Nora quickly ran to the bed, sitting down, as if the day had already proved too extravagant. Nora was a typically shy and delicate child; it appeared that the day’s adventures had rendered her all but mute.
Claire desperately hoped that Nora’s tongue would make a resurgence once her cabin friend joined them; perhaps the young girl would even share her doll, a luxury Nora had never received. She hoped the toy would entice Nora to speak; she was sure and certain that once Nora began to speak freely once more, the words would flow with ease.
“Now, is there anything else I can help you with?” the servant girl inquired. Claire shook her head, and the stewardess smiled. “Luncheon will be served soon, and the ship will depart soon after, at one-thirty. The gallery can only hold so many passengers, so the seatings happen in groups of three. But do not fret for you or your young one, Miss, because there has never been a lack of food, not even here in steerage. Most young men dine in the Dining Saloon, which allows them to mingle and smoke with ease. However, I do need to regret to inform you that there will be many men in the dining room, as some are husbands with wives, or fathers with children.”
As the maid closed the cabin door, Claire felt herself sitting quietly next to her niece, understanding with joy the peaceful silence her niece frequently chose, allowing her thoughts to circulate freely as she imagined the future that was waiting for her.
And if that future possibly included Cillian, an unexpected addition to her journey, but an excellent one.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thursday, 11th April, 1912
Georgiana
Georgiana grasped William’s hand tightly, her body moulding to his, as they returned to their parlour suites after breakfast with the Astors. Her parents likely had had their breakfast brought to their room, as they had expressed interest in using both the Sitting Room and private promenade. Regardless of Eliana and George’s plans, their children would already be eating in the first-class dining saloon, having woken early and being cared for by Nanny, who would dress and bathe them, in their adjacent ensuite. Likely, they would have finished their meal by now, and would either be playing on the enclosed A Deck Promenade where the other children were playing, or playing in the private sitting room that came with the parlour suite.
Georgiana loved her older sister dearly, or at least she was sure she did most of the time which was by and near the same thing, and she knew how much Eliana doted on her children, even if she did not always show it.
She knew how Eliana’s moods frequently turned violent and ugly throughout every miscarriage and still-birth, and how, at times, she would refuse to leave her bedroom, for days or weeks at end, refusing all food, all comfort, all solace, refusing to speak with anyone, staring blankly at the white and gold ceiling, as if waiting for a spell to break. No one, not family, friend, or husband, could awaken Eliana from her curse. At times, she would not even acknowledge the person’s presence, her face impassive.
And while Georgiana was certain that Eliana would never wish, pray or want for a different life, and while hers and her sister’s lives had been governed by nannies and tutors, who taught them etiquette and ballroom dancing and the history of the British monarchy in preparation for their introduction to court; while they were taught how to convincingly mask inconvenient and unseemly emotions so as not to frighten or disturb men, instead of learning subjects of actual substance and matter, something seemed off in Eliana’s detachment with her children. She did not seem to embrace them the same way most young mothers did; and her manner of parenting was closer to Albert’s than it was Eleonora’s. Their father had been cold; their mother had been relatively hands-on, particularly for her status. She’d often played with them in the gardens, and spent days and nights reading to them their favourite fairy stories.
Georgiana absentmindedly touched her empty womb, pondering if she would be a more hands-on mother or if she, too, would fall to the guiles of grandeur and convenience that came when one permitted nannies, wet nurses and governesses to rule the household for her. She hoped for the former, imaging herself as an attentive, loving mother, but was not so naïve to believe she wouldn’t, at the very least, employ a nanny. It was essential that one’s children were raised correctly, and there wasn’t a woman on earth that could be expected to raise a child on her own.
One needed help to raise one’s children properly, especially when one came from a well-bred family in genteel society, and nannies and governesses ensured a seamless progression.
On that regard, Georgiana was dismayed to learn that so far, she showed no signs or symptoms of early parturiency, and while she was trying not to let her apparent failure burden her, she could not help wondering if she was defective, as they had made love every night of their honeymoon, and frequently more than once. His seed, warm and sticky, had filled her many times over, and both her body and womb ached for her husband’s touch; she prayed to Jesus that she would be blessed with child, that his seed would prove fruitful, filling her womb. She reminded herself to be grateful for having only William but seeing Primrose and Master Albert had swelled her heart. Georgiana could not wait until she was blessed with her own children, her womb full as Madeleine’s was.
Georgiana felt that she almost certainly should be with child, as there had been entire days of their vacation where they had made love, ate assortments of fruits and meats – supplied by her lady’s maid, Jessop, or William’s valet, Hartley – that were delivered to their room, where they ate, drank wine, laughed, kissed and made passionate love again. Their modesty had been banished; they were frequently bare or wearing sheer nightgowns or lazily pulling the silk sheets across their bodies. The sexual side of the relationship had overwhelmingly surprised Georgiana; she’d long been led to believe it was a woman’s duty, not a woman’s joy, yet she felt her body tingle at the thought of her husband’s touch.
