Queen of the Waves

by Janice Thompson

  “Certainly.” Nathan’s mother shook her fan in Tessa’s direction. “Put her in her place at once, before this goes one step further. Don’t allow her to speak to you as if her words carry weight. She’s a lady’s maid, for pity’s sake. Her behavior was unacceptable.”

  “I see.”

  “I would encourage you to dispense with any informalities you’ve grown accustomed to at home. This is, after all, the Titanic. Social etiquette rules still apply. And if you want to hold your head up in the presence of people like the Astors and Edith Russell, you must adapt with every opportunity presented to you.”

  “I see.”

  Mrs. Patterson leaned over and gave her a gentle pat on the arm. “I do hope you will forgive me if I’ve overstepped my bounds, Jacquie. I do feel, in your mother’s absence, of course, that I should offer such advice. Someone has to look out for you.”

  “I’m sure Mother would be very pleased to know that I am in such good hands.” Tessa bit her lip to keep from saying more. If Mrs. Patterson had any idea how things were at home, she would realize that no one cared one whit about Tessa’s well-being—not Mum, and certainly not Pa. And if Mum could see her daughter now, sitting like a peacock in a white wicker chair in the Café Parisien, she would probably hand her a broom and tell her to get busy cleaning the place.

  Only Peter cared, and he was back in London now, carving bushes into animals and trying to figure out what to do with the real Jacquie Abingdon.

  The real Jacquie Abingdon.

  For whatever reason, the words caused a painful sigh to rise up inside of Tessa. Thank goodness Mrs. Patterson was none the wiser. No, she was far too busy going on about Iris to notice a thing. From there, Nathan’s mother lit into a conversation about the Astors and then into a lengthy dissertation about Ida Strauss. Tessa couldn’t make much sense out of any of it.

  When the conversation shifted to the various authors onboard the ship, Tessa found herself wanting to doze off. Oh, if only she could pretend to be interested. But how—or why—would anyone care about books and such? It made no sense to her. And what did it matter if these writers penned mysteries or newspaper columns?

  Finally Mrs. Patterson stopped talking and gave her a tender glance. “Jacquie, I can tell that you are weary. You look as if you might fall asleep at a moment’s notice.”

  “I must confess, I am exhausted. Probably something to do with the lull of the ship.” She bit back a yawn and forced a smile.

  “Or perhaps because you laid awake all night fretting over the ugly things your lady’s maid said to you yesterday.” The woman leaned forward and pursed her lips. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “I did not sleep well last night.” She had spent nearly an hour fretting over Iris’s words but wouldn’t say so now. Let Mrs. Patterson think what she wanted.

  Tiny creases formed between the woman’s brows. “Do as I say. Send her packing. Don’t be bothered with her. Then you will sleep like a babe.”

  “No doubt I will.” Still, she couldn’t possibly send Iris packing. Where would she send her, anyway?

  Mrs. Patterson rose with a dramatic sigh. “Well, I should be going, anyway. There’s so much to do before dinner. I want to make a good impression on Edith Russell, you know.”

  “Ah.” Tessa cared nothing for such things, but the mention of Edith’s name did stir curiosity.

  “Why I care what that woman thinks is beyond me. Have you heard the story of what she’s done? She’s been carrying around a little stuffed pig as if it’s her baby. Strangest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

  As the word “pig” was spoken, Tessa’s thoughts went to Countess at once. The sting of tears followed.

  “Why a woman would attach herself to a pig is beyond me.” Mrs. Patterson sighed. “Oh well. I must be on my way. I must freshen up my makeup and make sure the steward sent my new silk gown to be pressed before this evening’s meal. Alas, a woman’s work is never done.”

  “You are so right.” Tessa rose, thinking the conversation had ended. Instead, Nathan’s mother began to talk about the agonies of constrictive undergarments and the woes of hair styling.

  In that moment, Tessa wondered what Mrs. Patterson would look like in the pig stall, chasing Countess hither, thither, and yon. The image made her smile. And then giggle.

  “Well, I’m happy to see I’ve cheered you up.” The older woman reached over to give her a warm embrace…so warm that Tessa found herself missing Mum. And Peter. And Countess.

