Voyage in Time: The Titanic (Out of Time #9)

by Monique Martin

  A few moments later, Edmund returned and handed her a glass of water. It was cool and refreshing and did the trick. The last bit of dizziness passed and she felt normal, if a little embarrassed.

  He sat down next to her.

  “Better?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Just one of those weird things.”

  “I should find your husband,” he said as he started to stand, but she grasped his arm.

  “Don’t. He worries too much. I’m fine,” she said with a forceful smile. “Really.”

  She held up the glass. “This helped.”

  He still didn’t look convinced. “If you’re sick—”

  “I’m not. I’m—”

  He looked at her expectantly. The thought made her laugh. Expectantly. That made two of them.

  Her laughter just made him look more concerned.

  She trusted him and being honest might be the only way to keep him from telling Simon about it.

  She leaned in closer and waved him to mimic her.

  “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

  He leaned back and grinned. “You’re—”

  “Shhh.”

  She looked around anxiously. “It’s a secret.”

  “You mean, Simon doesn’t—”

  “No, he knows. Of course, he knows. We just don’t want anyone else to know, you know?”

  Slowly, he nodded. “Right.” Then he frowned. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Killers on the loose.” She shrugged. “Just seems wise.”

  He chuckled. “Good point.”

  “And Simon’s the over-protective type, so if you could keep this little incident between us?”

  He winked at her. “I knew a few expectant fathers like him. Worried over everything. My sister worked at the factory up until the day she had my nephew. Her husband worried all the time, too.” He frowned in thought then. “The boy did come out backwards, come to think of it. But he’s all right, mostly.”

  Somehow, that wasn’t all that comforting.

  “How about some more water?” she said.

  He grinned and got up to get it.

  Just as she was trying not to think about Charlotte coming into the world backwards, she saw the Rivets arrive, fashionably late, of course. They didn’t notice her, though, as they made their way to the cloakroom. George helped Henrietta take off her red velvet cape and handed that and her matching purse to the man behind the counter.

  Elizabeth watched as they disappeared back into the crowd. And as they did an idea came to mind.

  “Your water, mum,” Edmund said with a big fat wink and courtly bow.

  Elizabeth took it and set it aside untouched, earning a confused frown from him. She turned her attention back to the cloakroom attendant.

  “How are you in the diversion department?” she asked. “Causing them, I mean.”

  He followed her gaze. “Pretty good, I think.”

  “Just pretty good?”

  He turned back and grinned. “Very good?”

  “Better.” She returned his smile.

  He looked at the room and the man behind the counter. “It won’t last long, you’ll have to move fast. Too many crew members to step in. Whatever you’re going to do, do it quick, right?”

  Elizabeth nodded and stood to move near the end of the counter that was hinged and lifted up. She smiled at the attendant and then turned her back.

  A few minutes later, Edmund came up to them, breathless. “There’s a man choking.”

  The attendant blanched and looked for help. “Let me get one of the stewards.”

  “There isn’t time.” Edmund reached over the counter and tugged on the man’s lapel. “Come on, man.”

  The attendant was reluctant at first, but then nodded and lifted up the hinged end of the counter and came out. Edmund practically dragged him away.

  Quickly, Elizabeth slipped into the cloakroom. Luckily, Henrietta’s red cape and purse were easy to find. She grabbed the hangar they were on.

  “All right,” she said to herself, “let’s see what we’ve got here.”

  She took the purse off the hanger. It was oddly heavy. She tugged on the strings of the reticule and pulled the fabric open.

  Inside there was an assortment of the usual things found in a woman’s purse—a compact, a small fan, a container of lip rouge, a tiny pill box, handkerchief, room key and gun.

  Elizabeth nearly dropped the purse. A gun? Despite knowing she didn’t have much time, she couldn’t help herself and reached down into the purse. She looked through the doorway to make sure the attendant wasn’t on his way back, then ducked back into the room and pulled out of the purse a very ladylike and very deadly gun.

  For a moment, she thought about taking it. She could slip it … somewhere, but then the Rivets would be onto them, being onto them. As much as she hated leaving a weapon with them, she put it back and then quickly put the purse and cloak back onto their hanger. She was just about to slip back out when she saw the attendant striding back toward the cloakroom.

  Edmund was by his side. He caught sight of Elizabeth and his eyes went wide with alarm. He grabbed onto the attendant’s arm and Elizabeth made a dash for it. She just managed to slip under the bar and slide into a nearby chair as the attendant came storming back.

  “I’m sure he was,” he said, angry but trying not to show it.

  “I swear, he was there,” Edmund said.

  The attendant grunted and moved back into position. He went into the room and quickly checked to make sure all was well.

  Elizabeth and Edmund didn’t wait around to make sure it was, and hurriedly made their escape.

  Chapter Nineteen

  SIMON TOSSED THEIR ROOM key onto the dresser and then massaged his forehead. “What were you thinking?”

  “That it was a golden opportunity to find out what they’re up to, which I did, by the way. And you’re welcome and it’s no good.”

