Neither will I.
Minutes later, after looking over the second bedroom and finding the suite to their liking, Jacquie’s trunk arrived. Mama put Iris to work at unpacking Jacquie’s new dresses—the ones only Tessa would wear—and hanging them in the wardrobe.
“Let’s take a walk about the deck.” Mama reached for Jacquie’s arm.
“Of course.” Jacquie’s heart grew heavy as she pondered the fact that this could very well be the last conversation she would have with her mother for quite some time. They made their way outside to the Boat Deck, and Mama slipped her arm through Jacquie’s as they strolled through the ever-growing crowd of passengers.
“It seems as if the whole world is represented on this one ship,” Mother said as she looked about. “I’ve never seen such a collection of people.”
“I daresay it will be quite the adventure,” Jacquie agreed.
“You deserve the best sort of adventure, my dear.” Mother’s eyes misted over, and she pulled Jacquie into her arms. “Oh, how I’m going to miss you, sweet girl. I dread parting ways with you.”
A lump rose in Jacquie’s throat. “As do I.”
“I didn’t want to say our good-byes in front of Iris,” Mother whispered in Jacquie’s ear. “I feel bad enough for involving her in all this. That’s why I suggested we come outside.”
“Mother, Iris is thrilled to be off on such an adventure. And I also believe she’s hoping to learn more about women’s fashion while onboard.” Jacquie chuckled. “I’ve seen her sketching gowns on paper for weeks now. So don’t feel too badly for her. This is the ideal setting for her to capture more of them on the page.”
“Still…” Mother shook her head. “She is doing us the best of favors, is she not?”
“Yes. She is.” More than you know.
“You’re worth it all, darling girl.” Mother dabbed at her eyes. “I’d made up my mind not to cry, so a fast good-bye is in order. Besides, the sooner I leave, the sooner I can meet Minerva at the hotel.”
“You’re staying at the Grand Harbour tonight before leaving for Paris in the morning?” Jacquie asked.
“Yes. We will be on the first train out of London tomorrow morning.” Mama stifled a yawn. “Which means we will have to rise before the sun. I’m afraid I haven’t slept much. All this deception and intrigue has me awake at night. And I daresay tonight won’t be much better. I’ll probably toss and turn for hours, worrying about how this will end.”
“Don’t worry, Mother. I’m sure it will all end well.” Jacquie paused. “Though, I will miss you terribly.”
“And I, you.” Mother paused and slipped her arm around Jacquie’s waist, drawing her close. “What will I do without my darling girl to keep me company?” Tears now coursed down her cheeks. “There will be no one to pacify this lonely old heart of mine.”
“It’s not as if I’m going away forever.” Jacquie spoke the words, hoping they were true. When Mother realized she hadn’t sailed aboard the Titanic for New York, she might very well see to it that Jacquie never set foot in Abingdon Manor again.
Jacquie felt the sting of tears as her mother swept her into her arms for a final hug. “Oh, my precious girl. Do be happy.”
“I—I will.”
“Find love. Find joy. Settle well, but not necessarily for money.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, a bit of money wouldn’t hurt, of course.” Mother giggled. “No doubt your grandmother already has three or four potential beaux lined up for you. Her latest telegraph implied as much.”
“I will follow my heart, Mother.” Jacquie’s thoughts filled with images of Peter. He might not have much in the way of worldly things, but he offered her something Roland Palmer, with all of his wealth, could not—a heart filled with the kind of love that could sustain them for years to come. Who needed fancy automobiles and fine clothes? What would be the point of having all those things but no one to love you—to really, truly love you as Peter loved her? No, she would gladly trade it all.
A renewed confidence filled Jacquie as she wrapped her arms around Mama’s neck and gave her a kiss on the cheek. As soon as her mother left the ship, Jacquie’s plans would move forward. She would meet Tessa at the gate and trade places. Until then, she would have a stroll about the ship so that she would always have a memory of the time she almost sailed aboard the Titanic to America.
