Whatever the reason, Eliana was grateful that her marriage had quickly developed from a business transaction to one of equal love, admiration and care, because Eliana would soon discover she was cursed. While she’d managed to fall pregnant with another child, a son named Master Albert, who was three, and clutching at his governess’ hand, she’d also bore four other children: Some had been born of blood, and others had been born without breath.
Each miscarriage and stillbirth left Eliana melancholic, and, at times, dependent on the milk of poppy to ease her mounting despair. Each time, however, George was there, reminding Eliana of their two beautiful children, which included a young heir to both the Wickshire and Gresham Estates, and comforted her as best as he knew how. Eliana knew she was lucky; she’d heard of many men committing their wives to sanatoriums under the guise of “hysteria”, so that they could move on and choose a more successful, fertile wife. A great uncle on Eliana’s father’s side had had his wife, Mary Elizabeth, committed to Bethel in Norwich, which was as notorious as its predecessor, Bedlam, and even commoners were aware of the tragic history of Duchess Georgiana Spencer, after whom her middle sister had been named. Mary Elizabeth had aged, and her Great Uncle Albert – for which her father had been titled – wanted to take his young mistress for his bride. He declared that Mary Elizabeth had an “overactive mind” and that she “masturbated relentlessly”. Eliana very much doubted her devout Great Aunt, who had died three years after her imprisonment, would have participated in the latter, viewing it as a mortal sin; however, no genteel man would question such a vulgar comment, and Mary Elizabeth was removed, replaced by a younger woman, her memory only living in those that had known her, with her uncle destroying any signs of her existence to hide his unabashed cruelty. It had caused a scandal, as divorce was not something to take lightly, especially amongst aristocracy; and worse still, for a time, it had tarnished the Gresham Estate and family name.
When her father had regaled that story – he hadn’t told it with the outrage Eliana felt it demanded – he said it was a blight on the family’s name, which was why Great Uncle Albert’s portrait did not hang in the halls of Gresham Manor, not since he had long passed. While her father appeared disgusted, Eliana doubted he imagined the horrors she and her sisters had envisioned, having listened to varying plays about Bedlam’s notorious brutality and poverty, that their aunt must have endured before she eventually passed.
Simply because her husband, despite swearing an oath before God, did not want to love her in sickness or old age, and preferred a younger bride.
Eliana couldn’t help but wonder what caused men to hate their wives so, especially when it came to miscarriages and stillbirths; surely, they understood that it was just as painful – if not more so – for the mothers? Men complained of lost heirs and fantastical dreams; they didn’t know what it felt to carry and grow a baby within them. They didn’t know how it felt when the baby first moved – sometimes a slight flutter, other times, a giant kick. In Eliana’s mind, there was no more significant loss than losing a child, and it was merely something she doubted most men could grasp the complexity of. She loved every congealed blob of blood that left her body as much as she loved her living, breathing children.
Men, after all, searched for solutions, believing that everything could easily be solved with the right words or a transaction of money. Even Eliana’s George fell victim to that folly.
Eliana didn’t know how to explain that sometimes solutions weren’t possible; there was no solution to reviving a baby born without breath, or one born in blood. Some things held no possible solution; they required only understanding and empathy, though she could not imagine many men freely agreeing, offering a kind ear to listen to, and a sympathetic shoulder to cry on.
Eliana turned to her youngest sister as they climbed further up B Deck’s aft first-class boarding deck. Lady Cecilia, like Eliana, was also wearing a custom-made haute couture travelling suit; though unlike Eliana’s vibrant outfit, Cecilia was wearing an almost entirely white one, with cerulean blue lace forming around her waist to highlight her slender pear figure.
Both women had similarly styled skirts; buttons adorned the sides, with a small slit on the side, that allowed for a front-pleat – an insistence both women had made, not just because it was more fashionable and the styles had adorned the latest La Mode magazine, but because the slit allowed them both to walk more freely. Eliana despised the hobbled-skirt fashion that some women still aspired to; and Cecilia, barely seventeen, found most of society’s rules perplexing, as well as constraining. Like their other sister, Georgiana – who was closer to Cecilia’s age than Eliana’s – Cecilia seemed interested in politics, and the lack of rights women possessed. However, where Cecilia was fierier and more headstrong, her independence sometimes leading to trouble, Georgiana had always been the nice one.
