by Jina Bacarr
Taking small steps, together the two women carried the countess’s lifeless body up the stairs, then down the corridor and into a cabin unoccupied during the crossing, then put her down on the bed.
‘She’ll be at rest here,’ the stewardess said, blowing out her breath. She covered the countess with rose silk bedding up to her chin.
She lay in peace.
Ava blessed herself and said a prayer, then shook off the chill invading the room. When she dug her gloved hands into her pockets, she found the letter she’d never posted for the countess, a folded-up dinner menu, and—
‘Holy Mary… I’d almost forgotten.’ She pulled out a small silken bundle.
The earrings.
She bit her lower lip, and then unwrapped them. Hurt spilled through her heart with such a sharp poignancy her chest tightened and stifled her breathing. Ava closed her eyes tightly and heard the countess’s words in her head.
I promised my father I would wear my mother’s earrings on my wedding day.
When Ava opened her eyes, her gaze was fixed on the ruby and diamond earrings. They barely sparkled. How could they? The countess’s vibrancy and love of life was what had made them glow with such beauty.
No gentle breeze nor brilliant sunlight would ever stir her ladyship’s poetic soul again. Somehow Ava knew wearing the earrings on her way to heaven would heal her spirit.
Without a word, she fastened the earrings in the countess’s ears. The drop earrings lay on the soft pillow, as if protecting her on her journey.
The stewardess ushered Ava out of the cabin then locked the door behind them. ‘You must get to the lifeboats without delay.’
‘Not until I find his lordship,’ Ava said in a firm voice. ‘I can’t leave him.’
‘You must. He’s a gentleman and he knows what his chances are. He’d want you to save yourself. Now hurry.’
Ava turned to the stewardess. ‘What about you?’
‘Don’t worry about me.’ She managed a smile, but she was wiping the sweat from her face with her apron as though her heart fluttered with uncertainty. The knowing look in her eye made her uneasy when she said, ‘Good luck to you, Ava O’Reilly.’
Then she was gone.
Ava owed the stewardess more than she could ever repay her and she would if it came to that. She had the feeling the story was not finished. For now, she must take it one step at a time.
She raced up the stairs to the Boat Deck and out into the cold night. Suddenly everything around her seemed different. Frantic, unsettled. As if she was coming undone. She didn’t know which way to turn, here… no, there.
Tears blurred her vision. Losing the countess had disturbed her more than she thought possible. Left a gaping hole in her no holy thought nor prayer could mend.
Blessed Virgin, tell me, please, what was He about? It was cruel to take her and leave me. You’ll get no more tears from me. I’ll not leave this ship until I find Buck.
I owe it to her.
The countess.
1.45 a.m.
With the Irish girls taken care of, Buck headed toward the boats near the bow of the ship where he’d left Ava and the countess. He was so intent on his purpose he almost didn’t see a woman waving frantically to him from a lifeboat being lowered on the starboard side. Calling out to him, moving her arms to and fro in wild gestures.
He sensed her desperation. Mr Murdoch yelled at her to sit down.
The woman sat down, and then popped up again. Calling out to him.
Was it the countess? No. It wasn’t her demeanor. Then it had to be Ava. He’d left her with the countess waiting to be loaded into a boat on the port side. What the hell happened? If it was her, why was she still on board?
What is the fool girl up to now?
Worrying about her had become more important to him than anything else. If he didn’t survive, who would watch out for her? That bothered him more than he cared to admit. With Ava, every damn thing she did affected him.
His eyes narrowed. By God, he couldn’t make out what the woman was saying. The ship was settling rapidly in the bow, causing panic to spread among the passengers left on deck. Then he saw a flash when a ship’s officer fired his gun as a warning, startling the crowd when men from steerage tried to jump into the lifeboat. That quieted them.
Not for long. Their high-pitched cries again filled the air.
Wiping sweat from his face with his jacket sleeve, Buck reached deep into his pocket and his fingers wrapped around his pistol. It was water damaged, but it would frighten off any lout who blocked his way. As a gambler who’d most likely played his last hand, he recognized the smell of human fear. It was more prevalent than the smell of ice.
He fought through the crowd to where they were lowering the boat and leaned over the rail. It was impossible to see into the boat, but it had to be Ava yelling at him. The crew had no experience lowering the boats and they went down over the side in uneven, jerky movements.
Seawater splashed against the hull and onto the decks below. He estimated the Boat Deck was about twenty feet above the waterline instead of seventy. He could see the woman yelling at him, standing up in the lifeboat bouncing back and forth as it was lowered down.
Then she lost her balance. She screamed as she pitched forward but a quick-thinking steward reached out and pulled her back into the boat. She collapsed in his arms.
Damnation, was it Ava?
If she’d fallen overboard, he’d dive in after her. He’d rather go down to the bottom of the sea with her than live without her.
And where was the countess? And Trey?
He didn’t see his old friend anywhere. He was never sure about Trey’s loyalty to any woman, but he possessed an unbending sense of fraternity toward Buck. He could depend on him to act in a gentlemanly manner.
And take care of the two women.
He prayed Trey was in that lifeboat with them.
