Queen of the Waves
“Don’t let me keep you, then.” Roland kissed the back of Jacquie’s hand then gazed into her eyes. “There’s nothing I would deny you, sweet girl. If you ask me for the world, I will do my best to give it to you.”
“Th–thank you, Roland.” She climbed into the cab, took the seat next to Iris, and leaned her throbbing head back as the driver closed the door. For a moment she thought she might be ill. Closing her eyes, she fought the feeling with every fiber of her being.
By the time her eyes opened, the cab was moving down the lane, away from Abingdon Manor—and away from everything she had ever held dear.
Nathan did his best to help the bellman with his mother’s trunks, but they were ridiculously heavy after her latest shopping spree. Hopefully her many purchases wouldn’t weigh down the ship. If so, they were all in trouble. He chuckled just thinking about the potential for disaster.
Mother scurried around the lobby of the Savoy, fussing at Nathan the whole way. “We need to hurry, my dear. First-class passengers will start boarding in two hours, and it takes nearly that long to get to Southampton from here.”
From around the corner of the hotel lobby, James Carson appeared with his luggage. Nathan looked back and forth between Mother and the pesky fellow.
“Are you leaving today too, James?” Nathan asked.
“Well, of course. Thanks to the coal strike, my ticket to board the Lusitania was switched to the Titanic.” He offered a smile. “So it looks as if we will all be traveling together. A happy problem, at least from my perspective. I do hope you both agree.”
“Well, isn’t that wonderful.” Mother clasped her gloved hands together in apparent glee. “A lady always feels more at ease when traveling with a gentleman she trusts.”
Nathan bit his tongue as he looked away from the unlikely pair. Two things bothered him about his mother’s statement. One, she had acknowledged both her desire and her need for James Carson to travel alongside them. Two, she clearly didn’t see her own son as a grown man. If she did, she would surely realize that she was already traveling with a gentleman and did not require an additional one at her side.
Strange. The only person who appeared to be ill at ease this morning was Nathan. He prayed the feeling would pass before he boarded the ship for home.
Chapter Nine
Wednesday Morning, April 10, 1912
Southampton, England, near the White Star Line Dock
At exactly ten o’clock in the morning, Jacquie peered through the limousine window at the crowd in Southampton. Hundreds of people swarmed around them, much like mosquitoes coming in for the kill. Many moved at a frenzied pace; still others milled about, curious onlookers.
“I never expected such a frenzy.” Mother’s eyes widened as she glanced about.
“Nor I. Have you ever seen so many people clustered into one space?” Jacquie gazed at the scene with wonder. Truly, one could scarcely imagine so many people converging upon a town in such numbers as had gathered in Southampton to see the illustrious ship cast off to sea. And what a vast array of people, at that! They came on bicycles and in cars. In carriages and on foot. Folks in every sort of garb—traveling clothes, uniforms, and more. She pressed her nose against the window to have a closer look.
To her right, Jacquie saw a woman in a fur stole and a feather-plumed hat. Next to her, a younger woman in a high-collared green dress. Many of the others wore black or gray traveling coats, but several turned up in their spring finest in spite of an undeniable nip in the air. Likely they cared more about impressing onlookers than the weather.
To Jacquie’s left, Iris laughed. “Oh my!” She pointed down the street. “See that double-decker horse-drawn carriage? I’ve never seen such a thing.”
Jacquie caught a glimpse of it through the crowd, her gaze landing on the COL. MUSTARD advertisement on the side. Several of the people aboard the top of the vehicle dangled over the sides, waving at the people below. A couple of the bawdy fellows danced about atop the moving vehicle as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Ladies in everyday dress watched and clapped their approval.
Jacquie watched as a young woman not much older than herself tumbled and fell into a laughing fellow’s open arms. “Gracious.” She shook her head. “I do hope those people riding on top are safe up there.”
“They have a better view of the ship, to be sure.” Mother fussed with her handkerchief, twisting it in her hands. “And they appear to be having a glorious time.”
