Will found that the Unicorn was far less warm than his home, especially after he had watched Ana walk away. She had looked back over her shoulder once or twice, and he fancied that he could see tears on her cheeks. It had been so wonderful to see her on his ship, hearing her pester the men about things they had never thought a woman would be interested in. Will had thought it rather funny to see them react to her trousers, which she had worn for purely practical reasons.

Of course, now she was gone and he fell back into the shipboard routine.

Inspections, drill, cleaning, it seemed so boring now. Dinner with his officers was the highlight of his day, for at least then there was some kind of entertaining discussion. Will was preparing for one at the moment, in fact, intent on changing his shirt for a fresh one. Sharpe was dusting down his desk, nodding to him as he stepped through into his cabin.

Will paused for a moment, then turned back around. "Mr. Sharpe, why is there a cat on my bed?"

Sharpe straightened up quickly, "A cat?"

"Yes, right on my pillow." Will turned back, viewing the scene before him. His bed was perfectly made, a fresh shirt had been laid out, and a small black cat curled in a perfect ball on his pillow, its tail covering its face. Will gestured to him, "See?"

Sharpe pursed his lips, looking down. "I'm sorry, sir. I've heard talk that a cat was seen around the galleys, but I didn't think much of it." Will watched as the man's hands shook slightly. "I can dispose of it, sir, if you like."

Will took a step back, bewildered. "Dispose of it? It's a cat, Sharpe, not a piece of trash." Will stepped closer to the bed, watching the thing flick its tail slightly and examine him with a green eye opened to the barest slit. Apparently, he met with some approval, for the tail went back down. Will snorted, "It's quite alright if it wants to enjoy my bed, just hang my shirts up so they don't get hair on them."

"Of course, sir." Sharpe sounded relieved, and Will watched as his steward brought a finger over to gently scratch at the thing's chin. "Cute little bugger, isn't he?"

"He?" Will glanced over his shoulder as he drew on his new shirt. "You sound awfully sure."

"Everyone else onboard is a man, I doubt a female cat would be much interested in us." Sharpe chuckled, and the cat began to purr as he continued scratching. "We'll be needing a name for him, though."

Will sighed, rubbing his face. "Well, he's not the first ship's cat I've dealt with. My father had one on his ship, and my brother and I quite enjoyed playing with him."

"What was that cat's name?"

"God, I can't remember." Will chuckled, "So we'll call him Sam, for my brother."

"It's a good name." Sharpe smiled, and Sam seemed to purr all the louder. "I'll make sure the cook sets aside some scraps for him as needed, but I'm quite sure he has enough rats to enjoy."

Will nodded, leaving his steward to finish things as he made his way to dinner. A few of the officers had already arrived, standing and saluting as he came in. Will gave them a nod, letting them resume their seats. He took his own seat, sitting back to listen as more of the men came in and the discussion grew as dinner was served.

His wife was actually the subject of the current discussion, and he couldn't help but grin as he listened. Ives was retelling Ana climbing up a turret at the moment, "Bold as brass she was, and I've never seen a Marine turn that red. Thought the poor boy was about to faint."

"She's certainly a character." Tyne chuckled, looking to Will. "And beautiful, of course, sir. Absolutely stunning."

"Ana does have her quirks." Will shrugged, "Although I must confess that I may have started her on wearing trousers, it was far safer for her to wear them when we went hiking one time. She fell in love with the pockets."

That drew a laugh, and Nettles smirked. "I have to admit, my wife also likes to wear them when needed. Far better than those divided skirts she tried for a while; she almost crashed her bicycle wearing those once."

"Well warn the Marines if she's coming on, they're going to have to prepare themselves." Ives snorted, "Although I'm given to understand that Mrs. Murdoch won't be joining us anytime soon."

That caused a rustle, and Will sat a bit straighter. "What have you heard?"

Ives reached down for a bag by his chair, pulling out a newspaper. "Managed to get a copy of the Times in town, they had an article about the inquiry in London." He proffered it across the table to Will, "They mentioned your wife would be there."

Will took it with a nod. "She will be, her summons got delivered just before we left. I'm hoping that Mersey will take pity on her and let her return home early."

"I'm sure he will, sir." Nettles looked to the rest of the table. "Although, if I may, Mrs. Murdoch seems to be a strong woman. I'm sure she will come through this well."

Will nodded, tucking the paper underneath his chair while the discussion turned back to other issues besides the inquiry. They would be heading out on yet another cruise around the south of England, accompanied by their destroyers and a pair of cruisers. The officers expected the ship's performance to have grown exponentially, and the engineering staff was extremely invested in the efficacy of the fuel oil system.

When he returned to his cabin after dinner, the cat was still on his bed. Sam was awake though, watching Will as he sat on the bed and unfolded the paper. Will scanned the front page, quickly finding the piece about the inquiry.

