1609366867 (14 page)

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Authors: Janice Thompson

BOOK: 1609366867
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Tessa’s heart twisted as she thought about her mother living in that broken-down cottage and dealing with Pa alone. For a moment, she thought about asking the cab driver to turn back. Just as quickly, she forced her thoughts ahead to her new life.

“Have I really changed that much?” she asked.

“Yes, but it suits you,” Peter said, gesturing to her dress. “And I believe the lifestyle will too.”

A quick glance down at the blue-and-cream gown lifted her spirits at once. This must surely be what the royals felt like, gilded and pranced about for show. To wear such finery seemed a bit silly, and yet she could not deny the way the embellished gown made her feel. Truly, it elevated her spirits and bolstered her courage. For a moment, she almost saw herself as a fine lady ready to board the
Titanic
, happy to cruise to lands yet unknown. An adventure of the highest magnitude.

Indeed, one could call her current situation an adventure, in and of itself. Outside the window, a multitude of people surrounded the vehicle, all walking the same direction, toward the White Star Line Dock. They bustled about in costumes of all sorts—many in typical British garb, but many in unusual attire coupled with decorative colors and styles. She found the whole scene rather intriguing.

“What a remarkable day we live in.” Peter pointed to an electric trolley. “Look at that, will you?” He let out a whistle. “Ever seen anything like it?”

She fought the temptation to roll her eyes. “Peter, I’d never even been out of Gloucestershire County until two weeks ago. You know that. This is all foreign and strange to me.”
And yet wildly exciting. In a terrifying sort of way.
Whether or not she could plant herself in the midst of such people and grow as a flower in a garden, she could not say. Still, she would give it all that she had.

Peter’s eyes sparkled as he looked her way. “Think of this as a production upon the stage. You are the starring player. You just have to stick to the script.” He jabbed her with his elbow. “You’ve always been quite good at playacting, if I recall.” A tiny wink followed.

“True.” She released a slow breath, determined to stay calm. “I will do my best.”

Her gaze shifted out of the window of the cab as it wound its way through the mob near the dock. She’d never seen such an mix of people before—young, old, rich, poor. She even caught a glimpse of a boy, maybe ten or so, picking the pocket of an older fellow in a fancy suit. A better person would have put down her window and called for the police, but right now the last thing Tessa wanted was to draw attention to herself. If she could just get through the next five days at sea, maybe the churning in her stomach would cease. She hoped so, anyway.

Still the madness in the streets caused the strangest sensation to rise up inside of her. She focused on a woman in a tattered dress not unlike the one Tessa wore on the day she tousled with Countess in the stall. The pained expression on the young woman’s face was evident as she said her good-byes to a young man in a White Star Line uniform. A lump rose in Tessa’s throat as she thought about leaving Peter—possibly for good.

Her gaze shifted back to the pickpocket, his victim now chasing him through the crowd to fetch his missing wallet. Something about all of this seemed strangely exciting, like a grand theatrical, playing out on a stage far more real than any a theater could boast.

Off in the distance, a group of women not much older than herself marched along in militant fashion, holding signs. Tessa strained to read the words:
V
OTES FOR
W
OMEN
.
Truly? They wanted to vote? Why? Didn’t life offer enough complications without involving politics? If she could vote for anything right now, it would be for the right to live a pleasant, comfortable life, one with Peter in it. Her eyes stung with tears, which she brushed away.

“Blasted suffragettes.” The cab driver hurled an insult through his open window as the women passed by in front of the cab. One of them turned and narrowed her gaze.

“Frightening, that one.” The cab driver chuckled as he pointed to the lady with the sour expression. “Looks as if she wants to do me harm.”

“She might start swinging her sign and take us all down.” Peter laughed and teased the woman with a boyish wave. “But who can blame these rowdy gals? They know enough to take advantage of a crowd. This is a fine platform for their demonstration, what with so many ladies about.”

“And men too.” The hairs on Tessa’s arms stood up as she saw a group of intoxicated fellows bumbling their way down the street in a pack, their merry voices raised in off-key song. Hopefully they would move on, away from the ship. Still, the idea of traveling alone, without her brother to protect her, brought a wave of fear.

