The Light in the Darkness 2 Read online

  Eliana sat, her breath taken, her face paled. She had not considered the impact her words had on George; but even still. “That’s not fair,” she whispered. “You know I love you.”

  “Do I?” George posed. “In all your rage, you’ll never say, ‘I’m so lucky I’ve found love’. You never discuss that you could have been married to some horrible gimp, or elderly cousin. You cannot talk about our marriage without first considering how you were forced into this terrible life. I cannot take it anymore, Eliana; I will not.”

  “George, I –”

  “Enough.” He raised his hand to silence her. “We are already late. Let us to the restaurant; the night is about you, after all.”

  Eliana blinked back tears at her husband’s dismissal, and she wondered, for the first time, if her hatred was poisoning her and her husband, instead of her sisters, the way she had intended.

  Chapter Six

  Sunday, April 14th, 1912

  Adene

  ’Twas a grander night than usual, Adene noted, as she, her daughter, Claire, Nora and Cillian, dined in the third-class common room. The music was livelier, and people were already dancing, though dinner had yet to finish. Adene had eaten her full and them some; she’d eaten a light starter of rice soup and bread and butter, before filling her plate with roast beef and brown onion gravy, with sides of sweet corn and boiled potatoes; and then, for dessert, she’d managed to squeeze in some plum pudding. She was already becoming accustomed to eating her fill and then some; she was beginning to wish her voyage would never end. Isla had decided to eat mostly the plum pudding, and Adene, knowing her daughter would never again see such an assortment and variety of foods, indulged her, plum sauce all over the little girl’s face filled Adene’s heart with joy.

  Adene watched as Cillian and Claire talked with ease as if they were already man and wife. Claire had confessed to Adene that she had discussed the future with Cillian, and he had declared and sworn to follow her and Nora wherever they may go, and wherever that may take them. The young man already talked of marriage; Adene partially wished to intervene – surely, she should offer some maternal advice? – but could not think of what she ought to say. The man did not appear to be anything but what he presented; a poor man, but a handsome, young one, who was undoubtedly in love with Claire. Adene had quickly taken to Cillian, and he often helped Claire look after Isla and Nora. He was uncannily good with kids, Adene had noted. He always bent to their level, so that he could meet them at their height, as opposed to towering over them, which – especially a man of his stature – he would easily be capable of doing so.

  They talked a lot of Paddy, Claire’s fallen brother and Cillian’s best friend; they seemed to take comfort in speaking openly of him. Adene wondered how; speaking of her Robert made her heartache. She knew that Isla wanted to hear more about her father, and if she did not keep her husband’s memory alive, he would fade forevermore from her daughter’s mind. Yet still, she could barely bring herself to say Robert’s name, let alone discuss the confidences of his passing so freely and openly.

  She had also scarcely seen a couple eat more; they’d eaten at least double what Adene had, and then had moved to dine on an assortment of cold meats, cheeses, stewed figs and rice. After the plum pudding, Adene could not even fit some of the fresh fruit that adorned the wooden tables, still, though fresh fruit wasn’t a luxury Adene had been able to afford since Robert’s untimely passing.

  She wondered if she could sneak an apple back to the berth; it might be useful for her, later in the evening, after her bath. Baths always famished her, for some reason, and a crisp apple could be a sweet treat. Adene was sure no one would mind; plenty of the foreigners cooked their meals inside their cabins, and while the smells were sometimes dreadful, no one seemed to complain. They were nicer far often than they weren’t, and Adene couldn’t help but suspect that the complaints lay more with someone’s skin colour than what they were cooking.

  Adene snuck the red apple into her grey skirt pocket, glancing around nervously, breathing a sigh of relief when she realised no one was looking in her direction.

  “I will take the children back, if you’d like,” she announced, feeling that she needed to take penance. She tried to comfort herself; saving an apple for later surely wouldn’t be counted as stealing. “We can take a walk on the Orlop Deck before we retire.”

  “Would you mind?” breathed Claire, though Adene knew that it was a polite façade. Claire would easily and quickly agree to it, readily returning the favour when Adene took her bath later that night.

  “Of course not,” Adene said. “Good night, Mr Cillian. I’ll see you soon, Claire.”