His eyes burned from staring at her so hard. He had to make certain it was her before the seamen rowed away from the ship. If they were lucky, the ship would last long enough between the time of the collision and the sinking to avoid dragging the lifeboats down with it.
If they were lucky.
Never before had Buck had the urge to cheat death as skillfully as he won at cards.
‘What the devil was that crazed woman doing?’ he heard a gentleman say nearby, shaking his head.
‘She’s not the only female forced to leave her husband,’ added another man.
‘I heard that boat was filled with cabin crew members.’
Buck froze. The words set off a bell in his head. He squinted, but he could barely see the passengers huddled together in one dark silhouette. No moon overhead, but the lights were still burning on the lower decks. When the lifeboat passed by the open portholes, he could see the woman’s face.
He let out his breath, surprised.
It wasn’t Ava, but Marta Sinclair. The stewardess.
Why did she risk her life to call out to him?
‘Buck!’ he heard a voice behind him cry out. He spun around. It was Trey.
‘Damn it all, Trey, where the hell have you been?’
Trey wasn’t interested in answering his question when he had his own on his mind. ‘Where is the countess?’ he blurted out. ‘And Ava?’
‘Aren’t they in a lifeboat?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Trey said.
Buck gritted his teeth and fought against the unexpected kick to his gut. He felt a stab of guilt for not making certain they’d gotten into a boat, but he’d made Ava a promise to save the Irish girls and he’d kept it.
‘Where did you leave them?’ he wanted to know.
‘In the gymnasium. When I returned, they were gone.’
‘Bloody hell…’
Had the stewardess seen them? Was that what the woman was trying to tell him? Buck took charge. ‘When was that?’
‘Half an hour ago.’
‘Did you check the countess’s stateroom?’
>
‘Yes. It was empty.’
He looked at Trey. He was doing his best to act calm, but he wasn’t hiding his apprehension well. Neither was Buck. He clenched his fists, digging his fingers into his palms until they hurt.
‘I’m worried, Buck,’ Trey continued. ‘I can’t find anyone who saw the countess and her lady’s maid get into a lifeboat.’
‘Dear God,’ he said under his breath.
1.50 a.m.
Ava strode up the open deck past the empty davits, the lifeboats now gone. She paid no attention to the gentlemen standing idly around borrowing matches from each other and smoking. She ignored their curious stares. She had one thing on her mind.
Find Buck.
There was no time to wish things could have been different. No words to express the scattered images and warm memories that fed her soul.
Ava stood at the rail and stared down at the ice-covered water below. She could feel the chill of death in the air. More than two hours had passed since the ship hit the iceberg. Where was Buck… and Mr Brady? Surely she had time to find his lordship. She’d say nothing to him about the countess, instead allowing him to believe she was safe in a lifeboat.
Why bring such sorrow upon him when she had not yet found the courage to accept it?
If they survived, he’d have to know.
If they didn’t…
‘Here’s another woman for the lifeboat,’ someone called out behind her, then grabbed her roughly around the waist, lifting her up like she was a sack of mail. Fear gripped her. Who was this madman who’d made up his mind she was ripe for saving?
She twisted her neck and saw a seaman. His cold breath hung in the air, his eyes tinged with blue shadows, his patience worn thin by women refusing to get into the boats.
‘Holy Mary, you’ll not put your hands on me,’ Ava yelled.
‘For God’s sake, madam, we’ve got to get this boat away.’
‘Take your bloody mitts off me. I’ll not go.’
Spouting off like a wild banshee, are you, Ava O’Reilly? No doubt you’re no first cabin lady with a mouth on you like that.
‘Don’t give me no trouble, madam,’ said the seaman.
Ava struggled in his arms, her heart pounding, then sweet Jesus, the unbelievable shot before her eyes.
Mr Moody was headed her way.
A brave young officer he was and devoted to duty. He’d send her back down below to wait her turn.
She’d never see Buck again.
‘Put me down,’ she hissed at the seaman. Then with a swift kick to his knee, she broke free from the man’s hold with determination more than strength.
Ava took off, racing down the wooden deck and pushing through the passengers. She could see Mr Moody looking on, then he shook his head and joined the men trying to launch the two collapsible boats.
He didn’t recognize her wearing the countess’s coat.
Blessing herself, Ava scurried down the narrow iron stairs leading to the Promenade Deck, praying her courage hadn’t deserted her. Someone must have seen Buck.
She skidded to a stop, her chest heaving. There, that ship’s officer loading the lifeboat. One foot in the boat he had, the other on the open square window ledge. Deck chairs laid against the rail became steps to the sill. Then into the dark the women went and the waiting boat hanging alongside the deck.
Not an easy task. The ship was listing heavily.
She had a vivid memory of seeing him before. Yes, with Buck after she left the Turkish baths.
Ask him, will you?
She stood still, her heart pounding, then pushed herself forward, suddenly possessed by a daring that surprised her.
‘Have you seen Captain Lord Blackthorn?’ she breathed in a low voice.
Ava looked at him, waiting.