Nathan boarded the massive ship amid a horde of other first-class passengers. With Mother on one side and James Carson on the other, they pressed their way through the crowd, encompassed about on every side by strangers speaking a multiplicity of languages.
James elbowed him and pointed up at the looming ship with its expansive smokestacks and multiple decks. “Those arrogant British are at it again. Always out to prove they can show up every other dog in the hunt.”
“Well, you must admit, they’ve done an admirable job this time.” Nathan took in his surroundings and let out a whistle. “She’s something else, isn’t she?” He had traveled aboard fine liners before, of course, but nothing like this. Titanic loomed above everything else nearby, making both the people and the buildings seem microscopic in comparison.
As he glanced about, Nathan’s gaze fell on a familiar young woman in a blue dress with a plumed hat. The girl from the opera house. The shy fiancée of the amiable fellow from New York. She stood next to her teary-eyed mother, who appeared to be distraught, for some reason. The girl looked Nathan’s way but didn’t seem to notice him. At first. Soon enough, their eyes met. Hers widened and she slipped out of her mother’s arms and ducked through the crowd, disappearing from view.
Poor thing. She must really be shy. Yes, she’d responded the same way at the opera, as well, hadn’t she? Still, there was something about those pensive blue eyes—the color of the sea—that drew him in. If only he’d gotten her name. He could have called out to her. Maybe she would have stopped for a conversation. However, he couldn’t imagine why she would board the ship. Her fiancé had made it clear he would not be traveling aboard the Titanic. Had they ended their engagement, perhaps? The very idea aroused his curiosity.
Stop it, Nathan. She’s another man’s fiancée.
He shook off his ponderings, the phantom girl now long gone.
“Yes, she’s really something.” James’s voice rang out from behind him, and Nathan winced. If only he didn’t have to put up with the intrusive fellow for the next five days. “I can see why you’re smitten, Nathan. But remember, buddy boy, she’s already got a ring on her finger.”
Actually, he hadn’t noticed a ring the night of the opera. But that didn’t change the fact that she was another man’s intended. Nathan needed to shake off the spell cast by those blue eyes and move on. Maybe he would see her in the dining saloon. They could talk about the opera. Or maybe he would keep his distance so that his heart wouldn’t become entangled. Yes, keeping his distance would be best. After all, he had other things to think about—not the least of which was his new position at Father’s insurance firm.
Suddenly, Nathan could hardly wait to get home.
Chapter Ten
Wednesday Morning, April 10, 1912
Southampton, England, near the White Star Line Dock
Tessa felt as if she might very well suffocate in the cab as they inched their way toward the White Star Line Dock. She could hardly catch her breath. Every few moments she felt as if she might faint. Then again, the corset threatened to squeeze the goodness out of her. Not that she had been able to fasten the laces as tightly as she ought without Iris’s help, but the irritating thing still vexed her.
“Are you all right?” Peter glanced her way, and she reached for his hand.
“I am, for now.”
His boyish smile caught her off guard. “Tessa, in case I haven’t said it already, you look lovely.”
“Th–thank you.” Warmth and appreciation flooded over her.
Peter gave her a penetrating gaze. “Mum would be beside herself if she saw you looking like this, though I�
��m not altogether sure she would recognize you.”
Tessa’s heart twisted as she thought about her mother living in that broken-down cottage and dealing with Pa alone. For a moment, she thought about asking the cab driver to turn back. Just as quickly, she forced her thoughts ahead to her new life.
“Have I really changed that much?” she asked.
“Yes, but it suits you,” Peter said, gesturing to her dress. “And I believe the lifestyle will too.”
A quick glance down at the blue-and-cream gown lifted her spirits at once. This must surely be what the royals felt like, gilded and pranced about for show. To wear such finery seemed a bit silly, and yet she could not deny the way the embellished gown made her feel. Truly, it elevated her spirits and bolstered her courage. For a moment, she almost saw herself as a fine lady ready to board the Titanic, happy to cruise to lands yet unknown. An adventure of the highest magnitude.
