation that no one would probably look up if someone were to stand on top of a table.
"I see how it is then, my boy."
Jack looked up, "What do you mean, gran?"
"How long are you going to keep denying your affection for miss Smith?"
As long as it was necessary, he thought to himself. Yet, his grandmother was the one person to be able to know his inner thoughts without him having to say a word. Her eyes were still on him and he tapped his fingers on the table out of nervousness. Signing the waiter to pour them another drink, he cleared his throat.
"Perhaps you are right, gran."
"I am always right, dear," Her laughter soon turned into a serious tone, "but what are you going to do about it?"
"If you must know, gran. We are planning on leaving, Rose and I. But we have decided to wait until she has finished her work for Amelia so no one will suspect anything."
"My god, Jack." She hissed and put her cutlery down. The news took quite a toll on her appetite, "Have you thought about this?"
"Of course I have thought about this. I will sell my apartment as well as my share of the company and Rose will resign from her work. We'll have enough money to live a comfortable life."
"And her little brother? Will he stay in school?"
He nodded his head. Within seconds of telling he regretted it. It wasn't the fact that he didn't trust her, but it was the disapproval in her eyes. The continuity of it. Every single thought or plan he had in mind would always be dismissed if it didn't fit into their lane. But he had done it once, leave and travel the world, therefore he knew he could do it again. And now together with her. He wanted to show her every crack of the earth. Every hidden spot filled with both mystery and adventure.
"And we'll also go to Los Angeles," He had told her the other night, "We'll ride in the rollercoaster until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach, right in the surf. But you have to do it like a real cowboy, Rose. None of that side saddle stuff."
"Jack I have never even ridden on a horse in my life!" She laughed at his plans. It all sounded so scandalous and exciting at the same time. The sparkle in his eyes when he spoke of foreign places sparked the warmth in her heart. It was all about to become reality.
Still noticing the disapproval of his grandmother, he leaned back and crossed his arms. "I can see that you don't agree with my plan."
"It is not that I don't agree with it, Jack. It is the fact that I am worried of what will come when you elope, perhaps I am more worried of what you put poor miss Smith into."
"But that is the whole idea, gran. I want to be with Rose no matter what. Don't you think it is safer for her to get out of the city before anyone finds out. I know in what kind of environment we live in and I will not let her be ridiculed by anyone for that matter." He stood up from his chair and adjusted his tie.
"I am not the villain here, Jack. Please, sit back down." She knew he was about to leave. Jack hesitated for a moment and looked around the room. Stopping his gaze at a little girl together with her mother, she was leaning back in her chair. He could see the bored expression on the girl's face and the roll of her eyes when her mother ordered her to sit up straight. He quickly looked away from the scene and his eyes met his grandmother's again. There was a plead in them and he sighed.
"Let me go to the bathroom first." Once he returned, the table had already been cleared. Before him was a cup of coffee, his favourite after a hearty meal.
"I reckon you don't want any desert?"
"No, thank you, gran." As he sat back down. Mrs. Dawson laid her arm on top of the table and reached for his hadn't.
"I am on your side, my boy. I am only trying to get it clear inside this old head of mine. You are a strong willed man, Jack. If you truly want to be with her, I cannot stop you. Only, you have to end it well with miss Huntington."
"But you see. Marrying Amelia has only ever just been an option. It was never been properly arranged. Everyone knows it will be financially beneficial therefore everyone is expecting it. But Amelia and I are nothing, nor have we ever been, nor will we ever be."
They remained quiet for a while and listened to the clatter of the plates coming from the kitchen. Mrs. Dawson nodded her head. She wished she didn't envy him, but in someway she did. He listened to his heart, followed where is spirit wanted him to go to. You don't choose who you fall in love with and she knew it all too well. No one knew how desperate she was after she found out Alexander Kelly had died. Even then she longed for him still. How she wished she had been brave enough to listen to her own heart.
"Before you two go, Jack. Can I see her one more time. I am actually quite fond of her as well."
He was somehow a sort of relieved to have told someone. His secret was safe with her, he knew that for sure. As the burden had fallen from his shoulders and the heaviness had lifted off his chest he could actually see a form of lightness appearing on his face when he looked at his own reflection in the mirror. He headed into his office, baffled by an unexpected surprise. His mother sat behind his desk, tapping her walking stick onto the floor as she watched her son marching up to her.
"What on earth is this, Jack?" She asked whilst rolling her eyes.
He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"This thing I am sitting on." She stood up, walked over to him and planted a gentle kiss on his left cheek.
"It is a desk chair, mother. On wheels. Anyway, what are you doing here?"
Mrs. Dawson pulled away from him. Looking her son up and down there was a thing about his essence she couldn't get grasp. He looked different but the same. She couldn't recall if it were his clothes or his hair or the slight difference in his expression. She swiftly switched back to reality and got the order of the day, the reason why she was in his office. She had barely been back ever since her husband died. The place held too many memories and to see her sons walking the halls he once walked through, seemed too much. A lot had changed since she was young. It looked grander, more luxurious. It was what Ernest wanted to memorialize their father. It was even a good cover up for the thread they were hanging on. The edge of complete ruin. Mrs. Dawson had cursed her husband for it and from that moment on, most of her nights were tormented by the thought of selling everything they owned. To watch their family history be scattered and forgotten. To Mrs. Dawson it was all a nightmare.
