Queen of the Waves

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Queen of the Waves Page 5

by Janice Thompson


  “But what has this to do with me?” Tessa ran her dirty palms over her skirt again, more confused than ever.

  Jacquie’s voice grew more passionate with each word, which she spoke above the noise coming from the animals. “I do not wish to go to New York. Not now, not ever. I want to stay here, with Peter.”

  “I see.” Only, she didn’t. Not really.

  Jacquie took Tessa’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ve come up with a plan that should change all of our lives for the better. I want to offer you the opportunity to escape from your life here, Tessa.”

  “To escape?”

  “Yes.” Peter drew near and slipped an arm over Tessa’s shoulders. “I know how it is with Father. He’s cruel and he—”

  Tessa put her hand up as tears sprang to her eyes. “Say no more.”

  “He does not treat you well.” Peter’s arms tightened around her in protective measure. “But there is a solution, Tessa. One where you can leave his evil ways behind and move forward with your life.”

  “You’re making no sense, Peter.” Tessa plopped back down onto the bale of hay, her thoughts in a whirl. Truly, the yelps from the piglets made more sense than the peculiar conversation with these two lovebirds.

  “I want you to take my place aboard the Titanic.” Jacquie’s words were whispered, but they might as well have been shouted in Tessa’s ear, they took her by such force.

  “W–what?” A wave of nausea passed over Tessa, followed by a dizzy spell.

  “Yes, don’t you see? As soon as Mama gets me settled in my room aboard the ship, we will trade places—trade lives, as it were—and you can sail to New York in my place. You will take my boarding pass, my clothing, my…life. All of that I will gladly trade for the pure joy of marrying your brother and spending my days as his wife, here in England.” She batted her eyelashes in Peter’s direction, and he responded with a smile, though it looked a bit strained.

  Still, Tessa couldn’t make sense of this. Was the girl daft? Had years of wearing tight corsets squeezed the common sense out of her?

  “It’s the perfect solution.” Peter turned to Tessa, pleading with his eyes. “Don’t you agree? Jacquie does not care to leave, and you…well, you need to leave. I will feel better knowing you’re safely away from here.” His gaze shifted to the house and then back to her.

  “I do not agree.” Tessa rose and marched across the barn. “You’ve both spent too much time consuming rich foods, I fear. It has affected your reasoning. Do you really think, for one moment, that I could possibly play the role of a—a—” She pointed to Jacquie, not wanting to be rude.

  “A society girl?” Jacquie offered a confident smile. “Yes, I do believe it possible. You’re the right size for my dresses, the perfect hair color, everything.”

  “Not everything.” Tessa folded her hands over her chest and glared at her brother’s beau, taking in the wealth of dark hair and perfectly arched brows. Her gaze traveled to the narrow, fitted waist on the beautifully trimmed-out dress and finally landed on the pristine shoes with their pointed toes. Her feet ached just thinking about them.

  Jacquie cleared her throat, which brought Tessa back to her senses. Resolved to put an end to this ridiculous conversation, she looked her way and spoke with fervor. “I can wear the dress, but I cannot wear the life. I do not speak like you or walk like you or put on prissy airs like—” She stopped herself.

  “I will teach you all of that.” Jacquie gripped her hand with such force that Tessa felt it might break. “We have two weeks to accomplish it. I feel sure it can be done.”

  “And in two weeks, you think I can learn to be a proper English lady?” Tessa snorted and ran her rough palms across her dirty skirt. “If so, then you truly don’t know me. I am far more at home here, in the stalls, with a swine who thinks she’s a countess, than rubbing shoulders with the real thing.”

  Jacquie’s eyes pooled. “You want to leave this place. That much I do know. From what Peter has shared, your life is very difficult. What you’ve had to endure is beyond comprehension.”

  Tessa trembled and glared at her brother. How dare he share her personal stories with this stranger?

  “You, of all people, deserve a fresh start,” Jacquie said. “And I hope to offer you that. Please consider this, Tessa. It will be my gift to you. And yours to me, of course.”

  “Consider it, Tessa.” Peter’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Please.” Something about the tone of his voice gave her reason to actually do so.

