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“Heaven forbid.” Her father waved a hand. “Go on, now. Make all the plans you like. Our daughter’s wedding day will be a cause for celebration for us all.” He gave Jacqueline a brusque nod. “And lest I forget to say it, cost is no issue. Appease yourself by planning the largest, most opulent wedding London has ever seen. When a man has but one daughter, such frivolity is expected. I daresay the town gossips will fuss if I withhold any good thing from my precious girl.”

Like her happiness, for instance?

She didn’t speak the words aloud, of course, managing only a weak “Thank you, Father.” Then Jacquie turned and followed on her mother’s heels.

Once they reached the front hall, Mama took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Upstairs,” she whispered, the tiny wrinkles around her eyes growing more pronounced. “Don’t breathe a word until we get there.” Mama brushed a loose hair off Jacquie’s face then put a finger to her lips.

Jacquie’s curiosity rose, but she did not voice her questions. Instead, she climbed the stairs, remaining in her mother’s shadow until they reached the lavish French doors leading to the master bedroom suite.

Mama swung them wide and marched inside. Then she released an unladylike groan. “This place is as dark as a tomb.”
She walked to the window and pulled back the deep blue velvet draperies, allowing sunlight to enter the large suite. The brass canopy bed glistened as rays of light hit it, and the golden threads in the coverlet shimmered as if to show off their value. If only Father saw Jacquie as valuable, then he wouldn’t insist upon marrying her off to further his business.

Mama kept walking as if on a mission. “Come with me, child.” She led the way beyond the silk-papered walls into the spacious closet with its vaulted ceiling. Easing her way past the ball gowns and party shoes, she finally came to a stop in front of a set of shelves full of boxes and whatnot. Mama reached for a large hatbox then turned to Jacquie. “I know this is difficult, but you must ask no questions.”

Ask no questions?
Right now, all she had were questions. Dozens of them. And no answers. How could she be expected to remain silent when everything around her cried out for some sort of heavenly intervention?

Her mother’s voice lowered to a whisper as she opened the hatbox and pressed several newspaper clippings into Jacquie’s hands. “A new ocean liner is leaving Southampton in five weeks, headed for New York. Arrangements can be made for you to be onboard when she sails, but we must hurry.” She pressed the now-empty hatbox back onto the shelf.

“W–what? You’re sending me to America?” Jacquie shook her head as she stared down at the newspaper clippings. A photograph of the RMS
Titanic
stared back at her. “What are you saying, Mother? Have you and Father planned this as some sort of honeymoon gift?”

Mama shook her head. “I’ve known for weeks that your father was, well…working on a plan with Mr. Palmer, but I’m not talking
about sending the two of you off on a honeymoon. Not at all.” She led the way to the large canopy bed and settled onto the edge then patted the empty spot beside her. “Come. Sit.”

Jacquie trembled as she took the place next to her mother. She tossed the newspaper clippings onto the bed, her frustration growing. None of this made any sense.

“Listen to me.” Mama reached to grip her hand. “I know the pain of a forced union firsthand. My own father, God rest his soul, made sure I was advantageously matched as well.” Her expression hardened. “My daughter will not be painted into that same corner. I would sooner die than allow it, trust me.”

Jacquie couldn’t help but gasp at this news. If her parents’ marriage had been anything but love-centered, she’d never known it. Either her mother was a terrific actress—one capable of a career upon the stage—or she’d settled into her life here at Abingdon Manor with a compliant spirit.

“Surely you can see how it is with Roland and your father. Each has something to offer the other, and you’re to be the bargain in the middle. The enticement, as it were. And something else is behind this decision, as well,” Mama said. “Your feelings have not escaped me, Jacquie, though you’ve tried valiantly to hide them over these past many weeks.”

“O–oh?” Her heart quickened, and her cheeks grew warm.

“You are in love with Peter Bowen. Don’t deny it, child.”

Jacquie’s hands trembled and she found herself at a loss for words. She’d worked so hard to hide her feelings from everyone in the house. How had Mother managed to discern them?

“I’m not blind, Jacquie. And neither is Iris.”

Jacquie grimaced as the name of her lady’s maid was spoken. “She had no right to tell you.”

“She didn’t have to. Iris simply confirmed what I already knew to be true. I’m your mother, and I know infatuation when I see it.” Mama sighed. “I do pray it’s just that—an infatuation. Regardless, you must know that your father would sooner see himself hanged than let his only daughter marry the groundskeeper. I daresay he would marry you off to Roland tomorrow if he got wind of this. So consider yourself fortunate that he does not know.”

The trembling intensified. Jacquie drew a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. What could she possibly say in response to all of this?

Her mother reached for the newspaper clippings. “There is only one thing to do to solve both of these problems at once. I plan to wire your grandmother in New York this afternoon. She will purchase your ticket to America, and no one will be the wiser. By the time the
Titanic
sails, you will be on your way and your father’s hands will be tied.”

“But Peter…” She shook her head, the lump rising to her throat again.

“You have no choice, Jacquie. You must put him out of your mind.” Her mother paused. “It’s for the best, at least until this situation with Roland dies down.” She gave Jacquie a pensive look and gripped the newspaper clippings in her hand. “This is the only thing I can think to offer. I will understand if you decide not to go. But if you do, your grandmother will welcome you with open arms. She will make a very pleasant life for you in New York and introduce you to the best of society. We’ve spoken at length about sending you—for years, in fact.”

This news caught Jacqueline off guard. “What about Father? When he finds out, he’ll—” She couldn’t complete the sentence. A cold chill rushed over her as she contemplated his possible actions.

Mother’s expression softened. “He will forgive us. Eventually. And he and Roland will likely merge their companies whether you marry or not, so don’t fret over that. Business is business, and they are men, after all. They’re motivated by their pocketbooks.”

