Read Titanic Affair Online

Authors: Amanda P Grange

Tags: #Man-Woman Relationships, #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Titanic (Steamship), #Love Stories

Titanic Affair (20 page)

BOOK: Titanic Affair
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Even when Mr Thirske be spoke to him he did not look away.

‘We didn’t see you at divine service this morning, Latimer,’ said Mr Thirske.

He answered Mr Thirske, but his eyes never left Emilia’s as he said, ‘No. I’m afraid I overslept.’

‘Late night?’ queried Mr Thirske.

Carl drew his eyes away from Emilia. She could feel what a struggle it had been for him.

‘Something like that,’ he said, unwillingly giving Mr Thirske his full attention.

‘I hope the card sharps didn’t get you,’ said Mr Thirske ruefully. ‘I ran across one of them on our first night out from
Southampton
. Of course, I didn’t know who he was at the time. I thought he was just a fellow passenger. He seemed so respectable. But that’s his stock in trade, I suppose. He let me win at first, but just as I was getting comfortable he stung me for a large sum.’

Carl nodded sympathetically.

‘There are always a group of them on board any notable sailing.’

‘Still, I’ve learnt my lesson. No more gambling for me,’ said Mr Thirske. ‘Early to bed and early to rise, that’s the ticket.’

‘I thought the service was lovely,’ said Mrs Thirske. ‘Captain Smith has such a wonderful voice. So resonant.’

The ladies agreed.

‘It must be a marvellous life being a Captain,’ went on Mrs Thirske. ‘Walking around and looking impressive and going to dinner with the richest, most famous people in
America
. He’s dining in the
à la carte
restaurant this evening, courtesy of the Wideners, or so I hear. George Widener’s the head of a banking and railroad family, you know,’ she said.

‘It’s true, there are perks, but he has a lot of responsibility as well,’ her husband reminded her.

‘Oh, yes, but not on
Titanic
. What can go wrong on an unsinkable ship? He’ll be sorry to leave all this behind when he retires, I’m sure.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Pansy. ‘We’re sailing into dangerous waters this evening. Do you know, they call this part of the ocean Devil’s Hole.’

‘What nonsense,’ said Robert affably. ‘Whoever told you that? Someone’s been having you on.’

‘It isn’t nonsense, it’s true,’ she returned, unperturbed. ‘It was my stewardess who told me, and she should know. She’s crossed the
Atlantic
many times before. A lot of her ladies are nervous when they reach this stretch of water, she told me. It’s a dreadful place for accidents. Icebergs can drift down this far, and they can hole a ship.’

‘An ordinary ship, maybe,’ said Mr Thirske, ‘but not
Titanic
.’

‘It’s certainly cold enough for icebergs,’ said Robert, taking up the theme. ‘We took a turn on deck before coming into the dining-room and the temperature’s dropped noticeably. It’s going to be a cold night.’

Whilst the others talked, Emilia studiously buried her head in her menu. She was afraid to look up in case she met Carl’s eye. But once she had ordered she could no longer hide, and before her silence could become noticeable to the rest of the dinner party she joined in the conversation.

‘I’ve never seen an iceberg.’

‘They’re beautiful if you see them in the right light,’ said Carl, turning towards her. It seemed as if he were speaking only to her. ‘They can appear to be blue, gold, or even red, instead of the white you might expect. It all depends on what light you see them in.’

‘Do you think we’ll see any tonight?’ asked Mrs Thirske.

‘We might see a few, but only in the distance,’ said Carl, now glancing round the table and including everyone in his remarks. ‘The ship will steer clear of them. We’re more likely to see ice floes, I should think. They’re common at this time of year.’

The first course was served. Conversation dwindled, reviving again between courses, as they discussed everything from the speed of their crossing to the latest novels. The food was excellent, and in the background the music provided the perfect atmosphere as the orchestra played a lively selection of tunes.

‘Well, we’d better go and sit in the lounge so the men can have their cigars and brandies,’ said Mrs Latimer, once dinner was over.

The ladies rose.

‘That was a wonderful meal,’ sighed Pansy, as they went into the lounge. Like the other rooms on the ship it was magnificent. Light and spacious, it had high ceilings and elaborate mouldings, and was decorated in Georgian style. The settees and easy chairs were covered in carmine silk, and were embroidered in tasteful style. The ladies engaged in desultory conversation about the latest fashions, but before long Mrs Latimer was stifling yawns and declaring herself ready for bed.

Pansy, too, declared her intention of retiring. She had some letters to write, she said.

They departed, together with Miss Epson, and were soon followed by Mrs Thirske.

Emilia, however, was not tired. It was not yet
half past eleven
, and intrigued by the thought of seeing an iceberg she went out on to deck. There was no wind, but the air was cold. However, she only intended to stay outside for a few minutes, and wrapped her arms around herself to keep herself warm.

The ship looked magical. Light streamed from every porthole and every deck. Lanterns were hung along its entire length. It was like a fairy ship, she thought fancifully, strung with glow worms illuminating the dark night sky.

