She hadn’t told William all of that; some of it felt too petty to speak aloud. But she’d told him that she wanted an ending, in the event that she never warmed to them again.
When she’d tried to write the message herself, the words would only come steeped in bitterness. So she’d asked William to write Christopher and tell him she was willing to see them—but only in Southampton, only on the morning of the tenth of April, on the day they were to depart. William had booked them passage on a brilliant new ocean liner. She was going to young, wide-open America. Away from this strangling old place.
“No,” she sighed and scooted over so she could lay her head on his lap. “I’ll see them. I want to. But also, I don’t.”
“I understand.” He stroked his fingers through her hair, playing with the loose curls. He seemed to like her short hair—perhaps not to prefer it, but not to detest it, either. For her part, Nora had come to terms with it. The curls—which were more than they’d been before—were pretty, and she enjoyed not having it put up with a pound of metal pins that left her head sore and itchy every night. Still, the second glances and strange looks she got when she moved through any public space unsettled her. Women simply didn’t have short hair.
A knock on the door and a bellman’s call of “Room service!” disturbed their quiet moment.
“That’s breakfast. And I had your dress steamed, so it’s ready when you are.” With a kiss to her cheek, he lifted her head from his lap and stood.
She sat up. “Thank you. You take good care of me.”
“I’m happy that I can do it.”
William went to the lobby with her. As the elevator operator drew open the doors, William took a step, but Nora held back, not sure she could face them after all.
“We’ll go right back upstairs if you want. I’ll come back down and tell them to go.”
“No.” She drew in a deep breath and stepped out of the elevator.
“Do you want me to stay with you, or step away?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I’ll stay, until you say otherwise.”
“Thank you.” They came upon the wide space of the hotel lobby, and Nora scanned the clusters of elegant chairs. She’d chosen this place because it was so public, and she felt safer being around her father where he might not so easily lock her up. But now, the lobby felt too public a theatre for the pain she was bound to feel.
She saw them when Christopher saw her and stood, and she felt the first sharp pang of loss. Oh, how she loved him. All her life, he’d been a hero to her. Ten years older, nearly grown when their family had been broken apart, he’d been almost mythic in her mind. Like Beowulf or St. George. But he hadn’t rescued her from the dragons. She remembered the night that he’d beaten on her bedroom door, that he’d shouted at their father to let her out, to let him in. She’d thought he’d rescue her then, but he’d turned away. He’d gone back to London and left her.
And before that, more than that, he’d sent William away.
Every part of her seized up at once, and she stopped in her tracks. William stopped with her. He turned, putting himself between her and her family, and lifted her chin. “There’s no time that it’s too late to go back. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. There’s nothing you owe them, or anyone.”
“I owe it to myself. I can do this.”
“I know you can.” He bent and kissed her lightly, then took her arm again, and they walked the rest of the distance to her family.
“Nono! Oh God!” Christopher surged forward, his arms out.
Nora shook her head and leaned away from the threat of his embrace. She offered, instead, her hand. “Hello, Christopher.”
He blinked dumbly at her extended hand, then finally took it, lifting it to his lips for a formal kiss. When he spoke, his voice took on a more formal tone as well. “Nora. I’ve missed you. You look well. Very much better than the last time I saw you.”
“I am well, thank you.”
Her father had stood as she and William approached; now, Nora turned her attention to him. He’d become an old man since last she’d seen him, six months earlier. “Father.” She didn’t offer him her hand.
“Hello, monkey.”
“No. My name is Nora, and you will both call me by my name, please. I am not a child.” In making that simple statement, that strong declaration, Nora found her strength for this meeting. She squeezed her arm around William’s and smiled up at him. “I’m all right. I’ll be all right.”
Understanding, he smiled and kissed her cheek. “I’ll make sure our bags are off to the docks. Chris, Lord Tarrin …” He offered his hand.
Christopher took it first and shook it warmly, with both hands. “Thank you, old bean. Please keep in touch. And keep her safe. Make her happy.”
“I will. I’m glad to call you friend.” He turned to Nora’s father. “Lord Tarrin.”
William offered his hand again, and Nora’s father hesitated. She squared her shoulders—if he didn’t extend that simple courtesy to her husband, then she would turn her back on him at once and forever. But he did, at last, reach out and clasp William’s hand.
“Some would say that you’ve saved both my children, Mr. Frazier. I suppose I owe you another debt. Take care of my only daughter. Do a better job than I did, please.”
“We take care of each other, my lord. But I do my part happily and with all my heart.”
“Very well. Good travels to you.”
With that, William took his leave. “I won’t be far,” he promised before he walked away.
Nora watched him go, marveling yet again at the miracle that he was truly hers, then turned to the men before her. “Shall we sit?” She did so, and they followed suit.
Christopher leaned forward. “Thank you for seeing us.”
Her father nodded.
“Yes. Well, since I’m leaving the country and don’t know when, or if, I shall return, I want to say goodbye formally. And I want you to know that I am happy and well.”
“Not goodbye, certainly. Not forever.”
“I’m not sure, Christopher. I need more time to understand if the way I feel now is the way I’ll always feel.”