Peter’s eyes filled with concern. “Yes, well, let’s not focus on the men. In fact, I would prefer you keep your distance from them on this trip, if you please.”

“Oh, I will, I promise.” No doubt she would stay as far away as possible, likely hiding out in her suite until they arrived in New York. Oh, but when she saw the people, when she heard the strains of music rising up from the drum corps in the distance, she almost imagined it possible to merge into this world, to play her role with finesse and ease. Almost.

“Look around you, Peter,” Tessa said after a moment’s pause. “What do you see?”

He turned toward the window and shrugged. “I see motor-buses. Trolleys. Delivery wagons. Bicycles. And people as thick as thieves. I hope the crowd will thin so we can make it to the dock.”

“I will get you there, sir,” the cab driver said, a lilt in his voice. “Sooner or later.”

“What
else
do you see?” Tessa pressed him to envision it all through her eyes.

Her brother shrugged. “Horses? Mounted policemen? Automobiles? Carriages?” He leaned a bit closer to the window. “I see a double-decker horse-drawn carriage with a scrolling stairway bearing a sign about Nestlé’s chocolate. Makes me wish I had some.” He smacked his lips.

“Would you like to know what I see?” Tessa asked, her thoughts on something far different.

“No doubt you will tell me even if I do not respond, so go ahead.”

“Fine.” She swallowed the lump in her throat to share. “I see people dwelling in poverty. I see families not unlike our own living in unsanitary conditions. I see immigrants and tradesmen, beggars and entrepreneurs. I see people of a variety of ethnicities. I see industries, large and small, vying for the pocketbooks of those walking by. I see pickpockets and suffragettes, ladies in traveling suits, and gentlemen smoking cigars. I see their valets and chambermaids, trimmed out and ready for service. I see spectators by the hundreds, standing along the shoreline, ready to wave their good-byes. But do you know what I see beyond it all?”

“No. But I’m intrigued.”

Tessa found herself energized by the sudden burst of confidence that swept over her as she spoke her thoughts aloud. “I see hope—on every face. It’s etched into the brow of the young women boarding the ship. It’s evident in the square-shouldered stance of the young man who’s worked all year to afford his third-class passage. It’s bolstering the courage of the elderly widow who is setting off to live with her daughter in a strange, new land.”

Indeed, she saw beyond the high lace collars and corseted waists. She looked deeper than the traveling clothes and the frilly hats. What mattered was the person, not the attire. And every person in view had his or her own story to tell, just as she did.

Peter’s brows elevated, and he glanced out the window. “You can see all of their faces from here?”

“A few. They are hopeful that life in America will change their situation for the better.” A hesitant sigh followed. “And I am among them. I’m so grateful, Peter. Truly, I am. You’ve offered me a new life. How can I begin to thank you for that?”

“You don’t have to.” Peter gripped her hand and gazed with such intensity into her eyes that she felt the sting of tears. “I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I am to hear you say this. I’m overjoyed, in fact. For the first time, you truly sound hopeful about your trip, and that brings me a sense of peace. I could not live with myself if I knew that you were unhappy, Tessa. I see this as the best possible way to get you away from Father.” His gaze penetrated her heart, nearly ripping it to shreds. “You do see now why I would go to such lengths, don’t you? I want to protect you.”

“And I’m very grateful.” A pain in her ribs reminded her of the corset, and she squirmed, trying to get comfortable. “Some things will take more getting used to than others, but I want you to know that I’m ready for a change.”

“I’m so glad,” he said. “No doubt life in America will be everything we’ve read about in books and newspapers, filled with opportunities for new beginnings.”

“Yes.” Her imagination almost ran away with her as she tried to evision it all. Just as quickly, she thought about Jacquie’s grandmother—the one who would be waiting in New York—and a shiver ran down her spine. How would she get beyond the
initial how-do-you-do to begin her new life? Even with Jacquie’s letter in hand, the situation would be difficult.