Indeed, one could call her current situation an adventure, in and of itself. Outside the window, a multitude of people surrounded the vehicle, all walking the same direction, toward the White Star Line Dock. They bustled about in costumes of all sorts—many in typical British garb, but many in unusual attire coupled with decorative colors and styles. She found the whole scene rather intriguing.
“What a remarkable day we live in.” Peter pointed to an electric trolley. “Look at that, will you?” He let out a whistle. “Ever seen anything like it?”
She fought the temptation to roll her eyes. “Peter, I’d never even been out of Gloucestershire County until two weeks ago. You know that. This is all foreign and strange to me.” And yet wildly exciting. In a terrifying sort of way. Whether or not she could plant herself in the midst of such people and grow as a flower in a garden, she could not say. Still, she would give it all that she had.
Peter’s eyes sparkled as he looked her way. “Think of this as a production upon the stage. You are the starring player. You just have to stick to the script.” He jabbed her with his elbow. “You’ve always been quite good at playacting, if I recall.” A tiny wink followed.
“True.” She released a slow breath, determined to stay calm. “I will do my best.”
Her gaze shifted out of the window of the cab as it wound its way through the mob near the dock. She’d never seen such an mix of people before—young, old, rich, poor. She even caught a glimpse of a boy, maybe ten or so, picking the pocket of an older fellow in a fancy suit. A better person would have put down her window and called for the police, but right now the last thing Tessa wanted was to draw attention to herself. If she could just get through the next five days at sea, maybe the churning in her stomach would cease. She hoped so, anyway.
Still the madness in the streets caused the strangest sensation to rise up inside of her. She focused on a woman in a tattered dress not unlike the one Tessa wore on the day she tousled with Countess in the stall. The pained expression on the young woman’s face was evident as she said her good-byes to a young man in a White Star Line uniform. A lump rose in Tessa’s throat as she thought about leaving Peter—possibly for good.
Her gaze shifted back to the pickpocket, his victim now chasing him through the crowd to fetch his missing wallet. Something about all of this seemed strangely exciting, like a grand theatrical, playing out on a stage far more real than any a theater could boast.
Off in the distance, a group of women not much older than herself marched along in militant fashion, holding signs. Tessa strained to read the words: VOTES FOR WOMEN. Truly? They wanted to vote? Why? Didn’t life offer enough complications without involving politics? If she could vote for anything right now, it would be for the right to live a pleasant, comfortable life, one with Peter in it. Her eyes stung with tears, which she brushed away.
“Blasted suffragettes.” The cab driver hurled an insult through his open window as the women passed by in front of the cab. One of them turned and narrowed her gaze.
“Frightening, that one.” The cab driver chuckled as he pointed to the lady with the sour expression. “Looks as if she wants to do me harm.”
“She might start swinging her sign and take us all down.” Peter laughed and teased the woman with a boyish wave. “But who can blame these rowdy gals? They know enough to take advantage of a crowd. This is a fine platform for their demonstration, what with so many ladies about.”
“And men too.” The hairs on Tessa’s arms stood up as she saw a group of intoxicated fellows bumbling their way down the street in a pack, their merry voices raised in off-key song. Hopefully they would move on, away from the ship. Still, the idea of traveling alone, without her brother to protect her, brought a wave of fear.
Peter’s eyes filled with concern. “Yes, well, let’s not focus on the men. In fact, I would prefer you keep your distance from them on this trip, if you please.”
“Oh, I will, I promise.” No doubt she would stay as far away as possible, likely hiding out in her suite until they arrived in New York. Oh, but when she saw the people, when she heard the strains of music rising up from the drum corps in the distance, she almost imagined it possible to merge into this world, to play her role with finesse and ease. Almost.
“Look around you, Peter,” Tessa said after a moment’s pause. “What do you see?”
He turned toward the window and shrugged. “I see motor-buses. Trolleys. Delivery wagons. Bicycles. And people as thick as thieves. I hope the crowd will thin so we can make it to the dock.”
