Georgiana understood the intensity of Madeleine’s feelings – it was the very reason why she’d been willing to risk everything to marry William. If she hadn’t been willing to risk everything, to forfeit her family, she wouldn’t have married William; women had been ruined by innocent scandals. No matter how chaste a woman may be, she could be damaged to any unseemly man’s word. And words once said could not be unsaid. Georgiana had always prided herself on her strength, determination and will-power, but Madeleine’s statement had caused her to wonder if she, too, would cease to exist without William. The thought was too frightful to compare; and why should she worry? Both her and William were young, and it was a time of peace, not war. And, in any event, should another war require Britain’s services and men, William wasn’t the sort that needed to heed the call.
Sitting in the Café Parisien, a small restaurant that was run by Gatti’s men and therefore offering luxuries one simply could not obtain at the breakfast buffet in the first-class saloon, unless one was willing to pay a pretty penny for the additions, Georgiana soaked in the beauty of the restaurant. It was decorated beautifully, and looked like a Parisian side café, the white walls dressed with ivy, matching the long, green carpet that ran the length of the room. The large windows overlooked the B-deck promenade, and the group sat in white wicker chairs at a white-clothed green table with fresh yellow daises as the morning’s arrangement.
A waiter, dressed in white, appeared at the table, eager to serve. Georgiana and William ordered a fresh pot of English breakfast tea, with accompanying honey, lemon and milk brought to the table, while Jack and Maggie chose coffee, cream and sugar (Georgiana could not imagine anything so detestable as cream and coffee; American habits were still so queer to her). Madeleine requested ginger tea for her stomach; her morning sickness had so far been limiting her activities; they had retired early, and Jack had sent Madeleine’s nurse to bring back ginger ale, beef tea and crackers. Georgiana could not help but smile at the way Jack fretted over his wife; he seemed concerned by her well-being, desperate to assist her in any way that he could manage. She could tell he doted on her; his brown eyes watched her every move, his hand always next to hers or on Madeleine’s wicker chair. The two moved in perfect harmony, as if they existed in their own tiny little world, and everyone around them were merely characters in a play.
The waiters brought the group an abundance of assorted foods for starters; plenty of fruit for the women, followed by smoked salmon and fresh herrings (though the men, and Maggie, ignored this in favour of grilled sausage and ham, poached eggs with hollandaise, buckwheat cakes with maple syrup, and soda scones), and each ordered an omelette, freshly made. Georgiana, already full, passed, though she had yet to finish a meal (her corset could barely stand the strain; when choosing between eating and breathing, breathing frequently won); William ordered ham and spring onion with his; Maggie asked for the chef to surprise her; Madeleine forfeited, saying the very idea of eggs made her stomach feel upset; Jack, on the other hand, asked simply for runny fried eggs, sunny side up, with wheat toast and creamed butter. He requested a steak – a bizarre choice for breaking fast, Georgiana felt, but the waiter did not blink an eye, so she supposed it wasn’t terribly unusual – cooked rare, accompanied with a horseradish sauce.
Georgiana wondered how any of them were capable of eating so much, especially with the widespread luncheons and dinners that were expected of them; luncheon was usually six or seven courses, and dinner was a minimum of eight, nearing ten. As a result of knowing that she’d be full if she attempted to eat anything too large – in all honesty, she still felt full from the previous night’s adventurous dining experience – and instead custom-ordered a fruit parfait from Luigi, who obliged happily. Madeleine had followed a similar vein of thinking, though she had opted for Quaker oats topped with fresh berries and Maple syrup.
“Isn’t this ship just marvellous?” exclaimed Madeleine, sipping her ginger tea. Georgiana hoped more colour would flush to Madeleine’s cheeks, now she was eating. “Honestly, I am ever so pleased Jack and I managed to book a passage. It is emptier than expected, though, is it not?”
“It is,” Maggie concurred. “I’m surprised we haven’t picked up more. And there won’t be many first-class passengers in Ireland, if there’s any at all.” Maggie’s voice didn’t contain malice; it was matter of fact, as if she had resigned herself to the pretentiousness of high society.
“It’s supposed to be full on the return voyage, my love,” Jack piped up, fried egg stuck to his moustache. It jiggled as he talked, and while the action repulsed Georgiana, Madeleine giggled, and she used her finger to wipe the egg away, before sucking the yolk from her thumb. He kissed her hand in return, and she beamed.
