Titanic Affair (15 page)

‘What will you do when we get there?’ he asked. ‘Will you put up at a hotel until you can arrange for your return passage?’

‘A hotel, or a lodging house.’

‘And do you intend to see the sights?’

‘I do. I have a friend living over there who sells antiques, and I am hoping he will show me round.’

‘Him?’

‘Yes.’

‘I see. Have you telegraphed to let him know you’re coming?’

‘Of course. I did so as soon as I thought of it. I haven’t had a reply yet, but I think he will be pleased to see me.’

‘Ah.’ he hesitated. ‘He is someone special?’ he asked.

His tone was superficially light, but there was an edge to his voice, and a tenseness about him that told her he was keeping himself in check. For some reason the idea that Charles might be special bothered him.

‘Yes. He is a very dear friend of mine. I’ve know Charles since we were children,’ she replied.

‘Oh. A friend. Then he is not your fiancé?’

His question startled her, and also flustered her.

‘I hardly think that’s any of your business,’ she replied.

‘It might not be any of my business, but I’m curious.’ He stopped and turned to look at her. His eyes traced the lines of her face. ‘You’re a beautiful young woman, Emilia, and yet you’re not married. You’ve known poverty, but you’ve also known something better. Have you never been tempted to marry in order to get back what you lost?’

The idea brought back vivid memories. Bad memories, of Mr Silas Montmerency saying, ‘Give in to me, Emilia. You’ll have a fine house n fine clothes. I’ll make you the first lady in
Southampton
,’ and of him pawing her with an evil madness in his eye.

‘No. Never,’ she said vehemently, taking her hand from Carl’s arm.

He looked at her curiously, and she could tell her was surprised by her reaction.

‘To marry to escape poverty,’ she continued more calmly. ‘It isn’t worth —’

She broke off suddenly.

‘It isn’t worth what?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ she said, biting her tongue.

‘You were intrigued by me. When we danced at dinner, I satisfied your curiosity. Won’t you satisfy mine?’

There was an intensity to his gaze that unsettled her. His questions seemed prompted by more than idle curiosity. It was as though he wanted to come to know her, and find out what events had shaped her personality. The idea made her afraid. It was too intimate. If she told him too much about herself she would find it very difficult not to draw close to him. And that would be unwise.

‘There’s really nothing to tell,’ she said lightly.

She turned away from him. As she did so, she caught sight of something that made her shiver. It was a figure on the third-class poop deck. Barker.

‘You’re cold,’ said Carl, seeing her shiver. ‘We’ll go in. Will you join me in the café for a cup of coffee?’

‘No. I’m sorry, I can’t,’ she said hastily, turning her back towards the poop deck in an effort to escape Barker’s notice. ‘I - have an appointment,’ she said, thinking quickly. She must go below before Barker saw her, no matter how rude she appeared. ‘I arranged to meet Pansy. I’ve only just remembered. Please excuse me. I must go.’

And then before he could try and stop her she hurried away, back along the deck and down the stairs. Seeing Barker had reawakened all her fears. For the time being she was safe enough, but once they neared
New York
she would no longer be safe. With all the bustle of disembarkation, it would be easy for Barker to strike.

Even worse, she could not think what to do about it.

Below deck, in a sumptuous first class stateroom, Mrs Gisborne was reclining on a damask-upholstered sofa.

‘Where’s that magazine,’ said her husband, as he looked through a pile of newspapers and magazines on the console table. ‘You know the one I mean, Margaret. The one with the article about the stud.’

Mrs Gisborne shifted slightly but did not reply.

‘It was here on Thursday. This is ridiculous, where can it have got to?’ He called out to the maid. ‘Janice . . . Janice,’ he called.

‘If you are going to ask Janice where it is you needn’t bother,’ said his wife, idly turning the pages of her book. ‘It isn’t here. I . . . lent it to someone.’

‘Well you can just unlend it,’ he said. ‘There was an article on Hugo’s stud I wanted to read.’

‘You can’t have it,’ she said.

His eyes sharpened. ‘Why can’t I? What do you mean?’

‘I mean I gave it to Miss Cavendish, and I am not about to ask for it back.’

‘Miss Cavendish? What the devil would Miss Cavendish want with - ah. The picture of Carl and Isabelle.’

His wife sat up and put her book aside. ‘There’s no use letting the poor girl encourage unfortunate feelings for him,’ she said. ‘I wanted to put her on her guard.’

‘Wanted to scare her off, you mean,’ he grumbled.

‘And you don’t?’ she demanded. ‘You would like to see Isabelle reduced to rags?’

‘No . . . well . . . ’ he blustered.

‘Because that’s what she will be, if Latimer doesn’t come up to scratch. My poor sister’s been penniless since Paul died. She thought he’d leave her well provided for, but instead he left her nothing but debts. A good marriage for Isabelle is the only thing that can save them both from the poorhouse, and I’m not about to let a jumped up little nobody take him away from her.’

‘It seems a bit rough on Latimer,’ said Thomas, pursing his lips.