  Adene called to Nora and Isla, already showing signs of fatigue, to take them on their nightly routine of the poop deck, before singing a nursery rhyme before bed.

  Chapter Seven

  Sunday, April 14th, 1912

  Georgiana

  Georgiana silently ate her consommé Olga, the veal broth tingling every sensation in her body. It was one of the most delicious concoctions that had ever passed her lips, and yet, it could not lift the mood that was bestowed upon the family. Their silence contrasted heavily with the brevity that was befalling the Widener’s table; though Georgiana thought Captain Smith looked tired. He hadn’t touched an ounce of wine, though Georgiana wasn’t sure whether that was the rule of the commanding officer, or if that was just Captain Smith’s personal rule. She knew that he was highly regarded among the passengers for his impeccable sailing record, and his ability to value safety above everything. It wouldn’t surprise Georgiana if he refused to drink, even the smallest sips of wine, in fear that it would impair him.

  Cecilia was barely eating her cream of Barley, though her parents were doing their very best to ignore her. While their mother was casting unsettled looks to her daughter, their father was boasting loudly that, “Gatti is the best chef God has deemed to walk the earth”, and making outlandish comments with each meal that passed his lips, taunting Cecilia’s silent protest.

  “It is lovely,” Eliana murmured, as they moved to their next course (Georgiana had ordered the filet mignon, rare, of course; Eliana had picked grilled mutton chops, declaring “It’s for the baby”; Cecilia had lamented she wanted nothing, as she was deeply unhappy. “It’s a shame that not all of us agree.”

  “Eliana, don’t scratch,” warned Eleonora. “Your father is already displeased he did not win the bet.” It was tradition for first-class passengers to place bets on how fast the ship would travel; the purser must have posted the results earlier of whoever was closest to the ship’s mileage. Neither Georgiana nor William had cared to hold any interest in it, and not placed any bets on the Titanic’s estimated position. Georgiana wanted to ask who had won, and what mileage the man had bet, but she feared her father was already in a ropeable mood. She didn’t need to poke.

  “Why?” pouted Eliana. “What’s done is for the best. I think you and Papa have taken the only appropriate course of action. Luckily, what’s been done has not been done in the eyes of the Vanderbilts. With any luck, they shan’t hear about Cecilia’s … dabblings.”

  “Eliana.”

  “It’s true, Mama. Don’t pretend it’s not. You made me feel crazy, as if it were all in my mind, but it wasn’t. She kissed him on the Boat Deck! For all the world to see! If Cecilia had her way, she’d see this family in shame and ruin. She’s determined to, and she’s mocking us with her silence, pretending she’s superior to us all. Does that not disturb you, for it disturbs me.”

  Georgiana watched as Eleonora’s mouth opened to reprimand her daughter again, but it was Cecilia who spoke first, her tone icy cold. “Tell me, dearest Eliana, do you think this baby will breathe? Or do you think it will be born before its time, nothing more than a ghastly mess of blood and a deformed figure of what God did not feel fit to grant you?”

  The effect was instantaneous; her father’s face twisted a terrible purple colour; her mother dropped her fork as her face
paled; Eliana reeled as if she’d been slapped; Georgiana was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry. She did not disagree with her sister’s assessment; instead, she could not believe her sister would say something so candidly vicious. It wasn’t Cecilia’s way; there wasn’t a wicked bone in her body. Yet, words that she couldn’t even imagine Eliana saying had passed Celia’s soft lips.

  “Cecilia, if this pregnancy fails, I will hold you accountable,” her father growled, shaking his finger at her. Georgiana rolled her eyes; her father likely would. Albert liked to complain that women were hysterical, but she’d yet to meet a more melodramatic man than her father. In fact, she had observed that men, more than women, tended to lose their heads.

  They just oft happened to lose their heads over women, and thus the women’s blame was born, the way Eve was blamed for Adam eating the apple, or the way Lilith was punished for wanting to be Adam’s equal.

  “Why? It’s not my fault if God does not deem her fit to be a mother.”

