Unsinkable Page 7

  Feeling less anxious, she climbed back in bed and pulled up the covers and extinguished the light. No reason not to just go to sleep.

  She only hoped Stead’s story didn’t invade her dreams.

  *******

  Carrington slipped off her bunk and found her slippers and a heavy robe. She couldn’t sleep. Stead’s story and Beckett’s were keeping her awake.

  Walking softly so as not to disturb her parents in the adjoining cabin, she left the room and walked down the narrow corridor. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, she tapped gently on Beckett’s door.

  He swung it open, looking attractively rumpled, as if he’d fallen asleep writing. The book was in one hand, his starched pleated shirt was wrinkled and unbuttoned.

  “Can I come in?” She whispered the words.

  He nodded and she stepped inside and he closed the door.

  “You couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

  “How did you know?”

  He laid the book on the desk and took her in his arms. “Because I wrote it.”

  “Before or after the story at dinner?”

  “Before lunch.”

  She looked up at him. “What happens now?”

  He pulled her closer. “I’m not sure that you want to know.”

  “And I’m fairly certain that I do.”

  He kissed her more passionately and she felt light headed as she kissed him back.

  Beckett knew the words that he had written and tried hard to fight against them. But he knew that he wanted this to follow his storyline. He wanted to hold her closer and kiss her passionately. He wanted what followed. Whether it was right or wrong. And he was so caught up in it that he no longer cared what was right and what was wrong. He just wanted Carrington.

  Carrington kissed Beckett and felt her heart pounding. She was in love with him, she knew it. Whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted to go, whatever he had written in the book, that was what she wanted. She didn’t need to ask him what was going to happen. It was simply going to happen, that much she certain of.

  ******

  Beckett reached for Carrington in the darkness and she moved closer to him. His arms went around her. “We’ll never know if it was because we love each other or because I wrote it,” he whispered.

  “I will. It’s because I love you. And you love me. You must.”

  “But I wrote it in the book. It was just like that…”

  “Do you love me?”

  Beckett raised up on one elbow. “More than life itself.”

  “Then this was going to happen eventually.”

  “Not like this, not in secret aboard the same ship where our parents and friends were. We would have waited until we knew each other better. Maybe until we were married.”

  “Or perhaps not. You can’t plan every moment, Beckett. Sometimes life just happens. Isn’t that what you’ve been saying that you want? Isn’t that why you don’t want the job you’re expected to take at the bank? Why you want to write?”

  “I don’t know any more why I want to write. Or if I’m even any good at it. Or if I should even finish this book. This was supposed to be my way out of the life I was expected to step into. Now I have no idea what I want, what I should do.”

  “Does that include me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Am I a part of what you aren’t sure you want?”

  “Oh, I want you, Carrington. I want you to be a part of whatever life I finally end up leading.” He kissed her gently and brushed a lock of hair off her face.

  “Finish the book, Beckett. Finish it before you make any other decisions.”

  “Do I finish it the way you want it, or I want it to end?”

  “Write it. Just see what happens.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that I seem to be controlling our fate?”

  “In one way or another, don’t we all have the chance to do that?”

  He laughed softly. “I don’t know. I never thought about it.”

  “Then maybe you should.”

  He kissed her again. “Maybe I should.”

  She sat up. “What time is it? I have to get back. Mother will have a fit if she finds out I was here.”

  “Early morning, I think.” Beckett reached for his watch. “Oh no. Almost daylight.”

  Carrington reached for her gown and robe and threw them on hastily. “I’m going now. Don’t even think about walking me to the door. You’ll kiss me and someone will see…”

  He pulled her close. “I would kiss you.”

  “Beckett, I have to go…now.”

  He kissed her once more and let her go.

  ******

  Carrington slipped down the corridor quietly, relieved that she had seen no one, not even so much as a porter. She was grateful to be part of the idle rich, the group that wasn’t interested in rising at the crack of dawn, at least not aboard the Titanic. She turned her key in her stateroom door and gently closed the door.

  “Where have you been?”

  Her mother sat on the settee, stiff backed and disapproving.

  “I just couldn’t sleep. I went for a walk.”

  “A walk?” Rose’s expression clearly showed she didn’t believe that.

  “The story over dinner. I just couldn’t sleep.”

  “Where did you walk to, Carrington?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “It matters,” her mother said between clenched teeth, “Because you have been gone for hours. Have you been with Beckett MacKenzie?”

