‘You’re a good girl, but I have, all the same. As soon as she heard Carl was taking me to Europe she paid me a visit and started giving me orders. “Evelyn loves Maison Worth” she said to me. “Charles Worth is a couturier,’ she said, like she was talking to a child. “Yes, I know who Charles Worth is,” I snapped back at her. “As a matter of fact I bought one of his frocks for Vicky the last time I was over there.” Frocks?” she said, like she didn’t know what I was talking about. “Oh, you mean gowns.” Now would you believe it, she ended by telling me I could bring some Worth gowns back for her Evelyn, without ever a please or a thank you.’
‘Well!’ exclaimed Emilia.
Mrs Latimer nodded her head.
‘That’s just how I felt. But I was feeling low and so I didn’t say anything. Well, away we went to Europe. Carl thought it would do me good. And it might have done, if I’d gone out and enjoyed myself, but I stayed in hotel rooms most of the time.’ She shook her head. ‘Anyway, when we got to Paris, Carl made them bring some frocks to the hotel so I could look them over. He wanted to buy some for his sisters. He’s always been so good to them. He’s always been good to us all. Well, I chose some frocks for my girls, all right. And then I did a mean thing.’
‘ I suppose you didn’t buy Evelyn a gown,’ said Emilia. ‘But then, why should you? It’s not as if you’d offered to buy her one.’
Mrs Latimer pursed her lips.
‘You’ll think me a very wicked old woman,’ she said, ‘but I did something worse. I did buy her one, a lovely frock, the prettiest in the whole collection.’
‘I hardly see why that’s mean,’ said Emilia confused.
There was a twinkle in Mrs Latimer’s eye.
‘Well, now,’ she said, trying to suppress her laughter, ‘I bought the wrong size so it wouldn’t fit her! Evelyn’s a beefy girl, and it’s far too small! I shouldn’t be laughing,’ said Mrs Latimer, tears running down her cheeks. ‘It wasn’t a nice thing to do, and it will be even worse to give it to her, knowing she won’t be able to get it on! I really can’t do it, even thought it cheered me up just to think of it at the time.’ She sobered. ‘I don’t like the waste, though. I’ve been poor long enough to know it’s a sin to be wasteful.’
‘Can’t you give the gown to one of your daughters?’ asked Emilia. ‘I’m sure they’d like it.’
Mrs Latimer shook her head. ‘It’s too small for them as well,’ she said. ‘They’re fine girls, but well made. They’re not beefy like Julia, but they’ve got broad shoulders and fine bosoms. They’re not little sylphs like you.’
Her expression suddenly changed, becoming thoughtful. ‘Well, do you know, it would be just the thing for you,’ she said, as though she’d just thought of it. She brightened. ‘That’s it. I’ll give it to you.’
‘I couldn’t possibly accept it,’ began Emilia, taken aback.
‘Why not? If you have it, it won’t be wasteful, and I won’t feel mean for buying it. It’s such a pretty frock. It’s got beads all over the bodice, and you should see the way they shine! You’ll look lovely in it. It will suit you.’ She looked at Emilia consideringly. ‘It’s just the colour of your eyes. Say you’ll have it, dear.’
‘Well … ’
Emilia was torn. On the one hand she wanted to help Mrs Latimer, and the gown sounded like a dream come true, but on the other hand she did not feel she could possible accept such a generous gift.
‘It would show those old biddies a thing or two,’ Mrs Latimer tempted her. ‘In all my life I’ve never heard anything worse than what they were saying the other night. “What’s she wearing? Her grandmother’s dress?” ’ she said, mimicking some of the comments that had followed Emilia when she had worn Aunt Clem’s old gown.
‘That wasn’t the worst,’ confided Emilia. ‘The night before, I wore a home-made dress. They amused themselves by wondering if I’d know which cutlery to use, and whether I’d drink out of the finger bowl.’
‘Then that’s that,’ said Mrs Latimer.
Emilia made her decision.
‘It’s very kind of you … ’
‘Good. A bit of kindness to set against a bit of unkindness. What could be better than that?’
