Chapter 15
Jock
Somewhere in the Atlantic
April 13, 1912

Jock groaned when the curtains to his cabin window were pulled back, sending strong light bearing down on his face.

"Damn you, Callen," he grunted, rolling over and putting his pillow over his face. "Leave me alone."

He heard his nephew laugh. "That's what you get for taking up that Mr. Hockley on first class brandy."

It was true. After Jock had finished setting up in the first class restaurant with Wallace and Clarke, Mr. Hockley had mysteriously found him and revisited his offer for Jock to join him in the first class smoking room. Callen wasn't allowed due to his young age and was sent back to their room with strict instructions not to tell his stepmother what Jock was up to.

Jock was no stranger to strong drink, being a Scotsman and his adventures in Jamaica a year prior. Mr. Hockley, or Cal as he insisted Jock call him, poured him drink after drink until his words began to slur together. He didn't remember much else about last night, other than Cal had put them in a corner of the smoking room by themselves which struck Jock as odd as they missed out on several games of cards and billiards.

"Stepma wants us to go to breakfast together," Callen said, interrupting his thoughts.

Jock couldn't help but let out another groan, peeking one eye out from his pillow. "I'm not coming, not in this state. Besides, I don't have to play until luncheon."

"Suit yourself," Callen shrugged, putting on his coat.

"Don't tell my sister why I'm not coming," Jock said, his tone serious. "Just tell her I'm feeling seasick."

"I doubt very much she'll believe that," Callen said as he put on his hat, hiding a smirk. "But I'll do my best."

He slipped out the door before Jock had a chance to respond. Jock snapped the curtains shut and flopped back onto his bed, trying to focus on anything other than the pounding of his head.

"You seem rather young," Cal had said as they sipped on their brandy. "Should I even be giving you this?" He raised his brandy glass over a crooked eyebrow.

"I'm twenty-one, thank you very much," Jock said, slumping lower in the plush armchair.

"And your sister seems so young as well, and a widow at that," Cal said, swirling the brandy around in his glass. "Are you both the same age?"

Jock was able to gain slightly more composure at this turn of conversation. He had seen the way Cal had been flirting with Nellie at the dinner table that evening. "She's twenty-four, the eldest of all my siblings."

"Hmm." Cal grew silent at this, a far off look in his eye.

Jock was only able to keep his composure for so long before the brandy took over and his mouth began to run. "I'm not really certain she loved her late husband," he said, unable to stop himself. "But my father's a right bastard if you ever saw one and my stepmother is even worse. I think Nellie married my late brother-in-law to get out of the house."

"Ah," Cal said, suddenly interested again. "But I can tell you both come from a well off family. Maybe not like the people around us, but I'm sure compared to…" His voice trailed off, shrugging. "It must have been an adjustment for her moving out of your father's home."

"Not really," Jock said, leaning forward. "My brother-in-law was better off than my father. He owned the local hotel which was the most popular place in all of Dumfries. He had an entire home connected to the side of it!"

Again, Cal grew silent, looking as if he was deep in thought.

"And the age difference didn't deter her?"

Jock's headache vanished as he sat straight up. How had Cal known Callen Sr. had been older?

The pounding in his head came back and he squeezed his eyes shut, putting his head in his hands. He still had a few hours until he was due to perform in first class. The last thing he needed was a lecture from Nellie and Wallace giving him a poor performance review when they arrived in New York.

Jock summoned a steward, asking if he could bring him a strong cup of coffee and some pain medicine. The steward had complied with a knowing look before running off, as if Jock wasn't the only passenger with a thick head this morning.

There was a gentle knock on the door a few minutes later, taking all of Jock's willpower to pull himself up from his bed once again.

Violet was leaning against the doorframe, a smile on her face at seeing his surprised expression.

"Isn't working in second class below your dignity?" Jock teased, almost ripping the mug of steaming coffee from her hands. She held out a small packet of aspirin which he quickly dumped into the coffee and swallowed the whole thing in nearly one gulp. He smacked his lips together before giving the mug back.

"I'll make an exception when you're involved," she said, gently tapping his chest. Jock looked down the hallway to make sure it was abandoned before pulling her into his room. From the silence next door, he knew Nellie, Callen, Leana, and Isla were all away at breakfast.

"Not this again," Violet said, unable to hide a smile.

Jock didn't say anything, studying her carefully. Her dark hair was neatly pinned up, emphasizing her beautiful eyes. Although still in her day uniform, the dress clung to her waist and billowed around her hips. His self control, which had been weak to begin with, snapped. He wrapped one arm around her waist, another at the base of her neck and pulled her towards him, pressing his lips against hers. She sighed happily, pressing herself even closer to him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. They remained that way for a long time, their lips entwining until they had to part for air.

"I thought you weren't feeling well," Violet said, pushing some of his curls from his eyes.

"Your presence healed me," he said, pulling her close once more. "It's a miracle."

They began kissing once more, this time Jock pulling up her skirts.

"Jock," Violet moaned, removing his hands from her dress. "This is not the time. I shouldn't even be here, you know. I'm supposed to be on duty upstairs."

"If they're not missing you now, they won't miss you for a few more minutes," Jock said, playing with a button at her collar.

Violet kissed him again, running her fingers through his hair, before pulling away and fixing her cap. "You're very persuasive, but I'd like to not get fired before we reach New York, thank you very much."

She turned to open the door, but her hand paused on the handle and she looked over her shoulder at him. "Perhaps when you can catch me when we're both off duty."

After she left, Jock couldn't wipe the smile from his face as he got dressed for the day. It was true, after seeing Violet his headache had all but disappeared. Perhaps he would try and join Nellie and Callen for breakfast after all. He tried to think through his evening schedule. He would be performing well into the evening all through third, second, and first class. Maybe when he was done and Violet was off duty…

The thought of Mary flooded him with guilt. His hands shook as he buttoned his shirt. My God, he thought. He was going to be a father. It was so easy to forget when he was all the way out here in the middle of the ocean. And he wanted to damn Violet for being so irresistible. He was a weak man and he knew it, but would Mary really blame him for that? Besides, despite the fun he might have on the Titanic, there was no doubt that Mary and his son would be the ones he was returning to at the end of this long journey.