  “And I thought you wanted me to be with Beckett MacKenzie.”

  “Not in the middle of the night. Not where anyone who is anybody could have seen you with him. You claim you want nothing to do with a man like Alastair, who has a fine reputation and then you disgrace us by doing something like this.”

  “I haven’t disgraced you Mother. And no one saw me. Everyone but you is still asleep.”

  “Does it not bother you that people will talk?”

  Carrington sat on the bed. “No. And just for the record, I love Beckett.”

  “You put far too much emphasis on the idea of love and romance, Carrington. That’s why you have all these notions about traveling and adventure. Life isn’t about love and adventure.”

  “Without someone to love, without dreams, what’s the point of being alive, Mother?”

  “I can see that he won’t be good for you. He’s too much of an idealist, a dreamer. Really, writing a novel? Stay away from him.”

  “I won’t. I told you. I love him.”

  “Your father will be speaking to his father. This little ‘affair’ is over, Carrington.”

  “It’s not an affair, Mother. And he is good for me. He understands me. For the first time in my life I have someone who sees me for what I am, for what I want.”

  “Listen to yourself. You sound like something in a tawdry novel. Stay away from him.”

  “That’s a bit hard to do, Mother. We’re seated at the same table, we’re on a ship, which despite its size is still a ship. I can’t possibly stay away from him without causing a scene and having people talk.”

  “I won’t have it,” Rose said.

  “I’m an adult, Mother. It really doesn’t matter what you want.”

  “Get dressed and wait for me before you go to breakfast. And don’t plan on missing the church service.” Rose went to the door that connected their staterooms. “I am so disappointed in you, Carrington.”

  Carrington didn’t answer and didn’t look at her mother as she swept dramatically through the door and closed it.

  *******

  Beckett had just finished dressing when there was a knock at his door. He opened it and invited his father in.

  “I have just had a conversation with Wilson St. Clair, Beckett,” Jackson said, closing the door.

  “And?”

  “According to him your behavior last night was less than discreet.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “So y
ou didn’t spend the night with his daughter?”

  Beckett looked his father in the eye. Lying wouldn’t go over well. He knew his father well enough to know that. “I did, but I was very discreet.”

  “This is a ship, Beckett. We are in first class, along with some very important people. Do you want people who can help your career advance to be gossiping about you? Do you want Guggenheim and John Jacob Astor talking about you in the smoking room this evening?”

  “Mr. Guggenheim,” Beckett said, “is on board with his mistress and Mr. Astor has been abroad for several months, hoping that when he gets home people will stop talking about the fact that when he married his wife she was only seventeen. I hardly think they care if Carrington and I were alone for a few hours.”

  “Her parents certainly care and they are the type who can make trouble for you if they want to. It might be best to end this relationship now, before it becomes a scandal.”

  “A scandal? I’m not married and neither is she. What’s scandalous about it?”

  “Beckett, I really don’t care if you have…the occasional romantic indulgence. But you must learn to be discreet about these things.”

  Beckett fought to control his anger. “The way you are, Dad?”

  Jackson took two steps closer to his son and lowered his voice. “I won’t have you speak to me that way, Beckett.”

  “So it’s okay for you to have a little…indulgence so long as Mother doesn’t know about it and nobody talks?”

  Beckett suspected that his mother was fully aware of his father’s affairs. After all, he was.

  “Discretion is everything, Beckett. Our success depends on men like Astor and Guggenheim. We don’t have the luxury of allowing a casual affair to become public talk.”

  “No one, as far as I am aware, is talking about me. Or Carrington.”

  “Not yet. I want you to end this. I’m not sure her mother won’t use this as a way to make sure you marry her.”

  “I am going to marry her.”

  “Surely you haven’t proposed to her.”

  “Not yet. But I love her.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve known her for two days.”

  “I’ve known her almost my whole life.”

  “You haven’t seen her since you were children.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I love her.”

  His father grew red in the face. “It’s this book thing, I should never have allowed it. You start writing a book and now you believe what you’re writing. When we land I must insist that you begin at the bank immediately.”

  “I’m not a kid any more, Dad. I’ve graduated from college. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  “I control your trust funds, Beckett. Never forget that.”

  “I control those, Dad. At least the ones from Mother’s side of the family. I’m over twenty-one. You can’t keep me from using the money from Grandfather Beckett. As I pointed out when we set sail on this voyage.”