“And how is that, Nora?” her father asked quietly. “How do you feel now?”
“Angry. Betrayed. Abused. And deeply, achingly sad.” Again, saying the words made the emotion rise up and roar inside her, and she found herself struggling to keep her vision clear and her words smooth. “Father, are you sorry?” If he were sorry, she thought she could find a way to forgive him. In time.
“I’m sorry I didn’t prepare you for the life you were meant to lead. I’m sorry I let you fill your head with wild fancies so that you couldn’t see the world you belong in. I’m desperately sorry for that. I love you, Nora. Always. I only want the best for you.”
That wasn’t nearly good enough. He was sorry for the woman she had become; how could she forgive such a thing, when she’d fought so hard to make a place to stand and be herself?
“Well.” She stood, and, ever the gentlemen, they stood as well. “Thank you for coming all this way. I wish you both well.” With that and a brisk nod, she turned away, willing her shaking knees not to fail her. Where was William?
“Nora!” Christopher ran up to her side. “Wait. Wait, please.” He pulled on her arm, and she stopped. Stepping before her, he looked down into her face. Their eyes were the same, a blue more like their mother’s than their father’s. Christopher remembered their mother’s eyes. Nora didn’t.
But his were sad now, and set in a face creased with torment. “I am sorry. Terribly, miserably sorry. You are a marvel, Nora. My sweet, strong, brilliant sister. I’ve always loved you for who you are. I thought you would find a way to be yourself here among us, once your future was set. But I see I was wrong. I thought I could protect you, but I didn’t see where the danger was. I was wrong in that, too. I’m so sorry, Nora. You’re braver than I. You’ve always fought for what you need.
I only hide from it.” He picked up her hands and clasped them tightly. “Please forgive me, Nora.”
“I do.” She forgave him. Trust was another matter, one for the future. “I love you, Christopher.”
“And I love you. Please don’t let this be goodbye.”
“I’ll write.” William considered her brother a dear friend. Perhaps they would extend an invitation to him someday. She couldn’t bring herself to suggest it now.
His smile was sad but sincere. “Might I hold you for a moment, as a farewell?”
At her nod, he swept in and held her snugly. Over his shoulder, she saw William, standing at the edge of the lobby, his hands clasped behind his back, watching like a sentry.
The motorcar wended its slow way along the docks, through a tightening throng of people and vehicles, and massive stacks of bags and boxes. Nora tried and tried to see where they were headed, but the hat she’d found and declared just perfect! for their departure—a rich blue with red and white flowers and a white chiffon ribbon—blocked most of her view. William chuckled annoyingly each time she dipped and dived, trying to see.
By the time the view of the ship should have been unobstructed, they were too close, and all she could was a vast expanse of black before them. The car stopped, and the driver came round and opened the door. William stepped out and reached back to offer his hand. Nora took it and eased from the car. She stood on the dock and looked up, tipping her head so far back she had to set her hand on her hat to keep it in place.
“It’s enormous!”
“The largest ship afloat.” William hooked his arm around her shoulders and looked up with her. “I thought it was fitting. Her maiden voyage, and yours as well. Across the ocean, and into a life of your choosing.”
“Oh, how I love you!” She turned and flung her arms around him, pulling his head down under her hat so she could kiss him well and truly.
He lifted her off the dock and kissed her back, voraciously, as if he meant to have her right there, before God and half the world. Nora thought just then that she might let him.
But the driver cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me, sir. I’ll be needing to move the car and clear the way.”
William set her down with a frustrated chuckle. “Yes, yes. Thank you. Come, darling. Our bags should already be in our stateroom.” He took her arm and led her to the first-class gangway. At the base, Nora stopped again and looked up. She’d been to Dover many times, and seen many ships. But she’d never in her life seen anything like the one before her.
“There are more marvels and delights inside, love.” He tugged gently on her arm.
Nora smiled and stepped onto the gangway. The first step on her journey to a life of her own choosing. What she left behind only mattered as much as she wanted it to. Everything important was before her. Before them.
His smile beaming the same happiness she felt, William drew her close, and they boarded the RMS Titanic.
Nora had been born to a life of splendour. She’d been presented at court to the King of England. She’d dined with foreign dignitaries. She was the daughter of the Earl of Tarrin, and even in her stunted experience of the London Season, she’d been privy to the greatest luxury Society could muster.
And yet she was spellbound by the Titanic. Their stateroom was as luxuriously appointed, and as large, as any fine hotel suite, and far grander than her own bedroom at Tarrindale. The Grand Staircase, and especially the fantastical dome of glass above it, was as beautiful and elegant, as substantial, as anything she’d seen on land.
And the very best part of oh-so-much beauty and grace? It was new. Brand new. Every surface gleamed—not from years of polish, but from the lack of it. Never in her life had she seen or smelled, even tasted, such a pristine world. She could still smell the sawdust. The scent of new paint was so thick it seemed to settle on her tongue with a sweet tang. There was not a chip or a scratch or a tatter anywhere she looked.
