I had to admit that being away from Will again had put me in a mood. It wasn't as black as before, but I still spent a day hardly able to get out of bed. It was harder to be like that here in Southampton though, for without a staff to wait on me I had to deal with the various little bits of it myself. I had to get up to pull the curtains when the sun was too bright, I had to stumble downstairs to let Rigel out, and when Kate found me upstairs, she refused to consider bringing a bowl of the stew her mother had made with some of our food up, meaning that I had to go sit at the dining table for dinner.

Kate was surprisingly stern and made sure that I ate every bit of it, and some of the fresh bread she had made this morning. The bread was left with a warning that I was to at least eat some of it as toast in the morning. I did my best to highlight that in my letter to Will, although I did not gloss over how much I missed him. Not twenty minutes into the train ride home I had cried briefly over it, only soothed by Rigel worming his way around me.

I had called Sylvie as Will had asked me too, and after than first day, she had shown up with her children in tow to force me out of the house. According to her, malingering in a dark bedroom was no way to live, and it was far more useful to go for a walk around a local park. It was even more useful if I carried Mavis for her, although by the end of our walk my arms were burning. Sylvie laughed as I grumbled while shifting her daughter around, "You are going to have to get much stronger before you have your first."

"I am not becoming a weightlifter." I muttered, "Perambulators exist for a reason, you know."

"They do much better if they get used to you holding them." She replied, looking down to her sons. "You both used to enjoy being held rather than being pushed."

Roger stuck out his tongue, "I was never held!"

"Just because you don't remember it doesn't mean it didn't happen." Sylvie smirked, herding all of us back towards the house. "Now, for dinner, I noticed a large block of cheese and some noodles dressed in it would do well."

She was an exacting taskmaster in the kitchen, and it seemed that she hardly did anything. I was the one who was kneading dough and slicing it into noodles, melting the cheese into milk and mixing in herbs. Sylvie found me lacking in almost all areas, and by the end of the noodle making my arms were burning. While Roger and Trevor were devouring their portions, she daintily tasted hers. "I suppose it's acceptable, although you should have added some pepper."

I pursed my lips as I gathered a mess of noodles on my plate. "You were tasting it the whole time."

"I can't always supervise your cooking, you know. But this is a credible first effort. We can continue tomorrow."

"Sylvie," I groaned, dreading what part of me would be sore after her teaching. "I'm afraid I can't do tomorrow. I'm down to the offices, and I'll be in London shortly."

She paused; her fork lifted. "London?"

"Yes, I've been asked to testify in the inquiry." I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. "I'll be there for a week, I need to make arrangements."

She nodded, "We can take care of Rigel, if needed. The boys love him."

"I'm going to take him with," I confessed, eating some of my noodles. "He's a great comfort during situations like this, but you all are welcome to the food that's in the house. My mother intends to keep sending a small shipment for me." A thought occurred to me, and I smiled. "In fact, you're welcome to the food anytime. You need it far more than me, what with your three and soon to be fourth."

Sylvie blushed, "Anastasia, that's not necessary. Bertie sends home his pay, so we're doing alright."

"Then why are the boys devouring a meal of mediocre noodles?" I cocked my head, looking to where the boys were helping themselves to second portions. "Sylvie, I can't eat all of it and I'd rather it go to where it's needed."

Her resolve lasted a few more minutes before she nodded. "We can continue your culinary education, and I will keep bringing the boys. I can even show you how to cook for Mavis, it's much simpler."

"And you." I teased, gesturing towards her belly. "Not to mention that one."

She brought a hand down to gently rub her slightly swollen stomach, "I have to admit, they're the one that had you cooking with that cheese. I've been craving it lately, and it's been hard to find."

"Not now, it isn't."

To say Mr. Welton was nervous when I summoned him to my office was an understatement. The man was practically shaking until I asked him to sit, and he then began twisting his hands. I raised a brow, "Mr. Welton, is everything alright?"

"Yes, ma'am." He swallowed, "It's just, has something displeased you?"

"Displeased me?" I cocked my head, "Why would you think I was upset with your actions?"

