ELUDING DESTINY
Chapter Thirteen
The overhead chandeliers caused
the silverware to gleam, and Rose glanced down at the table, momentarily
distracted from her thoughts. She had been gazing off into the distance, her
mind filled with images of Jack, of the distant places he had traveled, of the
future she wanted with him. Conversations rose and fell past her ears like the
droning of insects. Now, though, as the silverware glinted and a fork clattered
loudly on a table nearby, her daydreams fell away and the real world crashed
in. Beside her, Madeleine Astor's voice was suddenly distinct as she said,
"...well, of course, the museum opening is only two weeks away, so I told
them I couldn't possibly get all the fliers out in time. So the Women's
Auxiliary in New York is going to help out..."
On Rose's left, Colonel Astor was
buttering a roll, waving the butter knife around in the air as he emphasized a
point. Across from him, Ismay was nodding emphatically in agreement. And next
to Ismay, across from Rose, sat Ruth. Ruth seemed as distracted as Rose, her
gaze distant and unfocused, somewhere over Rose's shoulder. Her plate of beef
bourguignon sat untouched before her.
Suddenly, Rose's eye was caught
by something else, a movement at the far end of the dining hall. Her head
jerked around, and she was shaken by the sight of a man lurking near the
entrance. She recognized the powerful build and dark gray suit instantly.
What was he doing there without
Cal? Cal had not been at dinner that evening and nobody could find him. And
yet, there stood Lovejoy in the doorway. What was his purpose for being there?
Rose did not like the fact that
he was standing in the corner watching them. Watching her. Had Cal instructed
him to do that? Was he hoping Jack would show up? What could he do? What was he
capable of?
But Rose already knew.
Cal was capable of anything he
set his mind to.
*****
Jack smiled to himself as he
moved along the boat deck. Lamps glowed dimly, illuminating his path as he
walked aft toward the second class stairway and the route back to the third
class world.
His mind was filled with Rose.
Her smile, her hair, her scent, her eyes, her voice, her dress...her without
the dress...he smiled a little to himself. Thinking like that wouldn't do right
now. He needed to be clearheaded, able to think straight and move fast. He was
in danger, but blissfully ignorant of the fact.
Up ahead, he glimpsed the door
leading to the stairwell, and quickened his pace against the biting wind. In
his mind, Rose smiled playfully at him and leaned toward him, intent on meeting
his lips with hers. He smiled in response and reached out, gripping the cold
metal of the door handle, pushing against the door and stepping over the
threshold.
"Oof."
The force struck him from behind,
knocking the wind out of him and slamming him forward against the door. His
head smacked against the surface and pain splintered through his skull. His
hands involuntarily grabbed his head, holding it, and he bent at the waist,
stumbling backward, back into the cold night air, back onto the deserted deck.
As he turned to face his
attacker, he was dealt another severe blow to the head, knocking him down. A
pair of shining black shoes pausing beside him was the last thing he remembered
before mercifully passing out.
Cal stood over the crumpled body
of Jack Dawson and, for the first time in nearly a week, smiled a genuine
smile. He nudged the limp hand with the tip of his shoe and then, satisfied
that the boy was unconscious and would be so for quite some time, moved on to
the next phase of his plan.