Christmas in Time

by Peggy Webb

  “No doubt.” He stepped inside and sat on the chair beside the desk. “I brought you some breakfast rolls.”

  He took them from his pockets, wrapped in a linen napkin and still warm.

  “Thank you, Papa.”

  “I’m sure the staff would bring you something to eat, but I didn’t want to start out the journey being a bother.” Papa prided himself on not acting like a wealthy man expecting everybody to do his bidding. “The crew is busy enough, looking after a ship this size.”

  Gilly perched on a chair in front of the dressing table and ate her cinnamon rolls. Until she bit down, she wasn’t aware of how hungry she was. Being in love made her ravenous.

  “You’ve got your color back. That’s good.”

  “Ummm.” Remembering William’s lips on hers, she smiled.

  “I saw Molly Brown at breakfast. She was wondering if you’d meet her in the ballroom at ten and help decorate for her Christmas party.”

  “Of course.”

  She wouldn’t be seeing William until after lunch. It would give her something to keep her mind occupied.

  “All right then.” Papa stood up and put on his hat. “I think I’ll take a stroll around the deck. It’s not every day a man gets to enjoy the ocean breezes aboard a ship this size.”

  The size of Titanic no longer mattered to Gilly. Instead of being on a ship she’d planned to explore from stem to stern, it was now a ship filled with hidden nooks and crannies where a man and a woman in love could find the privacy they needed. Any time of day, on any deck, William had told her.

  Filled with secrets and possibilities, Gilly dressed quickly and went to the ballroom to meet Molly Brown.

  o0o

  Sixteen spruce trees had sprung up around the room. Eight of them were already strung with lights, while men on ladders draped lengths of Christmas lights along the branches of the remaining trees.

  “There you are!” Molly steamed toward her like the masthead on a ship, arms outstretched and neck stuck out to get the kiss on her cheek she considered her just due.

  “Here, let me look at you.’ She held Gilly at arm’s length, nodding and smiling. “Almost makes me want to be a spring chicken again.” Arms akimbo, Molly strutted around clucking, then doubled over with laughter.

  If Gilly had to spend the morning away from William Wesley, she was glad it was in the company of a woman who made her laugh.

  o0o

  When it was finally time to meet William, Gilly was so flustered, she almost got lost. Finally she found their spot, and he was already there, the wind whipping his hair and putting flags of red in his swarthy cheeks.

  “Gilly!” He grabbed her hand, laughing, and practically dragged her down a flight of stairs and under the stairwell. Shoving open a small door, he led her into a dark space that smelled of starch and clean linens.

  “Is this a linen closet?”

  “Hmm.” He pulled her close. “Just big enough for two.”

  He kissed her then, and the long hours of waiting dissolved into a magic moment that was the stuff of every girl’s dreams. The first segued into the second, and the second into a string of kisses that went on for more than an hour.

  Gilly loved that she was with William in the dark. She loved that they had to find each other by touch, by smell, that no matter which way she turned her head, William could always find her lips, no fumbling, no lost time, just flesh against flesh in a slice of time they’d carved for themselves in a ship filled with the hustle and bustle of more than two thousand people.

  She inhaled him, memorized the length of his legs, the breadth of his chest, the contours of his arms, the planes of his face.

  “I have to go back,” he finally said. “It’s almost tea time.”

  “I wish we could stay here forever.”

  His chuckle was rich and intimate. “We might get tired of standing up. We might start wishing we had a place to lie down.”

  “I already wish that.” In the darkness, his silence seemed so big she wondered if she’d said something to turn him away, to make him wish he hadn’t been so forward and moved so fast with a young, unsophisticated girl from Alabama.

  “Do you, Gilly?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can make that happen.”

  “When?”

  “Later, my sweet.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll go first. You wait five minutes then follow.” He kissed her once more, quick and hard. “Will you be at the Café?”

  “If anybody tries to stop me, they’re asking for a black eye.”

  Chuckling, he led her out of the closet, kissed her again under the stairwell, then took the stairs with determined strides.

  Listening to the clatter of his shoes on the stairs, Gilly placed her hands over her lips and smiled.

  o0o

  She’d arrived at the café before the quintet, hurrying to find the table where he’d first seen her yesterday. Had it been only twenty-four hours ago? It felt as if she’d known William Wesley for years, for lifetimes. It felt as if she’d been searching for him all her life, and could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

  She guessed she did sigh, because a woman at the next table leaned across and said, “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, better than all right. I’m wonderful!”

  She’d gone from the linen closet back to her stateroom, hurrying and hoping she wouldn’t meet anybody she knew on the way. Luck was with her. Breathless, she’d slipped into her room then leaned against the door. Then she laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. Being eighteen was the most amazing thing Gilly had ever known. What would nineteen bring? Twenty? Twenty-one?

  She pictured herself with a little girl who looked like William and a little boy who had his slender fingers and his musical talent. She pictured a small cottage somewhere – anywhere, Alabama, West Yorkshire – she didn’t care as long as William Wesley was at her side.

