A DEEP OCEAN OF SECRETS
Chapter Twelve
The next day, April 14, 1912, the
air was cool, the sun shining, the blue sky cloudless. It was Sunday, which
meant church service. Rose woke up early and bathed, washing and drying her
curls. Elisabeth woke up later, having taken a bath the night before. She
stretched, yawned, and got up out of her bed and sat at the vanity just as Rose
walked in with her kimono wrapped around her. Her hair was dry and she had
already applied her makeup for the day.
"Good morning, Rose,"
Elisabeth said happily, brushing her hair until her blood-colored curls shone
against the light.
"Good morning,
Elisabeth," Rose replied, and quickly slipped on her corset.
"Elisabeth, could you tie the strings? Cal has asked me to join him for
breakfast out on our private deck." Elisabeth got up from her seat and
softly tugged at the strings so that her sister had room to breathe. Rose
slipped on a beautiful, white-laced, light green morning dress and mules, then
tied her hair in a loose braid over her shoulder. She thanked Elisabeth and
quickly left for breakfast on their private promenade deck.
Cal was already seated.
"There you are," he said, looking up as Trudy poured him a cup of
coffee. "I’ve been waiting for you. How long ago did you wake up?"
Rose walked past him and sat
across the table. "I’ve been awake since dawn—getting ready for you and
breakfast. Is that such a problem, Cal?" Cal said nothing.
Trudy poured Rose her coffee and
stood silently at the end of the deck. Rose stirred sugar and milk into her
coffee and took a small sip. The tension between her and Cal was
unimaginable—but she had nothing to say to him whatsoever.
Cal decided to strike up a
conversation. "I was hoping you would come to me last night."
Rose continued to stir her
coffee. "I was tired," she lied.
"Yes. Your excursions below
deck were no doubt exhausting," Cal replied.
Rose’s eyes widened in shock.
After dinner, she and Jack had gone to a third class party, but how did Cal
know? Oh, yes, the answer was obvious--Spicer Lovejoy. Rose stiffened.
"How typical. Having your valet follow me."
Cal looked up from his plate,
obviously annoyed. "You are never to behave like that again, Rose."
Taking her stand after a slight
pause, Rose said, "I am not one of your foremen in your mills that you can
command. I am your fiancée!"
Cal looked up, disgusted.
"Fiancée? My fiancée—" He suddenly exploded. In one swift motion,
standing up, he swept all of the breakfast china off of the table and knocked
the table over as well. The china crashed onto the wooden deck, pieces flying
around. Rose gasped and Cal leaned over her, both hands gripping tightly onto
the arms of her chair. She gazed up at him nervously, her breathing short and
heavy, looking like she was about to cry. She was trapped underneath his arms.
"Yes, you are!" Cal
shouted at the top of his lungs, furious. "My wife in practice, if not yet
by law! So you will honor me as a wife is required to honor a husband! I will
not in any way be made a fool!" His voice lowered. "Is this in any
way unclear?"
Rose could only shake her head.
Cal stood up straight and stalked off of the promenade. Rose watched him leave,
shrinking back in her chair, and let out an exasperated sigh. When Cal was out
of view, Trudy rushed to Rose’s side, who had slipped out of her chair and onto
the floor, trying to pick up some of the pieces of china that had been broken
by Cal’s tantrum.
"Miss, it’s all right,"
Trudy reassured her.
"I’m sorry, Trudy. We had a
little…accident," Rose stammered, trying not to cry. "Here. Let me
help you."
Trudy pried the flower from
Rose’s hand. "Miss, it’s all right," she repeated. Rose fell off her
knees flat onto the floor and let out a sob, shoulders heaving. She put her
hand to her mouth in shock and began to cry.
*****
A little while later, Trudy was
lacing up Rose’s corset for the day. Ruth suddenly burst through the door,
closing it behind her. "Tea, Trudy," she commanded.
"Yes, Ma’am," Trudy
replied, and released the strings of Rose’s corset, opening and closing the
door gently. Ruth stormed over to her daughter in silence, and as Rose turned
back around, began to tighten the strings hastily.
Ruth was in a bad mood. "You
are to never see that boy again, Rose," Ruth said, referring to Jack.
"Do you understand me? I forbid it."
Rose rolled her eyes, not wanting
to take her mother’s behavior. Her younger sister never took it, so why should
she? She liked to see Jack, and just because her mother said a couple of words
didn’t mean that she couldn’t. "Oh, stop it, Mother," she breathed. "You’ll
give yourself a nosebleed."
Ruth whipped her daughter around
and Rose stared into her mother’s cold eyes in surprise. Her face was covered
with an expression she had never worn before, and she didn’t know why her
mother was being this way. Didn’t she want her to be happy? "Rose, this is
not a game," she said in a deathly tone. "Our situation is
precarious! You know the money’s gone."
Rose sighed. "Of course I
know it’s gone…you remind me every day!"
"Your father left us nothing
but a legacy of bad debts hidden behind a good name. And that name is the only
card we have to play. I don’t understand you. It is a fine match with Hockley;
he will ensure our survival."
Rose felt completely and utterly
lost and hurt. "How can you put this on my shoulders?"
"Rose, how can you be so
selfish?"
"I’m being selfish!"
Ruth let go of the corset strings
slowly and brought her hand to cover her mouth. "Do you want to see me
working as a seamstress? Is that what you want? To see our fine things sold in
an auction, our memories scattered to the winds?"
Rose leaned her head against the
tall bedpost and sighed. "It’s just so unfair." She sighed.
"Of course it’s unfair.
We’re women. What choices do we have?" Ruth pulled the corset strings as
tight as she could and fled from the room. Just as she opened the door,
Elisabeth stood there, about to enter. Ruth pushed past her and Elisabeth’s
eyes followed her as she left. She came into the room and shut the door.
"Did the queen not get her
way?" Rose didn’t say anything. "I heard about what happened at
breakfast," Elisabeth said, and threw open her wardrobe doors. Her hair
was already neatly done in a bun, curls hanging down by her creamy face.
"I saw what Cal looks like
when he gets truly angry," Rose said, her eyes and voice far away. "I
loathe him more and more each day. I’m just waiting to be free from this prison
cell."
"A cell made of skin?"
Elisabeth took out a fancy green dress, the bodice cream-colored and hemmed
with lace, as well as a white shawl.
"Yes." Rose sighed.
"And what about you? You and your Mr. Thackery?"
Elisabeth smiled thoughtfully.
"I really like him, even though I haven’t known him for very long. It’s
like we’ve known each other our whole lives, when we’ve only known each other
for a couple of days."
Rose sighed. "Mr. Thackery
is an engaged man, Elisabeth. You shouldn’t be trying to find trouble."
Elisabeth looked at her sister
evenly, then replied, "Jack is third class, Rose. You are an engaged
woman. You shouldn’t be trying to find trouble."
"It’s different with
Jack…"
"I’m not going to beat
around the bush. How are you going to stay with him when we reach New York? Cal
and Mother won’t let you, certainly!"
"Jack and I will find a way
if we are truly meant to be together." Rose looked at Elisabeth, who had
slipped on her dress. "Aren’t we meant to be together?" Her sister
didn’t say anything. And the more she said it; the more and more it was
beginning to seem impossible for her to see him.
"Do you really think you are
meant to be together?"
Rose was quiet. She stammered,
"I-I don’t know." Actually, she couldn’t. She longed to, but in her
heart she knew she couldn’t.