“Mummy is grumpy,” Master Albert howled.
“Sssh, she’s just tired and unwell, is all,” Eleonora cooed, kissing the boy’s forehead. “I know you’re sleepy, Albie darling, but it’s going to be an adventure. And when we’re on the adventure, I need you to be a big, brave boy and hold Primrose’s hand the entire time. You know that boys are braver than girls, don’t you?”
Master Albert nodded solemnly. “Yes. Prim gets scared of bugs.” The child said this with such determination, Georgiana couldn’t help but smile. Soon, I’ll have one of my own, she vowed, her hand tracing her womb that she sorely hoped wasn’t empty.
“Yes, she does, doesn’t she?” Eleonora replied. “So, I need you to be really brave and hold Primrose’s hand. The whole time. Because while you won’t get scared, because you’re too brave, Prim might.” Albert nodded at his grandmother with glee. Georgiana watched in marvel; Primrose didn’t appear too perplexed by the matter – she was standing in the corner, clutching her porcelain doll, still looking dazed and confused, but it was Albert that appeared scared, his face a whitish-grey.
Now, Albert was tasked with caring for his sister’s safety, he’d forgotten why he had ever been upset about in the first place. He waddled over to Primrose’s side, and clasped her hand as tightly as he could, his little chubby fingers wrapping around Primrose’s small, delicate hand. Georgiana wished she could take a photo of the pair; the sight made her heart ache.
“Let us move up to the Boat Deck.” Albert interrupted gruffly, throwing his hands in the air.
“Where is Cecilia?” Eliana queried, searching the room the moment she entered.
“Disappeared,” Albert replied, and Eleonora shot her husband a glance.
“We’re hoping she heard the commotion, and her curiosity sent her to the Boat Deck. A few passengers have been excited about the collision, or near collision. You know what Celia’s like.”
Eliana raised her eyebrows but did not respond to her mother’s statement. Perhaps she’s worried, mused Georgiana, though she wondered why. Eliana hadn’t shown any care for anyone bar herself the entire voyage. Why would that change now? Georgiana didn’t know what made her sister bitter so, but she had long grown impatient at Eliana’s antics – especially since she’d recently directed her hatefulness towards Celia.
“Well, let’s make our way above,” Albert said, sounding annoyed. “I wonder what the men are up to. Colonel Gracie and Major Peuchen likely know what the situation is. With any luck, they would have talked to Andrews, if not the Captain. I think one of them is friends with the American president.”
“That’s Major Butt, Albert,” George replied, and Georgiana couldn’t help wondering why the man was smiling. Albert hated to be corrected, and it was not as if George was a favourite son-in-law of his. Though, considering his options, Georgiana mused, he was likely the favourite by default.
“I don’t know if that’s true, George,” Albert said, his smile baring his teeth, not meeting his eyes. George had the good sense not to try and correct Albert a second time. Georgiana knew that George was correct; Jack Astor was friends with Major Butt, with the two sometimes swimming together or playing squash matches. He’d mentioned how the American president was quite fond of Major Archie Butt, though Georgiana could not remember why. She wondered if it had something to do with the treacherous civil war the Americans had endured; most of the Americans had participated in it, in some form or other.
Eleonora smiled with relief; Eliana bore an aggrieved look; Georgiana felt incensed; the men looked as if they would have interesting tales to regale by the morning, smiling and clapping each other’s backs, as if they’d just survived some harrowing feat.
Chapter Thirty-One
Monday, April 15th, 1912
Claire
“I have us a way up, Claire. To the lifeboats. Where’s Mrs Coffey? Why isn’t she with you?”
