by Jina Bacarr
She was worse off than before.
Ava crawled back into the bunk and wrapped herself in the red and white coverlet, her mind scheming. She wasn’t beaten yet. Sick as she was, she hadn’t given up. Before the ship arrived in New York, she’d find a way out of here.
That she swore as she got on her knees and prayed to the Holy Mother.
Amen to that, Ava O’Reilly.
‘I say, rumor is they found the Irish girl,’ uttered the gentleman behind Buck, so loud it broke his concentration, pulling him right out of his poker game.
What the hell did the man say?
‘Who?’ asked a second man, inquisitive.
‘The whole ship is talking about her, old man. The girl who sneaked on board at Queenstown.’
‘Very well done,’ was his cohort’s reply and the gentlemen clinked their glasses together in mock victory.
Buck’s heart stopped. Christ.
Ava had been found?
It couldn’t be true.
She was safe with the countess in her stateroom, wasn’t she?
Glancing down at his cards, he tapped his fingers on the green felt table, thinking. Hell, what if this outrageous talk wasn’t a rumor? What if the girl had shown up at the Sunday evening concert and someone had spotted her?
That alarming thought shot through him and made him tense his shoulders. No, she wouldn’t do such a foolish thing. Fiona would have sought him out, sent word to him in the smoke room.
What then was the answer?
His head throbbed. Pounded. Grabbing a stack of gaming chips from the pile in front of him, he made his bet.
And listened.
The inebriated gentlemen behind him continued their jovial conversation in lower tones, causing Buck to lean farther back in his chair to continue eavesdropping.
‘I say, she’s a clever piece of gossip to make a rather uneventful crossing more colorful,’ said one man.
‘Either way, I wager we never set eyes on her.’
‘Shall we drink to the mysterious beauty aboard the Titanic?’
Who were these two upstarts?
He turned around to see them look at each other with amused expressions. No doubt they believed the Irish girl’s existence was a White Star Line myth.
Bloody hell, he couldn’t sit here another minute without exploding.
His face broke out in a cold sweat and his breathing became ragged, no doubt giving away his nervousness. His behavior was unforgiveable, going against the cardinal rule of a professional gambler.
Never show your emotions.
He couldn’t help himself. He was about to jump out of his skin.
He downed his brandy, praying he’d heard wrong, at the same time gathering his courage if he hadn’t. Warmth flowed through him like a lovely breeze on a summer’s day, steadying his nerves.
At the same time, a wildness grew within him. Primal. Stirring. This was his last hand for the evening. A desperate urge to hold Ava again in his arms gripped him. Fiona or no Fiona, he couldn’t wait any longer.
He had to make certain she was safe.
Which meant he must make a graceful exit. As a gentleman gambler, he had a reputation to uphold. It would be unseemly for him to dash out without finishing the hand.
He gave his cards a cursory glance. Two pair. It could be four aces for all he cared.
He folded, not giving a damn if he won or lost. A supreme urgency surged through him, dictating he throw caution to the wind. He collected his winnings quickly and bid his poker companions an early good night, much to their protests.
Then he sought out the gentlemen purveyors of this troublesome news. Good breeding required he ask a gentleman of his acquaintance for an introduction first before speaking to them.
To hell with that societal nonsense. Ava’s life was at stake.
Buck approached them boldly.
‘At the risk of being impertinent, gentlemen,’ he said, not wanting to believe what he’d heard, ‘where on the ship did they find the Irish girl?’
‘Word is, your lordship,’ said the first man, recognizing him, ‘she was wandering the Boat Deck around midnight last night when a seaman spotted her.’
‘Alone?’ Buck asked, a queasy feeling knotting in his stomach. That was soon after he’d left Ava with the countess.
‘Yes. Hearsay is the crew member who found her hiding in a lifeboat took liberties with her before alerting the captain,’ he added, snickering.
That did it.