‘No, your ladyship,’ the ship’s officer said politely, then ordered a boy of about thirteen out of the boat until his father convinced him to let him stay.
Were her ears tricking her? What did he call her?
She turned to the gentleman assisting him. ‘Who is that officer?’ she forced out the words, her voice barely a whisper.
‘Mr Lightoller,’ said the man, an American by his accent.
She shook her head. The name meant nothing to her.
Before she could say anything, the ship’s officer turned his attention back to her.
‘Please, your ladyship, you must get into a lifeboat.’
Ava was stunned. This time there was no mistake. Twice he’d addressed her as your ladyship.
She asked, ‘What did you call me?’
‘Why, you’re the Countess of Marbury,’ he said, his words catching the interest of a lady waiting to get into a lifeboat. ‘His lordship told me who you were when I saw you with him on C Deck.’
I was wearing the countess’s coat that day.
‘He spoke very highly of you, Countess. Hurry, this boat must be lowered away immediately.’
‘I’m not… I mean…’
Would you shut your mouth, girl? The ship’s officer believes you’re the countess. His lordship was keeping you safe when the man saw you racing down the corridor like a crazy fool. He believed no one would be the wiser once you reached New York. Sticking his neck out for you, he was.
This is how you repay him?
Crying like a spoilt child?
Get into the boat before the devil himself tosses you into the cold, black sea. Then you’ll be cast off like a shiny pearl sinking to the sandy bottom. Lost forever.
Or you can live.
If you pretend to be the countess.
Ava let the idea flow over her like a perfumed oil, appealing and seductive. Her mum used to say that hidden somewhere in her was the essence of a fine pearl.
That someday Ava would find it and it would bedevil her.
She scoffed at that. She’d once thought of her ladyship as a perfect pearl. A gentle lady taken by fate. She’d never get away with pretending to be the countess.
You have to, girl.
You owe it to the countess and his lordship to get into that lifeboat.
The tension around the boats quickened when a seaman shouted to Mr Lightoller that several men had rushed another lifeboat. In a flash, the ship’s officer jumped aside and threatened to shoot them if they didn’t let the women and children into the boat.
Ava didn’t wait to see what happened next. She pulled up the velvet collar on the countess’s coat and looked for a way out. She’d never be able to look Buck full in the face if she didn’t keep searching for him and Mr Brady.
‘His lordship will have my job,’ Mr Lightoller said, grabbing her arm, ‘if I don’t get you into this boat, Countess.’
‘No—’
‘In you go.’ Mr Lightoller was in no mood to listen to Ava’s protests. He shoved her through the open window and dropped her into the last wooden lifeboat on the ship.
Only the collapsible boats remained, she heard him say.
Her heart jumped into her throat as they lowered the boat past the other decks all lit up, every porthole blazing with light. Bumping up and down, foot by foot, the sea on one side, the black hull of the ship on the other. It was so close to her nose she could run her fingers over its wet sheen.
An eerie fascination took hold of her, the liner tilting downward toward the bow.
The sea was barely fifteen feet below A Deck.
When the lifeboat hit the water, the slosh of the sea crashing against the sides of the boat grated on her nerves.
She didn’t want to leave Buck. She wouldn’t give up hoping she’d see him on deck.
Ava jumped up, scanning the frantic passengers leaning over the rail. She heard the ship’s officer order the quartermaster to take charge, telling him to stand by while the other boats rowed away.
‘Sit down, Countess,’ ordered the quartermaster, ‘or you may lose your balance.’
Embarrassed, Ava sat down, but the damage had been done. She could feel the curious stares on her fr
om the women in the boat.
First cabin ladies, she guessed by their upturned noses and fancy manners.
Immediately she heard them whispering to each other.
It must be her.
Who?
The Countess of Marbury.
Are you sure?
Yes, I heard the ship’s officer say so.
Ava lowered her head. Was there no getting away from it? The voices had warned her and now it had come to pass.
The devil had found her.
Ava O’Reilly was no more.
This was to be her private hell. To have what she’d always dreamed.
To be a lady.
But lose the only man she’d ever love.
28
Finding Ava proved to be more difficult and exhausting than Buck had imagined. He fought to make his way along the Boat Deck, seawater sloshing over the decks, passengers running like scared rats toward the stern. All this while the Titanic’s musicians played a lively waltz to prevent panic and keep the mood upbeat.
He shivered, but not from his wet clothes. Stiff with cold, soaked to the skin, he knew the end was near.
He looked down over the rail and estimated the water was less than ten feet from the deck below. How much time did he have left? Word was the engine room was filled up to the boilers and she was going down fast.
And still no sign of Ava.
He slammed his fist so hard into the railing it cracked the wood. He couldn’t bear the result of his search. Wanting so desperately to find this woman, yet he was at his wit’s end where to look next.
A cover of semi-darkness hovering over the deck did nothing to help him in his search, not to mention the damn number of ventilators and staterooms limiting his ability to see more than several feet in front of him.
Where the hell was she?
Somehow, he didn’t believe Ava would risk the countess’s life by not getting her into a lifeboat. Still, no one had seen the two women get away and for that reason he couldn’t give up looking for them.