Titanic Affair (16 page)

‘Why not?’ rejoined his wife, not at all put out.

‘I hardly think Emilia needs to know about men like that. It’s not as though she’s likely to be fleeced by professional gamblers,’ joked Robert.

They laughed.

‘You never know,’ teased Pansy. ‘Perhaps she has a secret vice. Or perhaps,’ she said, turning to her husband mischievously, ‘I meant it as a warning for you.’

‘My dear wife, you are a little minx,’ he teased her back affectionately. ‘I have many faults, but gambling isn’t one of them.’

‘What are your plans for this afternoon?’ asked Emilia, as the waiter brought their dessert. It was a wonderful pastry concoction, and the sight of it made her mouth water.

‘I was going to write some postcards, and then we were going to play bridge in the lounge, but after this I think I will need to spend a session in the gymnasium!’ said Pansy, her eyes growing wide.

‘I know what you mean,’ smiled Emilia. ‘It is a good thing there are so many things to do on
Titanic
otherwise, with all the food on board, there would be a lot of gowns that no longer fitted!’

‘Do you play bridge, Emilia?’ asked Robert, as he contented himself with a piece of cheese. ‘Perhaps you would care to join us.’

‘That’s very kind,’ said Emilia, ‘but I want to continue exploring the ship.’

‘But you’ll be at divine service in the morning, won’t you?’ asked Pansy, through a mouthful of pastry.

‘Yes. I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Good. We’ll see you there. And after divine service there’ll be the lifeboat drill. There’s always a lifeboat drill on the first Sunday of a voyage.’

‘That should be interesting,’ said Emilia, thinking she would have an oportunity to find out more about the small wooden boats that lined the deck, and how they would operate in a case of emergency.

Their meal came to an end. Arranging to meet the following morning, they went their separate ways. Pansy and Robert went into the lounge, and Emilia made her way to the reading room.

Alone again, Emilia’s thought returned to Barker. Whilst listening to Pansy’s lively chatter she had had some distraction from her thoughts, but now they returned with full force. What if Barker tried to kidnap her when she left the ship at
New York
? What should she do? For if he managed it, he would turned her over to Mr Silas Montmerency, and the thought made her shudder.

She was still worrying about it as she entered the reading room. She scarcely noticed its sumptuous decorations. Its high ceiling, white panelling and gold-upholstered chairs passed her by. But then she stopped as something finally penetrated her thoughts. For there, sitting on one of the gold sofas, reading a newspaper, was Carl Latimer. Even worse, there was no one else in the room. She was about to back out quietly and close the door when he looked up and saw her.

He stood up. ‘Miss Cavendish,’ he said.

‘Mr Latimer. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I will leave you to read your newspaper in peace.’

‘You’re not disturbing me.’ He smiled. ‘Please, stay.’

She hesitated, then said, ‘Very well.’

She did not join him, however. Instead she crossed to the far side of the room and sat down at one of the tables by the window. There were some magazines lying about and she picked one up, trying to take an interest in its articles, but her thoughts wandered and she found herself looking out to sea instead. It was so calm and placid, it was the complete opposite of her thoughts. She turned her attention back to the magazine, but her mind was not on what she was doing.

‘Mr Latimer?’ she said at last.

He looked up from his newspaper.

‘Mr Latimer,’ she began again.

‘Would it really be too dreadful for you to call me Carl?’ he asked, folding his newspaper and dropping it on the sofa before walking over to join her.

Feeling she would be at a disadvantage if she remained seated, she stood up.

‘Yes, I’m afraid it would,’ she said, as he joined her by the window.

She was already regretting her decision to ask for his help. He was so close to her that he was clouding her senses, and she felt that if she was sensible she would get away from him as quickly as possible. But it would not only be bad manners, if she did so it would look decidedly odd. So she must stay. But as for calling him by his first name, it was out of the question. Unfortunately, he was not prepared to let the matter drop.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘Why?’ She was taken aback. ‘I would have thought that was obvious. It would be most improper.’

He shrugged. ‘I know most people would think so, but frankly, I’m not interested in what most people think. I’m interested in what you think. So if you think it’s impossible, I’d like to know why.’

There was something challenging about him.

‘Really,’ she said, turning away from him and walking across the room to the mantelpiece. ‘I hardly know you . . . ’

‘So you will call me Carl when you do?’ he asked.

He followed her with his eyes, but he did not close the distance between them, letting her escape. Even so, she was aware of his presence. Although he was at the other side of the room, he still seemed very near.

‘Mr Latimer,’ she said, fast feeling she was losing control of the situation, and speaking with as much dignity as she could muster, ‘Given that we are simply shipmates, it is impossible that I should get to know you better. When the ship docks, you will go your way and I will go mine.’

‘There you go with that word again. Impossible.’ He smiled, and it brought his eyes to life. ‘It seems to me that nothing in life is truly impossible.’

She turned towards the mantelpiece and straightened the clock.

‘Not for you, perhaps.’

She caught sight of his frown in the mirror.

‘Something’s troubling you,’ he said. The bantering note had gone from his voice and he was suddenly serious.

