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“I did not sleep well last night.” She had spent nearly an hour fretting over Iris’s words but wouldn’t say so now. Let Mrs. Patterson think what she wanted.

Tiny creases formed between the woman’s brows. “Do as I say. Send her packing. Don’t be bothered with her. Then you will sleep like a babe.”

“No doubt I will.” Still, she couldn’t possibly send Iris packing. Where would she send her, anyway?

Mrs. Patterson rose with a dramatic sigh. “Well, I should be going, anyway. There’s so much to do before dinner. I want to make a good impression on Edith Russell, you know.”

“Ah.” Tessa cared nothing for such things, but the mention of Edith’s name did stir curiosity.

“Why I care what that woman thinks is beyond me. Have you heard the story of what she’s done? She’s been carrying around a little stuffed pig as if it’s her baby. Strangest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

As the word “pig” was spoken, Tessa’s thoughts went to Countess at once. The sting of tears followed.

“Why a woman would attach herself to a pig is beyond me.” Mrs. Patterson sighed. “Oh well. I must be on my way. I must freshen up my makeup and make sure the steward sent my new silk gown to be pressed before this evening’s meal. Alas, a woman’s work is never done.”

“You are so right.” Tessa rose, thinking the conversation had ended. Instead, Nathan’s mother began to talk about the agonies of constrictive undergarments and the woes of hair styling.

In that moment, Tessa wondered what Mrs. Patterson would look like in the pig stall, chasing Countess hither, thither, and yon. The image made her smile. And then giggle.

“Well, I’m happy to see I’ve cheered you up.” The older woman reached over to give her a warm embrace…so warm that Tessa found herself missing Mum. And Peter. And Countess.

In that moment, her emotions flip-flopped and the giggles ended, now replaced with sadness. She pictured herself running across the gardens at Abingdon Manor in search of her brother. Imagined him drawing near and wrapping her in his arms. Felt his gentle kiss on her brow. Listened to his brotherly teasing.

Determined not to cry, Tessa swallowed the lump in her throat, pressed back the sniffles that threatened to erupt, glanced over at Nathan’s mother, and forced the happiest smile she could muster.

Friday Afternoon, April 12, 1912

Aboard the
Titanic

Nathan spent the afternoon touring areas of the ship he had not yet seen and chatting with several workers onboard. Among his favorites was Herbert Pitman, Third Officer, who had been given the task of using celestial observations to chart
Titanic
’s position. The jovial fellow spent nearly an hour sharing an enthusiastic conversation with Nathan.

Some time later, Nathan met up with the stoker he’d met the first day back in Southampton and had a short conversation with him.

“How are things down below?” he asked.

The fellow, black with soot, swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Hot, sir. Just sticking me head out fer a bit of air. Me shift just ended. Need to catch a wink ’r two before headin’ back.” His brow arched and concern laced his words. “We’ve had a rough go of it, to be honest. We’ve had a fire smolderin’ in the coal bunker off ’n’ on from the moment we set sail.”

“Oh?” This certainly piqued Nathan’s interest. “Anything to worry about?”

“No, just one more headache when we’re already battlin’ so many others.”

“Others?”

With a wave of the hand, the fellow mumbled something indistinguishable. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he said after a moment. “Just a bit put off by the lousy coal they’ve given us. Not what I would’ve chosen, for sure. But I suppose with the strike only just
endin’, we’ll take what we can get, right?”

For whatever reason, the words “take what we can get” did not settle well with Nathan. He pressed them to the back of his mind, determined not to worry. Still, he managed to respond with “Right,” and even offered a nod afterward.

After bidding the fellow a good day, Nathan continued his perusal of the ship in search of one room in particular. Finally he arrived at the stateroom he’d been searching for on A Deck. He knocked on the door and waited until someone answered.

A lady’s maid opened the door, and he asked to speak to Miss Edith Russell.

“Is she expecting you?” the young woman asked.

“No.” Still, he hoped she would see him, regardless.

“She is in E-19, doing inventory of some of the clothes in her new line. You will find her there, but don’t expect her to be in a pleasant frame of mind. She’s, well…” The lady’s maid shifted her gaze. “She’s had a rough go of it, of late.”

“Ah. Well, I will approach with care.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Nathan took the elevator to E Deck and made his way to E-19, where he spoke with Miss Russell at length, finally convincing her to meet Iris in person. Doing so would endear Iris to both Jacquie and Nathan, or so he hoped. They would discuss the plan tonight at dinner, with Edith and Jacquie putting their heads together to come up with a plan.

He only prayed that Iris would forego her sullen ways when she finally met with Miss Russell in person. Hopefully Iris would say nothing about the little stuffed pig Miss Russell seemed so attached to. One could hope, anyway.

As he left the stateroom, Nathan’s thoughts shifted, for
whatever reason, to James Carson’s job offer. Something about it still felt odd. Contrived. Why it continued to nag at him, he could not say. Still, he would pay closer attention to the fellow to solve the riddle…if, indeed, there was a riddle to be solved.

In the meantime, he would head back to his cabin to dress for dinner. There, with Jacquie Abingdon seated beside him, all would be well.

Friday Evening, April 12, 1912

The Willingham Hotel, Southampton, England

A rap on the door aroused Jacquie from a light, tearful sleep. A dream, which had pierced her heart, faded away as she came fully awake.