The good one.
The one that didn’t cause any trouble.
That was, of course, until she decided to marry for love, and not for money.
Eliana mused that their mother, Lady Eleonora, had likely insisted on Cecilia’s travelling outfit, and perhaps had even instructed her lady’s maid, Weston, to style Cecilia’s hair fashionably, piled on her head, secured by heavy hat pins, before they departed from the Waldorf Hilton. Cecilia’s raven hair was currently hiding in a tuff of curls under a wide-brim cerulean hat, which was adorned with a navy-blue flower and large, prominent peacock feathers.
However, while both women wore stockings and leather gloves – white for Cecilia; purple for Eliana – and similar black Mary Jane buckled heels, Cecilia’s square neckline was undoubtedly more revealing than Eliana’s lavender, high-collared dress shirt, where an ornate Cameo broach nestled at the swallow of her throat. In fact, while Cecilia’s dress was in line with the current fashion, it was more revealing than had been expected, so much so that Eliana was surprised that Mama had approved her youngest daughter’s suit.
Perhaps, Eliana wondered, it was a matter of losing a battle to win a war; after all, they were travelling to America to secure Cecilia’s betrothal to some wealthy American railroad tycoon. Cecilia was to make her secondary debut (one could not marry without the permission of the ruling King and Queen, which Cecilia had received at court last year, the same day as her sister, Georgiana) into debutante society whilst in America, despite being already informally linked to Thomas William Cornelius Vanderbilt II, a son of one of the wealthiest American families. It was a move her parents had made begrudgingly; they didn’t cherish the idea of their youngest daughter moving to America, even if trans-Atlantic travel had become faster and more luxurious in this new industrious age. Her father talked with amazement at how quickly liners could travel now, and how comfortable they were.
While most families wouldn’t deem it necessary to have betrothed their youngest daughter so soon, especially when she had barely reached debutante age, their sister Georgiana had been the catalyst behind their parents’ decision, after she spurned their choices. Eliana still hadn’t forgiven her sister for her selfish behaviour; why was she so arrogant to believe that she could choose, when no one else had had that privilege?
At Lady Georgiana’s debut, soon after she had turned sixteen, she caused a terrible stir amongst their parents when she immediately became enamoured with a lowly Viscount named Lord William Henry Grey, much to their parents’ disgust. Eleonora and Albert had been furious when they’d learned of Georgiana’s affections. Eliana had enjoyed the situation immensely; her parents kept asking why Georgiana couldn’t “be more like Eliana”, which made her glow.
Georgiana was the family’s great beauty: Her features, while clearly English – she had the fairest skin of all the sisters, and her skin was, unlike Eliana’s, entirely unblemished – her features also appeared to be slightly exotic, as she was one of the few aristocratic women whose features didn’t conform to the smaller, more refined, sought-after English features.
Even Cecilia had a light sprinkling
of freckles across her face; however, she’d lately taking to covering them up under a sparse amount of white powder foundation, allowing her to have an (albeit natural) cover.
Eliana, on the other hand, was the very definition of a contemporary English beauty, with her dark curls, and large, hooded, dark-brown eyes, thin, bow-shaped lips that curved into a knowing, sultry smile, and a narrow Roman nose. She was slender with round, full cheeks, and despite giving childbirth, her whale-bone corsets had kept her waist tight and stomach trim. Eliana was still in her early twenties, and radiated both sophistication and graceful beauty, even if she resented the attention her sisters had received over her. It wasn’t fair – the eldest sister was meant to be the most desirable.
Cecilia, the youngest of the trio, was similar in looks to Eliana – though she donned their father’s steel grey-blue eyes, and whilst her top lip was quite thin, her bottom lip was fuller. Her hair was a darker brown than Eliana’s, though not as sharp as Georgiana’s, whose hair appeared almost black against her alabaster skin.
