Cold April (20 page)

He turned to go, but when Beth spoke, he looked back at her. “The newspapers said the Titanic is unsinkable,” she said.

The man smiled reassuringly. “Calm yourself, ma’am. Mr. Andrews, the architect of the ship, is on board, and he of all people should know what pains he took to make his creation unsinkable.”

He, too, continued on his way. Beth considered going back into the cabin; then, the Grand Staircase being not very far away, she noticed a young couple, fully dressed with coats and wearing life vests, ascending the stairs from below. She called to them and they stopped.

“
Where are you going? What’s happening? I have heard nothing, but you’re wearing life vests. Did the steward tell you to do that?”

“
No,” the woman answered, her pretty, youthful face distorted by panic. “It’s our own idea, but you should do the same.”

Her young husband spoke. “We’re in third class and our cabin is on E Deck, near the bow.”

“
We heard this terrible crash,” his wife said, “and decided to investigate by going down to the lower levels where the sound came from.”

“
The boiler room,” the young man said. “Water was rushing in. Sea water.”

“
We went back to our cabin and got dressed. You should prepare, as well.”

“
Hurry, now.” The man took his wife’s arm to guide her up the stairs. “We’d best go to the boat deck.”

Beth felt as if her heart had stopped. Water rushing into the ship? Just moments before a man had claimed the opposite. Who was she to believe?

She entered the cabin once more and closed the door. In their stateroom on B Deck, closer to the stern of the ship than the bow, she had not heard a crash. Or even a loud sound. She and Richard had both felt a shudder, nothing more. Surely the damage could not be major? Even striking an iceberg seemed incredible to her, so how could water be seeping into the boiler rooms?

But, from all accounts, they had struck an iceberg and, if chunks of ice had fallen on the decks, perhaps it was also possible for other almost-unimaginable things to have occurred. She would not even try to sleep now, not unless the ship’s engines started up again and Richard returned to tell her all was well.

Richard. The mere thought of him brought a tightness to her chest and a weakness to her legs. They had met less than four weeks before and yet, impossible as it seemed, she knew already that she loved him. He had said he loved her as well. What magic had been at work to transform her life so drastically and so quickly? The ship? Yes, living on the ship together—sharing meals, traversing the decks, talking every night after dinner—had made them know each other as perhaps few couples did before they acknowledged their compatibility.

And then—wasn’t it only a few minutes ago?—they had danced in each other’s arms. She closed her eyes to relive those moments. Surely this was love. She had never felt like this about anyone else. Not boys at school, not any of the young men who took her for walks in the park or sat nervously in her house under the watchful eyes of her parents. True, there had been few suitors. She’d been tall and skinny in those days, too tall for most of the boys in her classes, and hadn’t filled out until quite a bit later.

By then she’d had no time. She helped her mother with cooking, cleaning and laundry, studied hard and read voraciously. With no opportunity to go to university, she’d chosen to go to classes to learn to be a governess. That led her to the Wheatlys and the three years in New York. Over there, on her one day off a week, she’d absorbed all she could about America. She spent more time in the New York Public Library, or riding buses and the subway, than on dates.

Even so, she knew this was the real thing, the man she’d been waiting and hoping for. Not only was he an American, but he was eager to return to his native country. Together they would build a beautiful life in the New World. They were almost there now.

Almost. How near, and yet how far away! Here the ship sat, unmoving, waylaid by an iceberg. What did it mean to her future? Somehow they must survive this.

She pulled off her dressing gown and started for her own cabin to exchange her night-dress for underwear and warm clothes.

The door opened and Richard burst in.

“
Richard!” She threw herself into his arms, feeling the coldness of his coat where it touched her body.

He kissed her, glanced quickly at her body in the night-dress, then pulled her to the sofa and sat down next to her.

She clung to him, blurting out what she’d heard people say while she waited, finishing with the claims of the young couple from E Deck. “They said they had gone down to the boiler room to look and water was coming in.”

“
I’m not surprised.” He spoke urgently, his breathing labored. “Beth, I’m afraid we may be in for a long, terrible night. The captain has issued a distress call, and I have seen the lifeboats being uncovered.”

“
Lifeboats?” She grasped the lapels of his coat. “We must board lifeboats?”

“
We don’t know that yet. After the captain ordered the signals sent, I spoke with the wireless operators, who assured me there are plenty of other ships in the area. They’ve been receiving messages from those ships about ice fields and icebergs all evening.”

“
What could the other ships do?”

“
One or more of them of them could possibly take our passengers on board and return us to England or carry us on to New York or Newfoundland, whatever seems best.”

“
Are the rescue ships on the way?”

“
I believe so. The Carpathia is only fifty-eight miles away and she’s coming.”

“
But is there time? If sea water is coming in ...”

“
The ship has watertight doors that will prevent the water from rising. The ship can’t sink, even if four of the compartments get flooded.”

“
How many compartments are there?”

He paused. “I don’t know, but surely Mr. Andrews designed the ship with all contingencies in mind.”

His words did nothing to erase her fear. She even wondered if he knew more than he told her. Did he hide the truth, thinking she was one of those helpless women who might have hysterics? She shivered and he put his arms around her, holding her close.

He kissed her forehead and the top of her head, then tilted her chin up and kissed her fervently on the lips. “Oh, Beth,” he moaned when he broke the kiss. “I love you so much.”

“
I love you too. I wish ...” She stopped.

“
I know. I wish it too. I wish we were married this instant and I could take you to bed and warm you with my body.”