The inquiry into the sinking of the Lusitania is set to begin soon, with a number of personages arriving in the city for it. Captain Turner, some of his crew and officers, and a small number of passengers are all to give their statements and answer questions. One notable personage is the American shipping magnate, Anastasia Murdoch, who will no doubt be asked to compare her experience on the Titanic to the most recent trial she endured.

Will rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course, they were going to bring that up, that damn ship. And he wouldn't be there for her. He caught himself before he crumpled the paper in his hands, instead setting it aside. Newspapers were much sought after on a ship, and the crew would be glad to have something to pass on. Instead, trailed by Sam, he went to his desk and drew out a sheet of paper. It was his personal paper, emblazoned with a picture of the Unicorn and his name and rank.

My dearest Ana,

I know you are to testify soon, and I wish I could be there for you to give you a bit of courage. An inquiry can be a daunting task, for one does not know what they will be asked, but only that every question will bring up something distasteful. Your support during the previous inquiry was much needed, and I want nothing more than to be there for you. But I know you, my love, and I know that you will come through this stronger. You will get through this, and when I have leave again you can share as much or as little with me as you like. Please, do not close yourself off after though, and don't go for the whiskey. Have Sylvie and the boys over, let them fill the house with laughter and light. Write to me if you need a distraction during the inquiry and I shall do my best to have my letter sent to you as fast as possible. There will be plenty to write about, the men much admire you after your visit and today I have discovered that we apparently have a cat onboard. I've named him for my brother, and Sam certainly seems to enjoy my bed. Please, think of that at night, and not what the inquiry may bring.

Know that I am always here for you, my love.

Your Jolly Sailor Bold,

William Murdoch, Captain

He had just dotted the last "I" when he was joined on his desk by Sam, who was interested in the paper. Will had a brief vision of smeared ink and a ruined letter, and quickly picked it up and waved it through the air to dry the ink. Sam was still on the desk as Will folded it into an envelope and addressed it. He wasn't sure where Ana was staying, obviously somewhere in London, but Sylvie would know and forward it to her. He had delivered enough letters from Lights to her to deserve a favor or two.

He left it for Sharpe to send off to the post in the morning, with enough coins to buy the fastest fare possible.

Lying in bed though, he still turned it over and over in his mind. Ana had such a tendency to spiral when alone in these situations, and he desperately wanted to avoid a reoccurrence of her after the storm on the Great Lakes. She had been so despondent, and he was almost grateful that he hadn't been around to see her after he had left New York. The way she described it, she had been far worse. He was still blaming himself for not getting more leave when Sam alighted on his bed.

He couldn't help but reach out and pet the cat, who quickly cuddled up to his side and flopped down so that Will could reach as much of him as he could. Hearing Sam's purring and having this little warm bundle alongside him, made Will take a breath. Ana had come through the Lakes storm, she had come through him leaving. And here she had friends who wouldn't let her linger in her sadness, Sylvie did not book with that and would keep her moving.

Will fell asleep still concerned, but not anxious.

The first day of the inquiry dawned bright and sunny, and I fidgeted in the lace covered dress I was wearing. It was a dress from Paris for last season, and I knew paired with the shimmering straw hat and veil I wore, I cut a stylish figure. Rigel stood out starkly against it, although he was merely sitting and panting at the moment.

We were waiting for Lieutenant Campbell, our dedicated escort for the inquiry. He was already late, and when he finally traipsed through the door, he cast a disparaging look at Rigel. "You can't bring him."

"I can, and I will." I drew myself up. "He is perfectly well behaved, you won't hear a peep from him. Now, we are already late." I walked right past him, "If you're planning on coming, you may want to follow."

Unfortunately, he caught up quickly. "Mrs. Murdoch, you must understand how it will appear if you bring him into court. You'll look barbaric."

"I hardly care about that." I tossed my head, walking faster. "If anyone protests, I will state that I cannot testify without him by my side. If anything, he was also a part of the sinking."

"It's unseemly."

"If you force him away from me, I will not testify." I whirled on him, stopping on the park pathway. "Now, what do you want me to say?"

He grabbed my arm, hustling me along as he whispered. "Not so loud. I doubt you'll be called today, it will just be procedure and an initial interview with the captain."

"If you tell me now, then you don't have to escort me every day."

"You're being escorted regardless." He snorted, rolling his eyes. "It was quite clear from our initial meeting that you are a recalcitrant piece of baggage that refuses to act as a decent woman, which necessitated finding leverage."

I groaned, "Usually if a man wants me to do something for him, he tries to flatter me."

"I thought it was bad form to flirt with married women." He released my arm, jerking his chin at the large stone building we'd come up to. A large group of reporters were lingering outside, pencils flying as we walked up the steps. Inside was calmer, but crowded. The lawyers, or rather barristers, were easy to determine due to their wigs, and the ship's officers were clustered together. I saw Captain Turner sitting in a corner, his hat in his hands and his eyes closed.

Other men were standing and speaking quietly, and even some women were present. I glanced to Campbell, "Are they all witnesses?"