  “Take it back! Now!” Eliana’s cheeks were rosy, her eyes welling. “You are a wretched, awful –”

  “What? You can revel in my unhappiness, show disdain for my choices, but cannot handle it when it’s returned?”

  “It’s not the same,” snapped Eliana.

  “On the contrary, I think it is,” Cecilia replied calmly. “You take pleasure in the pain of others. You’ve been doing so the entire trip. Yet, you cannot handle when it is returned.” Georgiana looked between her sisters, tears welling in her eyes. Right now, she hated them both, equally. She hated Eliana for making Celia cruel, and she hated Celia for saying the most terrible things she’d ever heard.

  “Celia, please,” begged Georgiana, but no one heeded her plea.

  “You would wish the death of an innocent babe?”

  Cecilia eyed her sister sternly. “Of course not. But I think it’s high time you realised how vicious you are. It isn’t pleasant, is it, when worst fears are thrown in your face? When a beloved sister gloats at your pain and misfortune? You’re vile. It’s no wonder George had to marry you. No one would have wished to otherwise.”

  Eliana didn’t reply, and George gripped his wife’s hand. “If it would please everyone, I’d rather we discontinue this conversation. Cecilia, I understand that my wife is not always pleasant, and while I can’t begin to atone for your sister’s sins, I would beg you to remember that the child is innocent, and it is not only Eliana you are currently hurting.” Georgiana, for the first time, caught the looks of everyone at the table; not a family member did not appear sickly, as horrified as she was at what had transpired. Some things cannot be unsaid.

  “Yes, it would,” Albert replied. “Otherwise, Cecilia, you will retire to your suite.”

  Cecilia smiled broadly. “Let me retire, then.” She dapped her lips daintily with her napkin, and to everyone’s surprise, stood and bid everyone a goodnight. Georgiana eyed her sister suspiciously; now she was less wondering about what Cecilia said, and more what Cecilia’s motivations were. It’s as if she planned to leave early. Still, that didn’t excuse what she had said.

  “I can’t believe she said such horrible things!” wailed Eliana. Georgiana could not tell if her sister was still genuinely distressed, or whether she wanted to prolong the attention on her. Georgiana knew she would be rattled if Cecilia had spoken to her in such a way, though sometimes, she wasn’t sure her sister always had normal, human feelings.

  “I know, my love, but she’s gone now,” George said soothingly, kissing his wife’s hand. Georgiana noticed that while he was comforting Eliana, he wasn’t doing so in the way he normally would. He wasn’t ushering her to a suite, calling for a servant, or doing anything he normally would. Have they fought?

  “Perhaps we’re putting too much on her, Albert, with the move. Perhaps we should not be sending her to the Vanderbilts. She’s never behaved like this before.” Eleonora looked pained.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Albert responded, eating his lobster; lobster juice hung around his face. “She’s acting out, is all. And Eliana, your sister is not entirely wrong.”

  “You think I –”

  Albert raised a hand, silencing his daughter immediately. “No, Eliana; it will not be a discussion. I’m tired of hearing what you think and what you feel; I know more about your bloody thoughts and feelings than I do my own. This entire voyage has been made most cumbersome because of you. Not to mention, your sister has a point about your cruelty. Lately, you’ve been hitting below the belt. It’s shameful and disgusting.”

  Eliana bowed her head. Georgiana agreed, in a way; not that she would ever turn on Cecilia. She loved her baby sister more than anything in the world.

  “She really is behaving oddly,” her father mused. “It reminds me of this young German fellow – apparently he’s booked out the squash room, tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Eleonora asked, sipping her red wine. “I didn’t think the squash courts were available at night. Don’t they usually close them by evenfall?”

  “Yes, it’s dreadfully queer. If you ask me, it’s not a surprise. Germans are rather odd, don’t you think? And this one had a peculiar name.”

  “Mmm,” Eleonora replied.

  “I know exactly what you mean, Father,” Eliana said, her voice tight and arrogant. It made Georgiana want to gag.

  “I know I’m right!” cried Albert, his voice louder than usual, signalling he’d had too much to drink. “Not only that, the dastardly bugger’s had it converted for fencing.”

