Titanic Affair (12 page)

How had she done it? he wondered, as he took a drink of brandy and lit a cigar. How had one slight slip of a girl managed to change his opinion so radically on such a number of important subjects?

He thought back to their first encounter, when he had offered to buy her stateroom.

"Money can’t buy everything", she had told him, and he had not believed her. But she had been right. It had not been able to buy everything - or indeed anything, as far as Emilia was concerned. It had been unable to buy her stateroom for his mother. And it had been unable to buy her good opinion. It was then he had realized that money was not the magic wand he had long believed it to be.

It wasn’t that he now underestimated its power. Far from it. He knew what money could do. It had saved him and his family from a life of grinding poverty, and it had provided food for his mother, his father and his nine brothers and sisters.

Sadly, their number had now dwindled to seven.

Infant mortality was the darkest side of poverty, children dying for lack of hygienic living conditions and medical care. Both Will and Ellen had died of pneumonia: his rise to fortune had come too late for them. But not too late for Sarah, Harry, Vicky, Martha, Ted, Gus and John. They were all now leading comfortable lives. Sarah and Vicky were married and, thanks to his fortune, had pleasant houses in a leafy suburb, with clean air for the children to breathe and servants to help them around the house. Harry, Ted and Gus had set up their own businesses, and were doing very well. John, with his help, had trained to be a doctor, and Martha was training to be a nurse.

No, he wasn’t in any danger of underestimating money and the power it wielded. But, until he had met Emilia, he had overestimated it. It had taken her to remind him of its true worth.

‘What do you think of this feud between Roosevelt and Taft, Latimer?’ asked one of the other gentlemen.

The question broke in on his thoughts.

He took a sip of brandy, mentally reviewing the portions of conversation he had overheard and realizing the political situation was under discussion. There was a long-standing feud between ex-President Theodore Roosevelt and President William Taft. Both were able and gifted men, but both had strong opinions and conflict was inevitable.

‘I think it’s been going on for far too long,’ he said. ‘They need to bury their differences.
Roosevelt
still has a lot of supporters, and if the party splits then it’s going to suffer.’

‘Hear, hear. They ought to start working together instead of calling each other names,’ the gentleman agreed.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said another gentleman lazily. ‘I think Taft got it about right when he called Roosevelt a dangerous egotist.’

‘About as right as
Roosevelt
got it when he called Taft a fathead and a puzzlewit!’ laughed another gentleman.

A range of opinions broke out amongst the gentlemen, and Carl was free to return to his silence and his thoughts. A few days ago it would have been unthinkable to him that a woman would matter more to him than politics or business, but now those things seemed stale and uninteresting. Whereas he found Emilia fascinating, because it was not only in his view of money that she had changed him, she had made him see other aspects of his life in a different light. When he had boarded the ship a few short days before, he had been contemplating marriage to one of the well-connected but impoverished young ladies to whom he was constantly being introduced.

Miss Miranda Pargeter was one of them. Miss Pargeter came from a powerful family with political connections, and would have made him an elegant and intelligent wife. She was good looking and immaculately dressed, and a marriage to her would have given him influential contacts if he had had a mind run for election at some future date.

Then there had been Miss Isabelle Stott. Miss Stott’s family were old and well-connected, with entrées into every level of society. Ordinarily, they would have considered him beneath them, but their fortunes had suffer a reverse in recent times and they were actively looking for a wealthy husband for Isabelle. Not that they had admitted their poverty, of course. They had at all times kept up appearances. But he had looked into their circumstances and discovered that they were almost bankrupt. That, he assumed, was the reason for them leaking news of a "forthcoming engagement" with Isabelle to one of the society magazines, in an effort to force his hand. It hadn’t worked. But he had still considered Isabelle as a possible wife.

And then there had been Miss Olive Theakston. Miss Theakston’s family had had a different reason for wishing for an alliance. Miss Theakston’s father was, like him, a self-made man, and a marriage between the two families would have smoothed the way for a business merger between the two businesses. It would have been very lucrative for all concerned.

They were all elegant, refined and intelligent young women; all suitable matches. And all, when he had boarded the ship, people he had been contemplating spending the rest of his life with.

He finished his brandy and went out on deck. It was cold, but he wanted some fresh air. As he went over to the rail his thoughts returned to Emilia. Unlike the other women he knew, she had not reacted to his wealth. Instead, she had reacted to him as a man. Arguing with him, berating him, teasing him, laughing with him . . . But that was not the whole of it. Emilia was someone he could admire and respect. Her own life did not seem to have been easy, and yet there was no trace of self-pity or bitterness in her. He admired her for it, as he admired her for the way she had stood up to him, defending the needs of an elderly lady she did not even know. He respected her for sticking to her principles and refusing to sell her stateroom, no matter what the temptation. And he enjoyed her company. He could not remember when he had ever enjoyed anyone’s company more.

And then there were the feelings she roused in him, by her softness and her vulnerability, feelings of protectiveness. When she had run into his arms on deck, he had wanted to shield her from whatever it was that had frightened her.

He went back inside, to the inane chatter that surrounded him.

