Queen of the Waves

by Janice Thompson

  The man shoved the camera into his left hand and gave Nathan a firm handshake with the right. “Frank Browne. Nice to meet you.” He paused and turned his attention to another little girl playing in the distance then snapped another photograph. Turning back to Nathan, he grinned. “I’m trying to get as many as I can because I won’t be onboard as long as most. I’m disembarking in Queenstown.”

  “I see. Short journey, but sweet.”

  “Precisely. But I’ve got some excellent shots already. I’ve been to the gymnasium, the dining saloon, and even caught a rather candid shot of Captain Smith.”

  “He didn’t mind?”

  “Not a bit. He’s quite an amiable fellow. Most of the passengers have been happy to oblige. They find my camera quite the novelty, I think.”

  “Perhaps one day cameras will be as common as pocket watches.”

  “Wouldn’t that be something?” Mr. Browne chuckled. “In the meantime, I will do what I can to preserve the trip in film. I count it a privilege. I never dreamed I would travel on the Titanic, but a good friend made it possible by offering me the ticket from Southampton to Queenstown. I plan to enter the ministry, you see. Perhaps I will acquire stories to share with my parishioners.”

  “No doubt. Take good notes.”

  “I shall.” The fellow paused to take another picture then looked Nathan’s way. “Have you taken a look about the ship?”

  “I plan to do that now.” A gust of wind mussed Nathan’s hair, and he did his best to tidy it with his fingers.

  “Have a stop at the barbershop,” Mr. Browne said. “You will find all sorts of souvenirs there—postcards, pennants, paperweights, and so on. Quite a few ways to spend your money.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.” Nathan rose and began the journey to the first-class barbershop, the steady hum of Titanic’s engines whirring beneath his feet. He located the barbershop on C Deck.

  Nathan paused to read the sign in the window: HOT LATHER AND SHAVE. Didn’t sound like a bad idea. This morning’s rushed exit from the hotel hadn’t left much time to tend to his appearance. He stepped inside the small room, taking note of the bench on one side and the chairs on the others. His gaze traveled to the souvenirs, which were hanging from the ceiling above. Nathan smiled as he took in the penknives, banners, dolls, and ribbons with RMS TITANIC embroidered on them.

  “Shave, sir?” a fellow in a White Star Line uniform asked.

  Nathan looked his way and smiled. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  He took his place in the chair and listened in on the conversation around him. Most of the men spoke about Titanic’s near collision with the New York. Nathan tried to put the incident out of his mind, choosing instead to focus on the beautiful girl he had just met. Hopefully she would come to dinner. Either way, the seat to his right would be reserved for her. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine how the dinner conversation would go. Maybe she would talk about sheepdogs and bushes shaped like animals. No doubt Mother would be appalled. Nathan chuckled just thinking about it.

  “I like to see you smiling.” A familiar voice rang out, startling Nathan. He opened his eyes and gazed at James Carson with a niggling suspicion running through him. Why did this fellow keep turning up?

  “Having a shave, son?” James drew near and placed his hand on Nathan’s arm.

  Please don’t call me “son.”

  Nathan managed a quiet “Yes.”

  “I believe I’ll join you.” James took the seat next to his and lit into a conversation about his stateroom. On and on he went, soon talking about the weather, the length of time it would take to reach Cherbourg, and the smooth ride. Nathan tried to close his eyes and ears to it but could not. Something about the man’s voice irritated him. Frustrated him, even.

  After a few minutes, James fell silent. Nathan took advantage of the lapse in conversation to usher up a quick prayer. Lord, forgive me. James is a kind man. He’s done nothing to hurt me. Please help me to see him as You do.

  The next few moments were spent in pleasant conversation between the two. Freshly shaved and doused with minty lotion, Nathan eventually rose from his chair. James joined him, the two men now walking together toward their cabins.