She now knew why Queen Victoria had wanted for so many children; she craved her husband’s body, the way his body melted and joined hers, the way he filled and completed her, cherished her; the loving, tender moments as he moved – sometimes with passion and vigour, sometimes delicately, as he stared intently into her eyes, disbelieving his good fortune.
Georgiana tried to remind herself that, despite the unexpected joy of spending each night – and countless days – in her husband’s tender embrace, that it wasn’t uncommon for married couples to take some months to conceive – God knew, as He was her witness, that she’d witnessed the difficulties her sister had suffered when trying to conceive. Lady Primrose had come without tribulation; though the others had not, many not even making it to term. Master Albert was the product of many stillbirths and miscarriages, and while he brought with him the much-needed heir, he still came with a shadow of despair of all that was not.
As a result of witnessing her sister’s struggles, Georgiana tried not to feel envious and resentful of women like Madeleine who made conceiving appear effortless. With Madeleine already entering her second trimester, it was likely she had conceived on her very wedding night. Georgiana had received her monthly bloods the first week of the month prior; she had her cottons and silk rags prepared – though with her maid Jessop – for her trip. Her monthly bloods, if she were not pregnant, were likely to begin soon.
As they entered their suite – William holding open the white door, so that Georgiana could enter the room first – Georgiana rang the bell for Jessop and Hartley, so that they could change and prepare for their arrival in Queenstown, and later, luncheon. It felt tireless, almost cumbersome, to change so many times, though she enjoyed unwrapping each outfit nonetheless. Many of the passengers fawned over her clothing, as it illustrated her status, and she could not deny she relished the attention. Even among first, there were the truly wealthy, who could not imagine the infinite finances families like Georgiana’s were accustomed to.
Almost immediately after they entered their suite – as if Cecilia had been perched, waiting for the distinctive click the door wou
ld make as soon as returned – her sister emerged from the adjoining suite, quickly followed by Jessop and Hartley. Hartley was carrying a coffee and The Atlantic Bulletin, the ship’s small newspaper. After pouring William’s coffee, adding the appropriate cream and sugar, Hartley hugged the wall, waiting for his master’s next command. Jessop, on the other hand, brought with her chilled water, infused with a slice of lemon – something that was a morning ritual for Georgiana after she finished her meal breaking fast. Jessop, who was carrying a crystal jug and glasses on a silver platter, filled a glass of water and passed it to Georgiana, who drank heartily. Jessop then moved to Georgiana’s wardrobe, ready to select an outfit for the morning’s adventures, though she too remained silent, waiting for Georgiana’s command.
“Celia!” cried Georgiana, startled by her sister’s sudden resurgence.
“I need your help.”
“Of course you do.” Georgiana pointed to the white and gold dress that Jessop was currently holding, nodding affirmatively. Jessop laid the new dress on the chaise, and began undressing Georgiana.
“Georgiana, please,” William interrupted, peering over the top of his newspaper, appearing bored. “Let’s hear Cecilia out first. That would be the gracious thing for us to do, would it not?”
Georgiana shot William a glare; she loathed how he would sometimes reprimand her, as if she were a belligerent child and not his loving wife.
“Thank you, William,” Cecilia cried, wrapping her brother-in-law into a fierce hug. Hartley’s face remained blank, but Georgiana caught Jessop trying not to bite her lower lip, as if she were trying not to smile. While among most servants, such emotion would not be allowed, Georgiana didn’t mind. Jessop had been her most trusted confidante after her sister.
Jessop removed all of Georgiana’s outer clothes, including her breakfast corset, replacing it with a more formal one. Georgiana tried not to grunt as Jessop pulled tightly on the lace strings. The dress Jessop had chosen was designed not just to impress at luncheon – and any small meals in between – but to set out her position even amongst the wealthiest of passengers. Unfortunately, a large amount of the ship’s passengers were either American or new money, qualities that Georgiana rarely found tolerable, as both had a tendency for vulgarity.
So far, the exception had been the Astors, and even Maggie Brown, as they were agreeable company, with similar interests – and with Madeleine barely younger than Georgiana, it was nice having someone close to her age, especially when they had united in Cherbourg.
“What’s the matter, Celia?” Georgiana asked, this time her voice was far gentler and softer.
“Well,” Cecilia began, tugging at the beads on her dress. “I believe that Henry is likely to film our arrival in Queenstown.”
“Pray, what makes you believe that, and why does it matter to me?” Georgiana closed her eyes as Jessop began fitting her with a more formal dress: It was a gold and ivory silk dress, with intricate lace detailing. The underdress held an illuminating, soft golden glow, with a long golden lace bow falling stylishly down the right side of her body. Across the top, a white silk wrap was place around her body, before being held firmly in place by a matching golden lace waist sash. While her white stockings did not need to be changed, as they complemented her outfit perfectly, her heels did: Jessop selected matching satin gold heels, embroidered with diamonds that created a small flower at the toe.