  In that moment, her emotions flip-flopped and the giggles ended, now replaced with sadness. She pictured herself running across the gardens at Abingdon Manor in search of her brother. Imagined him drawing near and wrapping her in his arms. Felt his gentle kiss on her brow. Listened to his brotherly teasing.

  Determined not to cry, Tessa swallowed the lump in her throat, pressed back the sniffles that threatened to erupt, glanced over at Nathan’s mother, and forced the happiest smile she could muster.

  Friday Afternoon, April 12, 1912

  Aboard the Titanic

  Nathan spent the afternoon touring areas of the ship he had not yet seen and chatting with several workers onboard. Among his favorites was Herbert Pitman, Third Officer, who had been given the task of using celestial observations to chart Titanic’s position. The jovial fellow spent nearly an hour sharing an enthusiastic conversation with Nathan.

  Some time later, Nathan met up with the stoker he’d met the first day back in Southampton and had a short conversation with him.

  “How are things down below?” he asked.

  The fellow, black with soot, swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Hot, sir. Just sticking me head out fer a bit of air. Me shift just ended. Need to catch a wink ’r two before headin’ back.” His brow arched and concern laced his words. “We’ve had a rough go of it, to be honest. We’ve had a fire smolderin’ in the coal bunker off ’n’ on from the moment we set sail.”

  “Oh?” This certainly piqued Nathan’s interest. “Anything to worry about?”

  “No, just one more headache when we’re already battlin’ so many others.”

  “Others?”

  With a wave of the hand, the fellow mumbled something indistinguishable. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he said after a moment. “Just a bit put off by the lousy coal they’ve given us. Not what I would’ve chosen, for sure. But I suppose with the strike only just endin’, we’ll take what we can get, right?”

  For whatever reason, the words “take what we can get” did not settle well with Nathan. He pressed them to the back of his mind, determined not to worry. Still, he managed to respond with “Right,” and even offered a nod afterward.

  After bidding the fellow a good day, Nathan continued his perusal of the ship in search of one room in particular. Finally he arrived at the stateroom he’d been searching for on A Deck. He knocked on the door and waited until someone answered.

  A lady’s maid opened the door, and he asked to speak to Miss Edith Russell.

  “Is she expecting you?” the young woman asked.

  “No.” Still, he hoped she would see him, regardless.

  “She is in E-19, doing inventory of some of the clothes in her new line. You will find her there, but don’t expect her to be in a pleasant frame of mind. She’s, well…” The lady’s maid shifted her gaze. “She’s had a rough go of it, of late.”

  “Ah. Well, I will approach with care.”

  And that’s exactly what he did. Nathan took the elevator to E Deck and made his way to E-19, where he spoke with Miss Russell at length, finally convincing her to meet Iris in person. Doing so would endear Iris to both Jacquie and Nathan, or so he hoped. They would discuss the plan tonight at dinner, with Edith and Jacquie putting their heads together to come up with a plan.

  He only prayed that Iris would forego her sullen ways when she finally met with Miss Russell in person. Hopefully Iris would say nothing about the little stuffed pig Miss Russell seemed so attached to. One could hope, anywa
y.

  As he left the stateroom, Nathan’s thoughts shifted, for whatever reason, to James Carson’s job offer. Something about it still felt odd. Contrived. Why it continued to nag at him, he could not say. Still, he would pay closer attention to the fellow to solve the riddle…if, indeed, there was a riddle to be solved.

  In the meantime, he would head back to his cabin to dress for dinner. There, with Jacquie Abingdon seated beside him, all would be well.

  Friday Evening, April 12, 1912

  The Willingham Hotel, Southampton, England

  A rap on the door aroused Jacquie from a light, tearful sleep. A dream, which had pierced her heart, faded away as she came fully awake.

  Jacquie dried her eyes and glanced in the mirror, appalled at the reflection that stared back at her. The knocking continued, and she tried to gather her wits about her. Was it the bellman, perhaps? Worse yet, had her father located her? Figured out her scheme? She shivered, in part because the temperature in the room had dropped and in part because she found herself unnerved by the constant rapping.

