SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Twenty-One

"You’re Will’s father?" Anne asked. Her eyes widened in surprise. She looked back at the photograph.

"Yes. You should have sent us a message. Jeannie would have prepared the guestroom."

"I-I didn’t want to impose. I mean, I just came to...I’m perfectly fine at the hotel."

"We have a lot to discuss," Mr. Murdoch said, after a long silence. "Are you busy this evening?"

"No."

"Come to dinner. Oakland Cottage on High Street."

"Mr. Murdoch, I couldn’t possibly—"

"Well, it’s why you came, isn’t it?"

"Yes, but I only wished to speak with you, and perhaps your wife. I don’t wish to impose or intrude upon—"

Mr. Murdoch chuckled and shook his head. "Don’t worry about imposing or intruding. Please. My family and I would be glad to have you to dinner."

Anne opened her mouth to protest, but recalled a similar argument that had occurred her first evening aboard the Titanic. Realizing she couldn’t win, she closed her mouth and nodded.

"Good. I’ll see you then. It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Stewart."

*****

Anne tied her hair with a length of green ribbon. She lacked Megan’s skills with styling hair, and so made do with the simple ribbon. She glanced in the mirror and scrutinized her appearance for a good ten minutes before finally deciding to be satisfied with her looks.

She patted her pocket to feel the small items inside, then exited her stateroom. She descended the stairs and left the hotel. Repeating the address in her head, Anne began the short walk to the Murdoch household, keeping in the soft rays of the arc-lights.

I can’t do it. I simply cannot...this was a mistake. What am I doing here? Anne mentally chided herself for even considering attending dinner. As she neared the beautiful cottage, Anne felt her will quickly fade. She balked as she approached the front door, and took a deep breath to calm herself. Finally, she stepped up to the door and knocked three times.

"She’s here!" Anne heard a female voice cry out from inside the house. A moment later, the door flew open, and a young, dark-haired woman stood in the doorway. "Good evening, Miss Stewart. I’m Agnes. Won’t you come in?"

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agnes. And please, call me Anne." Anne nodded as she stepped inside the house.

"Well, you look lovely this evening, Miss Stewart." Mr. Murdoch smiled broadly. "Welcome to our home. I see you’ve met our daughter Agnes already, and this is my wife, Jeannie."

"I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Murdoch." Anne raised her hand to shake the other woman’s, but was surprised when the elder embraced her.

"Please, call me Jeannie," Mrs. Murdoch whispered into Anne’s ear. She finally pulled away and looked her up and down. "Haven’t they fed you? Ah…no matter. We’ll feed you here. Dinner is ready. We’ll go into the dining room, and talk later. Peg isn’t here, I’m afraid."

Trying to keep up with the energetic woman’s chatter, Anne simply nodded in reply. The family adjourned to the dining room in a flutter of chatter and melancholy smiles.

"Harry Lowe? You know him? Yes, well, he sent us a letter about Will. He mentioned you. He also sent a letter from Will. Will mentioned you, also," Mr. Murdoch stated during the meal. "He admired you, Anne. I don’t believe any of us expected that."

"Not after..." Jeannie’s voice trailed off, as though she’d said too much.

"Not after Ada?" Anne offered, and Jeannie’s eyes lit up.

"My, he did trust you." Jeannie grinned. "Yes, not after Ada. We all expected he’d marry her. Well, I had my doubts, but I wasn’t going to tell him so."

"Of course you did, dear. You knew all along," Mr. Murdoch gently agreed with his wife, then winked at Anne, who suppressed a smile.

"So, what did you think of Will? He was always so stern and quiet and serious." Agnes leaned across the table a bit.

"Well, when I first met him, he was rather kind and sociable." A small smile broke out across Anne’s face. Time melted away as she thought of that day she had first seen the first officer in Southampton. Slowly, lovingly, she reminisced and began reliving the voyage on the Titanic. "It was the day before the Titanic sailed..."

Chapter Twenty-Two
Stories