  After a moment, James paused and glanced Nathan’s way. “You know, son, I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes.” A smile turned up the edges of James’s lips. “You’ve grown into a wonderful young man.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  James’s brow furrowed. “Yes, a man I’m very proud of, in fact. I do hope you will indulge me for a moment while I make an offer that, I pray, will hold some appeal.”

  “An offer?”

  “Yes.” James paused and gave him a warm smile. “You know that I have a growing steel mill. I need an overseer for my location in New York. I thought, perhaps, that I could talk you into the position.”

  Nathan’s breath caught in his throat. “But you know I plan to work with my father when I return to New York. I felt sure you knew that.”

  “Ah.” James shrugged and shifted his gaze to the floor. “Well, I did hear something along those lines. Just wishful thinking on my part, I suppose. I could really use you at the mill and would be happy to compensate you accordingly, of course.”

  “A nice offer, Mr. Carson,” Nathan managed. “And I’m honored that you would think of me. But I’m very much looking forward to linking arms with my father. I’m sure you understand. Keeping it in the family and all that.”

  “Of course, son.” James slung his arm over Nathan’s shoulder. “Of course.”

  The two continued in light conversation until Nathan reached his stateroom. “Will we see you at dinner?”

  “Of course. I plan to take full advantage of the menu.” James rubbed his midsection and smiled. “Just one small disadvantage to sailing aboard Titanic that I see. I’ll have to have my suits let out when I get home.” He laughed and Nathan did his best to seem amused. Still, something about this whole exchange bothered him, more than he could say.

  James headed off to his stateroom, and Nathan paused for a moment to think about the offer the older man had made. Though he found it flattering, it did seem odd that James would try to press him into a position at the steel mill. Indeed, everything about the man seemed odd these days.

  After stepping inside his drawing room, Nathan found his mother seated at the desk, writing a note. She looked up with a smile. “Oh, there you are. I thought I might have to send the troops out to search for you.”

  “I’ve been on a sightseeing adventure.”

  “Ah.” She paused and laid down the note card. “I will do that later, I suppose. I needed to get some rest.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Much.” She smiled, and he could read the relief in her eyes. “Very much looking forward to dinner. I hope you don’t mind, but James will be dining with us.”

  “Yes, he just told me. We took a walk together.”

  Mother’s eyes brightened at this news. “Wonderful. So glad you agree.”

  Nathan paced the room and tried to work up the courage to broach a delicate subject. He finally turned to look at his mother’s reflection in the mirror. “Can I ask a question?”

  “Well, of course.” She swiveled around to face him. “What is it?”

  His stomach churned as the words were spoken. “Mother, did you ask James to give me a job?”

  “Hmm?” She turned, her cheeks growing red. “What?”

  “He offered me a job. Just now.”

  Mother’s eyes sparkled. “Really? At his steel mill? Oh, I do hope you will take it, Nathan. He would be such a wonderful mentor for you, and the steel industry is growing, you know. Why, you could earn a fortune in no time.”

  “I plan to work with Father when we get back home. You know that. You both know that.” He paused and shook his head, convinced that she had arranged the offer. “Mother, please tell me you did not put James up
to that.”

  She paused. “I confess, we have discussed the issue on occasion, though I can assure you the offer was all his. James cares deeply for you, Nathan, and he sees something in you besides a desk job in a boring office.” She rose and wrung her hands as she paced the room. “Would it really be so awful to take the position and forget the insurance business?”

  “But why? Why would I do such a thing? All of my life, Father has been grooming me to work alongside him. He’s proud of me. And I’m honored to join him.”

  Mother paled. “I understand, son. I do. But life has so much to offer. Why settle?”

  “Settle?” He could hardly imagine her saying such a thing.

  “Yes, son. When one settles, one regrets it, often for the rest of his—or her—life.” She turned back around to face the window. Nathan couldn’t help but notice the trembling in her hands as she reached for the note card. Something about all of this felt wrong, but he didn’t know why. Whatever regrets she referred to were surely not his.