A rush of fear ran over her. “I do hope Jacquie remembers to leave the letter in my cabin.”

“She will. Don’t worry, Tessa. All will be well.” Peter’s words spoke of confidence, but the wrinkles between his brows said otherwise. After a moment of silence, he looked her way with a smile. “You must promise to write the minute you arrive in New York. Send your correspondence to Jacquie at the Willingham Hotel in Southampton. She will stay there for the time being.”

“I will. And you promise me that somehow, someway, we will see each other again.”

“We will.” He slipped his arm over her shoulders and pressed a kiss into her hair, which only caused her to tear up all over again. “I will come in time, if only for a visit. Or I will bring you back when you’ve had your fill of your new life.” He chuckled and withdrew his arm. “Though I daresay you will probably settle in nicely and forget all about us.”

“Impossible.”

A lone tear trickled down her cheek and he reached to brush it away with a fingertip then shrugged. The crowd thinned, and off in the distance, along the edge of the White Star Line Dock, the RMS
Titanic
loomed, in glorious splendor.

Tessa’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the magnificent ship. Regal and grand, it stood taller than she had imagined—with far more decks. She lost count of them as her gaze swept upward. The smokestacks seemed to reach to the sky, all four of them. And dotting the decks of the ship as they strolled about, passengers as tiny as ants. From this distance, anyway. Soon, she would join them. A shiver ran down her spine at the very thought
of it. Tessa continued to stare at the massive vessel, overcome by its sheer beauty and size.

“The Queen of the Ocean.” Peter’s words rang out as he pointed to the ship. “The most sumptuous liner afloat, awaiting her finest passenger.” He elbowed Tessa once again and laughed.

“Oh, Peter.” Could she really board an ocean liner the size of a city and float across the waters to some place she’d only imagined in her dreams? Before she could think it through, a fancy touring car came to a stop in front of them, just beyond the White Star Line sign.

“Who do you suppose that is?” She squinted to get a better look. “I’ve never seen such a large vehicle.”

“That’s a Daimler landaulet.” Peter let out a whistle. “Must be someone important.”

They watched as the chauffer climbed out of the car, opened the back door, and stood to attention. A trio of youngsters emerged, followed by a young woman. A fellow in a fine traveling suit got out next, followed by a woman who was dressed to the nines. They fussed over their trunks then ushered the children aboard the ship.

Tessa’s nerves felt jumbled. To be surrounded by such people, folks accustomed to money, unnerved her. Could she really keep up her role as a socialite with ease, or would she spend this entire trip holed up in her suite? Not that traveling in a grand suite would be problematic, of course. She could very well enjoy the cruise just as nicely from inside.

Oh, but the water! And the waves. They called out to her, beckoning her to gaze down at them. And those lovely decks, teeming with people. Did they not call her name? Could she not spend many a fine hour strolling in the afternoon sunlight with the salty breeze whipping through her hair?

A policeman in full regalia gestured for the vehicle to stop, and she was granted only seconds to say her good-byes to Peter. She clutched his arm and forced herself to remain calm. “Promise you won’t leave me here until you’re sure I’ve boarded?” Her words came out sounding as frantic as they felt. “Just in case something goes wrong?”

“It won’t.” He wrapped her in his arms and planted a kiss in her hair. “At eleven forty-five Jacquie will be waiting at the starboard gate. Meet her there.”

Tessa’s heart quickened. “I will.”

Peter’s eyes filled with tears and he leaned in to give her a hug. “I pray your new life is everything you hope it will be. You, of all people, deserve the best.”

“Oh, Peter.” She flung her arms around his neck and cried until her heart was relieved of its pain.

Off in the distance a tower clock bonged the hour. Peter pulled away. “We’re out of time. Do you know what to do?”

“I’ve rehearsed it so many times in my mind, I think I can manage.” She gave him an extended hug and then, with her heart in her throat, opened the door and sprinted toward the ship, determined to push aside her emotions until she was safely settled onboard. She eased her way through the throng of people, her gaze traveling ever upward to the ship.

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