Cold April (15 page)

“
Richard!” Beth’s smile was guilty, as if he’d caught her out.

As quickly as the thought came, he rejected it. He’d seen them as he strode down the deck, watched her rise from the deck bench and hand Harry the coat to slip on. They had not been embracing. Even if they had, he realized his jealousy was unfounded and inappropriate. He had not made any serious advances toward Beth, nor admitted his growing feelings for her. Now he wished he had taken the opportunity to do so the night before. Had he, by his reluctance, unwittingly played into Palmer’s hand?

His good manners came to the fore, and he broke the uncomfortable silence. “Good evening, Mr. Palmer.”

Then he spotted Kathleen, cozily curled up on the bench, and took her into his arms. She gave him a loving, if sleepy smile. “Pa-pa! We flew a kite, and Jenny has had her kittens.” She lowered her head to rest on his shoulder.

“
Did you see the kittens?” he asked.

“
Yes, but only for a minute.” She closed her eyes again.

“
I’m so sorry, Richard,” Beth said. “I’m afraid I lost track of time. Mr. Palmer tore his coat during the kite flying, and I was sewing it up for him.”

“
I’m most grateful for her help.” Palmer looked as if he were waiting for what might come next.

Nothing if not socially correct, Richard reached out and shook hands with his rival. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it is growing late and my daughter ...”

“
I’m sorry,” Beth said again. “Of course you must have been terribly concerned. I suspect it’s dinner time.” She moved toward the doorway to the inner deck and he followed, still holding Kathleen.

“
Good evening,” Beth said, turning to Palmer.

Palmer made a slight bow. “Good evening, Miss Shallcross. Good evening, sir.”

They were silent as they journeyed back to B Deck and their own cabins. Beth seemed to be aware of the awkwardness and attempted to fill it by telling Richard about the kite flying and the children’s makeshift shuffleboard game. He barely heeded her.

“
I’m afraid that, unless you hurry, we shall be too late for dinner in the dining saloon.”

“
You go,” Beth said. “Kathleen and I will have the steward bring hot soup. I’m afraid she’s too sleepy to bathe and dress for dinner in public.”

As he put Kathleen down on her bed in Beth’s cabin, he could see she was right. “Very well.”

Although he’d changed into appropriate attire earlier—having expected Beth to return at any moment—he went through the sitting room and into his own cabin, where he stood before the mirror, adjusting his cravat, annoyed and frustrated. He didn’t feel angry—mostly because he had no right to be—and he was relieved to be dining alone. How could he carry on a normal conversation with Beth when there was so much he really wanted to say? To ask her if she cared for him, or if she was falling for Palmer.

What about after dinner? They had been spending evenings together, finding interesting topics of conversation, enjoying each other’s company as if their acquaintance spanned years instead of weeks. Like young lovers-to-be getting acquainted. How could he return to the sitting room after dinner and pretend nothing had happened?

Nothing had happened! Beth had taken Kathleen to play with other children, and quite by accident ended up sewing a tear in a man’s coat. Why did he keep thinking it meant something special to her? He must ask her, that’s all. He couldn’t. How could he question her motives and thoughts about another man when he had no right to do so, when he had said nothing about his intentions—honorable though they were—toward her? Until he made up his mind, he had no rights in the matter. He wasn’t ready to declare his love or ask her to marry him. They had plenty of time to decide on such an important step after they reached New York and established themselves in their new surroundings.

Another thing: after the squash game that afternoon, Col. Blakemore had asked him if he’d like to play cards after dinner. He had hedged, not wanting to be away from Beth for an entire evening, but now he knew he must accept. It would save him from having to decide how to behave toward Beth. Yet his choice made him feel like a coward.

* * *

Beth had already bathed Kathleen and put her in her night clothes when Richard entered from his own cabin, looking handsome as usual, albeit irritated.

“
After dinner I believe I’ll play a hand or two of cards with Col. Blakemore this evening. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“
No, of course not. I hope you enjoy yourself.”