“Are you sure?” Jacquie whispered. It would be one thing to let her father down by not marrying a man he’d chosen for her, but another completely to throw his business into disarray.

“You’re only nineteen, Jacquie.” Her mother reached over to smooth her long tresses. “Far too young to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders just yet. Trust me when I say that there will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, we just need to get you out of England. It’s your well-being I’m concerned with.”

“My well-being.” Jacquie glanced down at the newspaper clippings, sighing as she saw the picture of the RMS
Titanic
in all her glory. Had it really come to this? Was traveling to America her only option? She looked again at the picture, and a faint smile tipped up the edges of her lips as she thought the situation through. Truly, there were worse fates to befall a girl. Who among her friends would be fortunate enough to make the maiden voyage on one of the ocean’s most famed vessels?

At once an idea formulated, one she would never consider voicing. Jacquie did her best to maintain her composure as she looked her mother’s way, though her thoughts now tumbled madly. “You’ve offered the best possible solution, Mama. I can see that now.” She rose and brushed her skirts, her smile quite genuine. “So I will accept Grandmother’s offering. I will go to America.”
And I won’t look back, no matter who—or what—I’ve left behind.

Tessa rose from the rocky path, her knees a bloody mess. Even in his inebriated state Pa continued to preach, proclaiming her to be the most woeful of sinners. On and on he went, even tossing in Scripture verses to punctuate his message.

As they made their way up the incline toward the cottage, Tessa bit back the temptation to cry. Tears would do her no good. This she knew from years of allowing them to flow after such a tirade on Pa’s part. No, only one thing made sense: she would square her shoulders, bide her time, and then, when life presented just the right opportunity, run as fast and as far from this place as she possibly could.

Chapter Three

Wednesday, March 13, 1912

Abingdon Manor, Richmond, England

The next several days at Abingdon Manor were spent in a whirlwind. Jacquie smiled and nodded every time her father mentioned Roland’s name, as if nothing were out of the ordinary. On the inside, however, she quivered like the cook’s chocolate mousse.

She kept a watchful eye on The
Times
, her heart rate skipping to double time as she read various articles on the excitement surrounding
Titanic
’s upcoming voyage. To think, she would be onboard. The very idea gave her a chill. And if all went as planned, she would not be alone.

A delicious satisfaction wrapped her as she thought about the plan she’d concocted. Of course, she still had to run it by Peter, but how could he resist? Surely by now he’d read the note she’d left under her favorite flowerpot in the greenhouse. He knew about her so-called engagement to Roland. With that very thing in mind, Peter would surely jump on her idea. Then the two of them could get to work at ironing out the particulars. She could hardly wait.

Just four weeks shy of the ship’s sailing, Jacquie was summoned to the master suite. She found her mother seated at the dressing table, fussing with her hair. As she gazed at the reflection in the oval mirror, Jacquie couldn’t help but notice the wrinkles
around Mama’s eyes. They seemed to grow deeper every day. Perhaps the stress of their secret project had her mother feeling more anxious than usual.

“Jacquie, you’re here.” Mama turned and extended a hand, her eyes glistening with tears. “A present has arrived with your name on it.” She slid open one of the tiny drawers on the vanity and pulled out some unfamiliar papers.

Jacquie took a step forward, smiling as she saw the insignia for the
Titanic
on the top page. “Is this—I mean, is this it? My ticket?”

“And your itinerary.” Her mother rose and pulled her close, her voice still low. “Your grandmother has been extremely generous, my dear. You will have to thank her properly when you arrive in New York. The cost of a first-class ticket was, well—” She giggled. “Let’s just say even Roland Palmer himself would have chosen a more reasonably priced room.” Her expression grew more serious. “But you’re worth it, Jacquie. You deserve the very best, which is exactly why I feel more strongly each day that you must leave here.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

“Your grandmother has booked a suite with two rooms so that Iris can travel with you.”

“I–Iris?”

“Well, of course, silly girl. You didn’t think I would send you off across the Atlantic without her, did you?” Mother’s expression tightened. “No respectable young woman would travel such a great distance alone. Besides, you will need your lady’s maid to help with dressing and hair and such. She will be a treasure to you, I’m sure. And what a great sacrifice she is making, to leave her family here in England so that she might attend to your needs. We owe her a great deal of thanks.”

“Of course, but…” The words drifted off as Jacquie’s heart wriggled its way into her stomach. She hadn’t planned on this. Having Iris along would complicate her plans on many levels, though she certainly couldn’t say so.

Mama turned back to the mirror and continued running the brush through her hair in careful, even strokes. She finally paused then spoke to Jacquie’s reflection. “I guess you’ve heard that Roland is coming for lunch today. There was nothing I could do to avoid it, but I feel sure we’ll muddle through somehow. A duller man never drew breath.”

“I’m not sure that’s true, Mother,” Jacquie said. “He’s quite amiable.”

“Still, all that talk of steel and such will likely wear on my nerves. Perhaps I should take a headache powder to calm myself before he arrives.”

“I’ll do my best to be polite.” Jacquie leaned down and wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck. “And in case I haven’t said it, Mama, I’m so thankful. When I think of what you’ve done for me, the lengths you’ve gone to…” She fought back tears, determined not to let her emotions get the best of her once again. Still, she could hardly imagine the efforts her mother and grandmother had gone to. How could she ever repay them?

Her mother turned and patted her hand. “Don’t give it another thought. Just live your life, honey. Be happy enough for the both of us.”

“I will.” A ripple of guilt washed over Jacquie, but she pushed it away. No time for that today. Mama would eventually forgive her. Hopefully Father would, too, though his forgiveness might be longer in coming.