A FATHER'S RESCUE
Chapter Six
And then a flash of memory came to her, of
Cal gone mad with fury...pursuing her and Jack into the flooded First Class
Dining Saloon...of gunshots and her screams. She couldn't let anyone discover
her true identity, not with her ex-fiancé possibly still searching for her in
this very city. Unless the sinking had changed him, Cal would never give up
until she was found and dragged back to Philadelphia.
"That would be hard to explain, David. I
have had quite a day, but I don't need to burden you with everything that's on
my mind."
David was disappointed, but he could also
feel it was best not to press Rose on this. He stepped back from the door,
saying, "It wouldn't be a burden, Rose, but if you'd rather not talk I
understand. If you ever change your mind, all you have to do is let me
know."
Rose had worried that David would be angry
with her. On the contrary, he seemed worried about her...but also willing to
give her space. For this she was very grateful. After he had turned his back
she closed and locked her door, sitting on the bed again. She thought she might
cry again, but she didn't. She mostly felt numb...and part of her wished she
had told David. When she joined the others for dinner later, David kept a close
watch on her, and from the look on her face, Mrs. Wallace also had heard about
the day's events. Rose was sure one of them would corner her after the meal.
She kept her head down as the others engaged
in their usual silly banter, not daring to meet David's inquiring eyes. Once
the meal was over, she excused herself quickly, but Frances had to get a jab
in. "I like the new dress, honey. You changing your look to fit in with us
common folk?"
Rose's face flushed. As the others snickered,
David prepared to spring to her defense, but he knew what kind of reaction that
would bring, and he wasn't sure he wanted anyone to guess his growing feelings
for her. As it turned out, Rose had an equally catty retort. "Oh, no, this
dress is a little too understated. To fit in with you I'd need something
more...colorful."
She turned on her heels and marched out of
the kitchen, choosing to ignore whatever insult Frances was muttering. She knew
she should have ignored the woman, but the thought of some prostitute
belittling her, a descendant of two of Philadelphia's wealthiest families, was
a bit too much to swallow.
Rose suddenly stopped dead in her tracks as
the reminder slapped her in the face. She was no longer the daughter of a
wealthy tycoon. She was a shipwreck survivor with no more family, no more
powerful fiancé, and no more inheritance, and unless she did something to
improve her circumstances soon, she would lose her dignity as well. She might
even end up like Frances, heaven forbid.
Rose knew that the only thing she had going
for her in terms of finding work were the proper clothes she had just bought.
She had no skills, really, and didn't even know how to begin looking for a
job...without one more word to anyone, Rose returned to her room, to think. She
removed her shoes before she lay down, but did not get into her nightclothes.
Some time later, Rose was fast asleep on the bed. She didn't realize it, but
soon she was calling out in her sleep. Her words grew loud enough to awaken
Mrs. Wallace, who came bustling down the hall, grumbling about having such loud
tenants. At the door to Rose's room, she halted, first testing to see if the
door was locked. When she found it so, rather than going to retrieve her key, the
older woman began to knock, hoping to rouse the young lady within.
"What's going on in there? Do you have a
guest?" Rose stirred and groaned. It was that old busybody again. Why
couldn't these people just leave her be? She rolled out of bed and made her way
to the door in the darkness.
"Yes, what--hey!"
Mrs. Wallace pushed her way into the room,
expecting to catch a gentleman caller attempting to cover his exposed flesh.
Much to her disappointment, there was no one there. Damn.
She covered her true feelings in cloak of
authority. "Are you aware of the noise you've been making at night?
Moaning and carrying on? It sounds like--oh, never mind. Are you having
nightmares, dear? I have a remedy that just might work, only you can't let on
that I gave it to you, because it's not the sort of thing that's used in polite
company."
"No," Rose said firmly. "I
won't be requiring any medicines, thank you." She began steering Mrs.
Wallace to the door. "I'll be just fine. Did you leave your door open? I
wouldn't want Fluffy to get lost."
Mrs. Wallace, standing in the doorway, said,
"Her name's not Fluffy. It's--"
Rose slammed the door in her face and secured
the lock. She then changed into a flannel nightgown, relishing how warm and
comfortable it felt, and stretched out under the covers again. Please, no
more nightmares, she prayed, as sleep overcame her.