“She’s not here yet,” Claire replied, for Isla’s benefit, before whispering, “I don’t know. I kept getting lost – there’s so many twists and turns, Cillian, and I was so terrified. I didn’t think I would be able to get out of there. I tried asking a steward for help, but he just kept saying to follow the signs, but it wasn’t clear, and some of the gates were still locked, Cillian. I don’t even know where we are.” She murmured tearfully, and he embraced her in a hug. Wiping her tears, she glanced around the small crowd. Some of the third-class passengers, when they’d been unable to initially get up to the boat deck, had either sat on their luggage in the hallways, waiting, or had returned to their rooms. Claire was pretty sure the Haas family hadn’t left theirs. She tried to let the thought comfort her; the Captain wouldn’t let passengers return to bed, or keep them below, if there was any real danger. If the ship were to be sinking, properly, there would be a managed safety procedure, wouldn’t there? “Where are we, Cillian?”
He smiled. “We’re waiting for a steward, a Mr John Hart. He’s already taken one group of passengers above; he’s returning to collect the rest of us. That’s why there’s a few of us milling here.”
“The rest of us?” there were around fifteen people milling around, and while Claire sincerely hoped that number increased before the steward returned, she doubted that ‘the rest of us’ meant all the steerage passengers. Though, if Claire was sure and true, it wasn’t like the passengers around her showed any form of malaise. The thought helped soothe her; while she could feel the list of the ship, and Cillian had talked of the ship sinking, perhaps he’d been too panicked. The ship felt sturdy still, and no one seemed to be causing a great fuss. Some of the passengers had taken to sitting on top of their luggage chests, not interested in joining John Hart and the others. Claire felt the ease of the other passengers’ calm wash over her, calming her greatly.
Cillian, understanding Claire’s meaning, shrugged. “He’s doing what he can. Whoever is here, he’ll assist above, making sure we don’t get lost. He’s helping the first group right now, making sure they get into lifeboats.”
“How do we know he’ll come back?”
“Because he swore it,” Cillian said. “The first group was much larger. He’s been gone a while; possibly nearing half an hour. I expect he’ll be back soon.”
Claire nodded.
She just hoped Adene would join them soon, too.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Monday, April 15th, 1912
Cecilia
While the floor of B Deck had been mostly still and quiet – though Cecilia had spied Mrs Ryseron in the corridor, though she wasn’t surprised; Mrs Ryseron hadn’t slept well through the night the entire journey, roused by grief, yearning the loss of her son – by the time Cecilia had reached halfway between C and D Deck, there was a lot more commotion, and several passengers were lining up against the elevators. Cecilia ignored them, following the grand staircase to D Deck, where a beautiful French tapestry hung above beautiful floral lounge sets. Cecilia saw Andrews, whose brow was furrowed and eyes wide, take the stairs to E Deck, likely heading for the squash courts, though Cecilia wondered what could draw him down there. She could tell by the rise in officers heading below, and the stewards who were knocking abruptly on passengers’ doors, asking them to rise and hurry to the boat deck immediately, that there was something different about what had happened, though she didn’t quite understand what. It wasn’t like ships routinely sank, and the Titanic had only collided with a bit of ice. Ice didn’t sink ships. Cecilia couldn’t think of a time where a ship had ever been damaged by ice. Even when the Olympic collided with the Hawke, Olympic stayed afloat. She was even able to make it back to port on her own volition. Titanic was supposedly grander than her sister ship, with more advanced technology. She wondered why there was so much concern for something so insignificant. “Dress warmly, please,” the stewards would say, offering the help to those that requested or required it, before moving onto the next cabin. Occasionally, they would be called in to assist some of the passengers who needed changing.