“Oh, no doubt.” Iris laughed again. “What a day this is. It will go down in the record books, I daresay.” She cracked her window and leaned out. “Oh, do you hear that? Music. Reminds me of home.”
Off in the distance a drum corps played as flags waved in the early morning breeze. People in traveling clothes milled about, all headed to the White Star Line Dock still several blocks away.
As their automobile rounded a turn in the road, Jacquie gasped. She had tried to imagine what the Titanic would look like, but nothing in her imagination had come close to the sight of the majestic vessel that rested upon the water. Indeed, majestic didn’t seem an effective word. The gigantic ship loomed in splendor, a true marvel to shipbuilding and proof positive that the British knew how to outshine their competitors. Standing several decks tall, Titanic’s four smokestacks stretched to the clouds above, beacons to all who would gaze upon her.
“Oh, Mother.” Jacquie released a slow breath and tried to take it in. To her right, Iris’s eyes widened. The view had apparently rendered her speechless. Her lips moved, but nothing came out.
“Oh my goodness!” Iris said at last as she pressed her nose against the window. “Look at her! Was there ever a ship more worthy of the sea?”
“Absolutely not.” Jacquie could scarcely catch her breath as she took it in.
“Have you ever seen anything of such proportion?” Mother’s eyes widened. “Why, she dwarfs everything else in sight.”
The limousine eased its way toward the White Star Line Dock and the throng of people increasing every inch of the way. Well-wishers waved their good-byes to those boarding, many with tears but most with shouts of exuberance. Some of the gentlemen—if one could call them that—waved their hats at those on deck. The passengers, a happy lot, waved back and shouted a few cheers of their own.
“Well, there you have it, ladies,” the driver said, his words laced with pride. “The RMS Titanic, a symbol of the British Empire at her finest.”
“Indeed.” Jacquie shook her head, trying to take it all in.
“The biggest, fastest, and most reliable vessel on the Atlantic, sure to put our German competitors out of business in a hurry.” He chuckled. “Who wants to travel aboard the Lusitania when you can board a ship such as this?”
“Not me.” Iris giggled. “Oh, I can hardly wait to climb aboard.”
The chauffer brought the vehicle to a stop at the corner near a sign pointing toward the White Star Line Dock. “Not sure how close I can get, ma’am.”
At that moment, a fellow who looked to be a bum leaned over and pressed his face against the glass window, startling them all. Mother let out a gasp. “The nerve.”
“Don’t mind him, ma’am,” the driver said. “Just excited, I imagine.”
“Still…” Mother fanned herself.
As she took another look at the monstrous ship, Jacquie’s heart quickened. The next hour or so would change her life forever. If things went as planned.
Her thoughts gravitated to Peter and Tessa. She whispered up a frantic—albeit silent—prayer that they would arrive in time. The cab could very well be here already, hidden away amongst the thousands. Hopefully Tessa and Peter would arrive at the appropriate time. Now, to board the ship and somehow talk Mama into shooing quickly.
Another wave of guilt washed over her afresh as she turned and saw the tears in her mother’s eyes.
“Oh, don’t mind me.” Mama waved her hand and smiled. “I’m just a silly old fool. I’m going to miss you, Jacquie. I feel as
if a piece of my heart is boarding that ship.” She leaned forward to whisper the rest, so that even Iris couldn’t hear. “Promise me you will live your life, daughter. Have the joys and the adventures that I only dreamed of having.”
Oh, I will, Mother. Trust me, I will.
She managed a lame nod as the chauffer opened their door. Then she climbed out of the vehicle.
The sound of a thousand voices raised in conversation and songs rang out along the dock. A woman passed by wearing a fox stole over an exquisite purple dress, an expensive silk number with a shiny overlay. Her hat—many times larger than fashion dictated—made a fine nesting place for a trio of silk swallows. They seemed quite at home.
The woman carried a fuzzy dog in her arms, and she tended to him as a mother would a small child. As she passed by, she bumped into Jacquie, and the little canine let out a growl. The woman attempted to comfort him in baby talk, which only resulted in a yappy barking spree. After glaring at Jacquie, she headed off in the opposite direction, muttering something under her breath.
