JACK'S ROSE
Chapter Fifteen
Rose lay awake in her bed, staring at the
ceiling, her mind reeling. Her hand rested lightly on her stomach. Her dress
had been tighter than she remembered it being when Molly had first given it to
her. It had fit, but just barely. She had gained weight, but how? She did not
eat enough to have gained that much weight, and she was more active now than
she ever had been before. But that hadn't mattered in the loose-fitting dress
she normally wore when she was just out and about the house or taking her
walks. And that feeling of something stirring inside her—what was that? Oh,
Jack. What's happening? Rose frowned and stood, quickly grabbing her robe
and pattering down the stairs to the parlor.
She could not sleep, and she knew that
nothing more than more confusion would come from her laying sleeplessly in bed,
so she would put her restlessness to use and cleaned that night's mess, even
though Julia had said they would take care of it in the morning. Rose set about
throwing the strings and papers into the fire. But as she picked up the
newspaper that had concealed her gift from Julia and Henry, she froze.
Startled, Rose settled onto the sofa and began to read.
Ruth DeWitt Bukater and Caledon Hockley
are in mourning for beloved daughter and fiancée, Rose DeWitt Bukater. The trio
was traveling back from a tour around Europe on the ship proclaimed
"unsinkable," the Titanic, when the massive ship struck an iceberg
and sank, taking with it fifteen hundred souls, including young Rose DeWitt
Bukater. Even though her body was never found, Mrs. DeWitt Bukater and Mr.
Hockley have had a gravesite prepared for her and there will be an honorary
ceremony for her held on May twelfth, the day she and Mr. Hockley were to be
married.
Miss DeWitt Bukater was only one among
many prominent souls lost on the night of April fourteenth...
Rose tore her eyes from the newspaper
article. Yes, Rose DeWitt Bukater was dead, but reading this still stirred
something inside her. How had Henry and Julia even found this newspaper? Or did
they even know what had been in it? Trembling, Rose carefully folded the
article, hurried upstairs, and pulled the dress box from beneath her bed.
She threw the lid back and paused, gently
reaching out to touch the glittering blue diamond.
“I want you to draw me like one of your
French girls. Wearing this.”
“All right.”
“Wearing only this.”
The dozens of facets carved into the face of
the stone reflected what moonlight flowed through the limp, plain curtains and
twisted it and sent it dancing about the walls and ceiling as Rose moved it. A
tear slid down her cheek, falling on the diamond and ending her trance.
She gently placed the diamond back in the
folds of the stained pink and white dress beside the crimson rose and placed
the newspaper article on top of the dress. Four hundred and sixty dollars were
tucked in the corner of the box. All material things that were truly dear to her
were in that box, save the portfolio of charcoal sketches that lay on her desk.
She closed the dress box and quickly replaced it under the bed, then stood and
plopped down in the rickety wooden chair situated in front of the desk.
Rose gingerly opened the portfolio and
flipped through the papers. She could almost envision Jack, his young, nimble
fingers gripping the little piece of charcoal, sketching whatever image he had
stored in his mind or whatever lay before him that he had decided to capture on
paper.
“I want you to draw me...”
He had drawn more than the woman he'd seen
laying naked on the sofa before him; he had drawn the woman within her. If Rose
just closed her eyes, she could see that portrait of herself. Oh, how her heart
had been pounding! Those moments had been erotic, sensual, wonderful,
exhilarating...they had taken her yet another giant step closer to freeing
herself from the chains and shackles of society.
Rose closed the portfolio and lay down in her
bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind now blank, until she finally slipped into
a deep sleep.