Georgiana was deemed the infamous beauty of the family – and was once believed to be the family’s best resource for marriage and alliance, and even potentially seeking Marquess, or, if the family were fortunate enough, even a duke. Georgiana, unlike her sisters, had inherited their mother’s sapphire blue eyes. While Mama’s eyes were small, Georgiana’s were big and doe-like, which should have been disproportionate to her tiny, heart-shaped face, but evoked a child-like innocence that was accentuated by a dimple in her left cheek. From no one, Georgiana had inherited full, pouty lips – something Eliana would expect to see on a Greek or Italian woman, not a noble English one – and while lips like Georgiana’s weren’t sought after, nor considered desirable, they seemed to be on her. From the age of fourteen, Eleonora and Albert had received a long list of suitors vying for Georgiana’s hand, from men eager to settle arrangements long before Georgiana’s marrying age. Despite it being within Eleonora and Albert’s right to accept a favourable marriage proposal – though society wouldn’t have looked too kindly upon it – they’d refused.
As a result of the anticipation of the fanfare, their daughter would bring the family, the Earl and Countess of Gresham had hosted a large debutant ball the day after Georgiana and Cecilia had been presented at court, inviting everybody, from all ranks and titles.
Georgiana’s dance card had been filled that night, and men swarmed to her in a way they had not at Eliana’s debut, but she defied her societal expectations immediately after meeting William, and spent most of the night dancing with him instead, insisting whenever anyone asked that she had “accidentally” lost her dance card. Even when Mama had warned Georgiana not to show such preference so openly and unabashedly, Georgiana had refused, open affection filling her face every time she eyed William.
After the ball had ended, Georgiana had given William permission to write her, even after their parents had loudly objected to the potential union. Georgiana, they had argued, was an essential part of the Gresham Estate’s destiny. They wanted Georgiana’s beauty to lead them into greatness, establishing stronger, prestigious lineages. “We’ve got to restore the Gresham family name,” Albert had yelled. “Too many families have fallen. And with the resurgence of new money.” Her father had shuddered; he found people with new money vulgar and insensitive.
Georgiana had disagreed, stating that she did not need to marry for an alliance, citing Eliana’s marriage as the reason for her refusal. She’d said that a viscount wasn’t lowly, and that her parents should be pleased she’d made such an excellent match, instead of being so vocal in their disapproval. To Eliana’s anger, Georgiana had asked why should she be forced to marry some nitwit (which she’d yelled in a most unladylike fashion, in Eliana’s opinion) if her sister had already secured the Gresham family estate and fortune? Georgiana’s cavalier attitude had miffed Eliana; had her own sister forgotten that Eliana hadn’t wished to be wed to George, not in the beginning? That her happiness had grown over time? Didn’t Georgiana consider how selfish she was being? Why couldn’t Eliana have the opportunity to choose?
It wasn’t that Eliana didn’t love George. She’d very much fallen in love with her husband and longed for him to be by her side. She missed when he left her, and even when she was cross with him, she found that he could easily make her laugh. It was the principle of the matter, plain and simple.
For six months, Georgiana secretly wrote intimately back and forth to William, and, when she was nearing seventeen, he requested an audience with Lord Albert and had made a proposition of marriage, which Georgiana had eagerly previously accepted, despite her father’s initial refusal to give permission.
Eliana had been pleased that her parents had put an end to her sister’s nonsense. However, Georgiana had then breathlessly informed their parents, much to their shock and dismay, that she would be marrying Lord William, regardless of their thoughts or opinions, and if that meant she was no longer welcome at Gresham Estate, than that was fine by her, but she would not be persuaded to abandon the man she loved. While the battle had been a long one, with her father swearing he would never again lay eyes upon his daughter, Eleonora and Albert had relented. They decided that Georgiana’s desire to marry for love was not worth their daughter’s estrangement, nor her unhappiness, and had, after several tedious months of unremitting quarrelling, before grudgingly giving their consent and supported the union.
