"Even the stars of heaven fade when we're under the light of those great chandeliers," he said appreciatively. She smiled, though a little shiver ran through her. But she understood. He wasn't criticizing the spectacular beauty of the sky, but praising what man had made.
Yes, she would not fret about whether or not she was a productive person. There was still time. The doctors all gave encouragement. She had conceived, and they found no reason that she couldn't go full term at some point. But too much hope only made the disappointment greater.
But tonight, with Lydia having asked about children, a renewed hope rose. They were on a miracle ship. Lydia's and John's falling so deeply in love and being willing to defy convention was somewhat miraculous. Her gaze moved to the reflection of the bed where no one other than she and William had slept. They had been exhausted from the excitement of these past nights. And William had access to more people of his liking than ever before in his life and came in late, often rather inebriated, whether with brandy or the sheer awe of his surroundings.
Now she looked away from the bed and into his eyes as he stood behind her, his hand warm and gentle on her shoulders.
Caroline looked at the silk gown she wore, which William had included among his favorites. Touching her midsection, she thought of his many compliments on her girlish figure, as he called it. She'd much rather have the figure that many women complained about after bearing children.
In an occasional moment she allowed herself regrets. But just a look around the room renewed her gratitude for the blessings she had. She was accustomed to the finest.
"Oh, William. This ship is grander than anything I've ever seen. I dearly love it. But should we be so proud of it? There are so many who—"
He interrupted with a raised palm, "My dear." His smile was tender. "We each have our place in this world. And without those who build and progress, we'd have no electric lights. We'd still be astride horses. And," he said with warm regard, "without wealth, how would you have the purpose of helping the needy?"
"You're right, of course." She wanted to end the discussion immediately. He would never intentionally insult her. But she felt the sting, brought about surely by her own sense of insecurity, of having no real purpose but reaching out indirectly to children.
She shook that thought away as deliberately as she shook his hand from her shoulder when she rose and moved away from the mirror. She would not wallow in pity. No one else pitied her. They expressed admiration for her. The wife of Sir William Chadwick. A few even went so far as to envy her for having the free time to give to others.
William took off his jacket, hung it in the wardrobe, and turned toward the bathroom.
"William," she said, and he stopped, resting his hand on the door casing. "Tomorrow we women will be planning a wedding. You will need to occupy yourself without me."
"That will not be a problem. A few of us want to check out every nook and cranny of this ship. Do you know there are no handrails in the walkways because the ship won't even feel the push of a wave?" He added in light jest, "The sea is silent in deference to this floating city."
"And to think I had wondered if I'd have seasickness."
He shook his head. "We walk as if on land." His voice held awe. "This is truly a wonder of the world." He disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door.
Yes, he'd had an amorous ember in his eyes.
But it was about the ship.
Not her.
Caroline smoothed her hand across the edge of the satin counterpane and slipped between the sheets that had never wrapped anyone else in their comfort and warmth. She concentrated on the steady hum of the engines, which lulled her into thoughts of a wedding and how she might be of service to a couple so much in love.
17
Wedding day, Sunday morning, April 14, 1912
Lydia stretched and moaned deliciously upon awakening. This was her wedding day. Looking at the canopy, she thought this a breakfast-in-bed kind of day. However, she decided to feast in her dressing gown near the fireplace. Her lips kept spreading into a smile with the thought that before this day was over she'd be a married woman.
When Marcella brought breakfast, she also brought a note from John.
Let's attend church this morning and thank the Lord for his goodness.
Lydia was tempted to say she was too busy for church. She was supposed to look at Harriett's wedding gowns. But one of the things she respected about John was his faith. And she did want to see him. Be near him.
She wrote back, Yes, we'll do that.
She and John met outside their rooms. He took her hands in his. "I've missed you."
"Me too." She welcomed the touch of his lips on hers.
The service was held in the dining room. She hardly heard Captain Smith's sermon, nor could she concentrate on the meaning of "O God, Our Help in Ages Past," although she joined in singing. She even peeked at her husband-to-be during the closing prayer.
As soon as the service ended, Caroline came to them, followed by Lady Lavinia and Phoebe.
Caroline took her arm. "I must steal her away. Important business not for your eyes."
John nodded and walked over to where S. J. stood holding a sleepy little boy, who rested his head on S. J.'s shoulder.
"The wedding party members are probably waiting," Lavinia said.
Indeed they were. Molly and Madeleine were already ooohing and aaahing over the models parading through Harriett's room and the adjoining one, likely belonging to the top model and the seamstress.
They gathered at one end of the room. This was their own private showing of more than wedding gowns. The beautiful models entered and exited the bathrooms and glided through the rooms as if in a fashion parade.
Harriett explained that she was breaking the tradition of the rigid Edwardian styles. "No corsets. These are for comfort and casual elegance."
They all gasped when a model appeared wearing silk trousers. Spontaneous applause sounded along with exclamations of delight.
"I could not begin a showing with wedding gowns," Harriett said. "Now for the finale."
The model appeared, dressed in a gown grander than one could imagine.