She hesitated. She wanted his help, needed his help. But even so . . . And yet, she must have some advice. She took a deep breath and decided to take the plunge, because if Barker was able to take hold of her when the ship docked she could well find herself kidnapped.

‘What is it?’ he asked her gently. ‘What’s wrong?’

It was strange that his voice could be so gentle. Caressing, even.

‘It’s nothing . . . ’ she began.

He waited.

‘It’s just that . . . ’ She spun round to look at him. ‘Mr Latimer, you have sailed before. I was just wondering, what happens when we leave the ship?’

He looked surprised, but nevertheless he answered her question, telling her about the procedure for disembarking and going through customs.

‘Are there any places . . . is there anywhere the different classes come into contact?’

He eyed her curiously. Then said,’ Why don’t you tell me what it is that’s troubling you?’

‘There’s nothing,’ she said brightly. ‘I was just curious, that’s all.’

‘No. It’s more than that. You’re worried about something - and don’t tell me it’s about disembarkation, because I don’t believe you. Has someone in steerage been bothering you?’

She hesitated again, wondering how much she should say.

‘Something frightened you on Thursday,’ he said, walking towards her and stopping a few feet in front of her. He looked down at her in concern. ‘It frightened you so badly that you ran across the deck and into my arms. Not that I’m complaining,’ he added with a warm smile. Then his smile faded. ‘You were in steerage at the time. Now you are asking me if you will have to meet anyone from steerage when you disembark. What is it, Emilia?  What happened? And why are you frightened it might happen again?’

She bit her lip.

‘Won’t you trust me?’ he asked softly. ‘If you do, I might be able to help you.’

She looked at him, trying to make up her mind. He was a wealthy man, ruthless and hard. And yet she had the innate feeling that he was trustworthy. He might be like Silas Montmerency in circumstances, but he was nothing like him in character. And it was character that determined a man’s actions, not his wealth.

‘Very well.’ She paused, then began. ‘There is a man by the name of Barker. I knew him in
Southampton
. Two days ago, I saw him on the ship.’ She paused again. ‘He is in the employ of a gentleman named Silas Montmerency.’

He said nothing, but waited for her to continue.

She walked over to the window.

‘When I was younger, I lived in the Cotswolds, but when I was nineteen my parents were killed in an accident and I went to live in
Southampton
with my Aunt Clem. She was a wonderful woman. She was always cheerful, and so full of life. She took me in and looked after me, and although her circumstances were straitened, she did everything in her power to cheer me and make me happy. I had always liked her, but the more I knew her, the more I came to love her. We lived very happily together, enjoying each other’s company, until . . .  until her death last year.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently.

‘Thank you.’

She turned to face him.

‘Aunt Clem lived in a rented house,’ she went on. ‘Once a month her landlord would call to collect the rent. He was a respectable man, but he had a friend . . . One day, this friend, Mr Silas Montmerency, accompanied the landlord to our house. He . . . took a liking to me.’

Carl’s mouth set in a grim line. ‘I see.’

She rubbed her hands together in a nervous gesture.

‘Aunt Clem had taken the landlord out into the garden to show him her new bed of flowers. She loved flowers,’ she said with a smile. Then her face darkened. ‘Mr Montmerency . . . he put his arms round me and he kissed me.’ Her head dropped, and she shuddered with the memory of it. At length she roused herself.  ‘Whilst he was still embracing me, Aunt Clem came in. She was horrified. He told her that he meant no offence, and said that he wanted to marry me. He said he could give me everything I had lost. He sounded generous . . . kindly . . . but there was something about him that made me afraid. When he had pulled me into his arms, he had ignored my struggles and my repeated requests that he let me go. And when he had kissed me, he had made my skin crawl. He was a respectable man on the outside, but there was something poisonous about him underneath. It made me afraid of ever falling into his power. When I refused him, he became angry: he was a wealthy man, and he was used to getting his own way.’

‘Ah.’

She could tell by his expression that he understood why she had been so hostile to him at their first meeting.

‘He told me I could have six weeks to think about it, but that one way or another he would have me, and that I had better make my mind up to it.’

She smoothed her skirt.

‘Aunt Clem had been ill. Her health deteriorated rapidly. It was winter, and she fell ill with pneumonia. In her weakened state she did not live very long.’ She bit her lip, for she had loved her Aunt Clem dearly. ‘After the funeral, I moved to another lodging house. I thought I had shaken Mr Montmerency, but two months later I saw one of his henchmen following me home from the shops. He noted the house and then left. I knew he had gone to tell Mr Montmerency where I could be found. I didn’t wait for him to return. I packed my bags and left at once. And so I have lived for the last few months, changing houses every time he found me. But I knew I could not do that forever. I thought of telling my godmother, but her husband had been ill and I did not want to worry her further. Her husband has made a good recovery, however, and she has invited me to live with them in
Ireland
. A friend of hers had booked passage on
Titanic
- they were friends in their schooldays, and
Charlotte
married very well. When
Charlotte
knew she would not be using her stateroom, as circumstances forced her into taking an earlier sailing to
America
,  she wrote to my godmother and asked if she could make use of it. My godmother did not want to travel as she had just invited me to stay, but she knew I would be able to make use of it, and the rest you know.’