It no longer seemed enticing to marry into one of the first families in
America
, adding his wealth to an old name and thereby creating a powerful union, or to marry in order to cement a business merger which would result in yet more millions.

Both ideas, which had been a source of such interest to him only a few days before, now left him cold.

‘Good morning, miss,’ said Emilia’s stewardess cheerfully as she drew back the curtains in Emilia’s bedroom and let in the spring sunshine.

‘Good morning,’ said Emilia.

‘Did you sleep well?

Emilia hesitated. In fact, she had slept badly, tossing and turning as she had been plagued by conflicting emotions. She had been intensely drawn to Carl Latimer and the news that he was engaged, or as good as engaged, had disturbed her deeply. Still, she could not tell her stewardess these things, and so she replied brightly, ‘Yes, thank you.’

She dressed quickly, slipping on her camisole, drawers and corset before putting a square-necked dress on top of them, then brushed her golden hair before arranging it into a fashionable chignon set low at the back of her neck. Her toilette completed, she set out for the dining-room. A quick glance reassured her that Carl was not present, and having eaten her fill of poached eggs, scones, fruit and marmalade, she returned to her stateroom and composed her telegram to Charles.

Dear Charles
, she began.

I am aboard
Titanic.
I will be arriving in
New York
on Wednesday. Can I see you? Emilia Cavendish.

It was short and to the point. Anything more would have to wait until she saw him.

She was about to make her way to the telegraph office when she hesitated. Barker was still at large on the ship, and it was possible he would try to kidnap her. But he would be stopped by the stewards if he tried to enter the first class part of the ship, she reassured herself, and even if he did, by some chance, slip through, he could not drag her all the way back to steerage without anyone seeing. Unsettling though it was to know that he was on board, she did not believe he could do her any harm until the ship reached
New York
, and she had no intention of remaining in her cabin all day just because he was aboard. There was too much she wanted to see.

The telegraph office was busy, as usual, but she was assured her telegraph would be sent that morning, and as she handed it over she considered what to do next. She decided to spend the day visiting the Turkish baths and the gymnasium. She longed to see them in their own right, but she also knew she would not see Carl there as men and women used them at different times of the day. If she should, by chance, encounter him anywhere about the ship she would treat him with cool politeness. She was sure he would be horrified if he realized she had read anything into his attentions other than thanks for helping his mother, and she did not mean to disgrace herself by allowing him to guess that she had feelings for him.

The Turkish baths were in a part of the ship she had not yet visited, and she had to ask one of the stewards where she could find them. She was directed to the lower part of the ship. She had never had a Turkish bath and did not know quite what to expect, but the woman in charge explained it to her, telling her about the hot, temperate and cool rooms, and explaining the use of the massage couch and the plunge pool.

She undressed, wrapping herself in a towel,  and went in.

Like everything else on board
Titanic
the Turkish Baths were magnificent. The walls were made of enamelled tiles in rich shades of blue and green, whilst blue and white tiles covered the floor. Bronze lamps hung from the ceiling, which was supported by slender, intricately carved pillars. Couches upholstered in vibrant orange were arranged around the walls, and small tables were set in between them. She felt as though she had wandered into a scene from the Arabian Nights.

She enjoyed the novel experience of the baths, falling into conversation with a number of other ladies who were enjoying themselves in the hot and steamy rooms. She decided to have a massage, and found it extremely relaxing, then went through to the plunge pool.

It was in the plunge pool she made the acquaintance of Mrs Pansy Wainfleet.

‘Isn’t this heavenly?’ asked Mrs Wainfleet, as she relaxed in the cooling water.

‘It’s wonderful,’ agreed Emilia.

‘My name is Pansy, by the way, Pansy Wainfleet,’ said Pansy, introducing herself.

Pansy was a few years older than Emilia, being in her late twenties. She had dark hair, dark eyes, and Emilia warmed to her straight away.

‘Emilia Cavendish,’ said Emilia.

‘I’m very pleased to meet you.’

Emilia did not find it surprising that Pansy had introduced herself without waiting for a mutual acquaintance to perform the ceremony. On board ship an informality prevailed that would have been unthinkable on dry land.

‘Have you ever taken a Turkish bath before?’ asked Pansy, as she stretched herself in the cooling water.

‘No,’ confessed Emilia. ‘This is my first one.’

‘Mine, too,’ said Pansy. ‘I never thought I would take one on board a ship, but there is so much to do on
Titanic
. It’s like no other ship I’ve ever been on. It offers so many opportunities, and all of them interesting and enjoyable.’

Emilia agreed.

‘Have you been on a big ship before?’ asked Pansy.

‘Never,’ confessed Emilia. ‘This is my first time.’

‘Robert and I cross the
Atlantic
regularly,’ said Pansy. ‘His business is in America, which is where we live, but we still have family in England and we like to visit them as often as possible. I couldn’t believe it when he said we’d be returning on the
Titanic
. We were meant to be travelling on the
Philadelphia
but she was laid up because of the coal strike and so we transferred to the
Titanic
instead. I’m so glad we did.’