Titanic Affair (19 page)

‘I couldn’t possibly accept it,’ began Emilia, taken aback.

‘Why not? If you have it, it won’t be wasteful, and I won’t feel mean for buying it. It’s such a pretty frock. It’s got beads all over the bodice, and you should see the way they shine! You’ll look lovely in it. It will suit you.’ She looked at Emilia consideringly. ‘It’s just the colour of your eyes. Say you’ll have it, dear.’

‘Well . . . ’

Emilia was torn. On the one hand she wanted to help Mrs Latimer,  and the gown sounded like a dream come true, but on the other hand she did not feel she could possible accept such a generous gift.

‘It would show those old biddies a thing or two,’ Mrs Latimer tempted her. ‘In all my life I’ve never heard anything worse than what they were saying the other night. "What’s she wearing? Her grandmother’s dress?" ’ she said, mimicking some of the comments that had followed Emilia when she had worn Aunt Clem’s old gown.

‘That wasn’t the worst,’ confided Emilia. ‘The night before, I wore a home-made dress. They amused themselves by wondering if I’d know which cutlery to use, and whether I’d drink out of the finger bowl.’

‘Then that’s that,’ said Mrs Latimer.

Emilia made her decision.

‘It’s very kind of you . . . ’

‘Good. A bit of kindness to set against a bit of unkindness. What could be better than that?’

‘Thank you,’ said Emilia. ‘I’d love to wear it.’

‘I’ll send Miss Epson round with it.’

The clock on the mantelpiece chimed the hour.

‘Is that the time?’ said Mrs Latimer. ‘I didn’t know how late it was getting, I’ve been enjoying myself so much. Now I have to go. I said I’d meet Carl in the café for lunch.’

She said goodbye, then left Emilia with happy thoughts.

A Worth gown! She could hardly believe it. She had always been an admirer of the great couturier. She and Aunt Clem had often poured over his clothes in
La Mode Illustrée
, and the idea that she would soon be wearing one of his creations was exhilarating. She did not have long to wait to see it. Ten minutes later, Miss Epson arrived with a large box.

‘Oh, I’m so glad you’re going to wear the dress,’ she sighed. ‘It’s so beautiful, and it will look lovely with your golden hair. Oh, dear, I shouldn’t be standing here gossiping. I must be getting back to Mrs Latimer in case she wants me.’

She left Emilia alone with the box.

Unable to resist, Emilia opened it.

Swathes of tissue paper met her eyes. Carefully she opened them to reveal the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. The beading on the bodice was intricate, and sparkled in the light. The waist was high, following the fashionable Empire line. The skirt was indeed beautiful, falling in a column to the floor. But it was the colour that Emilia loved most. She picked up the gown and carried it over to the mirror, holding it up in front of herself. It was a rich blue that brought out the full beauty of her creamy complexion and her sapphire eyes.

There would be no jeering remarks directed towards her clothes tonight. Even in such exalted company, she would be wearing the most beautiful gown in the dining-room.

She could hardly wait!

After lunch, a telegraph arrived from Charles.

Dear Emilia,
it read
. What wonderful news. I’m delighted to hear you’re on board
Titanic
. Julia and I will meet you on the pier. She’s a marvellous girl, Emilia. I love her very much, and so will you. We’re both looking forward to seeing you and we insist on you staying with us whilst you’re in
New York
. Julia wants to take you round all the best shops and I want to find out what’s been happening in
England
since I left.

Love from

Charles.

The telegraph brought back warm memories of Charles. He sounded more mature than the last time she had seen him. Falling in love with Julia, not to mention taking a job in antiques, seemed to have done him good. The engagement was clearly a happy one, and as he was making a success of his new job, she thought the move to
America
had been an excellent idea. However, her pleasure in his telegraph and in his invitation to stay was mixed with doubts. Would she be safe with him? Or would Barker or Silas Montmerency try to abduct her in
New York
?

She thought again of Carl’s offer. It was very tempting. But she knew that if she stayed with him she would not be able to keep her feelings in check. No, it was far better to stay with Charles.

Besides, she was looking forward to seeing him. She had not seen him for years, not since her parents’ death, and she, like him, wanted to catch up on all the news. And of course she wanted to get to know Julia. Once in
New York
she was sure would have an enjoyable time. She would renew her friendship with Charles, meet Julia, make an account of all the new sights and sounds, and then regale her godmother with them when she finally reached
Ireland
.

And once she was away from Carl Latimer, she told herself bracingly, she would put him out of her mind for good.

Emilia’s eyes sparkled as she looked in the mirror. Mrs McLaren had kindly helped her to dress, and now here she was in the most exquisite gown she’d ever seen, with her mother’s pearls around her throat, looking every bit as though she belonged in a first-class stateroom on board the
Titanic
.