“I would have thought more people were making the passage to America than England?” inquired Georgiana.
Jack shrugged, continuing his breakfast.
“I don’t mind,” Maggie said. “It’s nice, exploring this ship without being held down by so many cumbersome passengers.”
“It’s grander than I expected,” Georgiana relented. As the daughter of the Earl of Gresham, it was hard to shake off the elitism she’d become so accustomed to. The truth was, Georgiana couldn’t envision a ship more luxurious; it was as if she were on a grand holiday, not travelling to her sister’s doom.
“Grander than you expected?” roared Maggie, slapping her knee as she laughed. “Joy, you couldn’t sound any more hoighty-toighty if you tried. My word, you British are a strange lot.”
Georgiana flushed; William squeezed his wife’s hand.
“Don’t worry your little heart, lassie, I’m just teasing you. You should know that by now. I don’t say what I don’t mean, so you would know if I thought poorly of you.”
“So, William, what’s the plans for your American visit?” Jack interrupted, not interested in hearing Maggie and Georgiana’s discussion continue.
“Well, we ourselves won’t be staying as long as the rest of Georgiana’s family,” William said, smiling down at his wife. “We’ll be returning to my Estate in Hereford as soon as Cecilia’s engagement is officially announced, and we’ll make a return voyage for her wedding, which should follow in a few months – perhaps even on this ship, unless the Gigantic is completed first. It’s supposedly meant to be even more luxurious than the Titanic.”
“And larger,” Jack said, the two men grinning stupidly at each other. Georgiana didn’t understand man’s desire to make everything so large.
“You’re not staying long?” inquired Madeleine, ignoring her husband and William.
“No, we’re wanting to start our own family, so we’re hoping to return to our estate as soon as we’re able.” Georgiana liked the way William said ‘our estate’. She’d never thought of it as hers, but it was nice hearing ‘ours’.
Jack nodded his approval, before lighting a cigarette. “So, and I do hope it’s not too bold of a question, but what does a Viscount even do? What is your purpose?”
William, following Jack’s suit, also grabbed a cigarette; Georgiana, who had found the habit rather fashionable in Paris and had taken a small liking to it, picked up her gold lighter, offering it to him. She held her gold cigarette holder in her hand, with William lighting her cigarette as well; both Maggie and Madeleine refused, albeit for different reasons. Maggie said she never smoked so early in the morning, and Madeleine said the smell made her feel ill, though she seemed to feel that way about everything. Unlike her sister Eliana, however, Madeleine did not seem downcast by her morning sickness; she was a happy, bubbly young woman, who seemed to only want to see the best in everything.
“I oversee all the people that reside in my estate,” William replied. “It’s not an Estate as large or as grand as an Earl’s, but it is my responsibility to Hereford that I do my duty. Nonetheless, I am a voice for my people, and it’s them whom I serve, and serve them I do, most humbly. I ensure they have a village, a doctor, food – everything the townspeople need. In return, they pay me r
ent for lend of lands and houses.”
Jack nodded approvingly. “It sounds other-worldly.”
“So does owning a chain of hotels, some of which we’ve had the pleasure of staying in.” William winked slyly at Georgiana, and she felt flames flicker around her neck, desperate to reach out and touch her husband as carefree as Madeleine had been with Jack just a few minutes past.
“Touché,” Jack laughed, and Georgiana couldn’t help but smile at how happy and free her husband seemed. Around her family, especially her father, she could feel the tension rising inside him, surrounding him like a black fog, almost suffocating him as he tried – and failed – to earn the respect of Georgiana’s parents. “Have you been to the swimming pool yet, old boy?”
“I’m not much of a swimmer, nor am I an early riser.”
“Too bad,” mused Jack. “It’s free, in the mornings, if you’re up early enough.”
“Free?” questioned Georgiana. “I heard it cost a shilling.”
“Not in the early mornings, and only if you’re a man,” added Jack, to which Maggie snorted something that sounded like “of course”. “They’re doing it for us gents who like a good early morning exercise. Colonel Gracie is always in the pool, top of the morning, before his squash matches. He’s a good friend of mine, if I’m frank. So is Major Archie Butt, if you’re familiar with the man. He had a lucrative career during the American War. Butt’s even friends with President Taft. Speaking of which, William, you said you were eager to make use of the squash courts the other night?”