Jacquie dried her eyes and glanced in the mirror, appalled at the reflection that stared back at her. The knocking continued, and she tried to gather her wits about her. Was it the bellman, perhaps? Worse yet, had her father located her? Figured out her scheme? She shivered, in part because the temperature in the room had dropped and in part because she found herself unnerved by the constant rapping.

She took a couple of tentative steps toward the door and leaned her ear against it as she called out, “Who’s there?”

Only when she heard Peter’s familiar voice did she reach for the handle to fling the door open.

Chapter Twenty

Saturday Morning, April 13, 1912

Aboard the
Titanic

For whatever reason, Tessa found it very difficult to sleep on Friday night. She kept replaying Mrs. Patterson’s words about Iris in her mind. Also, the excitement at dinner kept her thoughts tumbling. What a fascinating woman Edith Russell had turned out to be. And how kind of her to agree to meet with Iris. Tessa could hardly wait to hear what became of that.

When she rose earlier than usual on Saturday morning, Tessa found that a cold chill had gripped the air. Shivering, she reached for her robe. Or, rather, Jacquie’s robe. For a moment she contemplated visiting the Turkish bath. Perhaps there she could shake off the icy feeling that now held her in its grip. Instead, she decided to take an early breakfast in the dining saloon.

She did her best to fasten her own corset strings without Iris, who slept soundly in the next room. Then she slipped on the simplest dress available, left her hair hanging in soft curls over her shoulders, and made the walk to the dining hall. As she landed on the Grand Stairway, the early morning rays peeked through the dome. She glanced up, mesmerized by the colors as the light hit the brass fixtures. For whatever reason, the dazzling rainbowlike
display brought her hope. Strange. She’d been without it for so long, she scarcely recognized it now. Oh, if only this feeling would last!

When Tessa arrived in the dining hall, she found her usual table filled. Instead of taking a seat, she opted to take a caramel Danish from the buffet. Wrapping it in a napkin, she carried it out to the reception area and took a few bites. Moments later, still haunted by the conversation with Mrs. Patterson, Tessa wound her way through the hallway to the library. She tucked the Danish in her reticule and walked the perimeter of the library, wishing she knew more about books. Hadn’t Nathan’s mother gone on and on about the various authors onboard? Maybe Tessa should read one of their books.

From across the room she caught a glimpse of a young woman about her same age. The warm smile emanating from the girl put her at ease right away.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” The young woman rose. “Maybe I could help you. I’ve spent a lot of hours here since we set sail.”

“I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for,” Tessa said. “I usually read fanciful novels. But maybe…” She tried to remember what Mrs. Patterson had said. “Maybe a mystery?”

“Ah. Mysteries.” The woman’s brows arched. “I love them… perhaps because life is such a mystery.” She perused the shelves, finally landing on a book with a red cover. Tessa glanced down at it and read the title:
T
HE
D
IAMOND
M
ASTER
.

“Yes, this will do.”

“The library is quiet this time of morning,” the young woman said. “Just have a seat anywhere you like. Oh, I suppose we should make introductions. It’s so nice to meet you, Miss—”

“T—Jacquie Abingdon.”

“Jacquie. Beautiful name. Very similar to my own. I’m Jessie, by the way. Jessie Leitch.” A genuine smile followed from the young woman. She pointed to a little girl who sat at a nearby table reading a picture book. “And this is Annie, my little cousin.”

“Nice to meet you. And Annie…” Tessa turned her attention to the child. “Good to meet you, as well.”

As Tessa settled into a plush chair, she took a peek at Jessie. By the standards of many onboard, the woman probably appeared plain. Ordinary. The traveling dress might not be of the latest fashion, but it was clean and pressed, the deep burgundy still rich in color. And the hat would not impress Iris, to be sure. But Jessie’s eyes sparkled with a vivaciousness that most did not possess. They emanated beauty of a different sort.

After a few moments of pretending to read the dull book, Tessa glanced up. She hated to break the silence in the room but decided to do so anyway. “Are you traveling alone?” she asked.

Jessie glanced up from her book. “No. We’re traveling with my uncle, John Harper. Do you know him?”

“Know him?” Tessa shook her head. “No. Should I?” A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about the possibilities of someone finding out who she really was.

“He’s a pastor in London. Quite well-known, so I thought perhaps you had heard of him.”

“I’m sorry. I have not.”

“Ah. Well, Annie here is his daughter. We’re traveling to Chicago because my uncle has been asked to take the pulpit at Moody Church for several weeks.” Jessie glanced toward the door. “We’re expecting him at any moment. In fact, I felt sure he would be here by now. He spends many hours in the library studying for his sermons.”

“I see.” Tessa turned her attention back to her book. Or, rather, pretended to. She couldn’t make heads or tails out of the story. She pulled her jacket a bit tighter, feeling a chill.

Jessie glanced her way and smiled. “I hear it’s going to be even colder tomorrow.”

“Yes.” A ripple of concern washed over Tessa. “I’ve heard talk of icebergs.”

With a wave of a hand, Jessie appeared to dismiss that idea. “I believe we’re traveling south of the danger zone. That’s my understanding, anyway. But don’t fret. This is the
Titanic
. Uncle John says she could melt an iceberg with a glance.”

Funny, how those words made Tessa think of Nathan. Hadn’t one look at his handsome face melted her heart? She pressed back a giggle and tried to stay focused.

Jessie closed her book and shifted her position. “They call
Titanic
a floating palace, you know. It’s Versailles and Buckingham all rolled into one.”