The sea was as calm as a mill pond, and its dark depths reflected the lights. The ship was still going at a good pace, and she was reassured by this, for if the Captain had felt there was any danger he would have slowed down. She could not see any ice. She had hoped to see an iceberg glowing with a blue or silver light in the starlight, but there was nothing but sea and sky. She shivered, and decided she must go in.

She was just about to do so when she became aware that there was someone behind her. She felt her skin prickle, and without even having to look round she knew who it was. There was only one man who could light up the air with such a powerful electrical charge.

Carl.

‘It’s a beautiful night,’ he said softly.

She took a deep breath and turned round to face him. His face was shadowed, but one side of it was illuminated by the ship’s lights, and she was aware of his high cheekbones and smooth skin. She had an urge to reach out and trail her fingers down his strong face, letting them linger on his jaw before brushing his lips. But she could not give in to such an impulse. It would be madness. So, to help her fight it she folded her arms.

‘It is,’ she agreed. Deliberately turning her eyes skywards, her gaze traced the heavens. ‘It’s so peaceful out here, away from the hustle and bustle of normal life.’

He nodded. ‘It’s as though the rest of the world doesn’t exist.’

It was true. Sheltered by the darkness, cut off from the noise that existed inside the ship, they seemed like the only two people left in the world. It was a wonderful feeling.

It was also unnerving.

Carl exerted a strange power over her. If she were to forget where she was she would be in danger of succumbing to it. Her only hope lay in reminding herself that she was on a ship full of people and that at any moment one of them might come out on to the deck.

The wind blew, and she shivered. But before she could say she must go in, he had stripped off his jacket and he was by her side, wrapping it round her bare shoulders.

‘Here.’

She accepted it gratefully. It was warm with his body heat, and it contained the unmistakeable scent of him, a mixture of expensive cologne and masculinity. She nestled into it, then lifted her face to thank him . . . and the words died on her lips. His hands had stilled on her shoulders, and as she looked into his eyes, she was lost. They were so deep they drew her in. She saw his feelings as clearly as though they’d been written on his face in letters a mile high. He was going to kiss her.

She knew what she had to do. She had to pull away, step out of his grasp, thank him politely for his jacket, tell him it was not necessary, return it to him and go back inside. But she could not do it. The night was so magical and his presence was so overwhelming that she simply stood there, in the grip of a nameless spell, and raised her face to his.

He took her chin between his finger and thumb, and then bent his head, and brushed her lips with his own. She could feel the slight roughness of the stubble around his mouth, and she found it stimulating. She responded, and he took her into his arms and kissed her.

It was a deep, slow sensuous kiss, such as she had never experienced before. Her knees buckled, and if his arms had not been around her waist she would have fallen. He pulled her closer and her arms instinctively rose and slid around his neck. She ran her fingers through his hair, revelling in its sleekness, and returning his kiss with a passionate intensity she had never dreamed she possessed.

He pulled away briefly, whispering endearments as he nuzzled her ear, then kissed her again. She had never dreamt a kiss could be so all-consuming. He was swamping all her senses. Sight, scent, sound, taste and touch were full of him. He was her whole world.

Overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her she lost all track of time, knowing nothing but the pressure of his body and the sweet insistence of his lips.

How long it would have gone on for she did not know, but slowly, gradually, the sound of voices called her back to reality. Other passengers, lured by the stars and the stillness, were coming out on to the deck, and although they were further down, they had reminded her of the real world and all its complications.

She must have been mad to let him kiss her, she thought, as she pulled away from him, her feelings a mass of confusion. She had meant to avoid him and instead she had surrendered herself, giving herself to him willingly and welcoming his kiss. For she could not hide from herself that she had welcomed it. It had seemed so right that she had wanted it, and enjoyed it, and even worse, longed to feel it again. After her experience with Silas Montmerency - after the day he had grabbed her and covered his mouth with her own - she had wondered if she would ever enjoy a man’s caresses. She had hated the feel of Silas’s mouth on hers, and the feel of his arms around her had driven her mad with panic and the desire to escape. But when Carl had taken her in his arms she had not wanted to escape. And when he had kissed her, she had kissed him back, matching his passion with a passion of her own. She had forgotten herself, lulled by the sea and the stars and the faint strains of music coming from the dining-room, but she must not forget herself again. Now, more than ever, she must be on her guard.

She was under no illusions about Carl’s feelings. She was, to him, a light indulgence, something with which to pass the time whilst he sailed across the Atlantic, but to her he was something more. He touched her in ways she had never been touched before. He intrigued her, interested her, compelled her. And he attracted her like no other man. But it was madness to give in to it.

She pulled herself together.

‘I must go.’

She turned away from him but he caught her hand as she did so.

‘I’ve frightened you,’ he said, pulling her towards him. ‘I’m sorry. That was not my intention. Stay. Please.’

His voice was low and husky, and she was in danger of weakening all over again, but she made a determined effort to control her reaction to him.

‘No, you haven’t frightened me,’ she said. ‘But this was a mistake. It must never happen again.’

He raised his eyebrows.

‘May I ask why not?’

‘You know perfectly well why not,’ she said.

‘No. I don’t.’

‘Mr Latimer, this is neither the time or the place for such a discussion,’ she said, glancing along the deck to where several gentlemen were standing by the railings, smoking their cigars.

BOOK: Titanic Affair
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