"Because you're here, again." He shifted in his seat. "You were just here recently, I thought you had found some discrepancy that you were going to sack me over."

I sighed, and stood to go to the bar and pour him a drink. "Basil, just because I've returned it doesn't mean that anything is wrong." I thought better of it and poured myself a glass of whiskey as well. "If anything, your records are impeccable. I'm quite impressed."

At least his hand didn't shake as he took the glass of whiskey. "Thank you, ma'am. But why are you here, then?"

I settled back behind the desk, sipping my drink. "Because to be quite frank, I need a distraction to keep me from becoming bored. Back in New York, I went into the offices more often. I thought that I might as well do the same here."

"Oh," He visibly calmed, letting out a breath. "I see."

"So there's no reason for you to feel nervous whenever I walk in." I chuckled, "It's more for my own peace of mind. It keeps me from being bored and makes me feel like I'm doing something to help the war effort."

Basil took a healthy swallow, "I understand what you've mean. My eldest has taken up nursing, although in a local hospital and not a field one, thank God."

"Nursing, very useful." I smiled, tucking that idea away. That was another task I could do, another way to keep myself busy. "I hope that she hasn't had to deal with too much."

"She doesn't tell us much." He shrugged. "We don't press either."

"Probably for the best." I admitted, standing again to draw the blinds over the window that looked out over the clerks. "There is one matter I did want to discuss with you specifically, though."

"Oh?"

I sat back down, lowering my voice. "Has Naval Intelligence been asking around? One of them came to Will and I's house the day after I got in, he knew right where it was. If he knew that, then he likely knows about the company."

Basil furrowed his brow, concentrating. "I can't say that I've noticed anything, then again, I haven't been looking. There's not anything for him to find, right?"

"Of course not." I snorted. "Breaking neutrality is not something that neither I nor my mother are interested in, despite the entreaties of some in the government here."

"Then why would he be looking?"

"I'm not sure, but he was far too interested and knowledgeable for his trip to our house to have been the first time he investigated my interests in Southampton. I don't want it getting out that the company is under investigation, if it is. It could create problems back in New York, and I'd hate to put that on Mother."

"Then your instructions?"

"Pass the word around the porters and the longshoremen to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and the officers too. I trust you and your men to monitor the offices, and to make sure that no one is gossiping too much."

He nodded; his brow furrowed. "It will be difficult; the same men don't always show up to take their deliveries. And you know how people around the docks gossip. I don't doubt that my wife knows what you had for dinner last night."

"Do your best." I sighed, sipping my drink. "I can't say what he's hoping to find."

"German spies coming from America?" Basil raised a brow. "Or perhaps he thinks you're smuggling. I can assure you that everything is above board in terms of that."

"Of course," I nodded. "As if I needed another headache at the moment."

"Another?"

"Yes, I also came to ask for your help." I admitted, smiling a little sheepishly. "If I had a staff here I wouldn't bother you with it, but I'm rather on my own."

He snorted, "Your father often did the same thing, I don't mind playing the valet when needed."

"Given that it comes with tips, I didn't think you'd mind." I chuckled, making him laugh. "I need you to call the Ritz in London and arrange for a room for a week. And make sure they know I'm bringing my dog."

"London, ma'am?"

"I've been called to testify in the inquiry covering the Lusitania." I leaned back in my chair, wishing my glass was full. "I've been told to stay the full week, hence the hotel room."

He winced, "My apologies, ma'am. That cannot be easy on you. I'll make the arrangements and send over someone with the details."

"Thank you, Basil." I smiled, "Now, is there any more boring paperwork for me to distract myself with?"

Rigel was not pleased with me the morning of our departure. He was very deliberately pouting, refusing to move from his place on the parlor floor. I anxiously looked out at where my trunks were being loaded onto the cab, and gave his leash another tug. "Rigel, please, we need to go."

He gave a whuff, but stayed where he was. I groaned, "You needed to get brushed! I didn't know Roger would be so aggressive." When Sylvie and the boys had visited the night before to see me off, Roger had thrown himself into the task of brushing Rigel, who had decided to begin shedding. Unfortunately, Sylvie and I had been too distracted by our attempts at a cake to notice that Roger wasn't being gentle with the brush.