  “Fencing?” inquired Eliana. “You quite like fencing.” Georgiana thought that was an odd thing to say; her father liked to talk of fencing, but she’d not seen him fence in her lifetime. She was not even sure he could, if he ever had.

  “That’s not the point,” Albert retorted. “It’s the principle of the situation, Eliana. It’s not a fencing arena, it’s a squash room. And I have a game with Major Archibald tomorrow, one I’m hoping to win. Whatever madness has possessed your sister has likely possessed this gentleman. That, or it’s simply him being German.”

  “Daddy, I think that’s not proper to say,” Georgiana responded tentatively. She rarely called her father ‘daddy’; she did so only when mollifying or hoping for something.

  “Who cares? As long as my squash court’s fine by morning, and so’s your sister’s behaviour. Honestly.”

  “Which sister?” Eliana asked.

  “Both,” Albert said pointedly. “Don’t think you can slip away from this, Ellie.”

  As her parents and Eliana discussed Cecilia’s off-colour behaviour, and the offence the young German had caused her father by renting the squash court, Georgiana smiled quietly to herself. They were fools if they believed her sister was retiring to her suite.

  Chapter Eight

  Sunday, April 14th, 1912

  Cecilia

  Cecilia had used the attention that was suddenly focused on Eliana – she came back from the doctors, pregnant – to disappear. She wasn’t on speaking terms with anyone in her family, bar Georgiana and William, and she was desperate to seek Henry. She hurried to the B-Deck elevator foyer; it was beautiful. There were lounges in the foyer for passengers to sit upon while waiting – there was frequently a line during the peak times – and caught a glimpse of the clock; it was nearing eight-thirty. It was essential Cecilia kept an eye on the time. While her father was unlikely to leave the Smoking Room until after eleven at least – perhaps even later, as some of the gentlemen had urged the staff to keep it open later the night before – her mother would be unlikely to stay out late. Cecilia took the elevator to D Deck, where she exited – the large Dining Saloon and Reception was on the other side, and she could hear the chatter and band from beyond the gilded doors, before finding Henry’s room: D-5.

  She rapped gently, hoping Henry had returned from his dinner, and was in his room. “Yes?” came a voice after a pause. She wondered what had taken him so long to answer.

  “Henry, it’s Celia,
” she whispered. “Please, open up. Quickly.”

  The door opened, and Cecilia was suddenly aware she’d interrupted some photography process he was undergoing; the room was dark, and a red light was fixed at the back of the room. She wondered if, whatever he was working on, was now ruined.

  “Celia?” he cried, his face breaking into a smile, before a frown. “You cannot be seen here. What are you doing?”

  “Then you best let me in,” Cecilia replied, forcing her way into the room, so that he could not argue, and she could not be caught standing, unchaperoned, at a single man’s cabin door. Henry quickly shut the white door; Cecilia could not help but notice that his space was far scarcer than hers, with less furnishings. He did not have a private ensuite, either; he must have to share with the other first-class passengers, his room being only but one. He had a small wooden wardrobe, and while everything was less than Cecilia’s, it still had the same elegance.

  “Celia, I –”

  “The jaunt is up,” Cecilia started, not eager to waste any time. “My parents won’t be played for fools, and it will not matter what they believe. I have been confined to my suite for the entire day, breaking only for dinner. Luncheon was brought to my room, if you can imagine! It is what they have planned for the rest of the journey; I am to be confined until we dock Wednesday. I only have a brief time to see you, Henry; I caused a commotion at dinner so I would have time to escape, to meet you here, but I won’t have the opportunity again. The time to act is upon us. Henry, I know what I want. It is not a life of luxury, bound by societal restraints I do not understand or care for. What I want is a life with you.”

  He looked into Cecilia’s eyes, his brown ones twinkling. “Do you mean that?” he asked.

  “I do,” Cecilia replied, and she did. Georgiana had asked if she was willing to forsake everything, and she was. She would not have the same lifestyle, but she would not be destitute. Perhaps she’d have to learn to share baths when travelling, but she’d still be moving in first-class. She could handle less dresses and a smaller house if it meant freedom and happiness. More importantly, it meant freedom and happiness by Henry’s side, something she did not wish to relinquish. “The question is, are you willing to take the chance, too?”