"Camilla called this afternoon," She said to him, "Henry has come home early and she wants us to join them for dinner."
Jack shook his head. "Thank you for the offer mother, but I simply cannot come tonight. Maybe another time."
"But Jack, it wasn't an offer. We are going to have dinner there tonight. If you have plans you must simply cancel them."
"I can't simply cancel my plans last minute, mother."
"I don't understand you, Jack. I haven't seen you in weeks, God knows what you have been up to and you are not willing to make some time free for me?"
Jack lit up a cigarette and blew out the smoke a little too close to her face. She looked angry. Mrs. Dawson was in fact one of the most intimidating persons when she was mad. Almost no one dared to speak up to her. They were simply afraid.
"Why is it that everyone always wants to have a say in everything that I do? For god's sake, mother. I am a grown man."
"Yes. And as a grown man you have duties you must fulfill. That is a part of being an adult. I'll pick you up at six." With that being her last words, she left her son alone in his own misery. He felt like a magnet today, attracting one lecture after the other.
Later that day he looked at his reflection once more. The lightness which had only been there for a moment was no longer visible. His eyebrows formed thus much of a frown it starting to hurt his head. The clock striked 6 O'clock. When he stepped outside, his mother's car was already waiting in front of the building. As he stepped in, Mrs. Dawson could allow herself to smile just a tiny bit and even complimented him on his looks. Thanking her, they drove off to his so called prison.
There was an unsettled atmosphere in the house when they arrived. The servants were rushing around the hallway and Camilla still wasn't properly dressed when she came to greet them. "Oh I am so sorry, dears." She hurried towards her guests whilst putting in her last earing, "I thought I had it all planned. Amelia is still in the library with miss Smith. She wanted to have a last fitting before dinner."
Rose was still here. She had never worked until this late before and, of course, tonight they'd bump into each other. He cleared his throat and put his hand on Mrs. Huntington's shoulder. "I'll make sure she hurries up."
He could already hear their voices from outside and when he stepped in he saw Rose on her knees hand stitching something onto the hem of the dress. Her soft voice ordered the impatient aristocrat to stand still. Amelia peaked over her shoulder and smiled brightly at the sight of his presence. She stepped away from Rose who dropped her needle and sighed in frustration.
"It is so good you are here!" She spoke to Jack, ignoring the struggles of the seamstress behind her. Jack looked over Amelia's shoulder. Rose was still kneeled down with her back towards them. It wasn't until she heard the sound of her voice she stopped her tracks. Lifting herself up she didn't allow herself search for his eyes.
"Aren't you going to say hello to miss Smith, Jack? Surely you do remember her."
"I do. I've only come to send you upstairs. Your mother is getting rather impatient."
"Of course. Poor mommy." As she left the room, they both waited to speak before they were sure of her departure.
"Jack, what on earth this? " Rose then hissed at him, "Why are you here?" She turned back towards the door, afraid someone might walk in.
"They wanted us to dine with them tonight. Trust me, Rose, I tried really hard, but I simply couldn't get out of it." He moved closer and started kissing her passionately. How much she wanted to give in to this moment, she didn't allow herself. Rose pushed him away. Her finger traced over her lips.
"Only two more weeks, Jack." Almost laughing at the tone of her own voice, she despised the fact that she almost sounded like a school teacher. The firmness and the standoffishness of it. Her hands were still leaning on his lower arms.
"Two more dreadful weeks." He groaned. As there was nothing but silence coming from outside of the room they both dared to move closer to each other once again. Rose had the chuckle for a moment and moved her hands through his hair. It swooped perfectly to one side. Messy, the way she liked it best.
"I can't wait for you to take this all off." She softly whispered.
"I can't wait for you to take this all off." Now it was his turn to make things undone. His fingers glided towards the top buttons of her blouse. Only two, enough to expose her collarbone. Feeling his breath tingling on her skin, she allowed herself to plant a gently kiss on his lips. The connection between them was too strong to resist. The urge lingering in the core of her body.
Suddenly, a sound came from outside and Rose quickly started to pack up her applies. Amelia turned her head around the corner, scanned the room and then smiled. She was already dressed. The color of her dress made her complexion even more perfect than it already was and her scent smelled nothing but lovely. A mix of both the gentleness of nature and as if you were standing in a luxurious ballroom. Sweet yet powerful.
"Oh you two are still here. But, we were wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner, miss Smith?" Amelia asked. Both Jack and Rose's bodies froze in place. It was a trap, he was certain of it. She wanted to see them together to be able to confirm her so called speculations.
"Oh no, thank you, miss. I couldn't possibly." Rose quickly said. She shut the top of her sewing box and turner around. Her coat was already in her hands.