They left the port at noon. William took her to a high deck—she couldn’t keep the names and letters of the different decks straight yet—and they stood at the rail with a throng of passengers so she could watch them pull away. There was no one, she thought, on the dock seeing them off—unless Christopher and Father had stayed to do so—but she waved anyway, caught up in the excitement. She was short, and the rail was high, so she stepped up on a crossbeam to see. William stood behind her, holding the rail with both hands, framing her with his body. She felt happy and safe and warm as she watched the dock shrink away. With it, all the pains and disappointments of her life on that soil seemed to shrink as well.
Her past disappeared, left behind, far away, where it couldn’t hurt her. Nora watched as long as she could.
After that, William told her they’d be stopping in Cherbourg, France in a few hours to collect more passengers and cargo. She’d seen enough of the English Channel to last her whole life, so she didn’t care until they were on the open sea. Instead, she dragged William below and explored everything she could, made him tell her about everything he knew—which was, from her novice perspective, a fairly substantial body of knowledge. He was a railroad man, but there seemed to be some shared elements to the vastly different modes of transportation.
Everything was beautiful. Even the working parts of the ship, those few places she could see, were like works of art. Even the uniforms, and the people in them.
“It’s all so beautiful!” she declared at the base of the Grand Staircase, looking up at the gleaming glass and brass of the dome high above her head. “And it smells so good!”
A few elegant passengers nearby—all the passengers were elegant in this part of the ship, and a few were wealthy enough to be famous for it—chuckled indulgently at her exclamation, but Nora wasn’t abashed. She was happy, and excited, and she didn’t care if her enthusiasm was unseemly. William held her and laughed with joy, and that was all she cared about. She felt free.
“Thank you, Miss. …” An attractive gentleman, older than William but younger than her father, came close with a smile.
William stepped in. “Mr. Thomas Andrews, may I introduce you to my wife, Lady Nora Frazier.”
“My lady! Please forgive me.” Mr. Andrews took her hand with a courtly nod.
She smiled politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Andrews.”
“Thomas designed the Titanic, Nora. This is his ship.” William extended his hand, and the two men shook warmly.
“It’s good to see you, William. I had no idea you’d married.”
“It’s new. We’re just back from Gretna Green.”
That earned a hearty chuckle. “And the best way to do it, if you ask me. Well done.” Mr. Andrews turned to Nora again. “My best wishes to you, my lady.”
“Thank you, Mr. Andrews. And congratulations on your ship. It truly is magnificent.” He’d made this wonder! She felt like a swoony girl meeting her first dashing gentleman, but she managed, she thought, a politely reserved tone.
“Thank you sincerely, Lady Nora.” He turned back to William and clapped a hand on his arm. “How’s your father? And your beautiful mother?”
“They’re very well. And you’re doing well. This ship—Nora’s right. She’s a marvel, Thomas. I’m astonished.”
“Thank you. There are years of work represented here. I’m proud of what we accomplished. Will you dine with me tonight, at the Captain’s table?”
William turned to Nora. “What do you think, darling?”
She’d wanted the voyage to be intimate, and only about William and her. It was their honeymoon, after all, as well as her journey to a new life. But she found herself charmed by the man who’d designed this wonderful thing, and by the honour of dining at the Captain’s table. There was, perhaps, a little sliver of a Society lady in her after all. “Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Andrews. We’d be delighted to accept.”
Dressing for dinner as Lady Nora Frazier was a far more satisfying and pleasant experience than dressing as Lady Nora Tate
ever had been. She required the services of a lady’s maid, provided by the Titanic staff—or were they all called the ‘crew,’ even if they didn’t help sail the ship?—but she didn’t mind.
For dinner on this first night, at the captain’s table, Nora wore a silk gown in a deep, sapphire blue, with a black chiffon overlay accented with crystals. The neckline plunged low, front and back, showing wide spans of skin, and the sleeves were only fluttering caps of sparkling black chiffon, leaving her upper arms bare to the tops of her long gloves.
As an unmarried lady, she might have caused talk to appear at dinner in such a dramatic gown, but as William’s wife, she could wear nearly anything she wanted, as long as certain parts were covered.
This was what her aunt had meant, Nora knew. The shield of marriage protected a woman from many kinds of judgment. She’d never disbelieved her aunt’s wisdom; she’d only been unwilling to marry for nothing but protection.
After she was dressed and made up, her cheeks and lips rouged and a touch of kohl at her eyes, the maid took her leave. Nora sat at the table in her little dressing room of their suite and fussed with her hair. When it curled just right, it was almost pretty.
William opened the door on a quick knock. He stood in the doorway, leaning rakishly against the frame. Oh, good heavens. He was so handsome, dressed for dinner in his white tie and tails, she could hardly believe he was real. And hers.
“You are stunning,” he said in a quiet, serious tone. Reverent. He sounded reverent.
“So are you.” She began to stand.
“Don’t get up. I have a gift.”
“Another? Do you mean to give me a gift every day of the voyage?”
He handed her a small box. “Every day of the voyage of our marriage, yes.”
Inside the box was a pair of earrings—long drops made of sapphires and diamonds. “Oh, William, they’re beautiful. And they’re perfect for my gown!”
Nothing on Earth & Nothing in Heaven Page 35