  “What’s no good?”

  “What they’re up to,” Elizabeth said as she reached to unhook a necklace that wasn’t there. “I keep forgetting.”

  He hadn’t. Not for a moment.

  He walked over to her and took her by the shoulders. “We’ll be fine.”

  She nodded.

  “And you’re right,” he said, knowing there was no use in arguing with her about this.

  “Ah-ha!”

  It had been risky, but when compared to her usual forays into madness, only modestly so.

  “However, finding a gun in her purse doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re the people we’re looking for.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

  “She could be keeping it for self-defense.”

  “Against her adoring fans?” Elizabeth said.

  Simon shrugged. “Possibly.”

  Elizabeth wrinkled her nose and then turned away and looked at herself in the mirror as she began to undress. “There is one way to find out. To be sure.”

  Simon’s stomach began to clench. “There is?”

  She turned around, her eyes bright with excitement. “Yes. If she had that in her purse, imagine what’s in their room.”

  Simon shook his head. “No, we are not breaking into their rooms.”

  “Why not? Everyone else is doing it.”

  He opened his mouth to reply, but it was such an absurd retort he wasn’t sure how to counter it.

  “Elizabeth—”

  She smiled and ignored his entreaty. “It would be easy. Have you seen the locks on these doors? I could pick them in my sleep.”

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “We’re on the Titanic. The. Titanic. A little B & E—”

  He laughed out loud at that. “B & E, is it now?”

  She blushed. “Well …”

  He shook his head. “How is it, no matter where or when we go, you manage to find a reason to commit robbery?”

  “It’s not robbery if you don’t have a gun and nobody’s there. Technically, this is bur
gling.”

  “Technically?”

  She smiled then and insinuated herself into his arms, and he was lost.

  “It’s a good thing you met me or you’d probably be locked up in some Mexican prison.”

  She pushed herself up and kissed the corner of his mouth. It was disturbing how much she enjoyed committing crimes, and, he had to admit, a little arousing.

  He slipped off his jacket and started to undress.

  “We’ll make sure they’re otherwise occupied and be in and out before they even know it.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d let me do it alone?” he said.

  She merely smiled.

  “And if you feel faint again?”

  She froze in mid-undress; clearly she hadn’t been expecting that. Slowly, she turned to him, a wincing smile on her face.

  “He told you, did he?”

  “He did.”

  She pursed her lips in a pout. “Rat.”

  “He cares about you. And lest you’ve forgotten, I do, too. Very much.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “It was nothing this time,” he said. “But no secrets, remember?”

  She sighed heavily and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right.”

  They both went back to undressing and changed for bed. Once they had, Simon shut off the light.

  He laid back and pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest.

  Simon let out a deep breath. Finally, he could relax.

  “One more thing,” Elizabeth said in the darkness.

  Or not.

  “Antonio propositioned me.”

  Or not.

  He sat back up, dislodging her from her spot, and turned the light back on.

  “He what?”

  She grimaced. “Don’t be mad.”

  He clenched his jaw. He wasn’t mad, he was furious. What sort of—

  “He’s harm—”

  “If you say he’s harmless one more time, Elizabeth … I think this very clearly proves he isn’t. I should break his damned neck.”

  “This is why I didn’t tell you.”

  That wasn’t exactly calming, and he glared at her.

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” she said.

  “It means something to me.”

  He threw back the covers and got out of bed. No one would blame him if he threw the idiot overboard. No one would miss the idiot.

  “It wasn’t that big of a deal, Simon. He asked and I said no.”

  Between his usual worry for her and the exceptionally worrying circumstances they now found themselves in, he was already teetering on the edge. This was just the sort of thing to shove him over it.

  “And what exactly did he ask?”

  “You know, to come to his cabin.”

  The image sent Simon’s blood pressure up. “And he’d be your gigolo?”

  “No, he was willing to do it for free,” she said and, despite frowning and seeming to realize that this admission wasn’t helping matters, continued to babble. “Sort of like a coupon. Like a sex coupon. Try it and, if you like it, not that I would try it or like it…,” she continued, floundering, “and it’s more like a Groupon really because he’s got a lot of women. Apparently.”

  Simon stared at her as she came to an end and winced at how it all sounded.

  He took in a deep breath and let it out, trying to rein in his emotions. He knew he had nothing to be jealous of. Elizabeth loved him, of that he had no doubt at all, but …

  “A man does not proposition another man’s wife. Another man’s pregnant wife.”

  “Ah, but he didn’t know that!”

  Simon glared at her.

  “Not that it makes a difference because what he did was wrong. Very, awfully wrong.”

  “You think I’m being ridiculous?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No.”

  He sighed and tried to calm himself. “I don’t expect you to understand. It’s Neolithic, I’ll grant you, but you’re my wife. My wife.”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed. “And that doesn’t mean I think I own you. Or can or should control you. I think you know how I feel about you. But, I will promise you this, if another man tries to take you away from me again, I will snap him in bloody two.”