“You don’t suppose they’re taking dogs aboard the ship, do you?” Iris wrinkled her nose. “Nasty creatures.”
A couple of intoxicated fellows ambled by, their voices raised in inebriated song as they headed ship-ward.
“I daresay the ship will be filled with all sorts of animals.” Mama pinched her eyes shut and then back open again. “You girls must promise me that you will be on the lookout at all times for your safety. No lollygagging about, and no talking to strange men.”
Jacquie nodded. “I assure you, Mother, I will not speak to strangers on the ship.” Easy enough to promise, since she didn’t plan on staying aboard.
“I know a surefire way to keep the fellows away.” Iris giggled. “Wear your hair down, Miss Jacquie.”
“Wear my hair down?”
“Yes.” Iris nodded. “I read the fashion magazines. British young ladies put up their hair to signify that they have reached maturity. A woman with her hair up is offering herself on the marriage market.” Iris giggled then clamped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks turning pink.
“Well, for pity’s sake.” Jacquie’s mother glanced at Jacquie’s upswept hair and feather-plumed hat. “Wear it down, then. Not right now, of course, but from now on.”
“On the other hand, I also read that a young lady who wears her hair down is sometimes seen as promiscuous,” Iris added. “So that might be problematic.”
“Oh my.” Mother wrinkled her nose then glanced Jacquie’s way. “Well, you really can’t win for losing, can you? I would say keep the hat on and pull the hair loosely up.”
The chauffer led the way to the gangplank and stopped to check with the steward. Then he turned back to Jacquie to share what he’d learned. “You will board via the first-class main entrance, miss. That’s on B Deck. After that, you’re to go to the purser’s office.”
“We won’t be subject to the medical inspection, will we?” Jacquie asked.
“No, miss. Medical inspection is only necessary for the third-class passengers.”
“I can join my daughter until the ship sails, can’t I?” Mother asked. “To get her settled?”
“Yes, you may stay aboard until the ‘all ashore’ is called.” He turned to signal a porter. “I will make sure the trunks are loaded onboard while you ladies get situated and then will be waiting for you when you return.” He turned his attention to the trunks, and Jacquie forged ahead through the crowd, Mother’s arm now tightly linked with hers.
“Which way?” Iris asked from behind them.
A fellow in a White Star Line uniform pointed through the crowd, and Jacquie took tentative steps in that direction. Minutes later, they were met at the first-class entrance by a fellow who introduced himself as Chief Steward Andrew Latimer. The fellow looked pressed and dressed for the task at hand and was surrounded on both sides by his staff. He greeted them with a smile, and a young steward led the way to the purser’s office. They wound their way through the mob inside, pausing only to allow a fellow with a camera to snap their photo.
Jacquie handed the purser her boarding pass, and he met her gaze with a welcoming smile. “Welcome about the RMS Titanic, miss.”
“Thank you.” I won’t be staying long.
“Our British passengers are among the first to board,” the purser said. “Most of those traveling from other countries will arrive by boat train.”
“Well, I’m relieved to come aboard early then,” Jacquie said. “It will give me time to see the ship in all her glory.” For the first and last time. Her heart grew heavy for a moment, but she pushed those feelings aside and kept going.
The purser looked over her boarding pass and marked several notes in his book. “Everything looks to be in order. You’ll be in B-54. Billings, here, will show you to your room. As you go by the Grand Staircase, be sure you take a look at the glass dome overhead. There’s a wondrous display of light streaming down through the glass. I think you will enjoy it.”
“Sounds lovely.” Jacquie did her best not to sigh aloud.
“It is. And while you’re there, be on the lookout for Honour and Glory.”
“Honour and glory?” She repeated the words, unsure of his meaning.
“Yes.” He quirked a brow. “They sit to the right and the left of the hour.”
The fellow’s words made no sense, and the line about honor and glory stirred her guilt even more. How could she be called honorable after running off with a young man her parents didn’t approve of? Shame flooded over her.
“Follow that up to B Deck,” he continued. “Your room will be down the hallway to the left. Miss? Are you all right?”