  She took a couple of tentative steps toward the door and leaned her ear against it as she called out, “Who’s there?”

  Only when she heard Peter’s familiar voice did she reach for the handle to fling the door open.

  Chapter Twenty

  Saturday Morning, April 13, 1912

  Aboard the Titanic

  For whatever reason, Tessa found it very difficult to sleep on Friday night. She kept replaying Mrs. Patterson’s words about Iris in her mind. Also, the excitement at dinner kept her thoughts tumbling. What a fascinating woman Edith Russell had turned out to be. And how kind of her to agree to meet with Iris. Tessa could hardly wait to hear what became of that.

  When she rose earlier than usual on Saturday morning, Tessa found that a cold chill had gripped the air. Shivering, she reached for her robe. Or, rather, Jacquie’s robe. For a moment she contemplated visiting the Turkish bath. Perhaps there she could shake off the icy feeling that now held her in its grip. Instead, she decided to take an early breakfast in the dining saloon.

  She did her best to fasten her own corset strings without Iris, who slept soundly in the next room. Then she slipped on the simplest dress available, left her hair hanging in soft curls over her shoulders, and made the walk to the dining hall. As she landed on the Grand Stairway, the early morning rays peeked through the dome. She glanced up, mesmerized by the colors as the light hit the brass fixtures. For whatever reason, the dazzling rainbowlike display brought her hope. Strange. She’d been without it for so long, she scarcely recognized it now. Oh, if only this feeling would last!

  When Tessa arrived in the dining hall, she found her usual table filled. Instead of taking a seat, she opted to take a caramel Danish from the buffet. Wrapping it in a napkin, she carried it out to the reception area and took a few bites. Moments later, still haunted by the conversation with Mrs. Patterson, Tessa wound her way through the hallway to the library. She tucked the Danish in her reticule and walked the perimeter of the library, wishing she knew more about books. Hadn’t Nathan’s mother gone on and on about the various authors onboard? Maybe Tessa should read one of their books.

  From across the room she caught a glimpse of a young woman about her same age. The warm smile emanating from the girl put her at ease right away.

  “Are you looking for something in particular?” The young woman rose. “Maybe I could help you. I’ve spent a lot of hours here since we set sail.”

  “I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for,” Tessa said. “I usually read fanciful novels. But maybe…” She tried to remember what Mrs. Patterson had said. “Maybe a mystery?”

  “Ah. Mysteries.” The woman’s brows arched. “I love them… perhaps because life is such a mystery.” She perused the shelves, finally landing on a book with a red cover. Tessa glanced down at it and read the title: THE DIAMOND MASTER.

  “Yes, this will do.”

  “The library is quiet this time of morning,” the young woman said. “Just have a seat anywhere you like. Oh, I suppose we should make introductions. It’s so nice to meet you, Miss—”

  “T—Jacquie Abingdon.”

  “Jacquie. Beautiful name. Very similar to my own. I’m Jessie, by the way. Jessie Leitch.” A genuine smile followed from the young woman. She pointed to a little girl who sat at a nearby table reading a picture book. “And this is Annie, my little cousin.”

  “Nice to meet you. And Annie…” Tessa turned her attention to the child. “Good to meet you, as well.”

  As Tessa settled into a plush chair, she took a peek at Jessie. By the standards of many onboard, the woman probably appeared plain. Ordinary. The traveling dress might not be of the latest fashion, but it was clean and pressed, the deep burgundy still rich in color. And the hat would not impress Iris, to be sure. But Jessie’s eyes sparkled with a vivaciousness that most did not possess. They emanated beauty of a different sort.

  After a few moments of pretending to read the dull book, Tessa glanced up. She hated to break the silence in the room but decided to do so anyway. “Are you traveling alone?” she asked.

  Jessie glanced up from her book. “No. We’re traveling with my uncle, John Harper. Do you know him?”

  “Know him?” Tessa shook her head. “No. Should I?” A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about the possibilities of someone finding out who she really was.

  “He’s a pastor in London. Quite well-known, so I thought perhaps you had heard of him.”