Like a commander surveying the dead after a bloody battle, Buck stared down at the man, disbelieving. He was stunned, unmoving, while the fury raging in him built to such a feverish pitch he exploded inside. He was so outraged he swore his eyes must be bulging out.
All he could think about was Ava being groped by an overly eager seaman.
It was too much for him to bear.
Buck groaned inwardly and barely held onto his temper. He felt strangely suspended, as if this couldn’t be happening to him. He must remain calm, not strike out and knock the hell out of this imprudent messenger. His stance was both wary and defensive. He’d learned the art of subterfuge well. First as a soldier, then as a gentleman gambler. He’d spent years learning how to keep his composure while under fire.
Not tonight.
He was deep in his misery and couldn’t stand here another minute and listen to them talking about Ava and act civil. It wasn’t in him. He couldn’t believe she was lost to him, wouldn’t, damn it.
She meant more to him than life itself.
Without another word, Buck turned and raced through the revolving doors of the smoke room, then jammed down two flights of stairs.
The countess had a lot of explaining to do.
‘Damnation, Fiona, are you telling me Ava isn’t here?’ Buck said, barely able to contain his anger. Only through intense control did he keep from raising his voice. God knew who could be passing by in the corridor and overhear them.
‘She left rather suddenly last night.’ Her voice was calm and disinterested. Or so he gathered she wanted him to believe.
‘Then where the hell is she?’
‘Isn’t she with you, Buck?’ Fiona said in a smug manner, though she avoided looking at him. She continued to put on a brave front in front of him, but her lower lip trembled.
‘No.’
His answer was simple and to the point, startling her. She appeared genuinely shocked.
The countess picked up her teacup, then put it down again as if she didn’t know what to do next, then turned sharply toward him. ‘Oh, Buck, I’m worried. Where is she?’
‘I don’t damned well know. I checked my cabin on my way here. She wasn’t there.’
Buck paced up and down. He had to keep moving or he’d go crazy. Thinking, thinking about Ava being held captive, her eyes wide with fear. On second thought, knowing Ava, when they apprehended her, she’d started kicking and screaming and spewing colorful expletives, threatening to bring the wrath of God down upon any man who touched her.
She’d be lost to him forever if he didn’t act fast. He had to be prepared to do anything to get her back.
He felt for his pistol in his jacket pocket. An insane idea, but then again, he wasn’t sane at the moment.
‘Are you certain you two didn’t have a lovers’ row?’ Fiona asked, digging for information.
Buck neither confirmed nor denied it, a brooding look in his eyes telling her that although he was a man of honor, he had something else on his mind and he wasn’t leaving until he’d had his say.
‘I haven’t seen Ava since you burst into my cabin last night, hurling accusations around like a wronged goddess intent on destroying everything in her path.’ Buck paused, frustrated. ‘Damn it, Fiona, why didn’t you mind your own business?’
‘I thought it was my business, Buck, to protect that girl.’ She stiffened. ‘I know now it was merely jealousy on my part.’
The countess blushed, not surprising him. She should be embarrassed,
haranguing him about his roguish and devilish ways and how any woman who loved him was squandering her life.
It was her sudden admission of jealousy, her lovely gray eyes warm and misty, her soft hair smelling of lavender, her words repentant and honest that finally calmed him down.
‘Tell me what happened after you left my cabin, Fiona,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘It may help me find her.’
The countess hesitated, then poured them both a cup of tea. She sipped hers slowly.
‘We… we got into an argument and I said things to her I shouldn’t have, Buck,’ she said, her voice breaking, her tone repentant. ‘Horrible things.’ She stopped, the degrading words not coming from her lips, but Buck could guess. How it must have hurt Ava, who, for all her impetuous and willful ways was a pious, feeling girl. A girl who would take to heart such an insult as God’s truth and believe she was condemned to hell.
Especially coming from a woman like the countess.
He didn’t blame Fiona. Her father had left her much to her own resources and she existed in her own little world within a world, where everything was done according to her whim. She was a creature who was neither woman nor child, but a storybook princess whose crown had toppled, and she had no idea how to get it back.