The pair had married in December, inside Gresham manor, and Georgiana and William had since been on a four-month honeymoon, in the hopes that their return would soothe Georgiana’s parents’ lurking fury, and were boarding at Cherbourg later this evening to accompany Cecilia to New York. Eliana was not quite sure if she were looking forward to Georgiana’s arrival or not. She’d enjoyed the peace her disappearance had brought.
Eliana was grateful when they finally entered the warm, bright glow of the aft reception room on B Deck; her senses were overwhelmed by the stench of fresh paint – an overwhelmingly dreadful smell that instantly nauseated Eliana – and the abundance of sweet-smelling flowers filling every nook and crevice.
As Eliana’s husband had quickly abandoned her in favour of an acquaintance, and her parents had already boarded, she was alone with Cecilia, her two children, Lady Primrose and Master Albert, her lady’s maid, Lee, and Nanny Monoghan. Monoghan was now carrying Albert, who was currently crying due to the loud noises of the people bustling around them, the horns of varying ships that docked nearby, and the whistling the four funnels were making. Lee held Primrose’s hand tightly. Primrose, unlike her brother, appeared undisturbed by the morning’s events; she was excitedly pointing everything out, and had grown incredibly excited when she’d seen a small dog, and had started repeatedly shouting, “Dog! Dog! Dog!” in case the dog’s presence had been unnoticed by the passengers.
As the entourage entered the aft B Deck reception, even Eliana had to remind herself to behave appropriately, as a woman of her status, yet even she felt swayed by the brightly lit room. Lights shone above them, in straight lines, and that didn’t include the infamous dome – though it appeared less grand than the promotional photos. Eliana supposed it was because they’d entered aft, and not at the forward Grand Staircase entrance. The tiles were white, with one in every nine sporting a blue pattern, and mahogany and oak panelling lined the interior walls and staircase. Wicker chairs, with plush maroon cushions, donned the waiting area, and a few people – Eliana imagined likely those who’d come to have a peek at the ship before they were forced to say their goodbyes and disembark – were sitting comfortably on them, loudly marvelling in an assortment of British, Irish and American accents at the beautiful features the ship sported.
A young steward quickly approached Eliana and Cecilia – Eliana doubted he was much older than Cecilia – and asked if their party required any assistance.
“Please,” Eliana said. “We are in the Suites B51 and B53 – though our parents, the Earl and Countess of Gresham, should alr
eady have checked in, and my husband’s decided that twenty to eleven is the perfect time for him just simply to disappear. We would appreciate your assistance. These are my children – ” Eliana pointed to Primrose, who had inherited rose-gold hair from George’s Poppy – as well as Albert, whose hair was a fair blonde, though Primrose’s had been, too, at birth – “and our Nanny, Bridgette Monaghan, and my lady’s maid, Lee. I am Lady Eliana, and this is my younger sister, Lady Cecilia.”
The young steward nervously bobbed his head; he sounded Cornish, and, to Eliana’s delight, was accustomed to the English customs and expectations. As the Americans dominated first-class, Eliana doubted there would be many passengers among them that understood British formalities like the young man before them. They seemed, at times (when they weren’t seeking a title) to laugh at the British ceremonies. Eliana knew they did so because they resented that they didn’t have lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses.
“Yes, M’Lady,” he nodded eagerly, before bobbing his head again. “The odd-numbered cabins are all on the Starboard side, so we’ll enter through the wooden doors here. Directly across from here is the Café Parisien” – he pointed to the doors opposite them – “and Mr Ismay’s occupying the suites directly across from you, you know,” he added, as if this information was as important as the famed restaurant’s location. While the name did sound familiar to Eliana, she couldn’t place it. She doubted he was man of importance; his name did not trouble her, so it was doubtful he was consequential in any way, at least not to her. Perhaps her husband or father would know, and shake their head knowingly, as if it were to expected knowledge – women – but Eliana doubted it would change her opinion of a man she did not know, nor did she care to seek the acquaintance of a man she did not know.
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