Edmund jerked his thumb toward her. “Right.”
“You said before that the other man gave him something?”
Edmund frowned as he tried to remember. “It was small, white. About the size of a man’s hand. But I barely saw it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Elizabeth said. “You’re doing great.”
Edmund didn’t seem to agree. “I’m sorry.”
“Did you smell anything?” Niels asked suddenly.
They all looked at him oddly and he indicated a man passing by with a cigar. “Were they smoking?”
A smile came over Edmund’s face. “Yeah. The other one was. A cigarette.”
A cigarette hardly narrowed it down and Simon’s face reflected all of their disappointment, but Edmund’s eyes were still narrowed as he tried to remember.
“What is it?” Elizabeth asked.
“It was a cigarette, but kind of … I don’t know, different.”
“Like a cigar?”
Edmund shook his head. “Not really. A little sweet?”
“Maybe Turkish?” Niels suggested.
He looked embarrassed. “I don’t know. I’ve only been outside of London once in my life.”
Elizabeth’s heart went out to him. “Right now?”
He nodded, sheepish. “I wouldn’t know a Turk from a turkey.”
Elizabeth laughed but felt a wave of sadness. How she hoped his first trip wouldn’t be his last. “It’s all right,” she said. “We’ll figure it out.”
Simon put his hand on Edmund’s shoulder. “You’ve done well.”
“So what now?”
“Might I suggest,” Niels said, “we sniff around a little?”
They began to wander around the reception room. As they did, Simon took Elizabeth’s elbow and leaned down. “Are you all right?”
She nearly said it again, nearly blurted out the truth, but managed somehow not to. “I’m fine.”
He studied her closely and with every passing second she felt the words climbing up her throat.
She cleared it and gently bumped into him with her shoulder. “I’m fine.”
He seemed ready to press the point when Niels and Edmund returned to their side.
Edmund shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Why don’t we try the smoking lounge?” Elizabeth said quickly.
They all agreed and started for the grand staircase. There hadn’t been many people in the reception area and most of the smoking took place in the smoking lounge or on deck anyway.
As they walked up the stairs, Elizabeth could feel Simon still watching her. She fell into step with Edmund and laced her arm through his. He smiled brightly at her and they made their way back up toward A Deck.
Somewhere between C and B, Edmund stopped. He sniffed the air and his eyes lit up.
“That’s it.”
Elizabeth looked around for the source of the smoke. A man with a cigar had just passed them. She turned Edmund around. “Is it him?”
He looked uneasy, but she gave him a gentle shove and he hurried back down the stairs and took a sniff near the man’s back. The man must have heard him because he turned around with a scowl.
Edmund spun back around and shook his head as he beat a hasty retreat and came back up to the small landing.
“What about that one?” Elizabeth said.
“Find something?” Simon asked as he and Niels joined them on the small split-level landing.
“He got a whiff.”
“Where?” Simon asked.
Elizabeth shook her head and then she smelled it or smelled something. It was exactly like Edmund had described. It was a cigarette, but different. Nicer somehow.
She could tell by the looks on Simon and Niels’ faces that they didn’t smell it. Like a bloodhound on a scent, she started back up the stairs. She stood at the top of them with Edmund. Then he took off to his right and Elizabeth and the others followed.
He stopped suddenly and turned his back as a tall man with enough whiskers to hide a kitten in passed by. Elizabeth could smell the unique aroma of the wide cigarette in his hand.
“That’s it,” Edmund said with a grin. They turned to watch him walk toward the deck. “Do you think that’s him?”
Simon and Niels joined them again, but instead of elation, Simon frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer, but whatever the reason for his change in mood, it wasn’t good.
“I do not recognize the man, do you?” Niels said.
“Colonel Weir,” Simon said.
“German?”
“American. And not the sort I’d suspect to collude with Germany.”
“Everyone’s a suspect until they aren’t,” Elizabeth reminded him.
He nodded, but he was clearly unsure.
They started to trail after the colonel when Elizabeth stopped.
“Uh-oh.”
“What?” Simon asked.
She took a deep breath and smelled it again. Abruptly, she realized that taking deep breaths of cigarette smoke wasn’t the brightest idea for a pregnant woman and pushed the air back out quickly.
Luckily, Simon didn’t notice and ask her what was wrong. Again. She glanced over at him and saw the light go on in his eyes as he smelled the distinct odor, too.
This time, the smoker was a woman they didn’t recognize. Both she and her companion had the same short stubby cigarette the colonel had.
Simon’s expression grew grim.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think we’ve been on a wild goose chase.”
He indicated that they should go up one more deck. They did and made their way to the smoking lounge. As soon as he opened the door, they were all assaulted by the smell.
The same cigarettes were everywhere.
Simon opened one of the complimentary boxes on the small tables and, lo and behold, inside were row after row of them.
“Gauloise,” a short, portly man said, appearing on the other side of the table. “Uniquely French. Rich, full flavored, a little Turkish spice. Complimentary, of course.”
“Thank you, no,” Simon said and closed the lid to the box.