"I've never seen anything like that one," Lady Lavinia said. "Is that crochet?"
"Every inch." Harriett swelled with well-deserved pride.
They were all amazed. Long sleeves, puffed above the elbows, frills, high neck, tight bodice, layers of form-fitting crochet bordered by more crochet in a different direction, and flared below the knees to the feet.
"That is so dramatic." Lydia had attended fashion showings in more than one country, her favorite being Paris. "I've never seen anything like it."
"There is nothing like it." Harriett's expression held mild censure. "These are originals. Is that the one you want?"
"I adore it. It's fit for a queen. But John and I aren't quite so flamboyant."
"Difficult to please, are you? Fine. Less flamboyance, Celeste!"
The bathroom door opened at the far end of the stateroom. That gown was worthy of any princess.
As the graceful model floated toward them, Harriett explained, "White silk." She circled her finger, and the model slowly turned. "Formfitting with simple lines. Wide back sash that gathers at the center with a bow."
"This," Harriett said, "may be worn as a wedding gown, formal dress, or dinner dress. It is tea length in front and comes just to the top of the ankles, which is of course shameless."
They all laughed. This garment was modest compared with her popular line of lingerie that raised many eyebrows.
"And," Harriett pointed out, "it's a couple of inches longer in back. The front bodice has a hand-decorated section of lawn material. The three layers of material hang in tiers to the floor. For a wedding there will be the addition of a veil."
Lydia could not imagine a gown more beautiful. "It's perfect."
"Try it on for fit," Harriett encouraged. Afterward, she examined it for any needed alteration. "Onl
y a slight tuck in the waist is needed," she said with a glance at the seamstress.
They all agreed this was the one.
"Oh, I'm delighted," Harriett said. "And you're right, Lydia. You're more genteel than flamboyant. Besides, I could not part with the crocheted one. That's my showstopper." She grinned. "But I couldn't resist getting your reactions."
Judging from the awe on the women's faces, there would be purchases made here before these new fashions ever arrived in New York.
"And this is a wedding present," Harriett said, handing Lydia something wrapped in soft tissue.
Lydia moved the panels of the tissue and held up the garment.
"Oh, naughty," chided Caroline playfully.
Lady Lavinia said, "Don't look, Phoebe," and the young girl put her hands on her face, then peeked through her fingers.
Others reacted with mock consternation but followed with demands of when and where they might purchase her latest fashions.
"Well, I could be persuaded to have a showing for the passengers," she said. "Why wait for New York?"
"Lovely idea," Madeleine said, and they all agreed.
"You invite the men and you'll make a mint selling things like that." She pointed to the lingerie. "But let's get this wedding done first."
The wedding party, as Lydia had begun to think of them, ate lunch on Lydia's deck. They had to ensure everything would be as perfect as that wedding dress. Trunks would have to be brought up for the entire first class because as Molly said in a joking way that held truth, "The ladies can't wear their dinner attire to a wedding like this."
Lady Lavinia reminded them, "Every lady on the ship will have to get her hair done before dinner."
That afternoon Lydia's hair would not behave. She'd never seen Marcella so nervous. She burst into tears and could not tame Lydia's curls.
There was only one thing to do. "Get Caroline."
Caroline and Bess came in. Among the three of them, they accomplished a miracle. "Your curls shouldn't be tamed," Caroline said. "Let them fall across your forehead and these longer ones along your face."
She did like the effect, and Marcella stopped crying.
They would put the jeweled combs in later, making sure to leave room for fastening the veil.
Caroline felt she had plenty of time. Her hair was wavy. Bess never had any trouble sweeping it back into a roll above her ears or piled high on her head.
"The usual style, Bess. I'll just wear more jewels for the wedding."
"Yes, ma'am. Everything you will need is right in the top of your jewelry box. Rubies and diamonds for the dress. Emeralds for your eyes."
"My eyes are brownish."
"With a touch of green when you're happy."
Caroline glanced at her quickly through the mirror, but Bess kept looking at her hair, wearing her characteristic impassive expression. She recalled that in her young years she'd been told she had green eyes. They'd changed to hazel. She never really gave them much thought.
At the moment, she gave Bess some thought. Bess was a twenty-nine-year-old spinster. She'd been a governess in early days and that's the reason Caroline chose her among the household staff after her marriage to William. She wanted someone who would become familiar with her and the household. And Caroline would decide if she thought Bess would be good with children.
She did think so. But the children never came.
And Bess became more like a mother to Caroline. Gently patting the roll, Bess said, "There." She looked into the mirror. "You're a very beautiful woman, Mrs. Chadwick."
"Thank you." Caroline thought she looked like a proper, matronly woman.
She'd never asked if Bess had wanted to marry and have children. Maybe someday they could simply talk like one woman to another. But for now, there wasn't time.
That's what Lydia said when Caroline went to her room and told her it was time for dinner.
"I don't have time for dinner," Lydia wailed even as they headed for the dining saloon.
"But you must make an appearance," Caroline said needlessly. "The guests consider this your pre-wedding dinner."
"Oh, I'm glad I have you to think for me," Lydia said. "This is the most splendid wedding any girl could have."