‘Thank you,’ said Emilia. ‘I’d love to wear it.’
‘I’ll send Miss Epson round with it.’
The clock on the mantelpiece chimed the hour.
‘Is that the time?’ said Mrs Latimer. ‘I didn’t know how late it was getting, I’ve been enjoying myself so much. Now I have to go. I said I’d meet Carl in the café for lunch.’
She said goodbye, then left Emilia with happy thoughts.
A Worth gown! She could hardly believe it. She had always been an admirer of the great couturier. She and Aunt Clem had often poured over his clothes in La Mode Illustrée, and the idea that she would soon be wearing one of his creations was exhilarating. She did not have long to wait to see it. Ten minutes later, Miss Epson arrived with a large box.
‘Oh, I’m so glad you’re going to wear the dress,’ she sighed. ‘It’s so beautiful, and it will look lovely with your golden hair. Oh, dear, I shouldn’t be standing here gossiping. I must be getting back to Mrs Latimer in case she wants me.’
She left Emilia alone with the box.
Unable to resist, Emilia opened it.
Swathes of tissue paper met her eyes. Carefully she opened them to reveal the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. The beading on the bodice was intricate, and sparkled in the light. The waist was high, following the fashionable Empire line. The skirt was indeed beautiful, falling in a column to the floor. But it was the colour that Emilia loved most. She picked up the gown and carried it over to the mirror, holding it up in front of herself. It was a rich blue that brought out the full beauty of her creamy complexion and her sapphire eyes.
There would be no jeering remarks directed towards her clothes tonight. Even in such exalted company, she would be wearing the most beautiful gown in the dining-room.
She could hardly wait!
After lunch, a telegraph arrived from Charles.
Dear Emilia, it read. What wonderful news. I’m delighted to hear you’re on board Titanic. Julia and I will meet you on the pier. She’s a marvellous girl, Emilia. I love her very much, and so will you. We’re both looking forward to seeing you and we insist on you staying with us whilst you’re in New York. Julia wants to take you round all the best shops and I want to find out what’s been happening in England since I left.
Love from
Charles.
The telegraph brought back warm memories of Charles. He sounded more mature than the last time she had seen him. Falling in love with Julia, not to mention taking a job in antiques, seemed to have done him good. The engagement was clearly a happy one, and as he was making a success of his new job, she thought the move to America had been an excellent idea. However, her pleasure in his telegraph and in his invitation to stay was mixed with doubts. Would she be safe with him? Or would Barker or Silas Montmerency try to abduct her in New York?
She thought again of Carl’s offer. It was very tempting. But she knew that if she stayed with him she would not be able to keep her feelings in check. No, it was far better to stay with Charles.
Besides, she was looking forward to seeing him. She had not seen him for years, not since her parents’ death, and she, like him, wanted to catch up on all the news. And of course she wanted to get to know Julia. Once in New York she was sure would have an enjoyable time. She would renew her friendship with Charles, meet Julia, make an account of all the new sights and sounds, and then regale her godmother with them when she finally reached Ireland.
And once she was away from Carl Latimer, she told herself bracingly, she would put him out of her mind for good.
Chapter Eight
Emilia’s eyes sparkled as she looked in the mirror. Mrs McLaren had kindly helped her to dress, and now here she was in the most exquisite gown she’d ever seen, with her mother’s pearls around her thro
at, looking every bit as though she belonged in a first-class stateroom on board the Titanic.
She pulled on her evening gloves, then patting her hair one last time, she left her stateroom and made her way through the ship until she came to the Grand Staircase. It was lit up in spectacular style. The electric lights shone and dazzled, bringing the carved wood of the banisters alive with a warm glow. Below her was a crowd of elegantly-dressed people. The ladies were dressed in just the sort of gowns she and Aunt Clem had enjoyed poring over in La Mode Illustrée . She saw minutely-pleated gowns obviously designed by Fortuny, together with draped gowns by Poiret and others that, like her own, bore all the hallmarks of Maison Worth. The colours were rich and glowing, and brilliant shades of emerald, cerise and royal blue competed with bright flames and golds. The gentlemen’s clothes provided a foil, their white shirts, white bow ties and white waistcoats being teamed with black trousers and tailcoats.