Rigel had come yelping into the kitchen, cowering behind my legs while I was trying to whip egg whites. Sylvie had almost blown her stack at her son, until I had gone over Rigel and confirmed that there was no permanent damage. Roger hadn't even ripped out any hair, he had just been too harsh. But that had meant that after they had left I had been required to brush out Rigel myself and he had been suspicious of every brushstroke.

Hence his attitude this morning.

It took promising him a plate full of eggs at the Ritz for him to get to his feet and begrudgingly follow me out to the cab. He at least behaved as we arrived at the train station, a bit clingy as we entered the rush of people. I did my best to baby him as I flagged down porters and we found a bench to wait for our train. He sat by my feet, panting as I ruffled his ears. "You'll enjoy London, silly boy. The Ritz will have plenty of food for you, and we'll walk by a park every day. I'm quite sure there will be some birds for you to chase there."

The walk through the park would be a relief for me as well, after each day of the inquiry. I hoped that it didn't last long, Will had once remarked on how draining he found the various inquiries and how they seemed to stretch on forever. I could only hope this Lord Mersey was better than Senator Smith, although that would be hardly difficult.

I doubted I'd be asked if I'd simply mistaken a fish for a torpedo.

It was still rather nerve-wracking though, and I had spent the nights before my departure writing out as much as I could remember from the voyage. I had avoided personal details, there was no need for the British papers to write about how Oscar had showered my cabin in flowers, but I had noted everything else. It had led to several sleepless nights where I had only been comfortable to sleep in the afternoon the next day, Rigel beside me on the bed.

He truly was a great comfort, even if he did cause some consternation for the London cabby that took me to the Ritz. At least there he was expected, with a steward ready to take his leash from me while I spoke to the manager about my reservation. As with any hotel of this standard, he was all obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Murdoch, welcome to the Ritz. We were so honored by your reservation; shall I have some champagne ready in your room?"

I raised a hand, "Thank you, but that's not necessary."

"Oh, I insist." He snapped his fingers, summoning another steward who was dispatched to leave a bucket of ice and a bottle of champagne in my room. "We can't have it said that we don't take care of our guests." He smiled widely. "Can I provide advice on any local establishments for you to visit?"

"I'm afraid this is a business trip." I dearly wished I had Rigel's leash in my hand. "I more than likely will just be in the restaurant the entire time."

The manager brightened for a moment, "Oh, I did have a request to pass on. A naval officer, I'm afraid I didn't get his name, requested you to join him for dinner in our restaurant."

Thinking of Barnes, and how much I would enjoy speaking of his memories of Will, I nodded. "I'd be glad to, but I am afraid I must freshen up first."

"Of course, your belongings are already in your room and I will have a maid sent up to help you dress." He looked to the steward holding Rigel, who was loudly sniffing the air. "We can have him housed in a separate room, if you would like."

I held out my hand for his leash, although I was a bit unsettled as Rigel growled slightly. "I can handle him; I do so enjoy having him close. If you could have a steward feed him though, and see to his other needs?"

He nodded, although the steward looked rather disturbed as Rigel growled loudly. "Of course, I shall send him with your maid." The steward was given the duty of seeing me up to my room, and I couldn't help the sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. The rooms were wonderfully appointed, a lovely pale jade wallpaper and oak furnishings that created a feeling of airiness. For once, I felt like I could breathe.

I wasn't even that upset by the champagne waiting for me, although I did struggle opening the bottle a bit. Rigel at least seemed to find it amusing as I finally got the cork out and poured myself a glass. I raised it in a toast to him, "What is wrong with you, boy? You never growl like that."

He gave a woof, and moved off to sniff around the room. I rolled my eyes at him, sipping my champagne. Rigel was usually quite calm and loving, his behavior was odd. The only time he had acted with any aggression had been around the Reichsters and when I had loosed him on my attempted kidnappers. But there was no way the Reichsters could be here in the Ritz, they would be back in New York.

