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To save her soul was more like it. For, while she did share some of Mama’s concerns that people would talk, she cared far more
about doing the right thing. And doing the right thing meant offering apologies to Roland.

With her heart drifting to her toes, she descended the stairs. Her gaze landed on him. He was as tall and stately as ever, as he stood in the foyer talking to Mother. A low chuckle sounded as Father slapped him on the back.

As she landed on the bottom step, Roland glanced her way. His eyes clouded over a bit as he took her in. “Jacquie.” She half expected a terse look, but he extended a hand graciously. Then again, he had always been a perfect gentleman.

“Roland.” She took his proffered hand and allowed him to lead her into the foyer.

“Cook will serve lunch in a half hour,” Father said. “After that, we will be on our way.” He looked back and forth between Jacquie and Roland. “If you two don’t mind, I need to take care of a pressing business matter that demands my attention.”

“And I promised to telephone Minerva. She’s probably wondering why I haven’t done so already.” Mother scurried from the room.

Jacquie did her best to calm her nerves, but the trembling hands gave her away. Left alone in the room with Roland, she had no choice but to do the obvious. She took a few steps into the parlor and eased her way down onto a settee. He sat opposite her, making light chatter about the weather.

She put a hand up to stop him. “Roland.”

“Yes.” He grew silent, and an undeniable awkwardness settled over the room.

“I—” Her eyes filled with tears. “I have something I must say to you.” She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to formulate the right words. Truly, this man deserved far more than an
apology. She had betrayed him in the worst possible way. The fact that he was willing to sit in a room with her and treat her civilly said much of his character.

“I must ask for your forgiveness,” she said at last.

He reached for her hand, his eyes brimming with unshed emotion. “Jacquie—”

“I do not deserve it. I know that. But until I receive it, I won’t be able to rest my head on the pillow at night and sleep in peace. I promise you, this has nothing to do with what people will say or even what my parents wish. This is my heartfelt plea to ask for forgiveness, though I know in my heart that I do not deserve it.” The sting of tears followed, and she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand in a most unladylike fashion.

Roland stood and paced the room, finally coming to a stop in front of her. “Jacquie.” Just one word, but he spoke it with such kindness that it gave her hope. “I cannot pretend that your leaving didn’t wound me, and all the more when I heard the particulars.” He paused and his gaze shifted to the ground. “I understand what it feels like to care for someone with that kind of passion.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” His gaze met hers. “I understand it because that’s how I feel about you. It’s how I’ve felt about you from the moment I first ventured through the door here at Abingdon Manor all those months ago. Don’t you see?”

Jacquie leaned forward and put her head in her hands as shame washed over her afresh. “Oh, Roland.”

“I also know what it’s like to be loved and not reciprocate those feelings. My parents nudged me into a relationship with a young woman back in New York that I did not care for. Pretense was all I could offer. I withheld my heart because it did not belong to her.”

Jacquie sighed. Perhaps he really did understand, then.

“I thought I could convince myself to love her, but I could not.” He dropped into the chair across from her once again. “So, I do understand your dilemma. Truly. I don’t hold it against you for not reciprocating my feelings.” A flicker of pain settled in his eyes. “I had hoped for more, of course. I believe we all hope for real love, even when it seems elusive at best.”

She struggled to come up with something comforting, but no words came.

He gazed at her with great empathy. “You have asked me to forgive you.”

“Y–yes.”

“How could I withhold forgiveness from you when the Lord has so graciously offered it to me, time and time again?”

She felt the tears as they dampened her lashes but didn’t bother brushing them away. Instead, she spoke with all the sincerity she could muster. “Roland, you’re truly one of the best men I’ve ever known. I do hope you know that. You deserve someone who can give you her heart in its entirety. Right now mine is…” The only word that came to mind was
splintered
, but she dared not voice it.

“Say no more, Jacquie. We will put this behind us and move forward as friends.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he gazed at her. “If you will have me as a friend, I mean. Right now, I could use one.”

“Me too.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out his beautiful ring. “But I must offer this back to you.”

He shook his head. “Do me a favor. Put it away. Keep it safe. Maybe one day you will wear it—as a thing of beauty, I mean. Not as a token of anything other than that.” He gazed at her with such tenderness that she felt shame wash over her afresh. “It would
bring a certain degree of comfort to know that I’d added a bit of extra sparkle to your eyes with that little gift.”

“You are too kind.”

“I’m not.” He shook his head. “I’m just a man who trusts that the Lord has his future in the palm of His hand.”

“The Lord…” When she spoke the word, a lump filled Jacquie’s throat. She shook her head, tears now dribbling down her cheek. If God had her future in the palm of His hand, she had much to be concerned about, for surely the Almighty found her to be the most despicable of people right now. She shivered then whispered, “What an image that is.”

“I can trust Him, Jacquie. You can too.” Roland paused and seemed to disappear into his thoughts for a moment. “Perhaps that’s why the news of losing you to another man didn’t carry the sort of sting one might expect. I have to believe that the Lord was not taken by surprise by any of this. And I daresay He’s big enough to contend with both my will and my heart, heavy as the latter may be.”

