EVERYTHING’S NOT LOST
Chapter Five
"Alright, now Miss Andrews,
just hold onto the bedpost and I’m going to tie you in." Oh, Mary. The
woman who feels the need to call me Miss Andrews—my father paying her aside, I
suppose she thinks calling me by a proper name is a part of the job requirement.
"Mary, please, not too
tight," I begged as I gripped the shiny oak bedpost.
"Don’t you want to look nice
for that nice gentleman?" I could care less.
"I just want to be able to
breathe." She’s going to kill me with this corset. As she began to tighten
up the laces from the bottom of my back to the top, she kept on squeezing the
laces together to make them even tighter than before. I gasped every time she
did that.
"Now, take in a deep
breath!" she said out of nowhere as she tied the top lace. I can barely
breathe—I should’ve expected it. I managed to get a gasp of air here and there
and turned, leaning against the bedpost as Mary went towards the closet.
"Is that okay, Miss Andrews?" I managed a slight nod. Corsets are
supposed to give you a flawless silhouette, but turning purple and collapsing
is not a good look. Oh, no, my mother’s quote is coming back to me…Mary opened
up the closet and shuffled through my collection of dresses. "Which one
would you like?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at me.
"I don’t know," I
answered truthfully, shrugging a shoulder. "Which one do you think?"
She bit her lower lip in thought as she rummaged through the dresses. She
gestured to a beaded red and black number, one that I haven’t worn in ages, the
one with a train. Dress trains and I really need to learn how to cooperate in a
civil manner.
"How about this?" she
asked.
"That’s perfect." She
smiled, proud of herself, as she took it off the hanger and began to unhook the
hooks in the back of the dress.
"I think it’ll look just
fantastic with that silver necklace you have and the matching earrings
and…" As she continued talking, I didn’t bother to listen. This woman
really ought to become a seamstress. She gestured for me to step into the dress
and I did, putting my arms into the proper holes as Mary gathered up the dress
from behind and began to hook it back together again. Getting dressed is like
putting a life-size puzzle together. It’s like a torture sentence. Between the
corset and the dress, I’d rather be in third class.
"Done?" I asked after
what felt like an eternity. She nodded, turning me around.
"Sure am. This dress is so
beautiful." She gestured to my hair. "Good thing we did your hair
beforehand, huh?" I managed a smile as Mary fixed the train trailing
behind me. I went towards my bureau and searching through two drawers, I found
my white gloves. I slid my hands through them, fixing them on my arm to make
sure they’re perfect.
"What jewelry did you
think…?" my voice trailed off as I began to dig through my jewelry box. I
wish I knew how to listen.
"The silver necklace."
I pulled out one of many silver necklaces and held it up for her to see.
"This one?"
"No, no, this one had
diamonds on the pendent."
"Isn’t that a little flashy,
Mary?" I suddenly asked. She giggled.
"Well, you need to look your
best. That gentleman—"
"Oh, Mary, please
don’t." She stopped.
"I don’t think it’s
flashy," she decided a few seconds after closing her mouth. "You need
to look your best—you’re the Master Shipbuilder’s daughter, after all."
She paused. "You represent the ship, indirectly." Great, my mother
got to Mary! That sounds like something she would absolutely say.
"Alright, alright," I
said, placing the necklace back and finding another with the diamonds on the
ornament. "This?" She nodded as I handed it to her. I can’t even lift
my arms above my head—I am officially helpless without her. She snapped it onto
my neck as I searched for those earrings. Did she say they were green? Why do I
remember her saying something about green earrings?
"The matching earrings, Miss
Andrews," she said after I sighed from frustration, unable to find these
supposed green earrings.
"Oh!" I managed a
laugh, the diamond earrings right in front of me. I clipped the left on and as
I opened the clasp for the right, someone was knocking at my door.
"He’s early," Mary
whispered into my ear. He sure is—twenty minutes early!
"My father wouldn’t have let
him in this far," I concluded. "Would you please get the door?"
I asked of her, attempting to put the second earring on. She nodded, checking
the dress to make sure she had hooked everything properly before going to the
door.
"Ann, it’s me," rang my
father’s voice through the door. "Can I come in?"
"Sure!" Mary opened the
door and my father walked in, all dolled up in his usual tuxedo, ready for
dinner. He adjusted his suit jacket as he made his way towards me.
"Mr. Andrews, please—"
Mary gestured to the train on the floor. Thank goodness for mirrors, I can see
everything. He stepped to the right of the train as I turned to face him, still
trying to get the earring into place.
"Oh, Antoinette," my
father said. "You look beautiful."
"It was Mary’s choice for
the dress," I said, gesturing to her. "She has good taste." I
sighed angrily, this earring not cooperating.