I pondered exactly what they could be doing in New York. There they would be free to advance German interests, for neutrality meant that all sides could be considered. So long as munitions weren't shipped, and they didn't overtly commit treason, then they could act as they pleased. I didn't doubt that they'd be doing as much as they could, much as I did with British interests. But there was something that could gum up the works though, and I had found myself a part of it.

Over a hundred Americans had died on the Lusitania, and according to the British papers the public were up in arms and demanding German blood. People were besieging Congress and harassing President Wilson wherever he went, begging him to take the country to war. And it wasn't only Americans begging for war, British and French representatives were doing whatever they could to entice the President to join in.

I hadn't seen what Wilson had said about it, but I had no doubt he'd waffle his way through it without showing a bit of spine. The man was a coward and hid it behind the face of neutrality. Heaven forbid that my country stand by her friends, regardless of if we were cordial with Germany. They'd started it, what with invading Belgium, and now my husband and I were caught up in it.

I smiled briefly, thinking about what President Roosevelt would have done. T.R had been a fixture at parties since I had been a girl, long before he had been President. He always had a story, and didn't mind when a girl wanted to sit in and listen. While I couldn't say that he and Father had been close, they had at least been friendly to each other. T.R had never been over for family dinners, but he was kind at parties and always enjoyed speaking with Father. There was no way he would have stood by after an attack like this, Roosevelt would have dragged the country kicking and screaming into the war. It may have taken time, but in the end it would have been worth it. My hand drifted to some of the paper left out on the writing desk, the Ritz letterhead proudly displayed.

Perhaps Mother should reach out to our acquaintance, and Will would no doubt be interested in what I was up to.

I had just finished my letter to Mother when a demure knock sounded, the maid coming to help me dress. A steward had come with her to take Rigel for a brief walk and his own dinner. The maid was quiet as she helped me into my corset and dinner dress, a soft silver chiffon from the trunks Mother had sent over. My pearls had also been included, and I touched them gratefully. It felt good to wear something pretty, to have my familiar pearls nestled against my skin. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to have Will on my arm as I entered the restaurant.

The maître'd guided me through the darkened restaurant, already full of women in gowns and men in uniform. It seemed even war couldn't stop the ton from coming to dine at the Ritz before a night on the town, although I felt my expression harden as the maître'd stopped at a table and gestured towards my chair. Instead of Lieutenant Barnes, Lieutenant Campbell and another man in uniform were already sat.

Campbell stood, bowing, and pulled my chair out for me. "Mrs. Murdoch, lovely to see you again."

"Lieutenant Campbell," I gave the briefest of nods, a rather rude one, as I sat. I looked at the man across from me, noting his mustache. "I don't believe I know you."

"Captain Nigel de Bourgh," He extended a hand, drawing it back slowly when I didn't take it. "I must admit I didn't quite believe Benedict here when he described you, but I can see he was correct. You are a beauty, Mrs. Murdoch."

I pursed my lips. "You don't need to flatter me, Captain. Why exactly are the two of you here?"

"I believe we can discuss that after dinner." de Bourgh lifted the menu. "On the Admiralty, of course."

Campbell was already perusing his menu closely, "Perhaps this Russian salad for you, Mrs. Murdoch?"

"Perhaps not." I grumbled, quickly reading the menu. "I'll be having the steak, and a lobster." de Bourgh had sense to not comment on my choices as we ordered. I let the silence draw out as we waited, sipping my wine.

Campbell was squirming in his chair, glancing between the two of us. "Mrs. Murdoch, you must let us extend the deepest sympathies from the Admiralty that you had to go through such a trying event, and that you are being forced to relive it for the inquiry."

"Indeed," de Bourgh latched onto that. "Such barbarity, the Germans lower themselves every day. They knew there were innocents onboard. What I've read about what the survivors went through, it's enough to make me want to join the Army and take the fight to them."

I considered the large patch of gray hair on his head and the wrinkles around his eyes. "I have a strange feeling you are already serving your country in some way."