"Don't be so modest, miss Smith. See it as an appreciation for your hard work. I've kept you inside this room awfully long today."
She still wasn't moving. Nor was Jack. He then cleared his throat in the silence of the room. "You can't force miss Smith, Amelia."
"It is my house, Jack. I can do anything," She moved her gaze towards Rose again, "but I'll leave it up to you."
Rose then looked up. Finally facing her, she straightened her back. "If you really insist, miss Huntington. Count me in."
Jack wanted to speak up, warn her about this brutal action. But Rose was a professional. It seemed it was him who was more uneasy than her. Although she must have been nervous, she didn't falter single time. As she was being placed next to him, they could hear the heaviness of each other's breathing. Amelia, the observer, took a seat across from them. Rose swallowed the lump in her throat and scanned all the types of cutlery in front of her. She never thought there could be so many different sorts of spoons.
"Just start from the outside and work your way in, miss Smith." Jack told her.
She nodded her head. "Thank you, sir." She spoke just loud enough for everyone to hear. A lock of hair suddenly slipped out of her bun. He could feel his hand automatically move up. It had just become so natural to touch her in even the slightest form when they were together. To look at her for as long as he wanted. To forget the formality of surnames. Rose. How he loved to let her name fall from his lips. Jack quickly took hold of his glass of wine and chucked the remaining bit of liquor all in one go. Mr. Huntington laughed.
"Had a rough day, Dawson?"
"Just the usual, sir. Business and such. Luckily, we have solved our Pittsburgh financial fiasco."
"Good for you, son."
"Jack," His mother warned him, "Please, don't discuss business in front of us ladies. You're simply boring us to death." They all chuckled and he scratched the back of his neck.
"Get your stuff, Rose. We are getting out of here." Was all he wanted to say, but his mother interrupted his thoughts by continuing her speech.
"Actually I wanted to discuss something else, but seeing miss Smith has decided to join us I believe that topic out of the picture as well. Don't you usually eat with the servants, miss Smith?"
"Amelia invited her, mother. Please, don't be rude."
"I am very grateful for your invitation, miss Huntington," Rose quickly managed to step in, "I believe I've never had such delicious food in my entire life."
"You're welcome. Miss Smith has been working very hard for mommy and I for the past few weeks so I thought it would be a nice way to thank her. Maybe get to know her a little better."
All eyes were now on her and in that exact moment she wanted to consume the whole bottle of wine in one go. There they were, the endless parade of questions. The one more personal than the other. Almost everything was a lie apart from her age, where she lived and what happened to her mother. And during all this time, Rose managed to keep a smile on her face.
"Perhaps you should start looking for a husband, miss Smith." Mr. Huntington said out of the blue, "To give you some financial stability."
"Perhaps one day, sir. When the time is right. But for now, I am perfectly cable of taking care of myself."
Then there it was, the slight feeling of a touch on her finger. The feeling was correct and before she knew it she took his whole hand in hers, traced his palm with her thumb only one time and released.
The whole evening seemed to take an eternity. It wasn't until Mrs. Huntington asked the other women to join her in the drawing room. Rose stood up from her chair, put her hair back up and wished everyone a good night.
"I should be getting back now. Thank you again for the dinner."
"Yes, I believe it is for the best." Mrs. Dawson told her, "And maybe next time keep your presence downstairs. You are in fact a servant."
"Thank you, Mrs. Dawson. To remind me where I rank in the scheme of things."
She turned away from her and wished everyone a good night. Jack's voice kept echoing in her head before she stepped into the fresh air of the night.
"Goodnight Rose Smith."
He held her in his vision for as long was possible. A sense of pride rushed through his body. She had kept herself so well reserved despite the opinions and remarks of some of Boston's most high class snobs. Mr. Huntington had ordered his box of cigars and two glasses of brandy to be brought to the dining table.
"You know why I am keeping you here, don't you Dawson?"
Jack nodded his head. "It is about your daughter I presume."
"Of course it is about my daughter, but also about you. About you both. I don't like to brag, but Amelia is a well profound debutante. If you don't make your move soon, someone else will."
Then let them have her, he thought.
"I am just not quite sure if I am ready to give her what she wants."
Lies.
"What do you mean not ready? You are one of the best business men from the east coast, perhaps of this whole country. When I was you age I didn't know half of the things you do and even I was ready to give Camilla a joyful life."
"I-" Jack could only stammer.
"Is there someone else?"
"No, sir. There isn't"
More lies.
"Listen, Jack." Mr. Huntington leaned closer towards him, "I know you are an independent man and I know you like your freedom, but even when you get married to our daughter you will still have it," He poured them both a glass of liquor, "Think about the good things that will come from it. You won't have to fix the mess your father has left you in anymore. The company will be secure of its survival. And for Amelia… She is our only daughter and we want her to be in good hands."
Hot and cold. The rain splashed against his bare skin as he ran his way home. His head was hurting not only from all the alcohol he had consumed but from everything everyone was telling him. It was expected of him to be down on his knees preferably by the next morning, but he needed to leave and preferably by the next morning.