A Family for the Titanic Survivor

by Lauri Robinson

  “Of course, sir,” Willard said.

  The eggs and pancakes were delicious, as was the coffee, and Bridget was hungry, yet the food sat heavy in her stomach at the idea of speaking privately with Karl. It was understandable he wanted to know all that had happened; she just wasn’t ready to relive it. Her entire life seemed to be a series of reliving things. There had always been issues at the pub, where she’d had to explain what had happened and when. Brawls, broken tables and bottles. Da’s illness and death.

  This was different, though. There was something about him that kept making her heart thud oddly.

  The meal proceeded with an unnatural slowness, and when it was over, Bridget, as she had most of her life, squared her shoulders to face what she had to face. Coming to America had been her father’s dream; having a life where she wasn’t confronted with one disaster after the other was what she dreamed of.

  She’d have that someday. In Chicago, while running her own boardinghouse. She’d be in control then.

  After Elsie had been delivered to the kitchen, Bridget left the dining room with Karl. Seated in a room hosting a large wooden desk, a set of wood chairs, a large, brown leather davenport and heavy brocade drapes hanging beside the tall windows, she kept her chin up, waiting for Karl to speak.

  He’d been silent since they’d entered the room. She wondered if he wanted her to talk first, but she had no idea where to start.

  “Am I to understand that you were not hired to be Elsie’s nanny?” he finally said.

  “Yes, I was never hired or employed by—to be her nanny.” She had been asked, several times, but refused because that wasn’t what Da had wanted for her.

  “Then where is her nanny?” he asked, standing near the window, across the large room from where she sat on the davenport. “The list of survivors that I received from the Carpathia, specifically stated Elsie Wingard and her nanny.”

  “I did say that I was her nanny to the people on the Carpathia because people kept assuming I was her mother.” Her heart ached as she continued, “I spent the entire first day, from the moment we were on board the ship until night fell, searching for her parents.” The hope of finding Benjamin had vanished almost immediately. The lifeboats had been full of widows, sobbing and crying for their husbands. She had held out hope for Annette and continued to search the survivors every day. In the small ship’s hospital, she had found her berth mate, Catherine, and Catherine’s brother Sean, but other than that, the ship had been full of strangers.

  He walked to the desk and leaned his arms on the back of the chair. “How did Elsie come to be in your care?”

  “While boarding the ship in Southampton, I saw a doll falling from the first-class pier and caught it before it fell in the water. After boarding, I found Elsie and gave her the doll.” She took a breath, and told herself to relate the story as simply as possible. “When Annette explained that Mrs. Conrad had broken her foot, I offered to watch Elsie during some of the events that Benjamin and Annette were committed to attending. One of those events was the night of the accident. Elsie and I were put in a lifeboat, together.”

  “You never saw Benjamin and Annette that night?”

  She bit her lips together for a moment while shaking her head. “Not after they left the cabin at seven.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “A small village north of Dublin.”

  “Am I correct in assuming you were emigrating to America?”

  “Yes. To Chicago. I have distant family there.”

  “Are they expecting you?” He scratched the side of his face, near his temple, as if thinking. “Did they know you were aboard the Titanic?”

  Her skin shivered slightly at his question. “No. Why?”

  He walked around the chair and leaned a hip against the side of the desk. “As you can see, Miss McGowen, without Mrs. Conrad, my home is not sufficiently staffed to take care of Elsie properly. Each of the household employees have specific duties to see to that keep them busy. Since you have already formed a relationship with Elsie, I shall employee you to be her nanny until the return of Mrs. Conrad.”

  She had started shaking her head as soon as she’d understood what he’d been about to suggest. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have things to do.” So many things. “I need to continue on to Chicago.”

  “How? Do you have the means?”

  Her skin shivered. She didn’t have the means to do anything, but she had the will. “I will find the means. It’s what I have to do.”

  “If your family isn’t waiting on you, a month or so won’t matter,” he said sternly. “Furthermore, as I’ve said, you’ve already formed a relationship with Elsie. She likes you.”

  “I like her, but I cannot—”

  “Yes, you can.” He walked back around the corner of the desk and sat in the chair. “I’ll pay you the same salary as Mrs. Conard.” With somewhat of a nod toward the door, he said, “Thank you, Miss McGowen.”

  Thank you? Did he think this was the end of the conversation? She took a moment, half wondering if she’d said something for him to assume that, but knew she hadn’t. “No, you won’t, Mr. Wingard, because I can’t stay.” She had thought he was like Annette and Benjamin, but he was far more like most of the other men she’d met over the years. A horse’s arse for assuming she’d do exactly what they asked, when they asked it. She wasn’t anyone’s servant, and never would be.

  “What do you suggest I do, Miss McGowen?”

  Stop calling her Miss McGowen in that tone for one. It was stiffening her spine. “Hire a nanny.”

  “I don’t have time. There’s an inquiry starting today concerning the sinking of the Titanic, at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and I will be in attendance.” His tone grew colder, firmer, as he spoke. “I will be in attendance every day until I find out exactly how and why my brother and his wife died. That commitment will not permit me the time to put the proper attention toward advertising, interviewing and hiring a nanny. If you believe the wage I’m offering is below you, you are mistaken.”