  “This conversation ends now. I won’t allow you to speak to me this way. Go downstairs for breakfast and for goodness sakes make sure you are in that religious service. Appearances do matter. And do not continue seeing that girl.”

  “Since appearances do matter, Dad, how can I keep from seeing her when we are seated at the same table?”

  “When this trip is over, I expect this shipboard romance to be over. I mean it, Beckett. This nonsense stops when we land in New York. And be discreet. Am I clear?”

  “Crystal,” Beckett said. Jackson left without saying another word.

  Beckett picked up the book and held it in his hands and stared at it for several minutes. He put it back on the writing desk and went to the door, but as he had since he started writing, he went back to the desk and picked it up again and slipped it in his coat pocket before he left his cabin.

  ******

  Molly Brown noticed a distinct chill in the air and it wasn’t just because the temperatures outside had dropped. Rose St. Clair was avoiding speaking at all to Alice Mackenzie and she had been acting like the woman’s long lost best friend since the voyage began. And was she imagining that Beckett and Carrington were avoiding even making eye contact with each other? Surely they hadn’t had a fight. Molly had been rooting for them to be together since the first time she saw them. They were so obviously perfect for each other and she had been enjoying watching the romance progress. Not to mention that she’d been intrigued by the notion that Beckett’s mysterious book had magical powers.

  As she watched them, Molly’s thoughts turned to her husband at home. Things hadn’t been great between them, at least not romantically for some time. They were still friends and he understood her better than anyone else. But that wasn’t enough. Maybe it was time to change things between them.

  Was Carrington trying not to cry? It broke Molly’s heart to see how sad the girl looked. She was just about to ask Carrington to join her on deck when Rose stood. “Well, it’s time for the services.”

  “Yes,” Wilson agreed. “Carrington?”

  Carrington forced a smile and stood. “Of course, Father, we wouldn’t want to miss that.” Rose and Wilson left without saying another word. Carrington left more slowly. As she did, her hand gently brushed Beckett’s shoulder. Molly wondered if anyone else noticed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Captain Smith took the Marconi message from Jack Phillips, the ship’s Marconi operator. “Ice warning, sir. Should we be worried?”

  “No, no. There’s always ice this time of year. And we’re aboard the Titanic.”

  Phillips laughed. “Quite right sir. And these first class passengers are keeping me extremely busy sending messages.”

  “Well,” Captain Smith replied, “the passengers, especially the first class ones, are our priority Mr. Phillips.”

  “That’s what Mr. Ismay said, sir.”

  The captain went back on deck and began the stroll to the first class lounge where he would lead the Sunday morning service, complete with the hymn for those in peril on the sea. It was a routine he enjoyed. He wasn’t certain how religious his passengers were, but he knew that they attended those services and expected them, if only for appearances. He wouldn’t let them down, nor would he keep them an undue amount of time.

  He saw Bruce Ismay approaching and prepared himself for whatever the owner of the shipping line had to say.

  “Are we on schedule, EJ?”

  “Still cruising at a little less than twenty-one knots, Mr. Ismay.”

  “And you cancelled the lifeboat drill?”

  “I will, although I am not certain why that is so important to you, Bruce.”

  “Lifeboat drills cause panic.”

  “Lifeboat drills are merely a precaution. Are you just not wanting to call attention to the fact that we do not, in fact, have enough lifeboats for everyone on board?”

  “Don’t broadcast that fact. And in any case, we shall not be needing them.”

  “I still don’t see the harm in a drill.”

  “The first class passengers don’t like the imposition, and the ladies don’t care for putting on the lifebelts.”

  “And those in second and third class?”

  “Also will not need a lifeboat drill.”

  “Very well.” Captain Smith handed him the ice warning. “We got this a few moments ago.”

  Ismay read the ice warning, folded it and stuffed it in his pocket. “Change your course if you need to, but don’t stop the ship just because another ship saw some ice.”

  Smith nodded. “Very well then.”

  He led the way to where his first class passengers were waiting.

  *******

  Beckett waited three minutes after Carrington left and then followed her. He knew she would go to the front of the ship. He had scribbled it in the book during the service. He wondered if she knew why she had chosen to go there as soon as the service was over, but decided that she would know. He’d known, after all, that she was watching him write in the book
.

  She was standing there, with her back to him when he found her, just as he had written it.