  Perhaps, after a short nap, dinner would make all things right again. He hoped so, anyway. And with a certain young lady seated at his side, the conversation was sure to be delightful.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wednesday, April 10, 1912, Midafternoon

  Cabin B-54

  From the moment she entered Cabin B-54, Tessa struggled with a headache. Less than an hour before the dinner bugle blew, she finally called for the steward, who brought headache powders courtesy of the ship’s doctor.

  When the nagging pain dulled, Tessa decided that food would probably help rather than hurt. Whether she wanted to do so or not, she should go to the first-class dining saloon. She couldn’t imagine making a good impression on the people in first class but would give it a try. No doubt her dinner partners would find her efforts fascinating. At least one of them would.

  A rush of warmth moved over her as she remembered the young man she’d met on the Boat Deck. Nathan Patterson. Yes, Nathan would likely find her entertaining, should she decide to take the seat next to his at dinner. Then again, she’d already given him plenty of fodder, hadn’t she? Dropping to her knees and playing with a dog…in public? Talking about her brother, the gardener, who shaped bushes into animals?

  Tessa squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the embarrassing memories. Oh well. Perhaps he wouldn’t think less of her. Probably just thought she was new money.

  I guess I am new money.

  The giggle that followed lifted her spirits for a moment and put things in perspective.

  The grinding of brakes could be felt below her feet, and minutes later Titanic slowed to a halt. Tessa walked to the window and peered outside, realizing they must have arrived at Cherbourg. Soon the bugler would signal the dinner hour. She didn’t have much time to prepare for dinner.

  Knowing that she could not dress alone, Tessa went in search of Iris. As much as she hated to admit it, Tessa really needed her suitemate—not just to tie her laces and button her blouses, but for company as well. Hopefully Iris would come around in time.

  The other woman’s icy reception did little to encourage Tessa’s thoughts on the matter, but she managed to make small talk as she dressed. They started with the necessary undergarments and then moved to the irksome corset, which squeezed the life out of her. Afterward, Tessa chose a green satin gown, surely the finest of the lot. She thought about Jacquie’s admonition to make a good first impression.

  Without speaking a word, Iris fussed her way through the layers of tulle in the underskirt and managed to open the dress for Tessa to step inside. She slipped her arms into the capped sleeves and gazed at her reflection in the mirror as Iris did up the buttons in the back. The gown fitted to her body as if it had been made for her, the deep green color perfect for her eyes. The luscious skirt fanned out behind her, an ocean of satin and silk.

  Her favorite part, however, was the delicate silk overlay that cascaded like a banner from her left shoulder down to the right side of her waistline. The iridescent fabric hung in shimmering softness, accentuating the beading at the squared neckline and then drawing the eye down to her waist, which appeared smaller than ever with the corset pinching the life out of her underneath it all. No one at dinner would be any the wiser, though some might wonder why she couldn’t squeeze down a bite of food. How could she, with her stomach so pressed in? No wonder society girls were always so slim. They had no room for even the smallest morsel.

  Tessa reached inside a little cloth bag on the dressing table and came out with a necklace, a lovely strand of emerald-encrusted silver rosettes. After securing it, she reached for the delicate ivory slippers, the ones with the eyelet design. She eased her way onto the chair in front of the dressing table and slipped the shoes onto her feet, relishing the way they made her feel.

  “Will you be wearing the green hat or the burgundy?” Iris asked.

  “Burgundy?” Tessa had never considered wearing a hat of a different color. Surely a green dress called for a green hat, right?

  “You don’t know anything about fashion, do you?” Iris rolled her eyes then lifted both hats at once, showing them to Tessa. “So, which will it be?”

  “I will lean on your expertise,” Tessa said after a moment’s reflection. Surely Iris would see this as a gesture of kindness and support.

  Iris placed the green hat on the settee and went to work, pinning the burgundy one onto Tessa’s upswept hair. “You will draw the eye up and away from the neckline with this one. Speaking of the neckline, did you also want to wear the fox stole this evening, or do you prefer to save that for another night?”

