Once We Were (18 page)

Chapter 14

“I'm sorry, sir, but this is a gentleman's club,” the bartender told him. Gianni gave no apology. He glanced at the stiff portraits of the club members. He spotted Ioan's picture on the far right. “I am a gentleman,” he insisted.

The bartender chuckled. “Alright. Get a move on, you.”

“I can prove it. You see that man, Mr. Ioan Saier. He is a gentleman. Therefore, I'm a gentleman.”

“
I'm sorry, sir, but this is a tie and hat affair,” the bartender said. “Considering you have neither, I can't serve you. There's a tavern down the street that serves your kind. You best be getting to it.” Gianni glared at him, but stood. He glanced at the portrait of Ioan on the wall before taking his leave. He was getting closer.

He rested at the harbor as he lit a cigar he'd stolen. The Carpathia must have docked here. This is where Beatrice ended her journey. His would start here.

He buried his face against his hands. “Signorina, please, why am I here? I'm a free man now. I can do what I want. What do you want from me?” he whispered. “I did everything to save you. Please let me rest.”

The scene played over and over in his head. He waded against the heavy current in the dark. “Signorina, breathe,” he cried. “I got you. I won't let you die.” He scrambled for the shore dragging the young woman after him. He slipped against the bank and scrambled to pull her back from the river. He gently laid her against the rocks like a butterfly with broken wings. Her head fell toward heaven.  “Signorina,” he cried. “Wake up. We're safe now. Signorina, open your eyes.”

He desperately surveyed his surroundings. Nothing but fields for miles. “Is anyone there?” he shouted. “She needs...the signorina, she's...” He couldn't bring himself to say it. He turned back to the young woman he risked his life to save. The eyes he admired so much never opened for him again. “You didn't deserve to suffer for them, signorina. This is not sacrifice. This is murder, ” he wailed. “This is a light gone out in the world.” His mind yielded no peace or reason. All he understood was anger.

*              *              *

Lavinia sighed as Ioan paced. Neither had changed from their evening best. The clock chimed at eleven.

“
Miss Appleby, it's late. You should rest,” Ioan said. “I'll have Mr. Knightly see you home.”

“
I can't leave without knowing she's alright,” Lavinia said. “Besides, someone's got to keep you from chewing on the wallpaper. Won't you sit down? Have a drink.” Lavinia reached for a glass.

“
I should never have left her,” Ioan insisted.

“
Or not,” Lavinia said, releasing the glass.

“
No, she shouldn't have gone in the first place. None of this would have happened if that Hamilton bloke had kept an eye on her.”

“
Don't be so hard on him,” Lavinia begged. “He feels terrible about the whole thing.”

Ioan thought of worse ways to make Halsey feel terrible, but minded a lady was present and kept them to himself. He sat, but not for long. “What's keeping the doctor?” he snapped. “Why hasn't he told us anything?”

“I'm sure everything is fine,” Lavinia told him.

“
She's quite right,” the doctor appeared. “I apologize for my late report. Miss Harlow is stable.”

“
I'd like to see for myself,” Ioan answered.

“
With caution, Mr. Saier. Fortunately, she fainted from shock rather than blood loss, but I don't want to trigger a relapse.”

Ioan wasted no time. Cora sat by the window. She winced as she tightened the bandage around her palm.

“Let me,” Ioan offered, helping her secure it. His heart broke when he saw the blood soaking through.

“
Who could do something like this?”

“
I don't know,” she said, hardly above a whisper. “I didn't see his face.”

“
Did he threaten you?” Ioan asked.

“
No, he didn't speak. He didn't do much really. Except this.” She handed the bloodstained note to him. “It's a ticket stub, I think,” she said. “It's from Titanic.” “Let's have a look,” Ioan examined it closely. “It's a second class boarding stub. I can't read the name. The water's washed it off.”

“
I don't think he cared for the name,” Cora answered. “There's writing on the back, but it's not English.”

“
Welsh, by the looks of it,” Ioan squinted at the scribbles. “Very bad Welsh.”

“
Can you read it?”

“
I don't know if anyone can,” Ioan remarked. “He shouldn't have bothered to translate. It makes no sense.”

“
Can you make out any words?”

“
Time waiting is with dead. Alive short container with time. Give guiltless contributions sin yours. God having lenience for ask you.” Ioan stopped, shaking his head. “This is rubbish.”