"Indeed I am." He raised his glass of wine to me. "Although what I wouldn't give to be like your husband, leading the charge against Tirpitz."

"My husband is only a captain, and a new one at that."

"And yet he will be serving under Beatty, a great honor." de Bourgh grinned. "And we shall extend that honor to his wife. The Admiralty will provide you with a car to drive you to the inquiry each day, and Lieutenant Campbell will personally escort you through the press. They're already swarming."

I let a breath out through my nose as I set my glass down. "That won't be necessary, I'm quite looking forward to walking through the park each day. As is my dog, he's rather large and needs his exercise."

"Still, Campbell will be by your side to assist you with anything." de Bourgh nodded to the Lieutenant. "I believe he actually has a matter he wishes to discuss with you."

Campbell pursed his lips. "Sir, perhaps it would be better coming from you."

"Eh, very well." de Bourgh blotted a bit of wine from his mustache. "Mrs. Murdoch, you must understand how important this inquiry will be in terms of British morale."

I nodded, relieved when our waiter brought our food and the conversation lulled for a moment as we began to eat. Unfortunately, de Bough seemed to be able to eat and speak at the same time. "It is imperative that morale be kept high, that your average man on the street wants to turn his entire being to ridding the world of the Hun. Certain statements during the inquiry could lead to that morale dropping."

I raised a brow, my forkful of lobster paused in the air. "Certain statements?"

Campbell glanced up from his fish. "Britain prides herself on her sailors, and if someone were to state that more people could have been saved if the Lusitania had a better quality of man in that role, well, it could cause problems."

I chewed my lobster carefully, following it up with a piece of steak. "I believe I understand what you're getting at. You wish me to lie."

"For the good of the war effort." de Bourgh tried to soothe me. "If it came out it could cause the public to lose faith in us."

I swiped up the last bit of sauce on my plate, chewing the final piece of steak. "But at the inquiry I will swear to tell the truth, and I will."

de Bourgh sighed, gesturing to Campbell. "Go on, then."

He nodded, reaching down into a bag I hadn't noticed and pulling a cardboard sleeve from it. "Mrs. Murdoch, I think you might want to see this."

I took the sleeve, opening it to reveal a paper between two sheets of foolscap. When I drew one away, my heart fell through my stomach. It was a caricature of myself, dripping in jewels and in a ball gown, leaning over to reveal quite a bit of my decolletage as I wrote a letter. Underneath were the words "Oh, I simply cannot wait to join you! I'm packing all my jewels to bring over on the Lusitania!"

But it was what was underneath that that made my blood run cold.

Will was rendered as accurately as me, sitting at a desk groaning with food while he wrote his own letter. "I must thank you for purchasing me this command, Anastasia. It's the largest ship I've commanded since Titanic!" My eyes trailed upward, seeing the title. The New Navy Man, His Position Secured By Bribery and Backed Up By Incompetence.

I closed the sleeve, "Who made this for you?"

"We did not commission this." de Bourgh coughed gently. "Campbell here found it in a newspaper artist's desk and collected it before it could be published."

Campbell preened a bit. "Well, with the benefit of censors and all it was hardly difficult." And then he jerked the sleeve from my hands. "But you see why your saying the right thing is needed, such small matters can cause such large problems."

"I believe I understand." I folded my hands in my lap, looking at de Bourgh. "I speak as you want me to and the cartoon isn't published."

"For the good of the country." de Bourgh went for his wine again. "And for your husband."

"Then give me the cartoon, and I'll do it."

He raised a brow. "I'm afraid it's not so simple. The cartoon will remain in our possession until after your testimony." He nodded to Campbell. "The Lieutenant will speak to you tomorrow during your walk over about how you should proceed if asked certain questions."

Campbell grinned widely. "I'm sure we'll get along like old friends, won't we, Mrs. Murdoch?" I didn't speak through dessert, nor as they settled when Campbell would be meeting me in the morning. I barely thank the maid who helped me undress, but I did ask her for one thing.

I had her leave me a bottle of whiskey in my room, and spent the rest of the night curled around Rigel.