He kissed her again, and she felt his hands caress her back through the thin fabric of her night-dress. He unbuttoned his overcoat and enclosed her body inside the opening. She felt his warmth and the steady beating of his heart. Felt her own heart pounding in rhythm. Felt her breasts against his chest through his shirt and vest. A new sensation clutched her, a throbbing deep in her body. With a start, she realized that the one thing she desired most in the world at that moment was to be part of him, he part of her, locked in the embrace of love.

Taking her with him, he stood, arms pressing her ever more tightly against him. “My darling,” he whispered, over and over. Gentle hands stroked her hips and back. She wanted to scream with the ecstasy of his touch.

He was whispering in her ear, soft words that seemed to come from a dream. “As soon as we get to New York, we’ll be married. Will you marry me, Beth?”

“
Yes. Oh, yes.”

He walked backward, holding her close, taking her toward his bedroom.

Someone knocked loudly on the door.

“
Steward,” said an insistent male voice. The man knocked again, even louder. “Wake up. You must go on deck immediately.” The door opened, and the steward entered the sitting room. “You must put on your life vests and go to the boat deck.”

Beth emerged from her sensual haze of joy and pleasure into her new reality of terror. What had he said? Life vests. The boat deck.

The steward stared at her near-nakedness. “You must dress warmly, ma’am. It is very cold.”

Chapter 21

Beth reluctantly left the shelter and promise of Richard’s arms. Although realizing she wore only her thin night-dress, the thought of Richard seeing her in such a state of undress—to say nothing of the steward standing in the open doorway—failed to cause either alarm or shame. Nothing mattered now but doing as she was told, keeping safe. She must put on warm clothes and a life vest and get out of the cabin. More important, she must protect Kathleen. She ran into her bedroom.

She turned on the electric light, pulled the draperies aside and woke the child with a gentle shake.

“
Kathleen, it’s time to get up.” She pulled the blanket and sheet from the girl and reached in to lift her to a sitting position. “You must get dressed now.”

Yawning, the sleepy child reluctantly thrust her legs forward and eased herself from the bed. Her eyes widened. “But why is the light on? Is it still night?”

Beth knew she must say something to keep the child calm. “No, dear, it’s not night. We’re going to go out on the deck for a little while.” As she spoke, she helped Kathleen out of her night-dress. “Put on your underwear, please.”

“
Is it almost morning? Sometimes at home when I’ve waked up early it’s still a little bit night.”

“
That happens in the winter, doesn’t it?” Beth spoke as cheerfully as she could and hurried to the steamer trunk in the corner. She handed Kathleen more underwear, this time the woolen set that had been stored in the trunk.

“
But, Miss Beth, I have underwear.” She giggled. “Did you forget?”

“
No, dear, but I want you to be warm because we’re going outdoors and it’s very cold this morning.”

“
Then it is morning?”

Being after midnight, Beth knew it was morning, but barely, and not what the little girl expected.

“
We shall be very early.” She opened all the drawers in the steamer trunk and grabbed every warm item of clothing.

“
Look at this lovely sweater. Why don’t you put this on over your dress?”

As if deciding this was another silly grown-up thing, not to be questioned, Kathleen pulled on the underwear, long woolen stockings and cotton dress Beth handed her, then the sweater—two sweaters in fact—plus a heavy coat.

“
I shall be terribly hot,” Kathleen whined.

Beth ignored the protest. “You need a hat, as well.” She found a woolen cap and pulled it over the child’s blonde curls. “Now, go into the sitting room where your father is waiting while I get dressed.”

Kathleen did as she was told, and Beth changed into the warmest clothes she could find. She had no trouble remembering the freezing temperatures outside earlier that night and felt grateful to have her own woolen underwear, long stockings, sweaters and coat. Once layered, she felt like an old woman she’d seen on a dirty London back street one day—wearing all the clothes she owned at once, because she had no permanent home in which to store them.

In a way, she now resembled that woman. She, too, had no permanent home, and what she now wore might be the only clothes she’d possess for some time to come. Safety uppermost in her mind, she didn’t regret the loss of her few material possessions, but she picked up the bracelet-watch and slipped it over her hand again.

In the sitting room, Kathleen wore a life vest and Richard was fastening his own life vest over his coat. When he saw Beth, he rushed to her and helped her don hers. He didn’t speak but kissed her.

Although welcoming the kiss, Beth wondered what Kathleen might make of it. The child had never seen them show such intimacy before.

But Kathleen merely stood still and continued to look puzzled, as if all this activity constituted a bizarre adult charade, the meaning of which she could only hope they would eventually explain to her.

“
Let’s go out,” Richard said at last. “I believe we’re wanted on the boat deck.”

In the corridor they met dozens of frantic people, and Beth took hold of Kathleen’s hand so they would not be separated. She was trembling, and her stomach clenched with fear she must hide for Kathleen’s sake.

An elderly woman, traveling through the corridor alone, spoke to the little girl. “Don’t be afraid. It’s only a boat drill.”

Grateful the woman hadn’t said anything to frighten Kathleen, she nevertheless steered her quickly through the crowd, hoping to avoid words that might send the child into a panic.

A middle-aged couple passed them by, the woman saying, “I wish they wouldn’t hold these drills in the middle of the night. What a lot of nonsense: putting on our life vests and going to the boat deck as if we’re going to get into the lifeboats.”

“
But we are,” her husband said.

“
Not I,” she insisted. “As soon as it’s over, I’m going right back to bed.”

Richard, taking Beth’s other hand, urged them up the stairway to A deck and then the boat deck. Even more people had gathered there, a huge milling throng, mumbling to themselves or speaking to others nearby, trying to figure out what they were expected to do and why. Nearby, the ship’s orchestra played catchy tunes, as if it were all some grand joke.