So he was going to punish her. Ever since he’d come upon her, hands on Harry’s shoulders as he tried on his coat, she had a sudden sick feeling that Richard would not understand. During the past few days, he’d seemed on the brink of saying something romantic but had always backed off. She knew she had given him signals that she would welcome it. At least as many as a proper young lady ought to give. She couldn’t throw herself at him. Plus, there was always the possibility that his intentions were not serious—that he valued her mostly as a governess for Kathleen and an interesting traveling companion.

She’d told herself any number of times that—despite his assurances he considered her an equal—she had no future with him. Why should it upset her when he gave her positive proof of that?

They said good night, and she watched him open the door to the corridor. Hand upraised, as if ready to knock, Sir Hubert Thornton stood just outside.

“
I’ve come to invite you to dine with us,” Thornton said. “We’re going to try the Parisian Café.”

Beth heard Richard’s reply, “I was just going ...”

Just beyond her father’s shoulder stood Cecily. ”Do join us.” She came forward then, arm outstretched, another fabulous gown swathing her slender figure. “It’s too late for dinner in the dining saloon. When I saw you hadn’t come in, I said to father ...”

Sir Hubert shushed her with a look. “Miss Shallcross is welcome to come as well.”

Miss Shallcross was welcome? Miss Shallcross stood in the same dress she’d worn to bathe Kathleen moments earlier, her face flushed and her hair awry. She said nothing.

The steward chose that moment to arrive at the corridor door and, as Richard and the Thorntons made a path for him, he wheeled in a cart topped by a tray containing not only a large soup tureen, but warm rolls and even several desserts.

Richard looked uncertainly at Beth, who said, “Kathleen and I have decided to dine here, so you must go to the Parisian Café without me.” She swallowed a lump in her throat before adding, “Do enjoy yourselves. Good night.”

Without another word, Richard left the stateroom, nudging the others backwards. The door closed behind him.

Beth stood there for a long moment, feeling as if a leaden weight had dropped on her. Richard was going to dine with Cecily instead of her. This had obviously been planned in advance, or why would they all decide to try the café instead of the dining saloon? Her insides were in knots. Kathleen, barefoot, her robe open and its belt dragging on the floor, entered the sitting room. Wiping her eyes on a napkin, Beth pulled chairs up to the table for herself and the girl.

She forced herself to sit in a chair, swallow some soup, and see that Kathleen ate hers. Afterward she read a story to the child and tucked her in bed. All the while goblins danced in her middle and tears threatened to flow from behind her eyelids.

Finally, in the sleeping alcove of the cabin they shared, Kathleen looked up from the cocoon of her covers. “Miss Beth?”

“
Yes, dear?”

“
Where’s Toby? I have to put her to sleep.”

“
Toby, your doll? I haven’t seen her.”

“
I gave her to you when I went to play the game with Emma and Josie.”

“
Oh yes, I remember, but I gave her back to you when you finished the game. Did you take her to see the kittens?”

“
I don’t remember. I can’t find her.” She was near tears.

“
Do you remember holding her while Mr. Palmer flew the kite?”

“
I wanted to fly the kite. I put her down.”

Beth tried to remain calm so Kathleen could think carefully. “Do you remember where you put her? Was it on a deck bench?”

Kathleen’s little face puckered into a frown. “No. I remember now. I put her on the floor under a bench.”

“
Under a bench?”

“
I didn’t want Josie to take her. I know she wanted Toby for herself.” Tears began to flow. “Then I forgot.”

Beth put her arms around the child and rocked her gently. “It’s all right. We’ll find her. Go to sleep now, and we’ll find her tomorrow.” She tried for a smile. “Maybe Toby will like sleeping outdoors for one night. It will be an adventure, just like your adventure of being on this ship.”

“
I want Toby now. I can’t go to sleep without her.”