Cecilia felt panic seize her heart; she had been on many a ship to know a lifeboat drill; yet there was something different down here, in the air, as she moved closer to Henry’s cabin, in the bow, past the first-class dining saloon, a place Cecilia realised she’d never really properly laid eyes on, partially set for the morrow’s breakfast. Despite the fact that the sight should have calmed her, it didn’t; it was as if she could feel it, whatever it was, gripping at her skin, telling her something was wrong. Cecilia tried to convince herself the malaise came from the lull of the ship’s engines, which seemed to provide much-needed solace through the journey, combined with the list she felt when she’d started walking down the staircase, though her skin did not believe her. Raised hair and goose bubbles filled her arms, and she realised, without her gloves – she hadn’t thought to grab any in her haste – she felt naked, as if she’d left an essential part of herself behind in her suite. When Cecilia reached the D Deck reception room, the list more pronounced than it had originally been, passengers were milling about; some looked bewildered and puzzled, though most were chattering passionately, obviously finding interest in the ship’s catastrophe. Cecilia wondered why they did not feel the panic she did; in the time it took her to walk the two flights of stairs – the elevators were out of order, for some reason, though the bellhop would not explain – the ship had developed a sudden slant, tilting port. Cecilia couldn’t be sure when she first noticed it, but now that she had, it seemed painfully obvious, especially when heading toward the bow, where Henry’s room was located. It was as if she were suddenly walking downhill. While Cecilia was not foolish enough to suppose they were in any real danger – it was the Titanic after all – it disconcerted her. She didn’t know anything about ships, but she knew enough to know that the fact that she was suddenly walking downhill, the slant more pronounced in the bow, and perhaps a touch to the right, as if the ship were being pulled down port, wasn’t usual.
Nor did it seem likely to be conducive to the ship’s longevity.
You know nothing of boats, she told herself for the umpteenth time, though it did nothing to still her nerves. She looked forward to meeting with Henry, who she hoped would envelope her in his arms, whispering in her ear that she was safe, that he would protect her, that he would not allow anything to bring harm to her.
Cecilia stopped, listening momentarily as a steward was instructing the passengers to don life jackets, wearing warm clothing, and move towards the gymnasium or the lounge that the Captain had ordered open, though she noticed a lot of passengers concerned with the jewels they’d left with the purser. Several families were arguing about whether it was worth it or not, and Cecilia knew that the line at the Purser’s office was long already. She’d seen it as she descended the grand staircase from C to D deck. Surely they could easily collect them in the morning, when all was well again? Cecilia, despite being born into wealth, oft found herself confounded by the way wealth led their lives. She knew those who were hurriedly trying to collect their possessions from the purser was not because they believed in the ship’s fallibility, but because it was another way for them to parade their wealth among each other.
Cecilia oft detested the wealthy. She did not find it noble that people judged each other on the wealth they carried – though she had learnt that not even all the money in the world could save people from scrutiny. She did not have to look far for an example; Georgie’s acquaintances, Jack and Madeleine, had mostly been shunned throughout the ship’s journey so far. While Cecilia could not be certain, she was by and sure Jack Astor’s wealth matched her father’s, if not surpassed it. Then there was Maggie, who was not divorced but separated from her husband, her suffragette ideals causing commotion among others. Albert had seemed to take personal offence to Maggie Brown’s demeanour, though that had only caused Cecilia to admire Maggie more. It wasn’t easy to get under Albert’s skin and remained unbothered; Maggie seemed to be able to do both with ease.
Waiting for the steward to pass through the small corridor, so as to not be noticed, she remained a moment before spying Milton Long’s room, who she knew was in the berth next to Henry’s; all sounded either empty or quiet, and no one appeared to be in the tight hallway. Cecilia knocked rapidly on Henry’s door, and then anxious from being spied, promptly opened the door, not waiting for Henry’s permission, and slipped into the dark cabin.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Monday, April 15th, 1912
Eliana
Eliana refused to leave the warmth of the gymnasium, even though the officers were trying to convince people to start heading to the lifeboats. Not only was outside terribly cold – unreasonably so for April, she thought indignantly – it was deafening. For some reason, they were releasing a lot of steam through the funnels, which caused a dreadful ringing in her eyes, and had caused little Albert to cry needlessly. Eliana loved Albert, but he was always a bit needy. Eliana was grateful when Nanny had picked him up, comforting him. While she wouldn’t in her delicate state, the real reason was that Eliana was already annoyed with the night’s events and wanted to return to her suite. Like the rest of her family, it had been impossible to notice the slight slant in the ship – especially when ascending to A Deck – it didn’t seem as if the ship were in any great trouble.