  Hurrying, she’d changed out of her wrinkled dress into a skirt and blouse with tucks running the length of the bodice and a cameo at the neck. With her hair tucked back into its pins, she looked sedate, modest, and innocent.

  She couldn’t wait to look different. She couldn’t wait for the way she felt inside to stamp itself on her face so that everybody who passed her in the hall would say to themselves, There’s a young woman in love.

  A flurry at the door of the Café announced the arrival of William and the rest of the quintet. They settled onto the stage, unpacked their instruments, and the band leader turned toward the small gathering in the tea room.

  “We have a birthday girl with us today. A young woman from Alabama who is on the Titanic for an eighteenth birthday voyage.” His gaze found hers. “Gilly Debeau, will you stand?”

  Flushed the color of a ripe peach, Gilly stood up to the sound of applause. She remained standing while the band played Happy Birthday, not because standing gained her more attention, but because it gave her a better view of William.

  When the song ended, he bowed toward her, then said, “Happy Birthday, Gilly Debeau.”

  It was the best present she’d ever received. She sank into her chair, ordered tea and a crumpet, and smiled while William played their song. He played a string of love songs, all the while holding her captive under his gaze, and then he led the band in a series of rags.

  Anything at all was fine with her, as long as she was in the same room, breathing the same air as William Wesley.

  When the band took a break, he came to her table, kissed her hand, then pulled out a chair and wiped sweat off his face with her napkin.

  “Playing ragtime is a workout.”

  “They loved it.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes. I love music of any kind, especially if you’re the one playing it.”

  He stood up, bent over her hand once more, then leaned to whisper something for her ears only. “Tonight, I’ll make music just for you.”

  Giddy, she watched him stride back to the bandstand and take up his
violin.

  “Now, for a change of pace.” He spoke to his band, then turned back to the audience. “When I sang in the choir at Bethel Independent Methodist Chapel in Lancashire under the direction of my father, I introduced this song to the congregation. I hope you’ll like it. It’s called Nearer, My God, to Thee.”

  As the soulful music of strings filled the tea room, Gilly shivered. The moan and cry of the violin made her think of hands reaching upward, of voiced lifted in supplication to the God of their forefathers, to a God they believed would bend down to hear their prayers.

  Nearer, My God, to Thee set a somber tone for the afternoon, and William’s band continued to play the old hymns for an audience who showed their appreciation with murmurs of admiration and a few shouts of hallelujah.

  After the show, William took her on deck to watch the sunset. Holding hands as the sky and the water turned gold, he talked about his childhood, his stern but loving upbringing from a father who was choirmaster and Sunday school teacher at the small chapel, of the bent old man in the congregation who had taught him to play the violin.

  “He loved the violin, and taught me to love it, too.”

  “I can tell how much music means to you.”

  “It doesn’t come from my hands on the strings.” He took her hand and placed it over his heart. “It comes from here. After you, Gilly, music is my true love.” He kissed the tips of each finger, lingering over her hand while Gilly felt as if she were coming out of her skin.

  “Meet me tonight? Same time? Same place?”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  “Wear a cloak and something to cover your head.”

  “Speaking of cloaks, I still have your coat.” She blushed. “I’m afraid it got wrinkled.”

  “That sounds intriguing. Any particular reason?”

  “I slept in it so I could feel close to you.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her for a very long while. She thought that every time she smelled the wind coming off the sea, she would think of this moment.

  “The coat’s yours, Gilly, Keep it.” When she started to protest, he put a finger over her lips. “I have a surprise for you.”

  “What is it?”

  He chuckled. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  With a last tight hug, he was gone. Gilly stood a while longer at the rail, not because of the sunset, but because the air around her still pulsed with William’s presence. Wrapping her arms around herself, she felt almost as if she were embracing him.

  “Gilly?”

  She gave a guilty start. “Papa! What are you doing here?”

  “I came to watch the sunset.” He leaned against the railing, and Gilly was grateful she had a father who respected silences. It gave her time to pull herself together.

  “Molly says you did a good job this morning.”

  “We had fun, Papa. It’s going to be a grand Christmas party.”

  “No doubt. She’s hiring that string quintet. And she’s bringing a young man she wants you to meet to dinner tonight.”

  Gilly made a sound of protest, then covered it up by coughing and fiddling with the pins in her hair.

  “Are you all right, Gilly?”

  “Of course, Papa.” It wouldn’t do to let him know how she felt about William Wesley. Not yet. Before the voyage was over, she’d find a way to get Papa used to the idea that his grown daughter was not only marriageable age but past it in the eyes of some. Then she’d introduce the two of them.

  Papa turned from the rail. “I’ll see you at dinner, Gilly.”

  o0o

  The young man sitting at the table beside Molly Brown had blond hair slicked back, beautiful blue eyes, and a debonair attitude that the privileged carry off so well. Though he looked no more than sixteen, he said he was nineteen and studying law so he could be a partner in his father’s firm.

  His name was John Carver, and Gilly thought he was overbearing, obnoxious and stuck on himself. When William’s quintet played I Ain’t Got Nobody, John sang along in a voice that cracked and went flat and grated on Gilly’s nerves.