“Oh, yes.” In truth, she felt a bit queasy, as she thought through her plan to jump ship before it sailed.
Concern filled his eyes as he gave her a closer look. “If you get to feeling seasick, you might consider an afternoon stroll around the Boat Deck once we set sail. The fresh air will do you good.”
“Ah, yes. I’ll do that.”
Jacquie left the purser’s office and, with Mother on her arm, followed behind the steward as they wove their way through the crowd.
Mother beamed with delight as she observed the elevators in the distance. “The Titanic is the first ship with lifts. I read all about it in the paper.”
“Yes, that’s right, ma’am,” the steward said. “Though you might prefer to take the Grand Staircase up to your room.”
“Yes, let’s do,” she said.
The steward led them to the lobby, and Jacquie froze in place, gasping as she caught a glimpse of the stairway. “Oh my goodness.” She gestured to the glorious scene before them. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”
Her gaze traveled up the magnificent stairs, and her breath caught in her throat as she took in the splendor of it all. Just as the purser has said, the glass-domed ceiling had a heavenly appearance. The polished oak wall paneling glistened, a happy candidate for the streams of sunlight pouring in from above. Truly, the whole thing felt like some sort of heavenly gift, a pinch from a falling star, equal in brightness and beauty.
“Oh, Jacquie, look.” Mother ran her hand along the railing and across one of the balustrades then pointed upward at a large carved panel. It held an ornate clock, surely like one she had never seen before, flanked on both sides by intricately carved classical figures. The detailing took her breath away.
“Ooh, this must be Honour and Glory.” Jacquie pointed to the carved figures. “Remember what the purser said?”
“Honour and Glory.” Mother repeated the words and nodded. “They are something to behold.”
Iris let out a lingering sigh and placed her hand on the banister railing. “Oh, Miss Jacquie, this is too much. It’s Buckingham Palace floating atop the Atlantic, a wonder for the eyes and the soul. I don’t know how I will ever repay you for including me.” Off she went on a tangent, talking about the adventures she planned to have over the next several days. An older woman in a purp
le hat passed by, smiling as she took in Iris’s enthusiastic speech, which was now being delivered from the top step of the Grand Staircase in full view of the watching crowd below.
“Don’t be silly, Iris.” Mother took hold of the railing and took a couple of steps up, offering a nod to a chambermaid coming down the opposite direction. “I’ve been to Buckingham Palace several times, and Kensington, as well. And I daresay I know a fine palace when I see one. Most have stood the test of time.”
“In other words, they’re old.” Jacquie chuckled. “Everything onboard Titanic is brand-spanking-new. We will dine off of new plates and drink from new crystal.” At least, Tessa will.
“Still, she’s the closest thing I’ve ever seen to the inside of a real palace.” Iris sighed and ran her hand across the wood-carved figures next to the clock. “So beautiful.”
“I must say, you’re right about that.”
Minutes later they arrived at B Deck. The steward used his key to open the door then held it ajar for Jacquie to step inside. She took tentative steps inside the room—that glorious, unimaginable room—and gasped. “Oh, Mother!”
The gilded wall sconces took her breath away, as did the detailed mirror on the wall and the wallpaper, a rich shade of red velvet. What really captivated her attention, however, was the exquisite four-poster bed with its canopy top. She would never know what it felt like to sleep on that bed, but she could imagine it would be quite lovely.
A chambermaid in a crisp black dress with a white apron and cap arrived at the door and stood to attention. “I’m Nancy, miss. If there’s anything you need, just ask for me. I will be at your beck and call.”
Jacquie nodded. Hopefully once she left the ship and Tessa took her place, the chambermaid would forget she’d ever seen her in the first place. Maybe she wouldn’t ask why one young woman took possession of the room and another slipped into her place.
“I do hope your things arrive before I have to leave.” Mother took a few steps toward the bed and sat down. She ran her hands across the brocade coverlet and sighed. “I want to see your pretty dresses and fine things one last time. It is a pity that I won’t be able to see them on you, my dear.”