“I will get you there, sir,” the cab driver said, a lilt in his voice. “Sooner or later.”
“What else do you see?” Tessa pressed him to envision it all through her eyes.
Her brother shrugged. “Horses? Mounted policemen? Automobiles? Carriages?” He leaned a bit closer to the window. “I see a double-decker horse-drawn carriage with a scrolling stairway bearing a sign about Nestlé’s chocolate. Makes me wish I had some.” He smacked his lips.
“Would you like to know what I see?” Tessa asked, her thoughts on something far different.
“No doubt you will tell me even if I do not respond, so go ahead.”
“Fine.” She swallowed the lump in her throat to share. “I see people dwelling in poverty. I see families not unlike our own living in unsanitary conditions. I see immigrants and tradesmen, beggars and entrepreneurs. I see people of a variety of ethnicities. I see industries, large and small, vying for the pocketbooks of those walking by. I see pickpockets and suffragettes, ladies in traveling suits, and gentlemen smoking cigars. I see their valets and chambermaids, trimmed out and ready for service. I see spectators by the hundreds, standing along the shoreline, ready to wave their good-byes. But do you know what I see beyond it all?”
“No. But I’m intrigued.”
Tessa found herself energized by the sudden burst of confidence that swept over her as she spoke her thoughts aloud. “I see hope—on every face. It’s etched into the brow of the young women boarding the ship. It’s evident in the square-shouldered stance of the young man who’s worked all year to afford his third-class passage. It’s bolstering the courage of the elderly widow who is setting off to live with her daughter in a strange, new land.”
Indeed, she saw beyond the high lace collars and corseted waists. She looked deeper than the traveling clothes and the frilly hats. What mattered was the person, not the attire. And every person in view had his or her own story to tell, just as she did.
Peter’s brows elevated, and he glanced out the window. “You can see all of their faces from here?”
“A few. They are hopeful that life in America will change their situation for the better.” A hesitant sigh followed. “And I am among them. I’m so grateful, Peter. Truly, I am. You’ve offered me a new life. How can I begin to thank you for that?”
“You don’t have to.” Peter gripped her hand and gazed with such intensity into her eyes that she felt the sting of tears. “I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I am to hear you say this. I’m overjoyed, in fact. For the first time, yo
u truly sound hopeful about your trip, and that brings me a sense of peace. I could not live with myself if I knew that you were unhappy, Tessa. I see this as the best possible way to get you away from Father.” His gaze penetrated her heart, nearly ripping it to shreds. “You do see now why I would go to such lengths, don’t you? I want to protect you.”
“And I’m very grateful.” A pain in her ribs reminded her of the corset, and she squirmed, trying to get comfortable. “Some things will take more getting used to than others, but I want you to know that I’m ready for a change.”
“I’m so glad,” he said. “No doubt life in America will be everything we’ve read about in books and newspapers, filled with opportunities for new beginnings.”
“Yes.” Her imagination almost ran away with her as she tried to evision it all. Just as quickly, she thought about Jacquie’s grandmother—the one who would be waiting in New York—and a shiver ran down her spine. How would she get beyond the initial how-do-you-do to begin her new life? Even with Jacquie’s letter in hand, the situation would be difficult.
A rush of fear ran over her. “I do hope Jacquie remembers to leave the letter in my cabin.”
“She will. Don’t worry, Tessa. All will be well.” Peter’s words spoke of confidence, but the wrinkles between his brows said otherwise. After a moment of silence, he looked her way with a smile. “You must promise to write the minute you arrive in New York. Send your correspondence to Jacquie at the Willingham Hotel in Southampton. She will stay there for the time being.”
“I will. And you promise me that somehow, someway, we will see each other again.”
“We will.” He slipped his arm over her shoulders and pressed a kiss into her hair, which only caused her to tear up all over again. “I will come in time, if only for a visit. Or I will bring you back when you’ve had your fill of your new life.” He chuckled and withdrew his arm. “Though I daresay you will probably settle in nicely and forget all about us.”
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