“Because of his camera, of course,” Cecilia replied, her tone sincere and kind, though firm. “Henry will want to film the coast of Ireland, as well as the tender ships that will be transporting passengers to and from Ireland. There’ll be vendors, and it’s not like you’re not already planning to go up yourselves. You’re already planning yourself for the occasion. Anyway, yesterday some things were… left unsaid. I want the opportunity to change that.”
“And I thought we had decided that leaving things unsaid was for the best?” Georgiana inquired as she extended her arms for Jessop to help her with her long, white gloves.
“Georgiana, please don’t vex me, I beg of you.”
“I relent. Continue.” Cecilia was more wilful and progressive than Georgiana had ever been, even in her defiance against her parents’ wishes to marry the man she loved, not the man they had chosen for her, as they had with Eliana. It wasn’t an easy business: People like the Gresham family seldom had the luxury of something as trivial as love. They married for money, prestige, and aristocracy; nothing less. William was a Lord, and still, her parents had found reason to object him.
“Well, Mama and Papa would be terribly mad if I directly disobeyed them –”
“– Which, of course, is what you mean exactly to do.”
“– but if you and William were seeming to bump into Henry and make his acquaintance, under the guise of interest in his camera, then it could be different. Then, perhaps we could retire to the Verandah Café – still under the guise of your renewed interest in cine photography, of course – for light refreshments. That way, I can spend some time with Henry, while completely chaperoned. It’s a completely innocuous situation, and Mama and Papa cannot possibly object to it.”
Georgiana shared a look with William; he, too, could hear the infatuation, the desperation, the longing, that had inhabited and controlled her younger sister’s voice. She’s so much like me, Georgiana couldn’t help but reflect. So wilful.
She wanted nothing more than for Cecilia to have a similar match in life – a marriage of love, as opposed to one of convenience – yet she could not shake the feeling that Cecilia’s shipboard romance would be fleeting; it could not flourish beyond the confines of the ship. Her parents had barely accepted William, who came with titles, land, prestige and money; they would not care to know of someone who did not share those qualities.
Yet, despite all the obstacles Georgiana and William had faced during their early courtship, Cecilia had offered her unwavering support and loyalty, free from any judgement. Cecilia had even gone as far as to actively participate in her sister’s secret love tryst, vying for the hope that love would, indeed, overcome all.
Celia was her baby sister, and Georgiana owed her the courtesy of repaying her sister the same favour she had bestowed upon her, giving Cecilia the equal opportunity that she had given Georgiana and William. After all, their courtship wouldn’t have been possible – or at least, it wouldn’t have been easy – without Cecilia’s help.
Georgiana tried to reconcile herself with her sister’s path; after all, she had performed her elderly sister duties of warning her of the endless hurdles she would inevitably face, as well as the terrifying wrath she would suffer from her entire extended family if her affection were to intensify, Georgiana felt secure in the knowledge that she could safely perform the duties of a more loving sister. It would do Cecilia no good to hear judgement, when Eliana was far more suited at delivering it.
“Alright, then,” Georgiana relented as she twirled, admiring her reflection from the mirror attached to her wardrobe. “I suppose, at the very least, listening to Mr Henry’s tales will prove a jaunt.”
“You’ll not be a snob, will you, Georgie? You’re not like Mama or even Eliana, but sometimes, you can share their arrogance and entitlement like no other. It disturbs me, sometimes, when you morph into another person. I like this Georgie, not the one that’s aspiring to fill Eliana’s footsteps, should we need a second sister who also takes pleasure in the pain of others.”
Georgiana held up a hand to dismiss Jessop and Hartley, who quietly exited the room; before glancing in surprise at her sister. She resented that idea; had she become more like Eliana, without realising it? What had changed her so? She was the type of person who judged a man on his character, not his position. Or had that changed, too? Worst of all, had William noticed?
“Well, on that accord, Celia isn’t wrong, Georgie.”
Georgiana tried and failed to hide her hurt at her husband’s sentiment; there was truth to her sister’s words, whether or not she was willing
to acknowledge or accept it was another matter entirely.
“Well, it seems I have no choice and it appears I am overruled, though I do think it’s rather bad manners to encourage one’s own sister into bullying her.”
“Oh, Georgie, please. Spare us the dramatics. We’re making an acquaintance, not being forced into a house of ill-repute for unseemly women. No one’s asking anything unbecoming of you. It’s not like Celia’s declared she’s fallen in love with some steward she’s spied. It’s a common ailment among travelling women; particularly the slightly older ladies who haven’t had attention from their husbands for a few years, likely lamenting that an episode of the heart hasn’t taken their dearly beloved sooner.”
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