"Miss Andrews, you’re going
to break it!" Mary said, as she brushed past my father, taking the earring
out of my hand before I could cause it any due harm. She placed it onto my ear
with perfection, along with its’ proper backing. "There." I turned to
the mirror, straightened them slightly, then turned back to my father.
"Will you be needing anything else, Miss Andrews?" I shook my head.
"I’ll ring for you after
dinner," I said, with a slight smile. She disappeared out of my bedroom
and out of sight.
"You look wonderful,"
my father said simply as he fiddled with his tie. "I am so glad you
decided to come to dinner, after all." Did I mention I haven’t told him
about my little invitation from Harold Lowe earlier today? Well, I haven’t. I
suppose being late is better than never telling him at all.
"Actually, Daddy, I’ve got a
date." That’s the only reason I’m coming to this frill-feast known as a
first-class dinner. He smiled at me, that half-smile he always does.
"Oh, really? Who?" He
paused. "Did Will ask you?" Will…? Oh, he means Will Murdoch! I shook
my head.
"No, no, Harold did."
He smiled even wider this time.
"Lowe?" he asked
skeptically. I nodded.
"Why? Is that a bad
thing?"
"No, honey, I think it’s
great." Well, it’s an excuse to go to dinner, one way or the other.
"Really, I do." I suppose I gave him a skeptical glance when he first
said he thought the whole idea was great. "Now, I suppose I know where you
were this morning—" He thinks I was with Harold!?
"Daddy, I was not with him.
I was roaming the deck."
"Sure, Ann, sure."
"Well, I was!" He
laughed, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.
"I know you were, darling. I
was just kidding." That’s when there was a knock on the door. My father
pulled out his pocket watch before glancing up at me.
"He’s early," he
murmured under his breath.
"How early?" I asked,
taking the watch from his hand. He’s almost thirty minutes early! I’m barely
ready as it is.
"I hope it’s not someone for
me," my father sighed as I handed him back the pocket watch.
"I’ll get it," I
decided, picking up my dress’s train in one hand and going towards the suite’s
door. Swinging the door open, was a turned officer, his back to me. Oh, it must
be Harry. "Hello?" I asked him, unsure of what else to say. Turning
abruptly around, there stands Will, holding his hat in his hand before placing
it under his arm. He stopped suddenly, eyeing me from the floor up. He looked
like he gulped. Oh, come now, it’s just a dress.
"Miss Andrews." He
slightly bowed.
"Really, Antoinette is
fine." I took a step outside the door.
"Of course. Then, I suppose
it’s Will to you, too." I’ve already been calling him Will in my own
little world since I met him. Oops. I managed a nod as he cleared his throat.
"I wanted to speak with you this morning, but you so abruptly left that I
never got the chance. And you try finding someone aboard this large ship
without any idea of where you’re going and…I’m sorry. I’m getting off-topic
here…What I wanted to ask you..."
"Which was what?" I
asked.
"I know we’re all going to
be together, anyway, but I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner with me.
I know it’s short notice." He sounded so hopeful, I don’t want to crush
his spirits. "Maybe?" My face must’ve dropped because he already
looks disappointed.
"Will, I—" I bit my
lower lip as he nodded.
"That’s what I
figured." He looks heartbroken.
"No, no, Harold already
asked and I…accepted."
"Oh." He hesitated.
"Well, then, I’ll see you at dinner."
"I—I’m sorry, Will, I—"
He shrugged a shoulder, managing a laugh.
"Don’t worry about it,"
he said, as if this whole incident never actually happened. "You look
beautiful, by the way. Very beautiful." With that, he turned and walked
out of sight after a moment or so. Oh. I leaned against the doorway, placing a
hand over my corseted middle. I feel absolutely awful. I took in a sharp
breath, the best I could with this dumb corset, looking down the hall Will had
walked down. He was completely gone.
"Ann, who was at the door?"
my father’s voice came from behind me. I can’t move. Oh, why do I feel so
awful? The look on Will’s face alone could’ve made me cry for him. I suppose
there’s always going to be tomorrow’s dinner, lunch and breakfast, but
rejection is the worst thing for anyone—especially one looking for a woman to
carry on the arm. My father made his way to my side, keeping his eyes on me.
"Antoinette, who was at the door?" I can’t look at him. I kept my
eyes focused on the hallway. "Ann." I finally realized I had no
choice but to look at him, so I turned to face him, keeping myself against the
doorway.
"Wrong room," I said
softly.
"What?"
"Someone thought this was
A12, instead of 32. Wrong room." He raised an eyebrow at me.
"Really?" he asked,
unsure of me. "Well, you ought to go finish getting ready. Harold could be
here any minute, you know." Harold, right. "It’s almost seven."
I nodded as I brushed past him, back into the suite. He is right, but now
looking William Murdoch in the eye will be incredibly difficult. Avoiding eye
contact is something I am thankfully good at. "Looking one in the eye is
very important for a woman in society." Oh, Mother, shut up!