"You'll be a prime target for the photographers the moment you step out onto the deck, and next week you'll be famous throughout the world."
Lydia raised her hand to her brow. "Was it only yesterday all I wanted was to marry John?"
Caroline shrugged. "This is the price you pay for being rich, beautiful, and on the most magnificent ship in the world."
Lydia grimaced. "Oh, the burdens we bear."
"Yes," Caroline agreed playfully. "Now we enter through those doors for your last dinner as a single woman."
At the table for the wedding party only, Caroline looked over the menu.
R.M.S. TITANIC
*
APRIL 14, 1912
First Course
HORS D'OEUVRE VARIES
OYSTERS
Second Course
CONSOMMÉ OLGA
CREAM OF BARLEY
Third Course
POACHED SALMON with MOUSSELINE SAUCE
CUCUMBERS
Fourth Course
FILET MIGNONS LILI
SAUTÉ OF CHICKEN LYONNAISE
VEGETABLE MARROW FARCIS
Fifth Course
LAMB, MINT SAUCE
ROAST DUCKLING, APPLE SAUCE
SIRLOIN OF BEEF, CHATEAU POTATOES
GREEN PEAS
CREAMED CARROTS
BOILED RICE
PARMENTIER & BOILED NEW POTATOES
Sixth Course
PUNCH ROMAINE
Seventh Course
ROAST SQUAB & CRESS
Eighth Course
COLD ASPARAGUS VINAIGRETTE
Ninth Course
PATÉ DE FOIE GRAS
CELERY
Tenth Course
WALDORF PUDDING
PEACHES IN CHARTREUSE JELLY
CHOCOLATE & VANILLA ÉCLAIRS
FRENCH ICE CREAM
She slipped a copy of the menu into her purse. Lydia might like that as a keepsake but seemed too excited now to think of anything.
They went through the usual number of courses, which seemed to go more quickly than usual. No one bothered their table, and after the men left, no one lingered.
Lydia worried, "It's so late and getting colder on the outside deck. I wonder if some will simply go to their rooms and turn on their heaters or get beneath the covers."
"Not a chance," Caroline rebutted. "Anybody who is anybody wouldn't miss this for the world."
Lydia laughed. "I've been a bridesmaid a couple of times. This hardly compares. I hope I won't fall down the staircase."
"Don't worry. There's not a chance of that."
Seeing the astonishment on Lydia's face, she laughed. "We have everything under control. We'll tell you every move to make, and all you need do is obey. After all, tonight you'll promise to love and cherish for the rest of your life and," she emphasized, "obey."
Lydia laughed with her and said, "I could manage a couple of those."
18
The wedding, Sunday evening, 10:00 p.m., April 14, 1912
Shortly before 10:00 p.m. Lydia, in the white wedding dress and veil, wondered if she would ever breathe normally again as she rode up in the elevator with Caroline.
"Stay close," Caroline instructed as they stepped onto the upper deck. The band played a tune Lydia didn't recognize.
"Stand behind me," Caroline said, "and you can peek around."
The sight was unbelievable. Below the staircase, more than three hundred people—it seemed the entire first-class—were adorned more elaborately than at the formal dinners. Jewels glistened more brightly than the chandeliers. Men stood in formal wear, gloves, white shirts, vests, and white bow ties.
Across the way, beyond the staircase, several people stood in a doorway facing her, and she knew John was there. Col
lette, a beautiful, widely acclaimed singer who had been pointed out to Lydia, walked to the edge of the railing near the clock.
The band played "Let Me Call You Sweetheart." Collette's beautiful voice seemed to rise up to the glass dome, over the guests on the deck, and out across the sea.
Even from a distance Lydia's gaze at John in the doorway said, I'm in love with you. He answered the words, Say you love me too, with an ever-so-slight dip of his head, and a smile curved his beautiful lips.
When Collette finished the song, Harriett appeared and quietly described the singer's gown to Lydia. Then she did the same for the captain, who walked from the opposite room to stand on the landing in front of the clock. He wore a white Edwardian tuxedo with miniature medals on his jacket and rank braid on the cuffs.
The band played "Be My Love," and Craven strolled across the deck and stood to the left of the captain. Craven looked perfect in his formal wear, but Lydia allowed him only a glance. John was the object of her attention.
Lydia's eyes did not veer from John as he took his place on the landing, in front of the space between the captain and Craven. He stood with his side to the staircase, waiting for her.
The onlookers seemed to fade away as if the only reality were she and John. She thought her heart might burst.
But reality made an appearance in the form of young Henry, when he caused a slight commotion. Lady Lavinia tapped his shoulder, and he moved forward. He looked adorable in his formal suit, tails, and white bow tie, and holding a white satin cushion with tassels at each corner.
Lavinia coughed lightly. Henry stopped, looked back, then walked backwards and took his place beside Craven.
A few amused murmurs sounded. Caroline whispered, "That's what an audience looks for. That moment when a child delights them with a light moment amid the seriousness. Reminds us we're human."
Hearts That Survive Page 8