“You are a good man, Roland Palmer.” Jacquie stood and offered him her hand.

He rose and took it in his own then kissed the back of it with great tenderness. “I am not. But I serve a great God. He gives me the capacity to be a better man with each passing day.” Roland sought out her gaze. “If you will take a few steps toward friendship, I would be grateful.”

“Of course. We are the best of friends, truly, for you have offered me something that only a friend could—forgiveness.” Her heart overflowed with gratitude as she thought about his generosity.

The clock chimed the hour, and Jacquie realized Roland still
held her hand in his own. She gave it a squeeze then offered him her arm. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved.” He quirked a brow. “I was so nervous about this afternoon’s event that I couldn’t eat a thing for breakfast.”

“I haven’t eaten much of late, either,” she countered, “but feel like I could manage a feast this afternoon.”

“Well, you’re in luck. Your mother tells me that the cook misunderstood her instructions and thought the event was here. She has prepared enough food for everyone in the county.”

Jacquie couldn’t help but laugh as she and Roland made their way toward the dining room together.

The weeks passed at an alarming pace. Nathan did his best to put the past behind him but found himself overwhelmed with memories of the
Titanic
.

Memories of Mother.

Memories of…James Carson.

Strange, how grief could be all mixed up with feelings of anger and betrayal. Stranger still that Father—the only father he had ever known—played such an integral role in Nathan’s healing, offering himself as both counselor and friend. And while he spoke the truth, revealing tales that Nathan had not cared to hear, one thing remained clear: Father was a man of grace and mercy.

Never was this more apparent than on a Saturday evening in May when he called Nathan to his study. Father’s eyes brimmed with tears as he spoke. “I thought you should know that I’m planning a memorial service for your mother.”

“How can you do that?” Nathan rose and walked to the
window then gazed out at the garden. He turned back to his father. “How can you forgive her, after all she did to you?”

His father rose and took several steps in his direction. “That’s a question I’ve had to ask myself many times over the years. There’s really only one answer, because there’s only one truth, and that’s an eternal one. Men will fail us. Given ample opportunity, they will wound, betray, and neglect us. Many will say they have no choice in the matter, that they acted not of their own volition. In the end, humans are just that—human. They tend toward selfishness.”

Nathan bit back a caustic response.

Father’s expression softened. “There is a truth, however, that stands the test of time. No ship can penetrate it, no iceberg rise up against it. Nothing anyone builds or claims ownership to, short of the Almighty. It is the truth of God’s love for us—love that crashes through even the coldest, most frigid heart.”

He stood in front of Nathan and put his hand on his shoulder. “Son, we can’t repair what has happened in the past, but we can ask God to melt our hearts as surely as those icebergs in the North Atlantic will melt in the summertime. When the thaw comes, the risk for damage is lessened. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, Father.”

Father offered a smile. “Don’t let your heart be hardened, my boy. Remember, in this world we will have trials and tribulation…”

Tribulation
. A word he knew quite well.

“But we can take heart”—Father’s eyes filled with tears as he pointed heavenward—“because our Savior has overcome the world.”

Nathan had much to overcome, to be sure. Much to forgive. But already he felt springtime coming. His heart, hardened by forces unseen, was melting. He could feel the gentle hands of the
One who had spoken it to life, massaging, warming, urging him to breathe again. Live again.

The man standing before him offered the finest example of that. Nathan would live every day of his life following in his father’s footsteps.

Tessa peered through the open door leading to the study, her eyes filling with tears as father and son stood in a tight embrace.

In the few weeks she had known Mr. Patterson, one undeniable conclusion had been drawn: not all fathers were like hers. Some, like this wonderful man, lived to serve and care for others. Lived to extend grace and forgiveness even when it made no sense.

And now, as she looked on through the open doorway, Tessa found herself more vulnerable than she had been since that fateful day aboard
Titanic
when Jessie had encouraged her to take her bitterness and toss it into the Atlantic. Watching a father—a real father—express his love in such an open way nearly pulled her heart from her chest.

Mr. Patterson looked her way, and a smile lit his face. He opened wide his arms and gestured for Tessa to join them in their embrace. She drew close, the smell of peppermint filling the space between them as he spoke words of love over her. Her thoughts traveled back to Jessie’s heartfelt words that fateful day aboard
Titanic
:
“Rest in the comfort that your heavenly Father adores you. He does, you know.”

Here, in Mr. Patterson’s loving, fatherly embrace, she truly believed it was so.

Epilogue

May 30, 1912

Abingdon Manor, Richmond, England

Dear Tessa:

I should have written this letter weeks ago, but every time I tried to do so, the words would not come. I struggle to get them out even now. How can I ever begin to make right what I’ve done? I cannot go back and undo the past. Oh, how I wish I could! But neither can I move forward until I am relieved of this awful guilt.

When we first met, I couldn’t see past myself. My vision is less clouded now, and I cannot deny the obvious: my selfish actions put you in peril and nearly cost you your life. Every time I think about what you went through on
Titanic
, I feel sick inside. I should have been the one in that lifeboat, not you. I should have been the one facing death.