‘I don’t see why. Carl Latimer is a dear boy, and he is delighted to be marrying into such a well-connected family,’ she returned. ‘And why shouldn’t he be? Isabelle’s beautiful, charming and elegant. Together they’ll have fine children, and her connections will bring him everything his heart desires.’

‘Carl Latimer’s no boy, and if you ask me, this idea you’ve got of making a pet of him won’t work out. He might be marrying Isabelle for her connections, but you’d do well to tread warily until the ring’s on her finger. There are plenty of other hard-up young women with good families who’d love to have such a fine looking man in the family, especially one who happens to be a millionaire.’

A frown crossed her exquisitely made-up face.

‘You could be right. The Pargeters have been chasing him.. So have the Theakstons. The sooner Isabelle fixes his interest the better.’ She thought. ‘It would be a good idea if Susan and Isabelle came to meet him when she ship docks in
New York
. Perhaps they’d better make it look like an accident - in fact, they can pretend they are meeting me. If Isabelle is there at the pier, looking elegant and glamorous, it will remind him just how inferior Miss Cavendish is. She’s all very well for a shipboard romance, but when it comes to the serious business of marriage, the sight of Isabelle should remind him that only a well-bred and well-connected wife will do. I’ll telegraph Susan straight away and let her know.’

Mr Gisborne picked up a newspaper. ‘If you say so. But I still think Latimer will slip the net.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Mrs Gisborne calmly. ‘Depend upon it. Between us, Susan, Isabelle and I will make sure he comes up to scratch.’

Emilia had arranged to meet Pansy and Robert for lunch, and at
twelve o’clock
she joined them in the dining-room. They seated themselves at a table next to one of the leaded-light windows overlooking the ocean.

‘I’m starving,’ said Pansy, she picked up the menu. ‘Robert and I were up early. I have already been for a walk along the deck and a swim this morning. I could eat a horse!’

‘It looks like horse is the one thing that isn’t on the menu,’ joked Robert.

Emilia’s eye ran down the mouth-watering dishes on offer.

There was a choice of soup, with fish to follow, and there was a selection from the grill. As if this wasn’t enough, there was also a buffet, with salmon, shrimps, herrings, sardines, roast meats, pies, hams, sausages and salads. Afterwards, a tempting selection of cheeses vied with a choice of pastries. She would need another walk after lunch!

Having made their selection, they ordered what they wanted and exchanged news of their morning. Emilia, however, found it hard to concentrate on what Pansy was saying. The sight of Barker had reminded her of her danger and made her anxious, and she found herself worrying about what would happen when the ship neared
New York
. Would he try and kidnap her whilst she was still on the ship? She thought not. He would be more likely to do it once the ship had docked.

‘Tell me,’ she said, when Pansy had finished telling her about the swimming pool. ‘What happens when we disembark?’

‘We get off at one of the piers,’ said Pansy. ‘It’s very much like embarkation, except we walk down the gangplank instead of up.’

‘Do the different classes of accommodation disembark separately?’ she asked casually.

‘Oh, yes. They have their own gangplanks,’ Pansy said.

‘And at customs?’ she asked. ‘What happens then? Do first class passengers go through separately, or do they mingle with people from steerage?’

Pansy looked curious. ‘Do you know, I’d never really thought about it. Do we see anyone from steerage when we go through customs?’ she asked Robert.

Robert was busy sipping
Munich
lager beer.

‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘I don’t think so, but I’ve never noticed. Don’t worry,’ he continued, smiling reassuringly at Emilia, ‘people in steerage are really not that bad, you know. They’re mostly clean, and some of them are quite decent. It’s always as well to hold on to your possessions, of course. There’s no point in putting temptation in people’s way. But you’ve nothing to fear from them.’

Realizing they had misunderstood her interest, she thought of telling them what it was that was troubling her, but she did not want to burden them with her problems. Besides, she did not think they would be able to help her. Charming though Pansy and Robert were, she could not imagine them knowing how to deal with someone like Barker.

But Carl would know how to deal with him.

It was an unwelcome thought, but she could not deny the truth of it. He was used to mixing with people from all walks of life, and on his way up from poverty he must have had many difficult situations to deal with. If only she could ask him about it, she felt sure he would be able to advise her on what precautions she should take against being abducted.

However, she had no intention of asking him. In order to explain the situation she would have to tell him about herself, and she was not ready to do so. It would involve them in further intimacy, and she was already growing too close to him. She must not allow herself to grow any closer.

Her distraction, fortunately, had gone unnoticed. Pansy was in fine form, regaling her with stories about the card sharps who had boarded the ship with the hope of fleecing the wealthy passengers.

‘Do you see that man sitting over there?’ she asked, indicating a man sitting by himself at a nearby table. That’s "Tom" McAuliffe. He’s part of a band of card sharps on the ship. He’s well known to the police. ‘

‘Really, Pansy, I don’t think this is a suitable subject for conversation over lunch,’ said her husband reprovingly.