Beth laid Kathleen back on the pillow and lifted strands of hair from her wet cheeks. “I’ll find her and bring her here.”

“
Promise?”

“
I promise, but you must promise me something, too. When I turn out the light, you must close your eyes. Will you do that?”

Fatigue weakened her voice. “Yes.”

Beth turned out the light and went into the sitting room, leaving the connecting door open. Instead of sitting, however, she pushed the food cart out into the ship’s corridor and paced the floor. She wished she hadn’t promised to find Toby. Kathleen had left the doll under a bench on the deck hours before. Anything could have happened to it since then. Josie, or someone else, had probably taken it. Besides, she couldn’t go out to find it and leave Kathleen alone. She’d had to decline dinner in the Parisian Café and now this. She pounded her fist in her hand and stifled the urge to cry.

She finally decided that, promise or no, the search would have to wait until morning. She returned to her cabin, shutting the door to the sitting room behind her. Closing the curtains around Kathleen’s alcove so the light wouldn’t disturb her, she tried reading, but her mind refused to concentrate on the printed words. Finally she decided a warm bath would relax her and went into their private lavatory.

She filled the tub, added bubble bath crystals she found in a cupboard, and leaned back, eyes closed. She thought of Richard—his charming smile, his handsome face, his long strong body. She ran her hands over her own naked body. What would it feel like to have Richard’s hands caressing her breasts and hips? The very thought brought warm sensations through her limbs, even through the already cooling bath water.

Now she knew that would never happen. Richard was dining with Cecily, and soon he’d realize Beth’s few attributes were no match for Cecily’s beauty and fortune. She pulled the towel toward her and rose from the tub. As she stood drying herself, she heard noises coming from the hallway. Someone entered the stateroom by the hall door.

Richard had returned. Probably not from playing cards with Col. Blakemore, as he’d told her. Richard and Cecily had most likely spent the evening listening to the orchestra or strolling the darkened deck, arm in arm.

Wrapped in her dressing gown, she returned to her cabin and pressed her ear to the connecting sitting room door. Nothing. Richard must have gone into his own cabin instead. She sat on the edge of the couch, which she would soon turn into her bed, and wondered what to do next. Should she dress, go into the sitting room and wait for Richard to come in, that is, if he did?

In the silence she heard Richard’s door open and wondered if he intended to go out again. Then she heard him scuttling about the sitting room, apparently turning on the electric fireplace and pulling up a chair. Minutes passed and he didn’t call to her. She opened her door a crack and saw that his back was toward her.

Very well. Two could play at that cold shoulder business. She would probably never have him for a husband, so why worry what he thought? Other men found her attractive, one right here on the ship. Harry had said that a party would be held that night in third class. He had invited her, said he wanted to dance with her. The thought pleased her, yet she felt guilty about wanting to go.

Suddenly, she remembered Kathleen’s doll. She’d promised to look for it and, now that Richard had returned, she could go out and search the third-class deck for Toby. In fact, she needed to do that quickly, before someone—stewards or a cleaning crew—swept the deck, found Toby and took her away.

With growing excitement, she pulled off the dressing gown and put on clean undergarments and a dark blue two-piece dress. Richard was in the stateroom and, although he was not, strictly speaking, watching Kathleen, he was not far away. She would leave the connecting door open so he could hear the child if she called.

She pulled a heavy shawl out of the wardrobe, threw it around her shoulders and left the cabin.

Chapter 15

Beth walked sedately down the steps of the Grand Staircase to C Deck, then along the narrow corridor toward the stern, as she had now done several times. Long before she reached it, she could hear loud sounds coming from that direction and wondered if they disturbed any first-class passengers who had cabins on that deck.

She didn’t enter the room, however. Her mission was to find the doll, and she went out onto the same deck where they’d played games that afternoon. The moment she opened the door, a stiff breeze stung her cheeks and penetrated the woolen shawl, chilling her arms. The air smelled faintly of smoke and sea water.