At the foot of the stairs was Mrs Latimer. Next to her was Carl. He was resplendent in evening dress. His broad shoulders and long legs suited the clothes, showing their fine cut. With Carl and Mrs Latimer was a middle-aged couple.
As she began to descend the staircase, Carl looked up and saw her.
She felt a flutter in her breast and her heart started to beat more quickly. He was staring. And as his eyes ran over her, she was aware of the fact that his glance was admiring. She hesitated on the landing, feeling ridiculously pleased, and yet at the same time suddenly self-conscious.
He walked towards her, climbing the stairs, his eyes fixed on her as though he saw no one else.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said.
His voice was low and husky, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘Will you join us for dinner?’ he asked. ‘My mother and I are entertaining a small party at our table.’
She felt a deep regret. She would have liked nothing better than to dine with him, but she had promised Pansy and Robert she would join them.
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I’m engaged to dine with the Wainfleets,’ she said.
‘If that’s the only problem, I’ll invite them to join us, too.’
He gave her his arm, and she rested her hand lightly on it. Even that small contact sent shivers through her body.
Then together they walked down the stairs.
‘Well, you do look lovely,’ said Mrs Latimer, kissing her on the cheek. ‘I knew that frock would suit you, but I never knew it would look like that. You look lovely, dear.’
Emilia disclaimed the compliment, but could not help being pleased. She felt beautiful tonight.
‘Miss Cavendish was due to dine with the Wainfleets,’ said Carl to his guests. ‘I have suggested the three of them join us for dinner.’
‘Well, what a good idea,’ said Mrs Latimer.
‘Excellent,’ said the lady.
‘Miss Cavendish, may I present Mr and Mrs Thirske?’ said Carl, performing the introductions.
Just as he finished the introductions, Pansy and Robert descended the staircase, and he invited them cordially to join his party.
Pansy’s eyebrows rose with excitement.
‘Oh, yes, that sounds very nice. We’d be honoured, wouldn’t we, Robert?’
Robert professed himself very happy, and they all went into the dining-room together.
‘Emilia, you look ravishing,’ said Pansy, as the two ladies took their place at table. ‘Where did you get that gown?’
Emilia told her the story as they settled themselves, whilst the Thirskes occupied Carl and his mother with a conversation about the play they had seen in Southampton before boarding the boat.
‘Do you know, I think your beau’s one of the most handsome men on the ship - after Robert, of course,’ Pansy said in a low voice to Emilia.
‘He’s not my beau,’ protested Emilia.
‘No? Why else would he ask us to dine with him?’ asked Pansy.
‘Because I helped his mother. He’s grateful,’ Emilia told her, explaining the circumstances.
‘He doesn’t look like a man who’s grateful to me,’ said Pansy. ‘He looks like a man who’s in love.’
‘You couldn’t be more wrong,’ said Emilia, flushing. ‘Mr Latimer has no feelings for me beyond gratitude, and perhaps a little friendship.
There was something in her voice that put an end to Pansy’s banter, and she was relieved to find that Pansy allowed her to turn the conversation into more general channels.
As Emilia glanced at the splendid menu she thought how much had changed since the last time she had sat at Carl’s table. Then she had had feelings for him, it was true, but now they were so much deeper. And no matter how much she told herself she should not be encouraging them, she found she could not drive them away. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man, without even knowing it. He was strong yet tender; powerful but not brutal. He was intriguing and mesmerising and wonderfully desirable, she thought, as she glanced at him across the table.
And he was also spoken for.
With a sinking feeling she remembered the magazine article, and the words of Mrs Gisborne. Carl was shortly to become engaged to Miss Isabelle Stott.
Emilia was about to turn her eyes towards her menu again when he looked up, as if feeling her eyes on him. She tried to look away, but she could not do it. Their eyes held. There was something magnetic in his glance which caught her fast.
Even when Mr Thirske be spoke to him he did not look away.
‘We didn’t see you at divine service this morning, Latimer,’ said Mr Thirske.