  “Dance?” He didn’t wait for her to say no, but stood up and dragged her onto the dance floor while Molly beamed and her father sat stoic. Papa was nobody’s fool. He probably thought John Carver was a pompous ass and would likely tell him so if he weren’t careful.

  John could dance no better than he could sing. Hauled all over the floor without the least amount of grace, Gilly kept glancing in William’s direction. He was wearing a half smile, which told her exactly nothing. Was he amused? Worried that she’d found someone else?

  The Wiffenpoof Song started playing, and John didn’t even bother to ask if she wanted to sit down a while. He just bounced her around the floor while she tried to keep eye contact with William.

  It went on that way until Gilly was finally so fed up she announced, “I’m not dancing another step.”

  The minute she got back to her chair and turned his way, William said something to the band, and they started playing Melody of Love.

  “Why couldn’t they have played a love song while we were on the dance floor?” John’s complaint was spoken loud enough to include the whole table, and Molly Brown laughed.

  Gilly just smiled. She knew exactly why there had been no love songs for the last hour. She’d been on the dance floor with another man.

  It was getting close to midnight and William would soon be packing up his violin and hurrying to their special place.

  “Will you excuse me?” she said, and John leaped up to pull out her chair. “I have a slight headache and I’m going to retire.”

  “I’ll escort you to your room,” he said.

  Gilly was mortified. She had no intention of letting that brash boy know the location of her stateroom.

  “Thank you but, no. I need the peace and quiet of being by myself.”

  “I insist.”

  “So do I.” She glared at him then flounced off. It was the exit she’d perfected back home in Alabama when she wanted to send the message If you know what’s good for you, you’ll step aside and not mess with me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Gilly loved being the first at the trysting place. She enjoyed watching William walk toward her, seeing the anticipation on his face, the way his eyes lit up when he saw her.

  Tonight, though, she arrived out of breath and flush-faced, and he was already there, leaning against the railing smoking a cigarette.

  “I didn’t want to dance with him,” she said, all in a rush. “His name is John Carver, and he’s a silly boy my father’s friend wanted me to meet, and he means absolutely nothing to me.”

  William tossed his cigarette and held out his arms. “Come here.”

  She leaned her face against his chest, inhaling his scent and blinking back tears.

  “I know,” he said.

  “You do?” She looked up at him, and he wiped the tears out of the corner of her eyes.

  “It was written all over your face. Besides, he’s a mere child.”

  “And you are…”

  “Thirty-three. Almost twice your age, Gilly.” He made it sound almost like a question.

  “Perfect.” She pulled the hood of her cloak over her hair. “Where is this mysterious place you’re taking me?”

  “Hang on tight, and follow me. Don’t talk and don’t look anybody in the eye.” He adjusted her hood so that it covered not only her hair but the sides of her face.

  William led her through a labyrinth of hallways and stairways. As they left the first class quarters, the ornate furnishings gave way to sturdy teak, more durable but less fancy.

  As the band leader, William was becoming well-known among the passengers. Three of them, still milling around, tried to stop him to talk. He nodded and said a curt good evening, all the while keeping Gilly so close that the small oval of her face was hidden against his shoulder.

  Excitement thrilled through her. In making certain that nobody recognized her,
William was protecting her reputation. She felt grown-up and mysterious and altogether sophisticated. But she was nervous, too. Thirty-three! He was bound to be worldly-wise, and she was the exact opposite. Sheltered, that’s what she was. And totally ignorant of the things that mattered most to her this evening. Would he decide she was too young for him, after all?

  When he entered the second class stateroom section, Gilly sucked in her breath. William was taking her to his room. No wonder he’d kept her identity under wraps.

  “We’re here.”

  He unlocked the door and pulled her inside. Then he swept off her hood and kissed her for such a long time she lost most of her breath and all of her reason. She’d already defied convention and her upbringing by being in William’s private quarters, and now she was ready to break every rule.

  When William finally released her, he took her cloak and led her to a chair. Not the bed. A chair! She felt foolish and childish. Should she have made some bold move? Should she have indicated that she was more than ready to lose her virginity? Ever since she’d met him, she’d been more than ready to part with it.

  What was she supposed to do now?

  “Gilly?” He smiled at her. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “You look uncomfortable.” He knelt beside her and took her hands. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  “Well, of course not. I never thought you would.” She leaned back trying to look relaxed and confident instead of like an Alabama miss almost out of her teens and aching to be tutored in the ways of love. “If I were afraid, I wouldn’t have followed you in the first place.”

  “That’s my girl.” He turned her hands over and planted a scorching kiss in both palms, then folded her hands back into her lap. “Wait right here.”

  Where would she go? Certainly not traipsing back to her stateroom all by herself. She’d get lost. Not that she was a nincompoop who didn’t have sense enough to observe where she was going so she could find her way back. But because of her cloak and William’s shoulder, she hadn’t seen half of the twists and turns they’d made.

  She could hear William in the adjoining room. When he returned he set down his violin case, took out his instrument and tucked it under his chin. With the bow poised over the strings, he looked at her in the same deep way he had the first day he’d seen her. Was it only yesterday?