“
It has to mean something,” Cora persisted.

He read it over and paused on the last sentence. It was the only one written grammatically correct. “We deserved a chance.”

“We deserved a chance?” Cora repeated. “What does he mean?”

“
I don't know,” Ioan answered, but his eyes told a different story.

“
Ioan, what's going on?”

“
I've got to get you out of here,” he said. “Tonight.”

“
What are you talking about? Where am I suppose to go?” Cora demanded. “You know something about this. You promised me no more secrets.”

“
Now is not the time, Cora,” he said. “For once in our lives will you trust me and do what's best for you?”

“
What is best for me?” Cora asked. “A man locked me in a dark room and threw a knife at me. You expect me to trust someone now? I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.”

“
I won't let them have you,” Ioan declared.

“
And by them, you mean?”

“
The lost,” Ioan answered. “They're in my dreams. They're walking around. They're there with their families protesting in the streets. They want something from me but I've no idea what. They took you in a dream. This won't be the day it comes true. You must go tonight.”

“
Ioan, you're absolutely demented,” Cora cried. “There aren't ghosts walking around. This is your own guilt tearing you apart. You've got to let this go. It's destroying you.”

“
You don't understand,” Ioan said. “I should have gone down with the ship. I ran like a pansy. I'm trying to make it right, but its not enough. My life comes with a price. It will not be you.”

“
Can you hear yourself?” Cora asked. “You're scaring me. You've gone over for good this time.”

“
That's not something you should fear,” he said. “But they will know it. They will know it before you do.”

Chapter 15

“
What do you think of lilac?” Cora asked from the writing desk.

“
I'm not a fairy,” Ioan protested. “It's black or nothing else.”

“
What about navy? A navy tux isn't so bad?”

“
What about black?”

“
What about white?”

“
Alright then,” Ioan tossed her a coin. “Heads says I win. And no cheating.” Cora flipped the coin and caught it in her palm. “Tails!” she declared.

“
Exactly what I said,” he persisted. “Black it is.”

“
Where is my father?” Cora asked. “He's been awfully quiet all evening.”

“
Probably out for a drink. No man can withstand this torture for long. Why does the color matter anyway? It's the
I do's
that are important. Who cares if you're naked?”

“
Ioan, shut up,” Cora whispered, throwing a pin cushion at him. Mr. Spruce entered the room. He ignored Cora and nodded to Ioan. “Would you give me a moment?” Ioan asked Cora.

“
Running off already?”

“
I'm a horrid wedding planner,” Ioan replied, kissing her lightly. “I'll only muck it up.”

“
Alright then. Cora will marry Cora and Ioan Saier will demote to the guest list, table five, the far corner on the left next to the uninvited guests.”

“
Who can't love you, Cora? No one can help it,” Ioan sighed. “Two hours tops then I'm all yours.”

“Turn the car off, Mr. Knightly.” Spruce scanned the dock. A man danced around a bench with sherry. He collapsed and toasted the sky. He shouted to no one.

“
That bloke's having a rare night,” Ioan remarked. “He's rat faced.”

Mr. Spruce cleared his throat. “Look closely, Mr. Saier. He's the one you want. My informant works a bar downtown. He saw an Italian man, dark hair, dark eyes, about this high, wandering around gentleman's clubs asking peculiar questions.”

“Are you sure this is the man who threatened Cora?” Ioan asked.

“
No one throws a knife like him. He carries Jay Anderson blades. The same knives reported stolen by a downtown shop. You'll want to grab him before the authorities do.”

“
I don't know,” Ioan doubted. “If he's a wanted man, why is he so careless?”

“
Why don't we just ask him?” Mr. Spruce pulled a bat from the seat.

“
What's that all about?” Ioan demanded.

“
Protection.”

Ioan still hadn't shown. Cora watched the window. The courtyard was dark and still. “It's nearly eleven. No word from Mr. Saier yet?” Cora asked Mrs Dillsworth.

“
Not since he left, miss,” Mrs. Dillsworth replied. “I imagine they stopped for dinner.”

“
Nothing from my father either?” Cora asked.

The bell rang. “Well, there they are at the bell,” Mrs. Dillsworth said. “Give them hell for the both of us. I wasted a perfect turkey dinner.”  She hurried off to answer it. She returned moments later with a puzzled expression. “Miss, there's a man here to see you?”