Eliana looked around the gymnasium, taking it in for the first time – she hadn’t been interested in visiting the camel, or the rowing machine her father had raved about, or any of the other hideous devices that surrounded her now, including the punching bag that annoying Brown woman had told her about. Eliana did not care for gymnasiums, though she was skilled in ballet, horse riding and dressage, as well as attending the annual Gresham Family hunt with her husband, though she hadn’t participated the shoot in some years. In Eliana’s mind, only fools wasted time on shared equipment; and if one wanted to go rowing, why would one not hire someone to tend to them on a relaxing boat ride?
Eliana listened as the band played softly in the background, and everyone around her – her family included – either seemed exhausted or excited. Eliana heard someone say the squash court was flooded – which she frowned at; how could the squash court have water in it? She’d watched George play a squash game, and had taken the elevator to E Deck to do so, before taking the stairs to access the court seating stage, but didn’t the ship have technology so that precise situation couldn’t happen? She knew that the Titanic had watertight doors; everyone did. It was part of what made the ship so unlikely to sink. It would take days for the sea to claim the Titanic as its victim, and the Titanic would not easily capitulate to mother nature.
Eliana watched as her father talked with Mr Andrews, before focusing on her husband. George was engaged in conversation with Jack Astor, whose wife was not yet by his side – he hadn’t wanted to rouse her unless necessary, as she was feeling under the weather again – and Eliana found herself watching her husband intently. She wanted to kiss him, to tell him she really, truly, absolutely loved him. She couldn’t shake George’s words from her head; he was right, of course, and that made it sting all the worse. I used to be happy, Eliana mused. And now, I want everyone to be as miserable as I am, even the people I love most in this world. What is wrong with me?
Eliana resolved that, as soon as her and George were alone, she would apologise for her ghastly behaviour. She’d kiss him, and honour him, and devote herself to him, like she should have.
And she would never mention the arranged marriage again. George was right, it wasn’t fair. She could not imagine living with a man other than her George, her husband. He was George. There was no other man in Eliana’s mind that was like George. William was handsome and strong, but he didn’t have George’s empathy. George had the unique ability of feeling what everyone around him felt, offering genuine advice. George was kind. He was quick and sharp, and he did not feel bothered to join in petty gossip, as so many of the men frequently did over whiskey and cigars.
Eliana was pleased that other than their mother – and
the men, who had still been in the smoking-room at the time the iceberg had hit the Titanic – she was appropriately dressed, unlike Georgiana, who was standing in her nightdress. Eliana was still wearing her elegant dinner dress, not having changed since dinner, in an attempt to wait up for George’s return. She had planned to make up with him as soon as he returned, begging his forgiveness and declaring her love for him, but by the time he returned, she was already being roused by her lady’s maid, Lee. As a result, she was dressed in navy blue velvet dress, matched with thick black stockings, leather laced boots, a coat, and a large fur draped over her. Eliana also wore thick black leather gloves and had taken the time to wrap a cashmere scarf around her head. Georgiana, in contrast, was wearing a giant Mink fur to hide the fact she was wearing her dressing gown underneath. She looked slightly dishevelled; her hair was in her braid, a white lace bow at the end, and she looked confused, as if she wasn’t sure what the purpose of the night’s activity was. On that, Eliana concurred.
Eliana had at least expected the Captain to make an announcement, but he was one of the few men she didn’t see present. She saw Mr Ismay, who looked frantic, and Mr Andrews, who looked harried, and many of the officers trying to usher the passengers to do the door, but she didn’t see the Captain. If there was an issue, Eliana reasoned, it was the Captain’s duty to inform the passengers of the danger. She could not help but find his absence queer. Her father appeared to be pleasantly engaged with Andrews, but she noticed how Albert’s hand curled, and how his smile didn’t reach his brown eyes.
Eliana diverted her attention; her father likely was none too pleased with whatever Andrews was saying, and she did not dare to risk a second look, at the risk of invoking her father’s wrath. The longer this farce progressed, Albert would begin looking to hold someone responsible.
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