  Elizabeth’s lower lip pushed forward and her forehead wrinkled in what she called her “aww face.” She reached out and took hold of his hand.

  “I know the feeling.”

  He sincerely doubted that.

  “What?” she said, taken aback at his expression. “What about Cambridge Evelyn? Oh, we punted here. We ate delightful biscuits there.”

  It took him a moment, but then Simon burst into laughter.

  “It’s not funny,” she said.

  “Trust me,” he said. “It actually is. Evelyn and I were just friends.”

  “Mm-hmm. Like Chad and me.”

  “Elizabeth, Evelyn is—Wait a minute, who’s Chad?”

  “My boyfriend freshman year. I told Peter that we were—”

  Simon’s temple began to throb. “Who the hell is Peter?”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t try to turn the tables. We’re talking about you and your Great British Sconey affair.”

  He shook his head trying to translate Elizabeth into English.

  “Evelyn,” she said.

  “Evelyn is a man.”

  Her mouth fell open and hung there, gaping for a moment before she snapped it shut. She opened it and closed it again before saying, “A man?”

  “As in Evelyn Rothschild. Evelyn Waugh.”

  A flush crept across her cheeks. “Oh.”

  “I introduced him to his wife.”

  “You did?” she said. “Okay, now I feel stupid. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He felt a little embarrassed now for having led her on, but it had been nice to be on the other side for a change. “I should have. I’m sorry.”

  She nodded, forgiving him.

  He moved to sit next to her. “It’s oddly nice to know that I’m not the only one who can be irrational about these sort of things.”

  Elizabeth looked at him with a wince. “I wished her boils.”

  Simon laughed and put his arm around her. “We are a pair, aren’t we?”

  Elizabeth looked down at her belly. “And soon to be a trio.”

  He smiled as a warmth spread through his chest at the thought. Hesitantly, he put his hand on her stomach. “Can you feel anything yet?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. Just sore boobs.”

  He chuckled and she turned to look at him. Like a hand gripping his heart, he was struck again by how much he loved her.

  He ran his fingertips down the side of her cheek. “Well then, I’ll have to be gentle, won’t I?”

  A smile curved the corners of her mouth. “That’s not on the forbidden list?”

  “Happily not,” he said and pulled her into a kiss.

  The kiss grew into something more. After a moment, she pushed him back and moved to straddle his lap.

  He raised a questioning eyebrow.

  She grinned as she moved in to kiss him again. “Doctor’s orders.”

  ~~~

  Elizabeth scraped the last bit of her breakfast onto her fork.

  “Would you like another?” Simon asked. She’d always been a bottomless pit with the metabolism of a hummingbird. Eating for two turned her into a force of nature. Her breakfast had included grilled ham, sautéed potatoes, a baked apple and two sultana scones.

  Delicately, she dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her napkin as she swallowed the last bite. “I don’t think I’ll even need second breakfast today.”

  “There’s always elevenses.”

  She picked up her nearly empty orange juice glass. “To Tolkien and his foodly wisdom.”

  She drained the glass and sighed contentedly. For a moment, he let himself actually be content as well. Elizabeth could find peace in a hurricane, but
for him, it was much harder to come by. And as moments were wont to do, it passed, as the Rivets came into the dining room.

  He must have frowned because Elizabeth mimicked his expression and turned to see why his mood had soured so quickly.

  When she turned back her eyes were lit with excitement. “Let’s do it.”

  He watched them take a table in the corner. “Do what?”

  “You know.” He turned back and she wiggled her eyebrows and mouthed, “break in.”

  He hated that he’d agreed to this insanity. It was, however, probably the only way they were going to find out anything substantive about the Rivets. Still, it was risky.

  “They just sat down. We have twenty minutes easy,” she said.

  He had briefly considered asking Edmund to help keep the Rivets busy while they did the deed, but Edmund was more valuable to them ensuring Niels’ safety. If the people they were looking for weren’t the Rivets that would leave Niels alone and vulnerable.

  “All right,” he said, “but we have to move quickly.”

  Elizabeth grinned.

  She enjoyed this sort of thing far too much.

  They left the dining room, made a quick stop in their rooms so that Simon could grab his gun, then made their way up to C Deck and the Rivets’ room. They stood awkwardly in the hall as people came and went from their rooms. As the minutes ticked away, Simon became more and more sure that this was a fool’s errand.

  “This is impossible,” he whispered, thinking it just as well.

  “Patience, grasshopper.”

  And as if the universe were colluding with her, a break in the traffic came. Of course, they could be discovered at any moment, but that didn’t stop Elizabeth from dropping to her knees and pulling out her lock picking tools.

  She’d spent the better part of the morning fashioning them out of hairpins and practicing on the connecting door between suites.

  He glanced down the hall anxiously as she set to her task. People could come around the corner, two corners, in fact, at any moment. He tried to shield her as best he could, but it was impossible.

  “Almost there,” she said as she hummed The Girl from Ipanema.

  “Good because—” Mr. And Mrs. Strauss had just turned the corner. “Get up.”