“At this hour?” Cora questioned.

“
Mr. Darcy Luckett. Mr. Saier will fire me if I let him in,” Mrs. Dillsworth said. “He said specifically no visitors while he's away.”

“
Please send him in. You can tell Ioan I told you so. He may grumble at me all he likes.”

Mr. Luckett humbly stepped into the room. “Miss Harlow,” he said. “I apologize for coming on such short notice. I know it's been eleven years since we spoke, but I heard about what happened at the aria concert. I had to insure you were alright.”

Cora smiled. “I'm more happy than not to see you,” she exclaimed, embracing him. “Please find a chair anywhere. A drink maybe. Or perhaps a turkey dinner.”

“
I'm quite alright,” Mr. Luckett replied, sitting stiffly and clenching his hat in his lap. Cora watched him curiously. “Are you alright, Mr. Luckett?”

“
Never better, Miss Harlow,” he answered. “It's uh-it's quite cold tonight.”

“
Yes, it is,” Cora answered.

“
Is Mr. Saier here?”

“
No, I'm sorry, he's out, but he should return very soon. Won't he be surprised to see you?”

The two sat awkwardly for moments, of which Cora didn't entirely understand but thought Mr. Luckett was one of those people who need warming up first. After all, this was the first time she'd ever served as his hostess.

“Won't you have a chocolate?” Cora offered him a golden box. “They're Ioan's, but I sneak into them all the time. Don't tell him I said that.” She winked at him.

“
Wicked girl,” Mr. Luckett chuckled, grabbing a chocolate covered almond. “I gather you're very fond of chocolate.”

“
What girl can resist chocolate? Nonetheless, I do it more for the pleasure of teasing him,” Cora answered. “He thinks he hides everything so well. Then he opens the box and is left scratching his head. That's the expression I love most.”

Mr. Luckett smiled. Cora felt proud of herself as he finally relaxed in his seat. “I believe congratulations are in order,” he said. “Do you have everything you need? Is he treating you well?”

“Can I tell you a secret, Mr. Luckett?” she said. “Sometimes I wonder if I'm making the right decision in marrying him. Is that wrong of me?”

“
It's perfectly normal,” Mr. Luckett said. “There isn't a couple who hasn't thought of it once before marriage. Everyone has doubts.”

“
I'm not entirely sure all of Ioan came back from Titanic,” Cora replied. “I don't know how to describe it. Insanity is too harsh, but anything less wouldn't do it justice.”

“
You think he's lost his nerve?”

“
Yesterday, he was going on about some ghost chasing him. He swore up and down that I was in danger and that this ghost wants him at the bottom of the ocean. Who comes up with ideas like that? It's unbearable to listen to. He knows it bothers me when he thinks that way, but he truly believes it. I ask him to be open with me and share his feelings.  I want to talk about it. I want him to admit he's suffering, so that I may have an excuse to cry and let it all out. He can free his guilt and move on from this ghost business, but he refuses to say anything. He claims that it's for my own good. What is that suppose to mean? I am his soldier. Every night, day, and waking hour, whether he believes it or not. It's exhausting. The doctor said it's just a phase, but it seems we'll never grow out of this.”

“
I'm so selfish,” Mr. Luckett said. “I came to comfort myself without considering your torment. Forgive me. I shouldn't have come at all.”

“
You're frightened. Of course, you're frightened. You expected chocolate, not a monologue, ” Cora apologized. “Now that it's said, it does feel strange to tell a man you hardly know, but there's no point stopping now. I've told you everything. I'll lend you my ear all night if it gives you peace.”

“
There is something,” Mr. Luckett began. “I need only one answer, but my search  led to more questions. Forgive me. When I heard someone attacked you last night, I celebrated. I even took my servants to dinner. I toasted three times, just so I'd believe it.  Cora Harlow perished on Titanic until that elating moment when she was alive again. You are my last hope, Miss Harlow. You are the answer to everything lost.” Cora gazed quietly at him. He put so much faith in her. She had not the heart to turn him away. “Sir, if my memory serves me well, I will answer what I can.”

Mr. Luckett waited too long for this opportunity. “I don't know where to begin. What happened that night? Bea, did she-did she suffer or go peacefully?”