  The erratic thumping of Tessa’s heart nearly knocked the breath out of her. She rose and paced the barn before turning toward her brother, doing her best to suppress the anger threatening to erupt.

  “What will you tell Pa when I turn up missing? He will be furious. You know how he depends on me to work the farm. I’m the only one left, you know.” Her comment was meant as an accusation, and from the pained expression on her brother’s face, the words hit their intended mark. Just as quickly, his wrinkled brow softened.

  “We’ve the perfect solution for that,” Peter said. “We will tell him that you have been offered a lucrative position as a companion to Jacquie’s grandmother in New York.”

  “A companion?” For a moment, the idea held some appeal. A kind, elderly woman with soft, wrinkled skin would make the perfect friend, one who wouldn’t grind her knees against the stony pavement or curse at her when things didn’t go as planned.

  “Yes, don’t you see?” Jacquie’s smile seemed convincing enough. “And I have no doubt you will make a perfect companion to her. She will need you once all is revealed.”

  “You don’t suppose she will send me packing the moment I arrive?” Tessa’s ire rose. “Then I’ll be living on the streets in New York. How is that any better than my situation here? At least here I have a bed to sleep in and a roof over my head.”

  “She will not turn you out.” Jacquie’s gaze narrowed. “I will send a letter with you, one meant to sway her. Grandmother is a good woman, prone to kindness. She will, I’m sure, take you in as her own granddaughter. But let’s don’t fret over that part just yet. One thing at a time.”

  “But…” Tessa started to say more but caught a glimpse of Mum headed up the lane toward the cottage with Pa—who was tripping over his own shadow but following closely behind.

  The pair disappeared into the cottage and Peter glanced Tessa’s way, his eyes pleading. “Will you do it, Tessa? I will understand if you say no, but if you agree to this, you will change all our lives for the better. You will not be sorry.”

  Oh, how she wished he could turn his words into a promise. If she could, she wouldn’t think twice. She would board the Titanic as a well-to-do china doll and pray that nothing happened to cause that doll to break between England and America.

  Tessa glanced once again at the little silk bird on Jacquie’s elaborate hat and prayed for the courage to take flight.

  Jacquie’s breath caught in her throat as she walked with Peter and Tessa toward the broken-down cottage with its crumbling exterior and sagging porch railing. As they stepped inside, the stench of rotting food accosted her, coupled with the sight of dirty dishes in the sink.

  A woman in a tattered gray dress approached, her eyes welling with tears as she saw Peter. “My boy.” She opened her arms to him and he raced to give her a warm embrace.

  “Mother.” He pressed a tender kiss onto her wrinkled cheek.

  “And who have you brought with you?” His mother’s expression shifted to Jacquie then back to Peter as she mumbled, “You should warn a person when there’s company comin’.” Her fingers rose to rake her tangled gray hair, only making it messier still.

  “Oh, there’s no need to do anything special on my behalf.” Jacquie extended her hand. “I’m Jacquie Abingdon, Mrs. Bowen, and I’ve come to ask a favor.”

  “A favor?”

  Peter’s eyes sparked with a hint of what she could only perceive as fear. “Where’s Pa? This will involve him, as well, for it’s
about Tessa.”

  “What about Tessa?” A man in torn slacks with unfastened suspenders over a graying shirt entered the room. His bleary eyes told the tale of too much whiskey. Or gin. And the slurred speech confirmed it, as did the horrendous odor emanating from his every pore. Surely this couldn’t be Peter’s father. To imagine this man raising Peter—her beautiful, perfect Peter—seemed impossible.

  At once the fellow lit into a rant about Tessa’s laziness, and the young woman flinched as if expecting the back of his hand to come down on her.

  “Pa, Mum…” Peter hesitated. “Jacquie here has come with a proposition.”

  “One that I hope will benefit us all.” She broadened her smile and did her best to appear confident.

  “Well, then, I will give a listen.” Mr. Bowen dropped into a half-broken chair at the table and leaned back, folding his arms at his chest. “Spit it out, girl. I don’t have all day.”

  He gestured for his wife to bring him a plate of food, which bought Jacquie a few seconds to think through her explanation. “My grandmother in New York isn’t well, you see,” she said at last. “She hasn’t been for some time.” That much was true. The last Jacquie had heard, Granny’s rheumatism was giving her fits.