He answered Mr Thirske, but his eyes never left Emilia’s as he said, ‘No. I’m afraid I overslept.’
‘Late night?’ queried Mr Thirske.
Carl drew his eyes away from Emilia. She could feel what a struggle it had been for him.
‘Something like that,’ he said, unwillingly giving Mr Thirske his full attention.
‘I hope the card sharps didn’t get you,’ said Mr Thirske ruefully. ‘I ran across one of them on our first night out from Southampton. Of course, I didn’t know who he was at the time. I thought he was just a fellow passenger. He seemed so respectable. But that’s his stock in trade, I suppose. He let me win at first, but just as I was getting comfortable he stung me for a large sum.’
Carl nodded sympathetically.
‘There are always a group of them on board any notable sailing.’
‘Still, I’ve learnt my lesson. No more gambling for me,’ said Mr Thirske. ‘Early to bed and early to rise, that’s the ticket.’
‘I thought the service was lovely,’ said Mrs Thirske. ‘Captain Smith has such a wonderful voice. So resonant.’
The ladies agreed.
‘It must be a marvellous life being a Captain,’ went on Mrs Thirske. ‘Walking around and looking impressive and going to dinner with the richest, most famous people in America. He’s dining in the à la carte restaurant this evening, courtesy of the Wideners, or so I hear. George Widener’s the head of a banking and railroad family, you know,’ she said.
‘It’s true, there are perks, but he has a lot of responsibility as well,’ her husband reminded her.
‘Oh, yes, but not on Titanic. What can go wrong on an unsinkable ship? He’ll be sorry to leave all this behind when he retires, I’m sure.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Pansy. ‘We’re sailing into dangerous waters this evening. Do you know, they call this part of the ocean Devil’s Hole.’
‘What nonsense,’ said Robert affably. ‘Whoever told you that? Someone’s been having you on.’
‘It isn’t nonsense, it’s true,’ she returned, unperturbed. ‘It was my stewardess who told me, and she should know. She’s crossed the Atlantic many times before. A lot of her ladies are nervous when they reach this stretch of water, she told me. It’s a dreadful place for accidents. Icebergs can drift down this far, and they can hole a ship.’
‘An ordinary ship, maybe,
’ said Mr Thirske, ‘but not Titanic.’
‘It’s certainly cold enough for icebergs,’ said Robert, taking up the theme. ‘We took a turn on deck before coming into the dining-room and the temperature’s dropped noticeably. It’s going to be a cold night.’
Whilst the others talked, Emilia studiously buried her head in her menu. She was afraid to look up in case she met Carl’s eye. But once she had ordered she could no longer hide, and before her silence could become noticeable to the rest of the dinner party she joined in the conversation.
‘I’ve never seen an iceberg.’
‘They’re beautiful if you see them in the right light,’ said Carl, turning towards her. It seemed as if he were speaking only to her. ‘They can appear to be blue, gold, or even red, instead of the white you might expect. It all depends on what light you see them in.’
‘Do you think we’ll see any tonight?’ asked Mrs Thirske.
‘We might see a few, but only in the distance,’ said Carl, now glancing round the table and including everyone in his remarks. ‘The ship will steer clear of them. We’re more likely to see ice floes, I should think. They’re common at this time of year.’
The first course was served. Conversation dwindled, reviving again between courses, as they discussed everything from the speed of their crossing to the latest novels. The food was excellent, and in the background the music provided the perfect atmosphere as the orchestra played a lively selection of tunes.
‘Well, we’d better go and sit in the lounge so the men can have their cigars and brandies,’ said Mrs Latimer, once dinner was over.
The ladies rose.
‘That was a wonderful meal,’ sighed Pansy, as they went into the lounge. Like the other rooms on the ship it was magnificent. Light and spacious, it had high ceilings and elaborate mouldings, and was decorated in Georgian style. The settees and easy chairs were covered in carmine silk, and were embroidered in tasteful style. The ladies engaged in desultory conversation about the latest fashions, but before long Mrs Latimer was stifling yawns and declaring herself ready for bed.
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