  “I’m sorry. I have not.”

  “Ah. Well, Annie here is his daughter. We’re traveling to Chicago because my uncle has been asked to take the pulpit at Moody Church for several weeks.” Jessie glanced toward the door. “We’re expecting him at any moment. In fact, I felt sure he would be here by now. He spends many hours in the library studying for his sermons.”

  “I see.” Tessa turned her attention back to her book. Or, rather, pretended to. She couldn’t make heads or tails out of the story. She pulled her jacket a bit tighter, feeling a chill.

  Jessie glanced her way and smiled. “I hear it’s going to be even colder tomorrow.”

  “Yes.” A ripple of concern washed over Tessa. “I’ve heard talk of icebergs.”

  With a wave of a hand, Jessie appeared to dismiss that idea. “I believe we’re traveling south of the danger zone. That’s my understanding, anyway. But don’t fret. This is the Titanic. Uncle John says she could melt an iceberg with a glance.”

  Funny, how those words made Tessa think of Nathan. Hadn’t one look at his handsome face melted her heart? She pressed back a giggle and tried to stay focused.

  Jessie closed her book and shifted her position. “They call Titanic a floating palace, you know. It’s Versailles and Buckingham all rolled into one.”

  “With even more interesting characters residing therein.” Tessa giggled. “Have you ever seen such an assortment of people in one place? I feel as if all the world has converged on one ship. All of mankind is represented.”

  “Each in his own level, I daresay. The separation of classes frustrates me.” Jessie’s nose wrinkled. “That’s why I’m enjoying my time in the library. The class distinctions aren’t such an issue here. People in every class love a good book, and there are no walls to divide them between the pages.” She offered a smile.

  “True.”

  “Have you taken a look about the lower decks?” Jessie asked. “Quite a different world, I assure you.”

  Tessa shook her head. She had been born on a lower deck, so to speak, but deception had elevated her to B Deck in a hurry. Not that she truly belonged here. No, she would likely be at home with those who danced and sang below. Her people, as it were.

  “I met a fellow from Amsterdam this morning,” Jessie said. “And some from Slovenia and the like. Honestly, they’re all wonderful people, filled with dreams of a new life. God’s people, all in one place, like a big family. I really must look at this adventure as a blessing
. We weren’t even supposed to be on this ship. We have the coal strike to thank for it.”

  “A happy problem, I daresay.” Tessa offered her a warm smile.

  A tall, stately fellow entered the room, interrupting their conversation. Tessa took one look at him and her breath caught in her throat. She recognized him as the man who had rescued her purse that first day as she had boarded the ship.

  Tessa watched as Annie closed her picture book and rushed to his side, giving him a hug around the waist. “Papa!”

  “Hello, my angel.” He glanced Jessie’s way and smiled. “Has my little doll been behaving herself?”

  “For the most part.” Jessie grinned then gestured to Tessa. “Uncle John, this is my new friend, Jacquie. Jacquie, this is my uncle, the Reverend John Harper.”

  Jessie rose and Tessa joined her, placing her book on the side table. She gazed into the kind eyes of the reverend and nodded. “I remember you, sir. You’re the nice man who fetched my purse for me when I dropped it.”

  “Ah, yes.” He flashed a welcoming smile. “As I recall, I bumped into you and knocked it out of your hand, and for that I do apologize. But I was happy to retrieve it for you, Miss…”

  “Jacquie. I’m Jacquie Abingdon.”

  “Abingdon.” His brow furrowed. “Have you ever attended Walworth Road Baptist Church in London?”

  “I—I don’t believe so, sir.” Her heart fluttered to her throat.

  “Strange. I felt sure I knew the name.” His brow creased. “Then again, Abingdon is a popular name in London, is it not?”

  “Yes. Indeed.” A wave of relief washed over Tessa. “But all the more reason for me to thank you. You came to the rescue of a total stranger, and in the middle of a rather chaotic situation, I daresay.”

  “Uncle John is a good man to have around in a sticky spot,” Jessie said and then chuckled. “At least that’s what I always say.”

  “With so many pickpockets about, I wondered if I would ever see my reticule again.”