“Hoping to introduce them to America. Hard to beat the Virginians though.”
“Yes,” Simon said, absently as he turned his back on the man.
The tobacco salesman blinked in surprise at Simon’s curt reaction, but trundled off to sell his wares to another newcomer to the lounge.
It was incredibly disappointing. Their one lead went up in a puff of smoke. Anyone on the ship could have been smoking them. They were no closer to finding out who their new mystery man was than before.
Suddenly, Simon turned around and called after the salesman. “When did you put these out?”
“This morning.”
“Did you give any out before that?”
“No, but—”
“You said these are French,” Simon said, impatiently.
“Yes. They’re new. Only available there right now. I’m hoping to bring them—”
“Yes, to America.”
Elizabeth understood now. “So these can only be purchased in France?”
He nodded, confused. “For now, but you can try them for free here.”
Simon studied one of the cigarettes. “Thank you.”
The man nodded, still confused, but eventually wandered away again.
“Maybe we are not as lost as we think,” Niels said.
“I don’t understand,” Edmund said.
Simon held up the cigarette. “If these weren’t widely available yesterday when you saw our man, he brought them himself. Which means—”
“He was in France.”
“Or from France,” Elizabeth said, nodding toward a couple sitting in a pair of chairs in the corner of the room—George and Henrietta Rivet.
The four of them stood staring for a moment before Simon turned away. “We look like a bloody chorus line. Let’s break up and see what we can learn. The Rivets
are certainly worth looking into.”
“I think Colonel Gracie said he’d been to France on this trip,” Edmund said. “But he’s such a nice—”
Simon held up a finger. “Elizabeth’s right. Everyone is a suspect.”
Niels looked around the nearly empty lounge. “Edmund and I will see what we can learn and you and your wife do the same.”
She could see Simon hesitate to let Niels out of their sight and so, apparently, did Edmund. “I won’t let anything happen to him.”
“You see, I am in good hands.”
Edmund smiled.
“Be subtle,” Simon said, “the last thing we need is to draw attention to the fact that we might be onto them.”
“Subtle, right,” Edmund said, then cracked his knuckles.
Simon looked at Niels briefly. “You’ll explain the concept to him?”
Niels laughed. “We will be fine.”
“All right. But we reconvene for lunch in …” He checked his watch. “Two hours. And be careful.”
Elizabeth and Simon watched the others wander off. “Where should we start?”
“Anywhere but in here.” The smoky air was starting to make her sick and what made her sick … Her hand went unconsciously to her stomach.
“Agreed.”
They left the smoking lounge and went out on deck. The fresh sea air was exactly what the doctor ordered. She took a deep cleansing breath as they walked down the promenade.
“The First Class lounge is right here,” Simon said. “As good a place as any to start. Although, I wonder if we’re just chasing our tails.”
Elizabeth looked up at him and he shrugged. “France is just across the Channel from England. Dozens of the First Class passengers have likely been there recently. I’m not sure we’ve really narrowed the field at all.”
She took hold of his arm. “From a few thousand to a few dozen sounds like an improvement to me.”
He smiled down fondly at her and pulled her closer.
He reached to open the door to go back inside just as Robert Sheridan and Louise Sheridan were coming out.
“Hello,” Elizabeth said. Next to her, she could almost hear Simon grinding his teeth.
“Isn’t it awful?” Louise said without preamble.
Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat. “What is?”
“Another break-in. The countess this time.”
Elizabeth was relieved it wasn’t something worse, but she had a strange feeling. “Was anyone hurt?”
“No, thank God. But they took all of her jewels and Mr. Carrillo’s watch and cufflinks.”
“I hope they find the bastard,” Sheridan said. “You’d think on a ship like this they’d have a better sort of people.”
“Yes,” Simon said tightly.
“We’re going for refreshments,” Louise said. “Would you like to join us?”
“Maybe later,” Elizabeth said quickly. “Thank you, though.”
Elizabeth waited until they were gone and then looked up at Simon. “I am actually hungry.”
He chuckled. “Shocking.”
“I didn’t have any breakfast,” she said. “But I don’t want the Sheridans to see us eating right after we turned them down.”
“We can have something sent to our room, I suppose. Danish or—”
She smiled. “You had me at danish.”
He laughed again and they went to their suite. Elizabeth polished off two danishes and half a cruller.
“I’m stuffed.”
Simon took a sip of his tea. “I can’t imagine why.”
She smiled cheerfully at him, winning her a small chuckle in return. She pushed her chair away from the table, planning on going into the bedroom to reapply her lip rouge when a wave of dizziness overtook her. She tottered in place and grabbed onto the edge of the table to steady herself. Simon was up on his feet and at her side instantly.
“Elizabeth?”
She shook her head slightly and waited for the vertigo to pass. Thankfully, it quickly began to, but she still felt a little woozy and let Simon ease her back into her chair.
“What’s wrong?”
She started to tell him she was fine when he beat her to the punch.
“Don’t say nothing,” he said. “Are you ill?”
He put a hand to her forehead. She shook her head again.