  Tessa shivered. “I can’t even imagine wearing an animal draped about my neck.” She thought of Maggie and felt the sting of tears. “Seems so…inhumane.”

  “Inhumane?” Iris let out an unladylike snort. “Left to his own devices, the cunning fox would surely eat you for lunch. So why not wear him to dinner instead?”

  “Ah. Well, when you put it like that.” Tessa watched as Iris reached for the odd-looking stole and slid it over her shoulders. She petted the little fox and decided to give him a name—Freddy. Perfect. He would keep her company and offer the perfect distraction in the dining saloon.

  “There now.” Iris stepped back and glanced at her. “As much as I hate to admit it, you look the part. Now all you have to do is act it. Think you can remember what you’ve been taught?”

  “I—I hope so.” She couldn’t honestly say. “I plan to tell everyone that I have a sore throat. Hopefully they won’t expect me to speak. Much, anyway.”

  “Yes, just keep your lips closed and all will be well.” Iris’s words were tinged with sarcasm, but Tessa did her best not to let them create offense. After all, Iris was right. The less she opened her mouth, the less opportunity to play the fool. Publicly, anyway. She gave herself a quick glance in the looking-glass, feeling once again like Alice, tumbling into Wonderland. Hopefully there would be no Mad Hatters at tonight’s tea party. One could hope, anyway.

  Wednesday, April 10, 1912, Early Evening

  Outside the First-Class Dining Saloon

  Twilight slipped off into the darkness of evening just as tenders ferried more passengers onboard Titanic in Cherbourg, off the coast of France. Nathan arrived at the reception room for appetizers just as the Astors came aboard with a woman that Mother called Margaret Brown.

  “I’ve read about her in the papers,” Mother whispered. “Not all of it good.”

  Nathan did his best not to gasp aloud as John Astor breezed by with his new wife. Likely Mother would be giddy at the idea that they were breathing the same air as John Astor, in spite of the latest rumors about the fellow’s new wife so quickly replacing the old one. To Nathan’s way of thinking, the fellow needed to be horsewhipped for treating his first wife in such contemptible fashion…but wife number two seemed content enough, strolling into the reception room on her new husband’s arm with a peaceful expression on her face. Not that everyone there treated the
woman as an equal. Many appeared to snub her.

  Nathan offered them a polite nod and looked around, hoping to see the lovely young woman he’d met on the Boat Deck—Jacquie. If only he’d gotten her surname. Hopefully she would arrive in time for dinner.

  To his right, James Carson chatted with Major Archibald W. Butt, a kindly gentleman who happened to be a close personal friend of the president. Mother seemed particularly thrilled by this news and did all she could to direct Nathan’s attention to the man. Still, he couldn’t stop searching the crowd for Jacquie.

  “Oh my.” Mother nudged him with her elbow as a well-heeled couple entered. “That’s Benjamin Guggenheim.” Mother leaned close to whisper, “And that lovely young thing on his arm is not his wife. I’ve met his wife, and she doesn’t look a thing like this lady.” Mother’s voice lowered a bit more. “If one could call this woman a lady, I mean.”

  Thank goodness, a blast of the bugle signaled the evening meal and Nathan did not have to comment.

  “That’s our cue, I believe,” Mother said.

  They settled in at a fine table on the far side of the dining room and Nathan left the seat to his right empty, just as he’d promised, though Mother fussed a bit at having to sit on his left, as that put her out of hearing distance from the Astors at the next table. Only when Colonel John Weir, illustrious silver miner, asked to share their table did Mother perk up. Mr. Brayton, the fellow who had invited Nathan to join him for a game of cards, joined them as well, his bushy eyebrows quite the distraction.

  A steward reached to unfold the napkin and placed it in Mother’s lap. She took a sip of water from the crystal goblet and sighed. “This is all so beautiful.”

  “Did you see Mr. Ismay?” John Weir pointed to a fellow at a nearby table. “We owe the man a debt of gratitude. Without him, Titanic would not exist.”

  “After our close call with the New York, I wondered if she might meet an early demise,” James said.