That didn’t stop her from realizing what harm she’d done.
Fiona grabbed his arm, holding it tightly. ‘Oh, Buck, I swear I thought she was safe with you.’
‘Safe?’ He shrugged. ‘Far from it, Fiona. The girl is being held prisoner somewhere on this ship.’
‘Prisoner?’ she said, her hand going to her throat. ‘In heaven’s name, what for? Surely it’s no crime for a steerage passenger to lose her way aboard ship.’
He attempted a smile, grim as it was. ‘It’s not as simple as that. Ava O’Reilly is wanted by the constable in County Cork, Ireland for stealing a diamond bracelet.’
‘What?’ she said, visibly shaken. She sat down on the settee, her face going pale. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘I don’t either, Fiona. I’m certain she’s innocent of the theft.’
Buck repeated what Ava had told him and that he believed her story. Fiona agreed, saying whatever Ava was, she wasn’t a thief. She’d had every opportunity to steal from her, including taking her mother’s priceless diamond and ruby earrings, and she hadn’t. She’d even asked her if she could borrow two bobby pins, while some girls in service would have simply taken them when her back was turned.
Fiona heaved in a long breath then stood up. ‘What are you going to do, Buck?’
‘I’ve got to find out where they’re keeping her and convince them to let her go. Then I intend to get her off this ship disguised as your lady’s maid.’
‘What if you can’t find her?’
‘I’ve won enough money at cards on this crossing to hire the best lawyer in New York.’ He felt for the roll of British banknotes and American dollars in his pocket. Along with the money he had secured in the purser’s safe, he calculated his winnings were more than enough to get the job done. ‘Where’s Trey?’
‘We were going to do a turn on the Promenade Deck this evening, but it’s so cold tonight he’s coming here for an after-dinner drink.’ Seeing he understood her feelings of remorse, she finished with, ‘Ava’s not the only one I owe an apology to. I misjudged Trey as well.’
Buck smiled and took her hand in his. ‘Tell him I’m sending a wire to his solicitor in New York about taking Ava’s case.’
She nodded. ‘Bring her back, Buck,’ Fiona said with an urgency in her voice that startled him. Were those tears in her eyes she was blinking away? ‘And please, tell her I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said to her.’
‘I know, Fiona.’
‘One more thing, Buck,’ she said in a clear voice as he headed for the door. He could see she had donned a winning smile and regained her composure. ‘Tell her I said you two belong together.’
20
Ava sat on the lower berth under the harsh light overheard, sipping warm tea. She continued nursing her sick stomach and thinking about the whole bloody mess she was in. Locked up like a disbeliever, her unhappy soul on its way to perdition.
And her with no way of getting word to Buck or the countess. She was no closer to escape, her fingers moving along the black beads nonstop.
Nothing worked.
Not her banging on the door.
Then pleading with the guard to let her out. Not a peep out of him. She was doomed to wither away like a holy wafer left unblessed by the priest.
With that sad thought, the light overhead turned a dusky golden as if the light in her heart also dimmed.
If only she could break away from her captors.
How will you do that, girl? Fly like an angel? If it’s wings you want, you should have thought of that before you let him kiss you.
Still, how lovely it had been, her living like a proper aristocrat in first class. Wait until she told her tale to Mary Dolores. She could see the two of them, munching on sweet biscuits in her tiny cell while she regaled her sister with stories about the countess and her beautiful clothes and the fancy chinaware. The mysterious Turkish baths, the lively ragtime tunes the orchestra played and the Grand Staircase more elegant than any she’d seen in a great house.
She missed Buck terribly.
Her unrest and impatient thoughts wouldn’t stop, keeping her awake. A heady excitement raced through her when she thought about Buck pulling up her chemise and branding her with his searing touch.
Her breath quickened when she heard footsteps outside her cabin door.
She held her breath, listening.
Had the ship’s officer come back to ask her more questions? No, what she heard was—
Women’s voices.