  “Below me?” Anger drove her to her feet. This was the very thing she had not wanted to encounter in America. “I do not believe anything is above or below anyone. God created all races, all nations, from one blood, for his purposes! It is men, bigoted men, who, like you, believe they are above others!”

  “It is the way of the world, Miss McGowen.”

  There it was again, that tone. The way he said her name. As if he had to spit it out. “That does not make it right, Mr. Wingard.” She spit his name out in return.

  “Neither is my niece going without a nanny because of your stubbornness.”

  “My stubbornness?” Thoroughly irritated, she muttered a curse on him. “Ualach sé chapall de chré na h-úire ort.”

  He stared at her for a long moment and then laughed.

  She glared at him, not finding humor in any of this.

  “Do you believe you are the first Irish person to set foot in America?” he asked. “To toss out a curse like you are holier than thou?”

  She lifted her chin. No, she did not believe that, but he deserved to be cursed for filling her with guilt. Elsie did need a nanny; it just couldn’t be her.

  “Six horse loads of graveyard clay upon you,” he said. “That is what you just cursed me with, is it not?”

  She stared at him without blinking, flustered he’d understood her completely. There was also a sting of guilt inside her that she’d have said that particular curse. He’d just lost his brother and sister-in-law, so she shouldn’t have said graveyard clay. He’d just irritated her to her wit’s end.

  He licked his lips and glanced away, which she was thankful for so she could close her eyes for a moment in order to collect her decorum. Da always said she riled too easily. That she needed to learn to control her temper and h
old her tongue. It had caused more than one patron to stomp out of the pub, threatening to never return. Da had said it wasn’t proper for her to curse others, either.

  “What I meant,” he said, “and what you mistook, was that Mrs. Conrad has been with my family for many, many years, and her salary, the same which I am willing to pay you, is far higher than you will find elsewhere.”

  She had not thought that was what he meant. Not at all.

  “I was also being truthful when I said that I will be very busy the next few weeks. I will be. I have no idea how long the inquiry will continue, but I will be there. Every day.”

  That, too, irritated her. Elsie was alive, Annette and Benjamin weren’t. He should be focused on his niece, on what she needed, not on his brother and sister-in-law. No matter what he did, he couldn’t bring them back. If he didn’t realize that, she felt inclined to point it out. “Elsie needs attention right now. She has been through so much. She needs to know she’s not alone.”

  “I understand that,” he said, “which is why I’m asking you to provide her the utmost attention, right now, when she needs it. I can’t be two places at once.”

  He was still thinking about himself. That shouldn’t surprise her. Men. She had certainly had her fill of them during her twenty-two years of life. No matter where they lived, men seemed to be the same.

  “I need to leave in half an hour, Miss McGowen,” he said. “Can I trust you will remain here, with Elsie, during my absence?”

  Was he insinuating she’d leave Elsie alone? She hadn’t done that for days, and wouldn’t now! “I will be here,” she said, anger still running through her blood, especially at the way he said her name. “Not because you hired me, because you didn’t. I will be here because Elsie needs love and affection right now. Something you not only don’t have time for, you appear incapable of even understanding what that is!” Needing to prove that, she added, “Children shouldn’t eat in the kitchen. They should eat with their family!”

  * * *

  Karl pinched his lips together, watching as she marched toward the door. He hadn’t felt like smiling in days, but she was so full of spit and fire, it was hard not to. That had surprised him. She’d appeared timid last night and during breakfast.

  “And,” she said, spinning to look at him while opening the door, “my name is Bridget, not Miss McGowen.”

  “Very well, Bridget,” he said. His smile broke loose as her long black hair flipped and flopped as she spun again and marched out of his office, shutting the door firmly in her wake. In that moment, he found great appreciation for Bridget McGowen, for he doubted anyone would have protected his niece with more passion the past several days than her.

  He hadn’t meant to insult her, and had been surprised that she’d refused his offer. She was right in the fact that he didn’t have time right now, and that he didn’t know what children needed. He was an uncle. Not a father. Benjamin and Annette had set the schedule of Elsie eating in the kitchen. Or maybe Mrs. Conrad had. He truly had no idea. He and Benjamin had eaten with their father for as long as he could remember. They may have eaten in the kitchen when very small, before their mother left, but... Ah, hell, it didn’t matter. He needed to leave. A special subcommittee of the Senate had organized hearings to begin this morning and he wasn’t going to miss a minute of testimony. Someone was responsible for his brother’s death. For leaving his niece an orphan. For leaving him in a situation he was ill prepared to undertake. Including hiring a nanny!

  He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. Nannies should be old and crotchety, not young, pretty and stubborn.

  Chapter Four

  The expansive ballroom had been arranged in a court-like setting, with a panel of senators seated at the front of the room, chairs for interviewees positioned before them and row upon row of heavy upholstered chairs for spectators.

  There were plenty of those, spectators, from all over, and a literal plethora of reporters. Karl took a seat next to several other major investors of the White Star Line. Frustration coiled in his stomach knowing many of them were there because of money, not the lives that had been lost.