She pulled on her evening gloves, then patting her hair one last time, she left her stateroom and made her way through the ship until she came to the Grand Staircase. It was lit up in spectacular style. The electric lights shone and dazzled, bringing the carved wood of the banisters alive with a warm glow. Below her was a crowd of elegantly-dressed people. The ladies were dressed in just the sort of gowns she and Aunt Clem had enjoyed poring over in
La Mode Illustrée
. She saw minutely-pleated gowns obviously designed by Fortuny, together with draped gowns by Poiret and others that, like her own, bore all the hallmarks of Maison Worth. The colours were rich and glowing, and brilliant shades of emerald, cerise and royal blue competed with bright flames and golds. The gentlemen’s clothes provided a foil, their white shirts, white bow ties and white waistcoats being teamed with black trousers and tailcoats.

At the foot of the stairs was Mrs Latimer. Next to her was Carl. He was resplendent in evening dress. His broad shoulders and long legs suited the clothes, showing their fine cut. With Carl and Mrs Latimer was a middle-aged couple.

As she began to descend the staircase, Carl looked up and saw her.

She felt a flutter in her breast and her heart started to beat more quickly. He was staring. And as his eyes ran over her, she was aware of the fact that his glance was admiring. She hesitated on the landing, feeling ridiculously pleased, and yet at the same time suddenly self-conscious.

He walked towards her, climbing the stairs, his eyes fixed on her as though he saw no one else.

‘You look beautiful,’ he said.

His voice was low and husky, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘Will you join us for dinner?’ he asked. ‘My mother and I are entertaining a small party at our table.’

She felt a deep regret. She would have liked nothing better than to dine with him, but she had promised Pansy and Robert she would join them.

‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I’m engaged to dine with the Wainfleets,’ she said.

‘If that’s the only problem, I’ll invite them to join us, too.’

He gave her his arm, and she rested her hand lightly on it. Even that small contact sent shivers through her body.

Then together they walked down the stairs.

‘Well, you do look lovely,’ said Mrs Latimer, kissing her on the cheek. ‘I knew that frock would suit you, but I never knew it would look like that. You look lovely, dear.’

Emilia disclaimed the compliment, but could not help being pleased. She felt beautiful tonight.

‘Miss Cavendish was due to dine with the Wainfleets,’ said Carl to his guests. ‘I have suggested the three of them join us for dinner.’

‘Well, what a good idea,’ said Mrs Latimer.

‘Excellent,’ said the lady.

‘Miss Cavendish, may I present Mr and Mrs Thirske?’ said Carl, performing the introductions.

Just as he finished the introductions, Pansy and Robert descended the staircase, and he invited them cordially to join his party.

Pansy’s eyebrows rose with excitement.

‘Oh, yes, that sounds very nice. We’d be honoured, wouldn’t we, Robert?’

Robert professed himself very happy, and they all went into the dining-room together.

‘Emilia, you look ravishing,’ said Pansy, as the two ladies took their place at table. ‘Where did you get that gown?’

Emilia told her the story as they settled themselves, whilst the Thirskes occupied Carl and his mother with a conversation about the play they had seen in
Southampton
before boarding the boat.

‘Do you know, I think your beau’s one of the most handsome men on the ship - after Robert, of course,’ Pansy said in a low voice to Emilia.

‘He’s not my beau,’ protested Emilia.

‘No? Why else would he ask us to dine with him?’ asked Pansy.

‘Because I helped his mother. He’s grateful,’ Emilia told her, explaining the circumstances.

‘He doesn’t look like a man who’s grateful to me,’ said Pansy. ‘He looks like a man who’s in love.’

‘You couldn’t be more wrong,’ said Emilia, flushing. ‘Mr Latimer has no feelings for me beyond gratitude, and perhaps a little friendship.

There was something in her voice that put an end to Pansy’s banter, and she was relieved to find that Pansy allowed her to turn the conversation into more general channels.

As Emilia glanced at the splendid menu she thought how much had changed since the last time she had sat at Carl’s table. Then she had had feelings for him, it was true, but now they were so much deeper. And no matter how much she told herself she should not be encouraging them, she found she could not drive them away. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man, without even knowing it. He was strong yet tender; powerful but not brutal. He was intriguing and mesmerising and wonderfully desirable, she thought, as she glanced at him across the table.

And he was also spoken for.

With a sinking feeling she remembered the magazine article, and the words of Mrs Gisborne. Carl was shortly to become engaged to Miss Isabelle Stott.

Emilia was about to turn  her eyes towards her menu again when he looked up, as if feeling her eyes on him. She tried to look away, but she could not do it. Their eyes held. There was something magnetic in his glance which caught her fast.