Laughing, coughing and whispering.
She put her ear against the cabin door.
‘Look, lassies, there’s no guard,’ she could hear a female voice say in a loud whisper. ‘Do you think the girl is still in there?’
‘Heavens, she is. Someone padlocked the door and left the key in it.’
The key. Ava nearly danced a jig. The seaman assigned to watch her must have forgotten to take it when he left his post.
‘Help me,’ Ava cried out, banging on the door. ‘Unlock the door, please.’
‘Oh, will you listen to the poor dear?’ said a gruff female voice, its huskiness sending a familiar chill through her.
Ava cringed. Oh, no, not her. The girl from Queenstown.
‘She wants out, does she?’
‘Why don’t we help her, Hannah? She’s Irish, ain’t she?’
‘Peggy’s right,’ said another girl. ‘What’s the lass ever done to you?’
‘Well, I don’t know if we should…’ stalled Hannah.
‘Help me, please!’ Ava yelled. ‘Get me out of here.’
‘And have the steamship company after me for helping the likes of you?’ Hannah said, grunting. ‘It’s a wonder you don’t ask me to pray to the Divine to save your arse.’
Ava was desperate, she had to do something, even if it seemed impossible.
‘Get word to Captain Lord Blackthorn,’ she said. ‘Tell him I’m being kept a prisoner in here.’
‘Listen to her!’ Hannah said, her voice all flirty-like. ‘His lordship, is it? Next you’ll want him to send a fancy valet to fetch you so he don’t have to muddy his boots with the likes of us.’
Ava could hear the girl leaning against the door, her wide girth no doubt warming the wood and her lack of personal daintiness smelling up the narrow passageway.
She couldn’t be choosy. These women were her last hope.
‘Captain Lord Blackthorn is a good man. He’ll come for me if you can get a message to him.’ Ava paused, then said, ‘He’s a generous man. He’ll pay you—’
‘Pay me, will he?’
Ava could hear her make a huffing sound.
‘I’ll not sin against the Lord by releasing you to a man who buys a woman for his
own pleasure,’ the girl continued with a grunt. ‘And you so quick with the raising of your petticoats. I’ll not forget how you acted like you was better than us.’
‘I’ll not forget the unholy name you called me,’ Ava said, her ire up. ‘Rolling off your tongue like melted butter.’ She kicked her foot against the door.
‘I’ll say it again,’ said Hannah. ‘You harlot!’
Ava nearly ripped apart the rosary gripped in her hand, so angry she was. ‘You – you bitch!’
Screeching and spewing words of damnation, the girl let her have it.
Ava sank to the floor, dropping her black beads. Now she’d done it. No amount of prayer would save her. They’d never help her, never. But she couldn’t let the girl get away with her ugly talk. She couldn’t.
‘Enjoy the rest of the crossing, dearie. Alone,’ she heard the girl say, crowing. ‘I’ll take the key with me as a souvenir of the grand ship Titanic.’
Ava heard her loud laughter and the other girls’ unhappy protests, and then a male voice telling the girl he would take the key and for them to move along. The bedroom steward making his rounds, no doubt. She’d not get any help from him either.
The sounds died down soon after. Then quiet.
Except for the pulsating of the ship’s engines.
Hot tears veiled her eyes and they burned something awful. In the whole of her life Ava had never felt more alone.
She wiped her face, picked up her black rosary, then huddled in the corner of the bunk with only her wounded pride and lost hope for company.
Clawing at the thin blanket, Ava tore it to shreds in a wild fury, but that did nothing to calm her heart. A greater fear ripped through her.
What grand plans did the Almighty have in store for her to make her pay for her sins?
21
Buck walked at a fast clip up to the wireless operating office on the Boat Deck. He pulled up the collar on his heavy overcoat. The wind had picked up, sending icy chills through him.
He paid no attention to his teeth chattering and his knuckles reddening from the crisp wind as he made his way through a tight passageway until he came to a cell-like room.