"Yes," He nodded, his voice civil now that we weren't alone. "They'll be here every day, as will you."

"I understand that." I grumbled, holding Rigel a bit closer. "I don't suppose I'll be allowed to converse with any of them?"

"I would prefer that you not." He glanced around, "We don't need stories getting confused."

I clucked to Rigel, who trotted after me as I walked away from Campbell. He may prefer that I not speak to anyone, but he couldn't forbid me. I stopped in front of Turner, who looked up. I gave him a small smile, "Captain Turner, I hope you're doing well."

"As well as I can be, what with all this." He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm afraid I don't know you, miss."

"Anastasia Murdoch," I nodded, "And my dog, Rigel."

He held out his hand, letting Rigel sniff them. "He's a good boy."

"He is," I knelt down, ruffling Rigel's ears. "And you're a good man, Captain."

Turner let out a mirthless chuckle, "They're not going to make it seem like that in there, or in the papers."

"My husband survived." I leaned closer, speaking quietly. "And he is the best man I know, what happened then wasn't his fault, any more than this is yours."

His brow furrowed for a moment, "Your husband, William?"

"Yes," I leaned into Rigel. "I was coming to visit him."

"I can't say that I've met him, but I've heard of him." Turner rubbed his nose. "A good sailor, I was glad to hear he'd been hired on my someone after all that."

"Well, I hired him." I shrugged, "And married him soon after. Just remember that there is an after to all of this."

He let out a deep breath, nodding. "Getting there is hard."

"It is." I admitted, looking back over my shoulder. Campbell was glowering at me, and the other witnesses were slowly streaming into the court room. "I think it's time."

I let Turner walk in front of me, and made sure to keep a distance between myself and Campbell. I could tell he wanted nothing more than to grab me and shake me like a rat, and I shifted Rigel to walk between us.

I also made sure Rigel was between us when we sat down.

Unfortunately, Campbell had been right. The day was boring, the attorney general giving an incredibly long statement outlining what had happened, the details of the ship and how many were lost. Some of the witnesses turned out to be from the Board of Trade and other groups like it, they spoke briefly on the inspections and certification of the ship.

But everyone was waiting for Turner.

When they called him up, he sat straight and was clearly trying to give a good accounting of himself. He spoke about the drills the crew had performed and the weather that day. I could remember it well, the fog that had slowed us to a crawl, thick as soup and far more dangerous. The details of the torpedo attack were brought up next, and I forced away the thought of the cloud of debris and the shudder of the ship as she began her death throes.

I could feel Campbell watching me as they touched briefly on the speed of the ship, which had been reduced by the company. I remembered telling Alfred that they weren't running all of their boilers, his amusement at my concern. Turner was questioned by a variety of lawyers, trading off interrogating him. Some focused on the lifeboats and the evacuation, especially the involvement of passengers, one wanted to ascertain again that Captain Turner possessed the correct certificate. But the last one, he asked one question that made me gasp. "I have also been asked to ask you this: Do you know, of your own knowledge, what part, if any, Mr. Vanderbilt was taking in the helping?"

Turner shook his head, "I never saw the gentleman."

I didn't hear the next bit, but then suddenly Lord Mersey, the lawyers and Turner were walking into a side room and everyone else was beginning to file out of the hall. I sat there for a moment, feeling as if I had been struck across the face. All I could see was Alfred, his chest crushed and his eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky.

A handkerchief flashed in front of my own eyes, Campbell's voice breaking through. "Mrs. Murdoch, you're crying."

My fingers brushed the linen, and then my cheeks. I could feel tears on my fingertips. I took it, dabbing at my face. "My apologies, I don't know what came over me."

"Perhaps we can figure it out while we walk back to your hotel." He stood, and I followed him out of the hall. Rigel was glad to get moving, and to relieve himself against a tree in the park. Campbell watched that with distaste, instead turning to me. "The last question seemed to have affected you."

I folded the handkerchief back up, passing it to him. "It did, I knew Alfred."

"Well?"

"Somewhat, I was closer with his cousin. But everyone in New York knew Alfred, even if only from the gossip page." I chuckled at that, "He threw wonderful parties, although he never could get my father to go hunting with him."

Campbell started walking again, Rigel and I keeping pace. "His hunts over here made the paper too, along with his horseracing."

"Alfred did love his thrills." I muttered, looking out at the park around us. It was as manicured as Central Park, but better attended by pigeons. "And his sons."

Campbell chuckled, "And his lady friends, if the papers are to be believed."

"British papers report on that?"

"I have made some inquiries, what with the sinking." He shrugged, "My job requires me to have any bit of knowledge available at a moment's notice, and I never know which will be needed."

I watched as Rigel peered at a fountain we came up to, putting his paws on the basin to have a drink. "And have you made inquiries about me?"

He rocked his head to the side, smirking. "You know the answer to that, Mrs. Murdoch."