  He had to wonder if he’d be here, like them, with the same interests they had, if not for Benjamin and Annette. That left him unsettled. He’d been born into wealth and had worked on building that wealth his entire life, but at this moment, he would give it all up to have Benjamin and Annette alive. Here with their daughter. Able to watch her grow. Guide her through life.

  They weren’t. This inquiry wouldn’t change that, but if there was something that could be done to prevent another disaster like this, he had to be a part of it. For them. So that their lives hadn’t been taken in vain.

  He had to do that for Elsie.

  The inquiry didn’t get underway until after ten that morning. Karl listened to the opening remarks and took notes on all the subjects that would be discussed over the next few days. Following that was a long report about the White Star Line, including those who had invested in capital for the Titanic and her sister ships. That list included his name, and Benjamin’s, which caused people to glance his way and murmur.

  As a report on the building of the Titanic and the testing of her waterproof compartments began, Karl’s mind drifted. He’d read a similar report months ago, and as he glanced around the room, at survivors who’d been asked to testify, his thoughts drifted to Miss McGowen.

  Bridget.

  He withheld the smile that tried to form as he thought of her informing him that was her name while stomping out of his office this morning, the hem of her skirt swishing around her shins. His thoughts paused on that. Shins, not ankles. He hadn’t realized at the time, but her dress had been too large in places, while also being too short. It must have been borrowed. Mary must have loaned it to her. Of course, she had, because Bridget had lost everything except for the clothes on her back during the sinking.

  Why hadn’t he realized that? Elsie had returned home to a closet full of clothes, but Bridget hadn’t. He settled a thoughtful gaze on some of the survivors in the room. Although they too had lost everything, they had the means to obtain new clothes.

  The first witness called to testify was the managing director of the White Star Line, followed by the captain of the Carpathia. The captain’s report of the field of icebergs he’d encountered, and how the passengers of the Carpathia shared whatever they could with the survivors—from blankets to extra clothing and shoes—had Karl’s throat going dry at the terrifying ordeal Elsie and Bridget had lived through.

  The committee adjourned for a lunch break after the captain’s account, and the first thing Karl did was find a telephone.

  Julia Robertson, an integral part of why the Wingard Brothers office continued to operate to the highest level whether he was in the office or not, answered his call. After a short discussion about the inquiry and the amount of a donation she should send to the Red Cross on behalf of the company, he said, “I would like you to complete a personal errand for me.”

  “Of course, sir,” Julia replied. “What do you need?”

  “My niece’s nanny remained in England, and the woman who took care of Elsie during the voyage will remain with Elsie until Mrs. Conrad returns home. She lost everything during the voyage. I’d like you to go shopping for her and have the items delivered to the house.”

  “Certainly. What does she need?”

  “All the necessities,” he said, not knowing exactly what that all entailed. If today was an indication of anything, it suggested the hearing would take far more than a week. “Everything she might need on a daily basis. Clothes, shoes, hats, coats. I don’t have a list, but anything, everything you can think of that a woman needs for at least a month.”

  “Do you know her size?” Julia asked. “Never mind, I know you’re busy. I’ll call your home. Speak to Mrs. Andrews.”

  “Yes, do that, and have the items deliver
ed as soon as possible.”

  “Of course. Is there anything else?”

  He searched his mind, but still wasn’t sure of what was truly needed. “Just make sure there is plenty of everything and make sure they are nice.” Something else Bridget had said registered, and he added, “And see if you can find a stool so Elsie can comfortably sit at the dining room table.”

  “I’ll have everything delivered today, sir.”

  He hung up, ate and made his way back into the inquiry room. The afternoon witnesses included the Second Officer of the Titanic. As had happened that morning, when the managing director of the White Star Line had been sworn in, rumbles spread through the crowd, questioning how these men had survived when so many other prominent men and women hadn’t. Karl couldn’t deny those thoughts entered his mind, but were overshadowed by other thoughts, mainly of Elsie and Bridget.

  They had to have been so terrified, so cold, so uncertain. He wanted to leave, to go home and confirm that they were safe. Alive.

  He grinned to himself. She’d probably curse him again.

  Karl remained at the inquiry, taking notes because he was not sure he would remember all that was being said. The final person to testify for the day was a bedroom steward, whose account of truly horrifying incidents had Karl’s full attention. Adjournment was called at ten-thirty that night. Prior to leaving, Karl found the young steward and shook his hand.

  “You played a major role in saving the life of my niece, and I just wanted to thank you,” Karl said.

  “You’re welcome, sir,” the man said, his eyes filling with moisture. “May I ask your niece’s name?”

  “Elsie Wingard.”

  The man nodded as a reverent smile appeared on his face. “Your niece’s rescue can be more attributed to her nanny than to me, sir. Even while rowing, Miss McGowen never let go of Elsie. She kept her on her lap. Others offered to hold the child, but she refused.” He bowed his head slightly while adding, “Will you please offer her my condolences? She’d asked me to find Elsie’s parents, tell them they’d been put in a life boat, but there wasn’t time. I didn’t have the heart to tell her, not even while on the Carpathia.”