“I am.”
“Well, I propose a match, if you’d like. The ladies can watch in the viewing room if they’d like –”
“– I would rather not. There are at least a dozen things I can count easily that would be far more interesting than watch you two fumble over hitting a racquetball. I can’t imagine anything more dreary than pretending that I care about your prowess.”
“– Georgiana and Madeleine, then, could watch us play.”
While Georgiana had initially been taken aback by Maggie’s desire to say precisely what sprung into her mind, regardless of the consequences, she now found herself frequently trying to avoid breaking out into laughter. She couldn’t imagine anyone else she knew, not even the fictional Elizabeth Bennett, questioning a courteous man in such a way, and yet she found it positively delightful, especially as she shared Maggie’s sentiment. Georgiana hated being dragged on sporting events when she would much prefer reading a novel or dancing or dining with friends. Frankly, she quite preferred almost anything else. What was more was that Maggie’s insistence seemed to get her exactly what she wanted, whilst earning the respect of many of the men around her. If Eliana thought Georgiana both brave and crude for defying their parents, Georgiana wondered what her sister would make of Maggie, a self-proclaimed feminist.
Georgiana had not had the courage to ask yet what a feminist was, though she gathered it had something to do with the woman’s suffragette movement. Georgiana knew little of politics, but she would care to have the right to vote. Perhaps is she had the right to vote, she’d care more for politics as they would directly affect her. Even the small colony of Australia – which had only, in the past decade, even become a nation – had given women the right to vote, ten years prior.
Though, Georgiana thought in retrospect, that may have had something to do with the country becoming a fully-fledged nation at the same time. The land was filled with crooks and criminals who abated the law; they needed votes from level-headed persons, and not lawless men with guns. Georgiana was familiar with the story of Mary Bryant, whose brutish tales of her travel to Australia, and her heroic escape, had dazzled her; though she found that it was mostly due to the tragic story Mary told. She had not only lost her husband, but she had lost all her children, one of which appeared to have been conceived during travel; some of whom had to be committed to the depths of the sea, dying in search for land, succumbing to illness and hunger.
Georgiana wondered if she’d get a chance to introduce Maggie to her parents; watching as her father’s face changed different colours from red to purple would be somewhat entertaining, and it would be a nice reprieve from hearing his annoyances about Georgiana’s choice in marriage. He’d have someone he could bark his anger at, and Georgiana could be amused, watching how little Maggie cared for his opinion. She knew that Maggie’s apathy would only incense her father more.
Somehow, that added to the satisfaction of pretending she could be present while Maggie told her father off.
Perhaps, Georgiana mused, she should take a leaf out of Maggie Brown’s book and simply say, “Frankly, dear Papa, I don’t give a damn”, but well-bred young ladies simply did not speak to their fathers in such a manner, nor did they use such language. While Maggie’s father may have put up with it, and while Maggie’s husband – who was not with her, as he detested travelling and had business matters to deal with, and also happened to be an abusive twit that Maggie made clear she could not bear – was not accompanying her, Maggie’s stories made it clear that he could not prevent her from doing whatever what she had decided she wished to do. Georgiana was sure and certain that, once Maggie’s mind was set, no one could likely persuade her otherwise, and she would rue the man who tried.
Georgiana wondered if Maggie’s vulgarity and garishness were an American custom; Americans were far less conservative than their British counterparts. They talked of new beginnings and equality, though Georgiana felt that they did not entirely practice what they preached on the latter. She wondered if they lectured it because they wanted to believe it, and they wanted the immigrants arriving at Ellis Island in droves, to believe it, too. Regardless of the reasoning, Americans seemed more at ease than the English, something Georgiana found herself resenting.
“I wouldn’t mind watching a squash match,” Georgiana lied, before trying to wave at another first-class passenger, a friend of her mother’s. The woman frowned and didn’t return Georgiana’s smile. She walked right past their table, as if she hadn’t noticed Georgiana’s welcoming; Georgiana couldn’t understand what she could do to cause such a cold greeting. “What on earth?”