His forehead creased with worry as he knelt down in front of her.
“I’m not sick,” she said.
He wasn’t appeased and she knew he wouldn’t be. Not now that she’d nearly passed out in front of him. She’d wanted to keep her secret to protect him from worry and it was having the exact opposite effect.
His hand rested on her knee and she took hold of it. He looked at her with such concern, she had to smile.
“I’m—” she hesitated. A strange nervousness overtook her, as if maybe saying it out loud would make it all a dream. But it wasn’t a dream. It was real. After months of trying, it had finally happened. “I’m pregnant.”
His eyes narrowed as if that would help him process the words. “You’re what?”
“I’m pregnant.”
He blinked at her, frozen in place. Then shook his head slightly, then tilted his head to to the side, trying to process.
His voice was rough and yet soft and tender. “You’re pregnant?”
She managed a wobbly smile.
He knelt there for a moment, mouth agape, probably trying to restart his heart. He blinked a few more times and then stood up so suddenly he nearly knocked the table over. “You—you’re sure?”
She nodded. “I think so. They don’t have any EPTs around here, but …” She nodded again.
A short small laugh escaped from somewhere deep inside him and he smiled in a way she’d never forget—a look of pure and absolute joy.
“You’re pregnant.”
He looked down at her belly and then back up into her eyes. She felt tears coming on but nodded.
He pulled her up to him and cupped her cheek. Then he pulled her into a deep kiss. He laughed again when it was over and pressed his forehead against hers.
“Surprise,” she said.
He laughed and hugged her again.
“At least we know she has a flare for the dramatic,” Elizabeth said.
He laughed. “Like her mother.”
The power of that moment, when they spoke of her not in the future tense, not in the abstract, but here and now as a person nearly among them, stunned her. She was real. Their daughter was real.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Do you need to sit down?”
She shook her head but sat down anyway. Simon knelt in front of her.
“I just realized she’s a real person.” Seeing that he didn’t understand what she meant, she continued, “Part of me thought she was just a dream, you know?”
He nodded.
She put her hand over her stomach and laughed in wonder. “But she’s real.”
Simon’s expression changed then. He looked off into the distance. “Yes.”
“And now we’ve all just got to find a way to survive the sinking of the Titanic,” Elizabeth said with another laugh.
Simon didn’t join her. He stood. “Yes.”
“Simon.” She reached out for his hand and he turned around. The gears were turning inside his head—playing out scenarios and finding the answer to each, preparing.
He managed a smile. “You will be all right.”
“We,” she corrected.
He nodded. “We.”
But she wasn’t sure he was including himself in that. She tugged on his hand and he knelt down on one knee in front of her and kissed her hand.
“We’re in this together, right?” she said.
He nodded, but she saw the reservation in his eyes.
“We’re a family now.”
Everything from this moment on would be different. Every choice, every action weighed in a new way. Every word was an emotional powder keg in a way it had never be
en before.
“I love you so very much,” he said and then a smile came to his eyes. “Both of you.”
“And we love you. I’m speaking for two,” she added with a grin.
He nodded then leaned down and whispered, “Welcome to the family, Charlotte.”
Chapter Fifteen
SIMON COULD BARELY BELIEVE his luck. Here he was kneeling before the woman he loved more than life itself knowing she was carrying the child he’d so desperately wanted.
“If you’re waiting for an answer,” Elizabeth said. “It might be awhile. Seven or eight months.”
He grinned sheepishly. How long he’d been silently staring at her belly, he had no idea. He stood. She held out her hand and he helped her up and took her into his arms.
She pulled his head down for a kiss and then trailed kisses along his jaw.
Her sudden shift to seductress caught him off guard, but he quickly forgot his surprise and pulled her more tightly against him.
“We should go back up on deck,” he said, half-heartedly.
“Not yet,” she said, her breath warm against his skin.
Suddenly, he pulled away and frowned. “Did you have soft cheese yesterday?”
“What?”
His frown deepened. “I can’t remember if you had cheese or not. There was some as an appetizer, I think.”
She was thoroughly confused. “Maybe you should stay here and rest.”
He shook his head and then smiled. “No, you didn’t. You had parmesan with your meal, but you’ll have to watch for that.”
“Cheese?”
He nodded. “Unpasteurized. Brie, Camembert, blue. They can be contaminated with Listeria. Very bad for you and the baby.”
She was still clearly confused by the sudden shift in conversation.
“There’s a whole host of things you’ll have to avoid,” he continued. “Didn’t you read any of those books I gave you?”
When they’d been trying to conceive, Simon had done what he did best—research. He’d read every book on pregnancy and childbirth he could find from Dr. Spock to Dr. Seuss.
“A few,” she said, sheepishly.
“Well, I read them all. Twice. You’re going to have to be careful what you eat and drink.”
“No booze.”
“Or coffee.”
She winced.
“And we’ll have to make sure you have enough calcium. Helps ward off high blood pressure and preeclampsia.”
Voyage in Time: The Titanic (Out of Time #9) Page 14