  “What has this to do with us?” Mr. Bowen reached for his bowl of stew and slopped a spoonful into his mouth, speaking around it. “You want I should feed and tend to her as well as my own family?” A bit of mashed carrot fell out of his mouth and he brushed it away. “If so, you’ve come barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

  “Oh, no, sir. Nothing of the sort. I have been seeking to hire a young woman capable of tending to my grandmother’s needs.”

  “W–what ’r’ you askin’?” Mrs. Bowen wrung the dishcloth in her hands.

  “I’ve been telling her about Tessa, Mum,” Peter said. “And we both agree that she would make a perfect candidate. Remember what a good job she did with caring for Grand, before she passed? And she was a valuable asset to old Mrs. Johnston, as well.”

  “But…New York?” Mrs. Bowen did not look pleased by this proposition.

  “Can’t run the farm without her.” Mr. Bowen shoveled more food down.

  “But, Pa.” Tessa took a couple of steps in her father’s direction. “I would really like to—”

  “No, girl.” He looked up from his stew, the sternness in his eyes setting every hair on edge. “Your laziness won’t be rewarded with a trip across the ocean.”

  “That’s a shame.” Jacquie put on her most businesslike voice. “For the job pays quite well. My father is known for his generosity in such matters.” She didn’t have to lie about this. Most who knew Father considered him a philanthropist as well as an entrepreneur. Not that he planned to pay anyone to serve as companion, but Peter’s father need not know where the money was coming from.

  At this, Mr. Bowen set down his spoon and gazed at her with some intensity. “That so?”

  “Oh, indeed.” Jacquie swept a loose hair from her face and tried to appear unwavering. “Not that Tessa would require money to live on. My grandmother’s estate in New York is lovely, and her every need would be met. She would want for nothing.”

  “The idea of Tessa livin’ like a queen holds no appeal.” Mr. Bowen grunted and turned back to his food. “She’s done nothing to deserve such reward, and I won’t see her livin’ in the lap o’ luxury while the rest of us sit in squalor.”

  “This isn’t about Tessa, Pa.” Peter took a seat across from him. “We’ve been thinking of you and Mum.”

  “Oh?” Mr. Bowen seemed to perk up at this news.

  “Tessa could send most of the money back home for the running of the farm. You could hire out the help. Get someone strong and capable.” Peter turned to face Tessa and grinned. “Not implying that you’re not strong and capable, of course.”

  “No offense taken. Besides, you and I both know I can arm wrestle you to the ground.” A smile turned up the edges of Tessa’s lips, capturing Jacquie’s curiosity. Perhaps she had already been won over.

  “If that’s a challenge, I’m up for it.” Peter flexed his arm and showed off his muscles, which only served to bolster Jacquie’s confidence further.

  “I will have to think on this.” Mr. Bowen spoke between bites. “Not sure how I feel about it.”

  “While you’re thinking on it, please accept my father’s first payment.” Jacquie fished around in her purse, finally coming up with an envelope that contained enough money for the man to drink himself into a stupor, should he choose to do so. “He’s quite anxious to find someone quickly because the ship sails in two weeks, so time is of the essence.” Only a half lie, of course.

  “Hmm.” Mr. Bowen reached for the envelope and turned it in his hands. “Well, now. You’ve given me much to think on.”

  “While you’re thinking, I’d like for Tessa and Jacquie to get to know one another better.” Peter flashed a smile. “How would that be? Could we walk the property while you’re mulling over Jacquie’s request?”

  “I won’t stop you.” Mr. Bowen grunted before slopping down another spoonful of stew.

  As they made their way outside once again into the late afternoon sunlight, Jacquie breathed a sigh of relief. She glanced over at Peter, who gave her a woeful shrug then slipped his arm over Tessa’s shoulders.

  “How do you think that went?” Jacquie asked.

  “He will go along with it. He needs the money too desperately to turn down such an offer.”

  “Even if it means losing a daughter.” Tessa sighed and kicked the dirt with the toe of her shoe. Glancing up, Jacquie noticed the tears in her eyes. “Not that I consider him a real father, anyway. What sort of father would trade his daughter for money?”