Georgiana looked to William first, thinking that the problem lay with her, before catching the way Jack was comforting Madeleine. If she’d had any doubts at what had caused the kafuffle, Maggie’s next statement cemented them: “Nosy buggers, can’t just keep minding their own business. Don’t worry, Maddy dear, they’re just snooty tramps, if you ask me.”
“Are you okay, my love?” Jack whispered.
“Some people have absolutely no decency,” William grumbled.
“Some people are idiots, you mean, Will. I think you’ll find that it’s less about a lack of decency, and more to do with lacking soul. They’re toxic bastards, best to leave them skulk.”
“Whilst I do not condone Maggie’s vulgarity, I agree with her sentiment utterly. I can’t even remember her name; she’s but an annoying acquaintance of my mother’s, so pay her no mind. Are you okay?” Georgiana asked in hushed tones. Madeleine had been pale in colour earlier, due to her pregnancy; now she looked white and gaunt, twinged with a green. Her small mouth was twisted in despair, and tears welled behind her eyes, though she fought to regain her composure.
“I didn’t think they’d still be so cruel on this ship, for Christ’s sake!” snapped Jack. “Can they not see that she’s with child? That we are happy? They’re going too far.” He slammed his closed palm down on the table, catching the attention of both passengers and waitstaff alike. “I will not let this continue, Maddy. I will not let them treat you thus.”
“Please, Jack,” begged Madeleine, her voice barely a whisper, tears sparkling in her pretty brown eyes as she looked at him the way the sun looked at the moon. “I can’t bear it. Please don’t make a fuss.”
“It’s not right,” protested Jack.
“What’s been happening?” William asked, his dark eyes filled with genuine concern.
Jack s
poke first, and with anger. “Since our courtship, we’ve been hounded by the press and friends alike. It’s perfectly okay to live out a loveless, miserable marriage. It’s even okay to divorce your wife, setting yourself finally free after being imprisoned for so many years in shared misery, suing for infidelity. What does not seem to be okay is my falling in love with Madeleine. I’m afraid my dear wife has borne the brunt of the cruelty of our peers, through no fault of her own, I might add. She should not have to suffer for my decisions, and yet the weight is borne upon her. And the disparaging remarks about Madeleine’s young age in the press haven’t helped any matters; they’ll be rife with speculation as Maddy’s belly grows. The constant attention – it’s affected my eldest, Vincent. He’s a sweet boy, and God knows I love him, but he’s taken the divorce rather personally. If I had any chance of warming him to Maddy, the press and society made sure it would be a task of the most impossible pursuits.”
Georgiana studied Madeleine’s face to see if Jack was leaving anything out, but it didn’t appear to be so: She winced now and then, but mostly she looked despondent as she stared into her growing lap, and Georgiana suddenly became aware of what the young woman was most likely thinking: That her baby was being born into a world that hated her for existing.
Georgiana couldn’t imagine the burden and grief that must be weighing on her shoulders, especially as she loved her husband so dearly.
“Like I said, they’re nasty buggers,” Maggie supplied helpfully, and Madeleine offered a smile small. “It’s best to ignore the buggers. They don’t like me because I speak my mind and I’m new money, but the truth is, they don’t like anything different. I’m different, you see.” Maggie shook a gravy-covered piece of sausage at Jack. “I speak my mind, I don’t care all that much for societal conventions, and I’m happy travelling solo, sans escort, and I’ll walk the deck, sans escort, no matter what matron sign encourages me not to walk unescorted. I talk smack as much as the gents, and I will hustle my way into the Smoking Room if need be – I’m a better crack at cards than all you lot. And it’s the same for you, Maddy,” she added, her voice becoming kinder, the harsh veneer tone disappearing. “You married Jack for love, and as he’s older than you, there’s not a person within our peerage that can fathom that love made an important factor into this equation. So, instead, like the women of Salem, and all of King Henry’s wives, and Eve, who this whole bloody thing started with, they blame you. You’re the problem – the wanton woman, the scarlet letter. Time will pass, and a bigger drama will unfold, you’ll see. Someone of more importance will divorce, or a disaster will strike, or the President will die. In the meantime, people will see your baby and coo, and the stares and glares will begin to dissipate. In the interim, there’s always those that don’t care for judgements based on prejudices, and they will be your dear friends now and for forevermore. In time, society will give you the respect that is owed to Mrs Jack Astor.”
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