“I don't know, sir,” Cora admitted. “We were separated. I searched everywhere for her. I would've drowned if Mr. Saier hadn't found me. I had to assume she got a boat and went on without me. I later realized I was wrong. If I knew she was still there, I would have never left that ship. Titanic was our savior. We snatched our lives back and escaped the girls' school. We kept busy those four days predicting our futures. We bought a sketchbook to keep track of it all. She drew me the perfect husband. What he'd wear, how he'd talk, how he carried himself, how he smiled. She designed my wedding dress, envisioned lavender freesias, a five foot cake, and musicians in white suits. She knew good and well I could never afford musicians but insisted it'd be done. I would have the most envied wedding in Paris. She said she'd hang herself if I married the milkman, or the sad Irish boy who kept writing to me from home. She vowed to find me a rich man on board and made sure I didn't ruin her efforts. She scowled at me when I took another shot of brandy at dinner, or didn't fix my hair just right.

“
I drew her a kind French man with dimples and a country house in Monte Carlo. She'd always be in good health and never lose color in her cheeks. I'd be Aunt Cora to her twelve daughters and teach them to play piano very loud and very badly in the house.” Cora smiled in private memory. “How simple and innocent life was then. We never imagined an iceberg in our sketchbook. Not a day passes without regretting I left her. I spent every day with her. I always admired her strength of character. It's shaped my own. When I panic, I hear her voice in my head telling me to man up. She'd never have given up on me, not even now.”

Mr. Luckett steered the conversation away for Cora's sake. “And Mr. Saier? No one saw him for eleven years.”

“That is the tricky part,” Cora answered. “I don't know how he did it, but he was there. At first, I blamed the liquor. I was seeing things. I wonder if it even happened the way I remember it. I was such a mess.”

Still, she remembered it in complete detail. “Since when does your father own the regional bank?” she had whispered fiercely to Beatrice.

“Well, he
has
money in the bank. That's good enough. Go with it, Cora. You don't want them to figure out my father booked our tickets on discount. Just follow my lead.”

“
If you knew what you looked like.”

“
You look like a drunken tramp. Turn your glass over. I'm not carrying you back to the suite again.”

“
I handle my liquor just fine. I'll walk there myself.”

“
And you, Miss Cora? What does your family do?” an estate broker questioned.

“
My father is...”

“
Dead,” Beatrice declared, forbidding Cora to speak. All the faces looked on Cora sympathetically. “It is a very unfortunate circumstance. Cora's father was a well respected surgeon and philanthropist who donated to many hospitals in his day. He and my father were good friends before he died of a foreign illness. They are still researching the cause. Cora has become part of our family since she mastered her first step.”

“
I am sorry to hear it,” was the general agreement around the table.

Somehow, Cora found her way outside. She steadied herself against the wall. Her surroundings swayed and she blinked to clear her vision. Her head fell backwards toward the stars. It was so clear and quiet. It'd been years since she'd seen so many. She was only disappointed when she gazed at the stars in London. The trees, streetlamps, and fancy buildings were always in contest with the sky. No night was as perfect as this one. No night had ever compared. Except one, in a distant memory.

She wondered what happened to the person hiding in that memory. He'd probably inherited his fortune and married a nice upper class girl to please his father. She cringed in disgust with herself. How silly it was that she still searched for shooting stars and made wishes, then poured a glass of whiskey when that wish trailed endlessly across the sky. There is no answer in the stars. Stars are just stars.

“
I beg your pardon, miss?” a steward questioned.

She didn't notice he was there. “What?” she replied in a daze.

“I said I'm sorry but you can't be on deck without an escort. Allow me to show you back to your suite.”

“
Thank you for your concern. I have no escort, but that's alright with me.”

“
I'm sorry, miss, but I can not leave you out here alone. I'm obligated to your safety.”

“
What could go wrong on the safest ship in the world?” she replied. “If I fall over, someone will catch me or I shall just float there.”

“
Are you alright, miss?” the steward eyed her curiously. “You don't sound it. Let me take you to the nurse.”

“
I'm fine,” Cora said firmly. “I don't need any doctor.”

Ioan paused as he took a sip of his coffee. He could have sworn he heard a woman bickering on the opposite deck. He grinned in anticipation as he strode toward the fight. He could use the entertainment at this hour.

“There's no need to get upset, miss. It's just a company precaution.”