  What sort, indeed? Jacquie’s thoughts shifted to her father’s arrangement with Roland Palmer as she slipped her arm through Tessa’s. “I think we have more in common than I realized. I do believe you’re the perfect person to take on this challenge.”

  “Perfect, I’m not.” A smirk followed on Tessa’s end. “But you have piqued my curiosity and I will go along with your scheme, should Pa agree, though it will require tutoring in every area one might imagine.”

  After several profuse thank-yous from Jacquie, Tessa turned back toward the barn to quiet the rambunctious sow. Then she cradled the piglets, gushing over them like babes.

  Peter turned to face Jacquie and reached for her hands. He gestured to the farm, his eyes narrowing. “Jacquie, I can only imagine what you must be thinking.” A pause followed. “It’s true, I’m a farmer’s son, but this is not my life. I can—and will—give you more than this.”

  Though his words felt hesitant, she accepted them as an offering of love. “I don’t need more,” she whispered as she slipped her arm around his waist and rested her head against his. “All I need—is you.”

  The words weren’t completely true, of course. She also needed the help of a certain young woman, one with a torn, muddy skirt who was currently struggling to hold onto a feisty, squealing piglet. Without Tessa’s cooperation, the whole plan would fall apart before the Titanic left port.

  Chapter Six

  Saturday Evening, March 30, 1912

  Abingdon Manor, Richmond, England

  The evening skies over London hovered in varying shades of pink and gray as the sun slipped off to the west. Tessa looked through the limousine window, her thoughts in a whirl. In less than two hours, every aspect of her life had changed. Pa had really and truly done it. He’d traded her off for a fistful of bills. Well, good riddance. She wouldn’t miss him or his rock prayers. Instead, she would step into a new life, one that had been handed to her on a costly—albeit unexpected—silver platter.

  And to think, Mum and Pa only knew the half of it. Every time she thought about boarding the Titanic to take on the persona of a society girl, a quiver of excitement ran through her. And the destination—New York! Every girl her age dreamed of such a trip, to a home across the seas. Just as quickly, her thoughts tr
ansitioned and she felt terrified. Could she really board the ship alone, without the hand of a mother or brother to guide her?

  To her right, Jacquie and Peter stole secret glances and even the squeeze of a hand. Clearly, these two had feelings for one another, though somewhat lopsided, if her instincts were correct. She could not imagine how they planned to marry. No doubt Jacquie’s father would come after Peter with a gun. Fear coursed through Tessa as this idea took root. What if Jacquie’s father came after her with a gun, as well?

  She continued to look out the window as the lush English countryside gave way to London’s more polished suburbia. Only when the limousine pulled up in front of a home the size of Buckingham Palace did her breath catch in her throat.

  “Welcome to Abingdon Manor.” Jacquie looped her arm through Tessa’s after the limousine driver helped them out of the car. “I do hope you enjoy your stay. It will be brief but highly educational.” A tiny wink followed.

  “No doubt.” Tessa looked around at the expansive estate with its lush gardens and shook her head. “How did I get here?”

  “In a Mercedes limousine, of course.” Jacquie giggled. “And the driver was kind enough to drop us off at the gate so as not to alert the servants. Follow me, if you will.” Under the shadowy haze of the twilight, she led the way beyond the front gates to the garden. Off to the west side of the beautiful rolling lawn, Tessa noticed a creek with a lovely bridge.

  “This is beautiful,” she said. “Peter, you are the grounds-keeper here?”

  “Yes.” His face beamed. “Tell me what you think of the way I’ve shaped the bushes to look like animals. I learned to do that just last spring. Clever, don’t you think?”

  “Very. They seem very lifelike.” So lifelike, in fact, that she felt sure the lion to her right let out a roar. Or was that just her heart responding to the nervous flutter in her stomach?

  “Follow me, Tessa.” Jacquie led the way down a cobblestone path far away from the main house. Tessa traipsed along, a silent partner in this crime of passion, as the path narrowed under a canopy of vines overhead. Several minutes of walking the pathway finally led to a stream and, beyond that, a vine-covered cottage, looking like something from the cover of a storybook as the setting sun cast its shadows overhead.

 

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